"Oh, I'm going to turn in early. I'm not feeling very well," Isabelle lied as she walked up to the group of girls, clutching her stomach for emphasis when in reality, she should have been clutching her heart where the real pain festered.

Truthfully, she just wanted to be alone. Socializing had become stressful and she was tired. She'd spent the night wishing it had all been a terrible nightmare and that, perhaps, she would soon wake up from this horrible dream.

Ah, if only wishes like that came true.

"Fine," Jacqueline pursed her lips in frustration, rolling her eyes as though Isabelle's words had just ruined the evening's plans. Isabelle was not at all sorry for it.

"What a bore." Jacqueline whirled on her heels, blonde hair whipping sharply across Isabelle's cheeks as the haughty girl walked off leading the others like a mother hen towards a nearby stall to survey the limited selection of clothes and trinkets. Isabelle could hear the girl's snarky comments squawking even from a distance. "Bet she's just embarrassed at having uncrossed her legs so early."

Indignation coursed through Isabelle at the implied idea that she had done anything of that sort with the king. And even if she'd had... the mere thought of his claws on her churned her stomach. Perhaps her feigned illness wouldn't be a lie after all.

The other girls let out giggles in response, as disgust rolled around with her dinner.

Good riddance. She was glad to be free from Jacqueline's piercing stare and her little cluster of followers.

Liberation lifted the weight of fear and loneliness from her chest and she reveled in her moment of false freedom. If only for tonight, she could pretend that her life was her own, as though her choices were her own, at least until the gray dawn rose and she was pulled back to the palace once again.

Isabelle took her time as she meandered through the web of people, waiting until she was sure that Jacqueline and her crew had gone away before continuing on her own way through the night market. It was the liveliest affair she had witnessed in quite some time.

Lamps hung from every stall corner, illuminating the stalls and all their goods, while the lampposts erected in the square shed a warm glow, seemingly to drive away the darkness and all that lurked within it. Isabelle spotted a few horned heads, and caught a glimpse of a tail or two, but it appeared that most of the crowd were human. The smell of fried bread and sweet cakes mingled in the night air, mixing in with the scent of damp earth.

Stalls were set up in a large circle surrounding the plaza and peddling their meager wares of rusted trinkets, jewelry, and moth-bitten clothes––probably scavenged from the abandoned homes in the lower city. Although, none could hold a candle to the jewels that adorned the creatures that called this place home.

As she browsed through the stalls, a glint of silver caught her eyes. It was a beautiful silver chain, delicately made, with a single rose dangling as a miniscule pendant.

Rosie.

Without thinking, she reached out to brush her fingers against the delicate rose, her heart constricted with the thought of her friend still trapped in the clutches of the beastly King. She only hoped his interest towards the small mouse had not yet waned.

"Would the pretty miss like a necklace?" An old woman sitting to the left of the stall asked, flashing a gap-toothed smile at her. "Two Francs a piece."

Two Francs? The carefully crafted necklace was worth a little more than just that. It wasn't a thing made of true craftsmanship to capture the interest of nobles, but Isabelle could tell that it must have been made earnestly out of love.

Isabelle returned the smile of the old woman, grateful to glance upon another human face.

"Oh, no thank you," she responded politely. "I'm just looking."

"I see," the old woman hummed, looking slightly disappointed. Isabelle would have liked to help the woman out, but with a single franc as allowance she simply could not afford it. Already, that was barely enough for a hot meal.

It was no wonder the other girls had saved up for so long for this festival—at a single franc a month it was no better than a beggar's pot.

Isabelle gave the stall owner an apologetic smile and started to turn away when she was suddenly pushed aside.

"Out of the way!" A bear-like woman growled, glaring down at the display before her. She flashed her long canines in distaste. "Huh. Nothing but junk."

"I'm afraid this is all I have," the stall-owner stated, her mouth set in a hard line.

