The Beast Within (Villains 2)

No doubt he actually was.

The Prince couldn’t help noticing how harshly he had been painted in the portrait. His eyes looked cruel, piercing, almost like those of a wolf seeking his prey, and his mouth looked thinner, more sinister than it had looked before. Gaston knocked the Prince with his elbow.

“Say something, man! They’re expecting a speech!” he whispered in the Prince’s ear.

“I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful portrait of my lovely bride-to-be!” the Prince finally uttered.

Princess Tulip blushed deeply and said, “Thank you, my love. And I, too, couldn’t have asked for a more handsome and dignified visage of my prospective husband.”

Dignified? Wasn’t that a word one used for older men? Did he look dignified? His visage, as she called it, looked harsh and worn, not one of a man who had not yet reached his twentieth birthday, but one of a man well into his forties. This wouldn’t do. Dignified!

The party was led out of the great hall and into the music room, where a group of musicians waited to entertain the party. By all accounts the evening went on pleasantly enough, but the Prince couldn’t take his mind off the painting. He looked so worn, so ugly. Had Tulip agreed to marry him simply because she would eventually be queen in these lands? Did she love him at all?

He couldn’t see how.

He slipped away from the party to confirm the Maestro’s rendition of him in his bedroom mirror. He just stood there staring, trying to find himself in the man staring back at him. Why hadn’t anyone said anything? How could he have changed so much in so little time?

Later that evening, when the Prince’s guests and staff were all tucked into their beds, the Prince stole out of his rooms and made his way down the long, dark corridor. He was fearful of waking Queen Morningstar. She would of course think he was sneaking into the princess’s chamber, but that was the furthest thing from his mind now. When he passed Tulip’s room, a creaking sound startled him, but it was only that blasted cat pushing the door open. He had no idea why the princess liked it so well. There was something sinister about the way the feline looked at him, and something eerie in her markings, which made her look like a creature that roamed cemeteries rather than castle grounds.

Well, if the queen did wake to find him prowling the halls, she wouldn’t believe he was on his way to look at his painting again. He’d been sleeping fitfully and unable to rest, his thoughts consumed by that ghastly painting. Once he got into the great hall and managed to light the candles, he stood there staring at the painting again. He had indeed changed—that had been clear when he looked at himself in the mirror earlier that evening—but surely the Maestro had dramatized the changes. Just look at the difference between this painting and the last, which had been done less than a year earlier. There was no way a man could change so dramatically. He would never forgive the Maestro for creating the unfavorable rendering. He decided the man must pay for such an uncharitable act.

The beautiful orange-and-black cat seemed to be in accord with the Prince, because she narrowed her eyes in much the same way he did when he plotted his revenge.

At the Prince’s encouragement, Cogsworth had all visiting guests packed and stuffed into the carriages very early the next morning. Mrs. Potts was disappointed not to have the opportunity to serve the guests breakfast before the start of their travels, so she packed a large trunk with lovely things for them to eat on their journey. The sun was barely visible, and the tops of the trees were obscured in mist. There was a terrible chill in the air, so it didn’t seem unreasonable that the Prince was eager to get back withindoors, where he could warm himself.

He made his good-byes to his guests, thanking them all and bidding them farewell, with promises of love and letter writing to Tulip. He sighed in great relief when the carriages drove away. Gaston, who had been standing silently at his side, finally spoke.

“So why was it you woke me at this ungodly hour, my friend?”

“I need a little favor. Some time back you mentioned a particularly unscrupulous fellow who can be called upon for certain deeds.”

Gaston raised his eyebrows. “Surely there are ways to get out of marrying the princess other than having her killed!”

The Prince laughed.

“No, man! I mean the Maestro! I would like you to make the arrangements for me. The incident cannot be traced back to me, you understand?”

Gaston looked at his friend and said, “Absolutely!”

“Thank you, good friend. And once that is sorted, what do you say to a day of hunting?”

“Sounds perfect! I would like nothing more.”

As Princess Tulip Morningstar’s carriage rolled up the path leading to the Prince’s castle, she thought there was nothing more breathtaking than the sight of the castle in wintertime. Her father’s kingdom was beautiful, yes, but it didn’t compare to the Prince’s, especially when it was covered in pure white snow and decorated for the winter solstice.

&nbs

p; The entire castle was infused with light and glowing brightly in the dark winter night. She had high hopes for this visit and wished nothing more than for the Prince to treat her with kindness and love like he once had. Surely the winter holiday would cheer his sour mood of late and bring him back around to the man she’d fallen in love with that dreamy night at the ball.

“Look, Nanny, isn’t it beautiful the way the pathway is lined with candlelight?”

Nanny smiled and said, “Yes, my dear child, it’s very beautiful. Even more lovely than I imagined it would be.”

Tulip sighed.

“What is it, Tulip? What’s troubling you?”

Tulip said nothing. She loved her nanny dearly and couldn’t bring herself to ask her what she’d been rehearsing the entire way from her father’s kingdom to their destination.