Perhaps it would have been better if Evelyn had brought along a knife...

That was her first thought as she hesitated by the door. She knew that she was a guest here, and that she would not be harmed. She knew that the master was bloody stark raving mad, and quite possibly had a temper, but was well-writ at the same time. She knew he was not human, and that somehow the enchanted servants of this castle were loyal to him. However, after the fraught time she had been through, a little extra protection would not have been amiss.

Snap out of it! She thought to herself. With a deep, calming breath, she strode into the dining hall. It was dark, and dank, and the only light came from the crackling fireplace and the two candles on the long table. The carpet was worn, and torn, and the air of melancholy was ever-present. At the head of the table sat the master, shrouded by a cloak and the shadows that swirled around him.

Noting that her place seemed to be at the other end of the table, she made her way over. Mustering up a smile, made harder by the fact that she had not attempted a smile in quite a while, Evelyn sat down, smoothed her skirts with her fingers, and waited for the dinner to start.

Thankfully there was no music or other forms of entertainment, and no spectacle was made. Plates, laden with customary French – and English – fare seemed to appear out of nowhere, all clustered around her. So much food, so much choice – Evelyn had almost forgotten the joys of eating. Now that she had grieved a little, and now had a new mystery, a new adventure, to occupy her mind, she was able to eat quail and roast chicken and vol-aux-vent and Caesar salad without it tasting like ash in her mouth. Of course, she was judicious in her portions, and ate everything neatly, but it was the best meal she had eaten in a long while.

Once the plates had vanished – yet another facet to this cursed castle – and other plates, now with pudding, appeared, Evelyn took the opportunity to study the master of the castle. There was a single plate in front of him, and a single goblet beside the plate, and not once had he eaten anything. Now he drank from the goblet, seeming to study her – trying to get a measure of her, Evelyn gathered. It was when pudding was done that the silence was broken.

"Why did you not hesitate, before partaking in the meal? Not afraid of poison, or other tampering?" The voice was low, and hoarse, unlike when he had been shouting at the boy, and had a slight accent to it that Evelyn could not place at first – until she remembered that this was a French castle, in France.

"Really, I would have thought you had taken a better measure of me already... I made myself clear earlier. I asked all the pertinent questions in order to ascertain where we stood, and once told that there would be no murdering of the guest, I moved onto more important things. When invited to such a feast, prepared with such extravagance and care, in the place my father stayed unscathed until his misfortune of taking a rose," – there she sneered, just a bit, "I would think my mind would be on other matters than whether or not the delicious meal prepared for me was poisoned. Especially if one considers the servants I have just met. No, 'tis highly unlikely that I would be poisoned now, so unlikely that it offends what intelligence I possess!"

"You have met the servants, then, eh?" he spoke again, ignoring her other words.

"Yes. They are – special, certainly. I shall enjoy continuing my acquaintance with them, as I am told forever is quite a long time. Oh, and I am called Evelyn, in case you wanted to know." There she smiled a little, enjoying this slightly sharp-edged banter.

"Evelyn. La folle is named Evelyn," he muttered to himself, ruby-red eyes still fixed on her.

"La folle? Is that what you think me? Well, then, we make a good pair then, master-of-the-castle who is bloody stark raving mad."

"You think me...mad? Let me tell you something, little Evelyn. I am a lot more than 'bloody stark raving mad,' and you would do well to remember it..." he hissed, words sharper somehow.

"Was that a statement, or a threat?" Evelyn inquired in turn, more curious than shaken.

"Elle est vraiment folle, cette petite fille..." he muttered to himself, one hand playing with the goblet.

"Well, I have been accused of much, much worse, so I do believe I will be taking that as a compliment." With that, Evelyn produced her own version of a beaming face – which was rather pathetic but still better than a grimace nonetheless – and sat up straighter. In all her musings since her new situation had manifested itself, she had never prepared for a master-of-the-castle who was not only bloody stark raving mad, but who had a sharp mind as well. Though their interactions thus far had been fairly limited, Evelyn knew, just as she had known with the messenger and Iros the beggar, that there was something more substantial, intelligent, about him.