"No wonder this is a human affair –they only offer trash." With a snort of disgust, the bear-like woman lumbered away through the crowd on large paws, her obnoxiously ornate overcoat gliding on the ground behind her not unlike a long golden tail.

Isabelle released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and turned at the sound of the old woman's chuckle.

"You'll get used to it, my dear."

Isabelle offered a shaky smile. "I'm not sure I want to."

The old woman laughed, the sound warm and melodic, like the low bells of a church. "Hang on to that spark child, you will need it soon enough."

Isabelle's head cocked at the woman's words; they seemed to hold a weight of foreboding, but she wasn't sure she wanted to inquire further. Instead, she gave the woman a smile as a farewell and started to leave when the woman jutted her hand out towards her.

"A gift."

"Gift?" Puzzled, Isabelle extended her hand and gasped when the woman placed the rose necklace into it. " Oh, I couldn't possibly! I-I can't afford it."

"Please, I would like you to have it. It would look far better on that pretty neck of yours than collecting dust on this table."

Isabelle fished the single franc out of her pocket in an effort to pay at least half of the amount, but the old woman shook her head, stopping her.

"A gift, dearie."

"O-Oh, then thank you very much. It was lovely to meet you." Isabelle curtsied respectfully to the elder before taking her leave and continuing on her way, weaving through the sights and smells of the crowded space.

Her stomach protested with a growl as the warm scent of fried bread filled her senses, her nose leading her to a small stall where a jolly-looking man stood with reddened cheeks, short locks, and a flour-covered face. His eyes were focused on the spinning dough in his palm as a pan of butter sizzled over the fire.

"What can I get ya, Missy?" A bright, welcoming smile automatically brought out her own shy one.

"A flat bread and some spiced wine, please."

"That'll be a Franc, Miss!"

And just like that, she handed over her meager wages to satiate the hole in her stomach.

Isabelle sat under a large oak tree, with her knees tucked to her chest, picking at the fried novelty and savoring each bite. Indeed, it was a coin well spent and she enjoyed her quiet moment, watching the bustling activity of the festival pass her by.

There was a sudden sound of shuffling, startling her.

"I told you... it's too risky."

It was a woman's voice, a whisper laced with anxiety, and it came from behind the tree that Isabelle was under. She froze for a moment, scrunching herself closer to the trunk of the tree and hoping she was as invisible as she hoped to be.

"It's one of their own who's organizing the charge, so don't worry, I'll be safe." Another woman's voice, lower, rougher.

"You can't trust those souless things!" The first woman's voice raised in ire. "What if they sell you out? It's the palace, Natti! Gaston's the–"

"Shush! Damn it, Lora! Why don't you just shout it to the whole square!"

"I'm sorry I'm just—"

"I know, I know. And I said it's gonna work, just... trust me. All you have to do is keep quiet and continue with your duties. Act natural. Remember after the Sabbat— meet me at the West entrance."

"Okay."

"I love you."

"Me too."

Isabelle heard the locking of lips, and then a shuffle of footsteps before all was quiet again.

Only the rustle of autumn leaves swaying in the wind filled the night around her and the tree she hid under. She waited a moment longer, mind spinning with what she had just heard. Was something happening? What was a Sabbat? She was afraid to talk to anyone. Afraid to ask, but... perhaps the witch could be trusted.

There was a rumble, and her head lifted up to the heavens to see swollen dark clouds threatening to let loose wet tears unto the earth. The wind picked up, tossing loose wisps of her hair around her face.

Isabelle dusted off the borrowed dress and made her way up the road, the scent of a brewing storm heavy in the air. Thick clouds hid the moon's glow, swallowing the world into a hole of endless darkness, darkness that was only broken by the patches of lights twinkling through the castle's windows.

The first drops hit her face halfway up the road.

She picked up the pace as the heavens rained down harder, the damp cold seeping through the fabric and into her bones. She could hardly see what was in front of her and the sound of thunder sounded terribly like a deep rumbling growl at her back, sending a ripple of fear up her spine. Isabelle could not see like those monsters in the dark. Alone at night, she would be easy prey. She broke into a sprint then, feet sloshing through the muddy earth.

