It took hours to get out of her hazy state. Soon her mind cleared and she remembered her encounter with the servant. He had put her under a spell. Like Beast, his servant was also learned in the ways of magic, she deduced.

"Bloody mages." She cursed.

Her heart filled with immense hatred for the man who introduced himself as Duval Freed.

"It seems like I should wait for Beast to return," she said aloud.

Milah awaited for return of the beast. He had been so considerate to her the previous night. She wished for proper communication with him. Her anger had subsided, and meeting that obnoxious servant allowed her to rethink her situation. She hoped to understand why she was brought there and if she could negotiate her freedom. Loneliness had made the time pass slowly. She didn't know how to entertain herself. She had no one to converse with, no tasks to perform. She refrained from entering Beast's chambers again. Though she thought of borrowing few books from that room. Anything to keep her mind occupied.

'Come on, Beast', she was impatient. 'You are the most horrible host I ever met in my life, leaving a lady alone in such a huge place.'

Finally, the night came. She had awaited the whole day for Beast to return. But with the passaging hour, she grew impatient. She wrapped herself in warm cape and went out to wait. Beast didn't came home.

She was sure Beast would be back at least to spend the night in his home. Her dinner remained untouched. She passed her time by brushing her flowy red locks and braiding them in intricate plaits. She soon got bored and engaged herself with watching those disturbing portrayals of creatures unknown, fire and brimstone, and other horrid imagery of bloodshed.

"What a bad taste in art!" she exclaimed. "I will paint some lively pictures for this gloomy castle."

Milah once again tried every door in the castle. Aside from the chambers assigned to her and Beast's study, only one room opened up. The room contained essential furniture and a huge portrait of a young woman with the blackest hair and palest of skin. She was dressed in the fashion of an unknown era. Milah didn't recall ever seen that style of dressing and hairdo. The woman in the picture was pleasant to look at but she had a scar on her face. Milah thought the scar complimented her well and gave her a fierce tone.

She wondered if the woman in an image was someone related to Beast, perhaps a lover from a foreign nation. Milah opened a wardrobe hoping to find some clues that could lead to the scarred woman. The wardrobe contained rows and rows of dresses, robes, garments she did not know. In the corner was a small chest. Milah took it out, placed it on the huge bed. It was locked.

She searched for the key in the wardrobe, under the pillow, inside the drawers. There was none.

Milah felt disappointed. Soon she fell asleep in the same room, dreaming about a mysterious scarred woman.

..........

He ran out as the dawn broke. It was arduous for him to remain in the same accommodations with that feisty woman. He had dwelled all those decades in seclusion. He was content. He had no desire to leave his dwellings. Old Ones vigilantly watched over him, making sure being like him did not bring about the same catastrophe he caused ages before.

A raven screeched.

"Good morning to you too, my comrade." He watched the raven circling upon his head in rings.

"Old one is making you work hard again, huh?" Perfectly aware that raven won't be responding to his questions. A sigh left his lips.

"Well, comrade. I hope you watch over me till you are relieved of this duty."

He slowly walked towards his tower to the outskirts of his estate. He planned to stay there till that woman is in his castle. He felt pathetic for running away from his own home but it was for the best. He remembered her sitting on a cold floor outside his study. He admired her bravery. She wasn't fearful of him. That was difficult for him to acknowledge.

'What was I thinking when I picked her up?' he condemned himself.

"What an unusual eyes she had." He wondered aloud. "Are those hair real? Blazing red?"

Not that remembered much from his old days. He had hardly seen anyone outside his family and servants. His clearest recollection was of his sister who was of black hair and dark eyes. Most of his servants were of brown hair and dark eyes. Those vibrant moss green eyes and crimson hair were unusual.

'Is she regarded as a beauty?' he speculated. Duval had said so.

"Comrade," he called raven who was sitting on the window sill. "I don't even know what beauty is anymore."

He felt sadness creeping on him after so many years.

'I am repenting for the sins I have done. My mind mustn't think about that woman.' He scolded himself.

"There is no way I deserve even a mild amusement in my life, right? A monster, a beast shouldn't have any right to enjoy his life." He reached out to raven who snapped at him.

He thought of visiting the woods, perhaps some Fae took kindness upon him and exchange few words with him. He sat back on the old chair in the cabin.

He took out his book and started to read.

'It will kill some days." He assured himself.

As always, the book talked about corpses, not how to change an immortal being into a dead one.

........