There was a bit of silence next, as they both took the measure of each other, and Evelyn reveled in the fact that for once, the meal in front of her was not one she had prepared, and all the normal upkeep chores had been done by those servants, and that if she wanted she could rest for just a bit. Of course, now she had no concrete reason to drag herself up every morning – but instead, a mystery. And a mysterious role that was most definitely not that of servants.

Getting prepared to enquire as to what her purpose would be here – and whether she would have time to indulge that side of her that craved mysteries and challenges and the like – an errant thought popped into her head straight to her mouth. So instead, before really censuring her words, what she said was, "I have told you my name, master-of-the-castle, but I have yet to learn yours. Perhaps, beside feeding me delicious food that-is-not-poisoned, you could indulge me in this request? Because forever is a long, long time, and master-of-the-castle is just too tedious to use for such a range of time."

Ruby eyes stared back at her, as if completely nonplussed by her words, and then narrowed into obvious anger. Clearly, the maxim that one could actually read emotions in eyes was true in the case of this enchanted man-creature. For lack of a better term.

Oops... She had apparently hit a nerve. Note to self – names are a dangerous business. And then again, perhaps this had something to do with the Fae, and names were a tricky thing with them. Not her best idea, then.

"You dare!" he hissed, absolutely furious. "My name? I am naught but a nameless creature, folle." He spat the last word out, more as an insult than a moniker.

"I understand that, I do. Especially with magyks and the Fae and rules of enchantments. I need not your true name, truly. But, I would like something to call you. It need to be the one given at birth or some such."

"Never. I have no name. I am naught but shadows and hatred, and you would do best to remember that."

Suddenly affronted, Evelyn retorted, "The last sentence – is it some type of call-phrase? Like the villains have in novels sometimes? It is repetitive, you know. Mayhap it's the lack of company that makes your vocabulary so stagnant. I would work on that, given that you, along with myself, have forever. As for the name thing – you wish to tell me nothing? Fine! If you are nothing but shadows, and have no name, then you shall be Nobody! Fine name, that. Although I do think Odysseus was much more of a charmer than you."

Smirking slightly, and pleased with herself, Evelyn watched as the master warred with shock and anger, which seemed his default emotions.

"What did you say?"

"I merely gave you a name, Nobody. I have to call you something, don't I?"

"I am not nobody – nor Nobody! I have never even met a cyclops, much less killed one by sneaking into their cave via their carnivorous herd – do not call me that!"

"Well, it is like I said. I have to call you something, and Nobody seems just the thing. Don't you think?"

With that came a pause, in which a lot of glaring was done – the urge to have a knife nearby had largely evaporated, but just in case Evelyn was glad to be on the other side of the table. In order to have a slight advantage should there be any deadly provoked reactions, just in case.

Then, the master-of-the-castle took a deep breath, relaxed his stance, and said in a rougher voice, "I will not give you the name I had been given at birth. And no, la folle, it is not because of the Fae. It is because that person is long since dead. But if the best you can come up with is Nobody, which is ridiculous as I am not an Ancient Greek warrior nor a character in your female poet's repertoire, you may refer to me as....Thorn. Appropriate, I think, considering your other choice."

"Thorn," Evelyn said, testing the name on her tongue. "Thank you very much, Mr. Thorn, for sparing me the humiliating experience of living in the same castle as someone with no name to address them by." With a nod, she came back to her pudding. The pudding was very good. And not very French.

They sat together for a while more, not really saying anything. But that was fine, Evelyn knew, as the hours ticked by and the fire burned lower. Because though she was trapped for eternity in a cursed castle with over-enthusiastic servants and shadow hounds that had killed her whole family, and there was a role to find and mysteries to bring to light, these dinners with Nobody – Thorn, in fact, might not be so bad. 

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Finally! So sorry for the long absence! Hope this chapter makes up for it! 

Remember to let me know what you think of this chapter - and the Beast's name! :)