Relief washed through her as the wooden side door, of the servants' entrance, came into view through the thick downpour. White-knuckled and afraid, she rapped sharply on the door, shivering violently as she waited.

"Hello?" She knocked harder this time. "Please, let me in!"

Her fists pounded on the heavy door with enough strength to bruise. She waited a while longer but still, no one came.

Isabelle peeled away the long slick hair from her face, eyes darting around to find shelter.

The stables.

Stumbling through the dark, she kept her eyes fixed on the hanging lamplight waving in the wind, signalling the stable's entrance. Using what of her strength remained, she heaved on the double doors, the heavy wood groaning loudly as they opened up, allowing her sanctuary from the growing storm.

She breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the closed doors to gain her bearings. The sound of horses nickering at her arrival drew her eyes over. It appeared they were excited to see her, probably hoping for a prospect of food.

She winced apologetically, moving towards the horses to get a better look at them. A frighteningly loud sound of thunder caused Isabelle to squeak in fear and cower against one of the stalls, her heart beating so very heavily in her chest.

A nudge at her back startled Isabelle into whirling around, hand over her heart—oh.

A pair of familiar almond eyes stared down at her from the face of a very handsome black stallion, its obsidian coat shining in the amber glow of the stable's light. A smile drew itself onto Isabelle's face as she recognized him to be the very horse that had brought her to this palace, the one she'd tried to run off with.

"Hello..." she glanced down at the name plate hanging by the stall door, "...Philip."

The horse nuzzled at her hands, sniffing around, and he snorted in disdain when he realized she did not have what he was looking for.

"I'm sorry, boy, I don't have any food for you..." she looked around the barn and noticed the hay pile in the corner, as well as a bucket of oats. She grabbed what she could and tossed it into his stall, only to realize what a mistake she's committed. The other horses whinnied for their share, and soon Isabelle found herself doing a round of feeding, using a wheelbarrow to help her along with her sudden new job.

Once she was sure all the horses were happy with their sudden mealtime, she went over to Philip's stall, quietly unlocking the gate and slipping in, moving slowly so as to not spook him. It was dreadfully stormy outside, and there was no empty stall within the stable, so surely no one would come in at this time. The hay clung to her wet dress and after debating for a few moments, she peeled the garment off, hanging it over the stall to dry, and leaving her in her white undergarments.

"You don't mind me joining you, do you, handsome boy?" she asked the stallion. "I'm rather cold and could do with some friendly company."

The beautiful horse nickered quietly and she grinned.

"Why, thank you."

She wrung out her long wet locks just outside Philip's stall, the water dripping onto the stone floor. A shiver took over her body, reminding her of how cold she was. Isabelle flexed her fingers, trying to bring back the feelings in her hands that had gotten a little numb. She had to get warm.

Philip watched her quietly, curiously and unable to help herself, she ran slow gentle fingers across his neck and down his back, humming a low quiet tune. She could feel the beast relax beneath her touch and she continued her petting until his head hung low and his bottom lip drooped open in contentment. Then swiftly, she launched herself up, onto his back. He shifted slightly, quieting down after a few more pats on the neck. She leaned forward slowly, arms wrapping loosely around his neck, laying across him to try and soak up as much heat as she could.

"Thank you for allowing me to enjoy your company," she murmured as her shaking slowly stilled, melting into his warmth, her eyes becoming heavy. "Your owner must have taught you such lovely, gracious manners..."

The hum in the air felt a little warm, the sounds of thunder becoming distant as drowsiness started to take over—

CRACK!

The stable doors burst open with such an alarming sound, Isabelle very nearly fell right off Philip's back. Back to full attention, she silently slid off and backed into the corner, avoiding the horse's rear end.

She peeked over the stall in time to see a large hooded figure stomp in, slamming the doors shut just as loudly as when they'd opened it.

