THE MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER -Chapter Twelve (Patreon)

CHAPTER TWELVE:

As the days passed afterward, it seemed that the bond and familiarity only grew between them. Beast took interest in her activities more and she in his. The two shared more conversation together in those few days alone than they had in their entire acquaintance with one another.

Before long, The Beast allowed Beauty to wander the castle with a certain amount of freedom; letting her have access to a couple of rooms without having to wait for his escort.

Within a fortnight, Beauty found that even though she had the freedom to wander more and more as she chose (by his bidding), the two rarely spent time apart from one another between meals. She felt more and more each day that the two were becoming friends.

Soon, they began to speak of topics personal to each of them.

Beast asked her about her life and her family in further detail and she felt comfortable enough with him to share the truth in answer to his questions.

“I understand about your father, certainly, and that you have sisters. Do you not also have a mother?”

She smiled gently and shook her head at him. “I do not.”

“Why not?” he asked gently.

“She died upon giving birth to me,” Beauty confessed. She would have gone on further were it not for the reaction of The Beast before her.

He looked absolutely horrified. “Oh goodness! I so do apologize! I cannot believe my rudeness in being so forward! Do...do forgive me if you can Beauty,” he begged.

“You are forgiven, Beast,” she told him easily.

“I... In the future I shall be more perceptive and courteous to you. I might’ve known it was not a topic to be breached in consideration that you have not once mentioned your mother to me. I do apologize sincerely and deeply. I shall be more sensitive from this point forward.”

“You needn’t be so apologetic dear Beast. I grew up not knowing Mother and as such I do not have a heart that misses her through memories. I simply must find her in the words of my father and in the portraits we have of her. My heart longs and wonders what it might have been like to grow up with a mother but alas there is naught to be done about it and I am not easily hurt by reminder of such things. Do not fear...”

He nodded his head respectfully in acknowledgement and acceptance of her words.

There was a pause of silence before he spoke again, “Well... If you are indeed not opposed to speaking about such a personal topic,” he stated slowly, “then perhaps you might tell me a little more...”

She saw his tentativeness and smiled at him to reassure him, “Yes of course. What is it you wish to know?”

“What have you come to learn from the words of your father and your portraits?” he asked –never having such an experience himself in any memory that he possessed about his existence.

Beauty took a small breath before she began. “My oldest sister resembles Mother most despite Annaliese’s hair being the colour of the cocoa drink father used to bring home from the traders of the southeast,” she began, “although Celene got Mother’s thin nose and Linnette her soft chin,” she added. “But mother had silken hair the colour of caramel –something none of my sisters or I have inherited. Linnette came close with her ochre coloured hair but hers is more brown than Mother’s. My mother was very beautiful; she had bright, expressive light brown eyes that Father always speaks about with fondness. She and Annaliese both have these gentle cheekbones –and I only know this because when I look at my sister, I can see the resemblance to my mother’s portrait. And they both have these petite lips that smile so sweetly. Yet, Annaliese is not like my mother in her kindness. Mother, according to Father, knew she had a charming smile and yet she did not use it as my sister does to gain favor or get her way. Father jests, however, that Mother’s smile is what caught him in the first place and made him wish to give her the world. ‘If she would smile, she could have whatever she desired’ Father has told us time and time again. He was very much in love with her.”

Beast’s eyes held a fondness as Beauty spoke of this. “That is wonderful.”

She smiled. “Yes. And while Celene inherited her nose, she certainly did not inherit Mother’s ability to dance. Father has recounted the way Mother danced so wonderfully and poor Celene cannot seem to keep time to the music so she pouts in jealousy about that story,” Beauty chuckled.

Beast joined in softly. “And what else?”

“I am about Mother’s height,” Beauty went on, “According to Father, Mother was not as tall as Annaliese is and she only outgrows me by less than a finger’s length. When Father met Mother, she would always have her hair arranged in some wonderful fashion. Celene and Annaliese are both proud of that fact –the two I can honestly say I have not yet seen with a simple plait in their hair. They always have to have some accessory or combination of plaits even if they let most of their hair hang straight down their backs. It’s quite amusing to watch them attempt to prepare themselves for a morning’s work because they are not satisfied until they have done something out of the ordinary bun or different than simply pinning their hair up out of the way. Never ask either of them to settle for a simple braid. They shall be scandalized!”

“Goodness me,” Beast commented. “And so, you and your other sister are not so?”

“No not quite. I don’t mind having my hair arranged but when you wake early to begin your chores, sometimes there is neither motivation nor time to do much but make sure your hair will stay out of your way.”

“I have noted this in you during your stay here,” he told her, “Forgive me but I have noted that at first your hair would be arranged rather simply and now you have taken the time to array your hair in more of a variety of different manners as these weeks have gone by. I hope this isn’t...against propriety or too forward for me to say so.”

Beauty, though flattered at the observations, could not find a reason for it to be outside of decorum. “No I cannot say that it is,” she told him, “I need not provide forgiveness for something that is not a slight against good manners.”

He nodded his head to her. “Very well. Tell me, dear Beauty, which of you and your sisters resemble your father most.”

This she had to think about. “My third oldest sister, Linette. Not to say that she is not sightly or becoming in the least but I would say she has a fair number of his features although they are softened in her feminine face and stance. Why do you ask, dear Beast?”

“It helps me picture your family better I suppose,” he responded, “I have met your father face to face and I have met you. With your description of your sisters and that of your Mother I am attempting to know what your family looks like without having seen each of them. It helps me to...visualize when I am told things whether through a book or now through your word of mouth.”

“Oh, I see,” she murmured with a slow nod of her head. “That is quite understandable.” She felt at ease after his explanation. He had no hidden motivation or ulterior motive for knowing this information. Not that she would have doubted it much before asking for an explanation but it helped to hear it all the same.

It was nice to feel that trust between them now. Beauty, for one, appreciated the feeling quite immensely. She found it easy to talk to her companion —for a captor he now seemed not— and likewise she found him to be relaxed and at ease around her as well. This made it much easier to get to know one another further and to ask each other questions that were on their minds.

One morning, Beauty asked Beast if he had any idea of what had happened to him before he had awoken in the castle.

He considered it for awhile pensively. “I haven’t a clue,” he concluded at last. “When I awoke here as I say I had no memory of anything really and yet I had the sense to examine my surroundings and was able to read, as I’ve said, and seemed to have a...a general awareness,” he explained. “I do not know the name of the castle or this woods and yet I have never had the desire to leave it; not once.”

Beauty nodded in acknowledgement and understanding even though the truth itself was a tad confusing and raised further questions. She was certain he himself had no further explanation of it all. It would do no good to pry on.

“And you say this was only a few short years ago?”

“I’d imagine yes no more than...six, perhaps seven... I suppose I could count the number of winters I have spent at the castle but I forgot truly to take note of them...” He paused in realization. “For all I know, then, perhaps it has been ten or more years... Something within me tells me that’s not true but since my memory cannot confirm or deny such things I cannot entirely be sure then, can I?”

“No, I suppose not,” she murmured.