The Heart of The Beast: A romantic adult fairytale revealing how the power of love can overcome the hardest heart. Susan Kohler
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“But what am I then? What is my status in the castle?”
“Consider yourself my companion and my mistress,” the Beast replied, setting aside the tray to take her into his arms again. “And my lover.”
For the first few weeks they spent together, the Beast very seldom left Beauty’s side except when he was occupied with the running of his lands or when he went to train with his guardsmen. He worked constantly to keep himself ready for battle. He also left her side when he went to patrol the surrounding countryside, searching for any sign of raiders. The crushing poverty surrounding the countryside, indeed the whole land, had greatly increased the number of miscreants willing to kill for a mere pittance. Some of these vile thieves formed brutal packs. The roaming bands of thieves were vicious thugs who would steal anything they could get their hands on and leave a trail of burned out huts and dead serfs in their wake.
There was only one other time the Beast would leave Beauty alone. That was when he had any reason to go into the village. He stoutly refused to let her accompany him; it was his means of blocking her from any chance of seeing her family. Her hopes that she would get to go riding with the Beast, and therefore have at least a chance to see her brother Tom in the stables, also never came to fruition.
During the days when he was working and too busy to spend time with her, Beauty was kept inside the castle walls and was always well guarded.
She wasn’t so well guarded because the Beast had any emotional attachment for her or even because he was concerned about her safety in any way. Although he fully enjoyed her in bed, he still distrusted her. He thought of her as a possession and he was a man who safeguarded his possessions from anyone who would attempt to steal them away. As he had told her when they first made their arrangement, even when he had no need of her, no desire to spend time with her, she was not allowed to go to the village to see her family or even to the barn to see Tom.
She was watched constantly, and not only by guards; there were many on the household staff who reported her every movement to the Beast. The watchfulness did more than ensure her safety. She knew the guards were also watching her to report any improprieties or suspicious activities to the Beast. For the most part, the guards had nothing to report except that she read the Bible or some poetry, or embroidered, usually as she sat on a marble bench in the ornate flower garden. Sometimes, when she was particularly restless, she even worked in the garden planting new roses or other flowers, trimming away dead leaves and pulling weeds.
Once however, she did manage to smuggle a brief note to her brother, Tom, as he worked in the stables. The Beast found out about the note, of course, and read it through without Beauty’s knowledge before letting it be delivered to Tom. It read:
My Dearest Brother Tom,
I write this at some risk to us both but I wanted to reassure you that all is well with me, at least as well as can be expected. The Beast is fierce indeed and growls at me often, but all in all, he treats me with a fairness that is at odds with his reputation. Life here is not perfect but much better than I expected or feared.
So rest easy, my dear brother. Please take care of our mother and Nate and comfort them with the knowledge that I find life here at the castle to be tolerable. I miss you all. Godspeed,
My deepest love, Your sister,
Beauty
The Beast was at first angered by the mere fact that she had enough nerve to write the note, and then by its contents, secretly pleased. He realized she was, in a small way, content with him and that she had not used the note to berate him or to encourage her family to attempt to rescue her.
He considered spanking Beauty for defying him by the mere act of writing such a missive but decided to let the matter go. Although she never even knew about it, it was one of the few times he was lenient with her.
He let the note be delivered to Tom partially because he was intrigued by it. Not only by the contents, but also by the very fact that a simple peasant woman could read and write. Such a thing was unheard of! He was already suspicious of Beauty, having realized almost immediately that she was no ordinary peasant girl. He had soon realized that Beauty had many qualities not commonly found in the villagers.
Once he really looked at her as a woman, he realized that she walked, spoke, and at all times comported herself with a dignity and poise not found in the rest of the vassals. As proven by the note, she was well educated in reading and writing, and she was also quick with numbers. She knew the gentle art of embroidery and took it upon herself to repair a small flaw on one of the tapestries.
She had become interested in the day-to-day chores involved in running the castle. Although some of the servants clearly resented her status, indeed, some of them whispered behind her back that she was no more than the Beast’s whore, she slowly gained their grudging respect. She worked hard right along with those servants. Things that had been broken or fallen into disrepair over the years were soon fixed or replaced. Things that were once seldom cleaned now shone brightly. Meals suddenly had more taste and variety. The account books showed that she was frugal, managing these improvements without wasting very many of the Beast’s precious coins. Someone had trained her well in the running of a large estate, trained her to be a bride to someone important. The Beast was no fool, for he knew she was definitely no ordinary serf.
The Beast held these thoughts to himself, noting them but not confronting Beauty with them. Instead, he gradually left more and more of the domestic responsibilities in her hands. She handled them capably. He stood back and watched, and puzzled as to her real identity. He had an idea who she really was but was unsure why she kept it secret. He knew he would one day confront her about keeping her true identity a secret from him.
Beauty was pondering a mystery of her own. She was trying to find out how the two Toms came to be accused of the grain theft. There could have been no missing grain because there had never been a theft. The same with witnesses; who could come forward to be a witness when there was nothing to see? Who had carried the tale to the Beast? Why had the Beast believed the accuser without any doubts or questions? She wanted to know who was behind the accusation and what his motive was.
Beauty also wondered who was really behind the killing of the peasant girls. Although she would be the first to admit that this was no tame beast she lived with, indeed he was rough and insistent and never questioned his right to use brute force to get whatever he wanted, he was not needlessly cruel. As far as she could tell he was heedless to the pain of others and desensitised by his upbringing, but she sensed he derived no dark pleasure from inflicting such pain. She would never believe him capable of cold-blooded and savage murder.
She had to admit he had committed the rapes, even the Beast admitted to them. He simply refused to see them as rapes, but he admitted them as a part of his life. Like so many men of his station in life, he considered the use of the village women as just one of the privileges of his rank.
He really was a beast, Beauty realized, yet she just could find no hint of the monster in him. He never really beat her, except for the spankings, and most of the time they weren’t exceedingly severe.
Although he often left her bottom well warmed and reddened, he had never left a bruise or a welt on her. It was a measure of restraint and control that the Beast never admitted. Indeed, he would deny any hint of gentleness as if it were the vilest accusation Beauty could make against him, but for the most part he wasn’t especially harsh with her.
By contrast, those murdered girls had been savaged and mutilated. They had all been beaten half to death, and then stabbed numerous times, some almost hacked to pieces. It just was not him, and Beauty knew it. She refused to let herself see what that bit of unwavering faith might reveal about her own growing feelings for him.
All her inquiries led to one man as being behind both problems, the accusation against the two Toms