A large clawed hand reached up to remove its cowl, and the beast shook its fur, sending droplets of water through the air, the effect strikingly like crystals sparkling in the amber light.

Philip nickered in welcome at their guest. Ruby red eyes flashed her way and she ducked back down, heart thundering in surprise.

Adam.

Did he see her? She kept very still, hoping he didn't. She wasn't dressed very appropriately at the moment... her eyes widened, darting to where her dress was hung. Please don't let him notice!

For a few painstakingly long moments, there was silence, and then footsteps as Adam made his way over to where Isabelle was hiding.

Of course he would, she was hiding in his horse's stall!

"Hello, boy." The familiar rumbling baritone greeted his charge. "I see someone's been spoiling you. Any more and you're going to get fat."

Philip snorted in response, and Isabelle stared at the horse in horror, more specifically, his stomach. Well, he didn't seem in any danger of gaining weight from a single midnight snack...

A deep throated chuckle bubbled up and echoed through stables, the sound so unusual but so very charming, like the warm pot of cider she'd drank earlier. Did he just laugh?

She tilted her head to the side, enjoying the very rare sound... until she heard the click of the latch as Adam let himself into the stall.

Isabelle shrunk lower, trying to blend into the landscape and hoping to look like a large white rock. Who was she kidding, he would spot her instantly. There was no way around it, she would have to make a run for it. She twisted her neck to glance out at the entrance of the stall. Once Adam moved away from the gate, she could dart out, grab her dress, and run. Perhaps she'll give everyone a show of her indecency while she's at it.

Caught up in her mental musings and plans for escape, she failed to notice the hot breath on the back of her neck.

"Isabelle?"

Isabelle shrieked, stumbling as her legs were not ready to comply with her plans.

"Shh," a massive paw clamped lightly over her mouth, causing her to thrash against his iron grip.

She tried to step on his feet, but couldn't figure out where they were.

"I won't hurt you," Adam murmured, his voice a soothing tone. "I promise."

Isabelle calmed slightly at his words, easing her movements, and immediately, the paw lifted from her face. She turned slowly to face him, noticing the beast's eyes scanning her haggard appearance and indecent garb.

If beasts could blush, she had a feeling that he would be blushing with the way he jerked back and looked everywhere else but at her.

"I-I'll go."

He hesitated, red eyes peering down into her own brown ones, an endless depth of crimson sorrow reflected back at her. He lingered for a moment longer, before the familiar looming frame turned, letting himself out of the stall and toward the doors. It was the look in his eyes that gave her the courage to speak.

She darted out, not wanting to let this miscommunication between them last even longer.

"Adam! Wait!" Isabelle caught him in the aisle, shaky fingers clinging weakly to the end of his muddied cloak. Her grip was so loose that he could have continued on, but he stopped at the feel of her light touch.

The cold bit into her exposed skin, making her tremble.

"St-stay." She managed to get the words past her lips. As much as she feared the creature that had chased her through the dark, she knew that wasn't him. She knew that this version of him was safe. Or perhaps, she was wrong and he would do away with her immediately but she took a chance on the good she'd seen in that gaze.

He turned to her, his muzzle staring down, giving her a view of the rows of sharp teeth as he spoke.

"Are you not afraid I will harm you?"

"No," the answer left her lips immediately, surprising even herself. "I'm sorry. Last time, it was my fault... and I know that now. I will be careful." There was an implication of 'in more ways than one' that she hoped he understood.

There was a beat of silence as they looked at each other for a moment, and then he glanced away.

"Um," he cleared his throat, looking around the space. "I suppose we should warm up first before heading out. Wait here."

Adam disappeared into a room at the end of the barn, coming out with two blankets, draping one over her. They were stall blankets, made of rough wool, but it was warm, and she smiled gratefully at him.

He turned away, slumping down on a pile of hay, his blanket wrapped loosely over his lap. Isabelle moved to join him, sitting closer to the door and just out of his arm's reach. They sat there in awkward silence, Isabelle fiddling with her blanket looking for something to fill the void, before suddenly remembering something she had wanted to know about.

