The Beast Within (Villains 2)

“See! I will be fine! Go have your tea!”

And off Nanny went.

Tulip didn’t know what she would do without Nanny. But she knew once she was married, she couldn’t justify having her in the household. She would, of course, have a lady’s servant—someone to do her hair, to help her dress, to arrange her jewels—but it wouldn’t be the same. She couldn’t imagine sharing her feelings with anyone but Nanny. Perhaps since she and Mrs. Potts had become so friendly, it wouldn’t seem strange to keep Nanny on. She would have to talk to her mother about that when she returned from her trip. But what if her mother was unable to spare Nanny or thought it was somehow inappropriate for Tulip to bring her along? That was just too dreadful to think of now.

The Prince peeked into the room, taking Tulip’s mind off her future household concerns. She knew he didn’t like Pflanze sitting on his fine cushions, but she couldn’t help indulging the creature, and he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hello, my love. I have a little surprise for you. Do you think I can steal you away while we don’t have Nanny to worry about? She’s always snooping around and wondering where you are.”

Tulip’s face transformed into something shining and bright. She couldn’t remember ever being so happy, not even when her father gave her Cupcake, her favorite horse. Oh, Cupcake! She couldn’t wait to see her again. She wondered if the Prince would object to Cupcake’s coming to live here once they were married. So many things to think about.

“Darling?” His voice brought Tulip out of her deep thoughts.

“Oh, yes, dear, I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how much I love you! And how sweet you are for asking Mrs. Potts to invite Nanny for tea so we could have some time together alone.”

The Prince smiled. His featherhead had puzzled out his ruse. What a surprise.

“So you worked out my clever scheme? Aren’t you a cunning girl?” he said. “Come now! I have something I would like to show you.”

“What is it?” Tulip squealed like an excited little girl.

“You will just have to wait and see, my love, but first you will have to put this on.”

He handed her a long white piece of silk.

She looked at him queerly.

“It’s a surprise, my love. Trust me.” He helped her tie the blindfold and led her to what she was sure was the courtyard. He let go of her hand and gently kissed her on the cheek. “Count to fifty, my dear, and then take off the blindfold.”

He could see she was frightened.

“My dear, you’re trembling. There’s nothing to fear. I will be waiting f

or you at the end of your journey.”

“My journey?” Her voice sounded small and confused.

“It won’t be a long journey, my princess, and the way will be quite clear. Now count to fifty.”

She could hear his footfalls moving farther and farther away as she counted in her mind. It was silly to be so frightened, but she hated nothing more than the dark. Nanny had tried everything, but Tulip’s relentless fear of darkness never diminished. She tried not to count too quickly so she wouldn’t ruin the Prince’s surprise, but found herself becoming too fearful of the confining darkness. “Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty!” She ripped the silk sash from her eyes. It took a moment for them to adjust before she saw the path laid before her. The tips of her toes touched the scattered pink rose petals that had been strewn across the courtyard to create a path that led right into the hedge maze. Her fears fluttered away as she quickly walked upon the petals, eager to venture into the maze constructed of animal topiaries. The petals led her past an exceptionally large serpent, its mouth gaping wide and bearing long, deadly fangs. The serpent twisted its way around the corner, revealing a part of the maze she’d never seen. It was a replica of the castle, almost exact in every way, except without the many griffons and gargoyles perched on every corner and turret. She imagined her future children playing here one day, laughing and making a game of the animals in the maze. What a lovely place this would be for children. She stopped her daydreaming and followed the rose petals past several whimsical animals, some of which she didn’t know. She often felt cheated having been born a girl, not having had tutors like her brother had or the freedom to explore the world. Women learned of the world through their fathers, their brothers, and, if they were lucky, their husbands. It didn’t seem quite fair.

She was accomplished for a girl—she knew how to sew, sing, paint watercolors, and even play the harpsichord fairly well—but she could not name all the animals in what would soon be her own hedge maze. She felt stupid most of the time and hoped others didn’t see her in that light but feared they usually did.

“Never mind that,” she said to herself, and was surprised to see that the trail of petals led out of the hedge maze and away from the mysterious animals that made her feel foolish and into a lovely garden she hadn’t yet seen on her visits here.

It was enclosed with a low semicircle wall, and within were lovely bright colored flowers. For a moment she thought she found herself stumbling upon springtide; it was such a remarkable sight, so bright and full of life in the middle of the wintery landscape. She couldn’t fathom how the flowers thrived in such bitter cold. Scattered among the flowers were beautiful statues, characters from legends and myths; she knew that much from listening in on her brother’s lessons with his tutors before Nanny would take her away to practice walking.

Practice walking, indeed!

No wonder men didn’t take women seriously; they had classes in walking while men learned ancient languages.

The garden was stunning, and very much like a fairy tale, filled with the cold blue light of the winter afternoon. Nestled in the center of the enchanted garden, all pink and gold, was a stone bench, where her dearest was waiting for her, smiling with his hand outstretched.

“It’s so beautiful, my love! How is this possible?”

The Prince’s smile broadened.

“I arranged flowers from the hothouse to be moved here so you may experience the joy of spring.”