"Would... um..."

He turned at the sound of her voice, watching her attentively and patiently waiting, as she searched to find her voice.

"Would you tell me your story of what had... happened?"

He gave her a questioning look and when she indicated his form, an exasperated sigh left him. It was clearly not the topic he'd hoped for. Nevertheless, he humored her.

"What is it you seek to know?"

"How did you become..." Isabelle let her sentence trail off, knowing he would understand the words she was unable to say.

"Ah. I thought the gossip would have caught your ears by now." He sounded almost sardonic.

She braved on, leaning forward ever so slightly. "It has, but I would very much like to hear it from you."

The Beast's eyes widened a fraction, caught off guard by her honesty. He looked down at his beastly hands and then back at her before back at his hands. He seemed to be in contemplation.

But Isabelle was not in any hurry. She gathered the blanket and inched slightly closer, turning her body so that she could face him.

"This land was cursed by a sorceress, for my brother's foolish mistake." He stopped speaking, hoping that would be enough to satiate her curiosity but her expectant gaze said otherwise and so he continued.

"They came from the far west on a cold winter night to seek shelter in our village. Two sisters, both with hair pale as the snow they sought sanctuary from. The older with eyes like a cat, cold and green like hard gems. And the younger, with fair skin and brown eyes, warm and beautiful- like yours."

The comment caught her off guard. She met his eyes for a breath, seeing something burning in the red, before tearing her to focus on the straw instead. She picked up a piece, twirling it in her fingers as heat crept up the back of her neck.

He continued on as if he'd said nothing unwonted. "The younger sister, Danielle, enchanted my brother at first sight. It was a short courtship. He asked for her hand a month later, when the snow thawed, they married in spring. The eldest sister, Layanna left to continue her trip, entrusting Henry to take care of her young sister.

His eyes darkened as he continued. "But my brother did not cherish the girl. She was just a pretty thing to him. Another trophy for his collection and soon his eyes wandered toward other women, other pleasures."

Isabelle withdrew into herself, wrapping the blanket round tighter as the memories of just how cruel the king could be flooded to the front of her mind.

"When the eldest sister came back to visit, she was enraged to find the shell of a woman her sister had become. She saw the greed and corruption that poisoned the king and the courtiers he kept. She drew upon old magic, dark magic and the sky became black at night. I was out in the courtyard running drills with the knights when the feeling struck. Hot. Like an iron rod through my chest. All around, I saw soldiers' faces warp with fear, as bones snapped and screams filled their lungs turning us into something twisted. She had cursed all those on the palace grounds. Cursed us to wear the face of our sins until the king finds the light of repentance. Selflessness, she called it." He snorted. "We'll all rot in this damnation before Henry learns the meaning of that word."

Isabelle shuffled closer, braver now after hearing him speak for so long, and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. Adam flinched at her touch, but did not move away.

"I do not think you are beyond salvation. I am sure there is a way."

She looked up a myriad of emotions flickering across his face. "Thank you." he mumbled quietly.

The two conversed late into the night. Isabelle shares pieces of her home and childhood. Adam would listen, asking a question here and there when something caught his interest. She talked of happier times. Times when her parents were both alive and it wasn't long before her eyes grew heavy and her throat dry. The blanket and sound of rain pinged off the tin roof and she curled into the warmth of her blanket, lulled into a deep sleep.

🌙

"What are you doing here?" A prodding at her back startled her awake. Isabelle looked around, groggy and confused. She was still in the barn. The dark grey light announcing the bleakness of day through the high windows and Adam was nowhere to be found.

A boy stared down, leaning on his pitchfork, with matted straw hair that matched the bedding she'd spent the night on and a curious gaze. He prodded her once more with the end of his pitchfork before she swatted him away. Her eyes widened in realization. Day. It was already daytime. She was late!

PROCEED TO CHAPTER 13