What had she expected? Certainly, not this.

The towering structure before her did not frighten her nearly as much as her imagination of it had. The stark bricks against the grey sky were imposing, like the stories of the creature inside. A creature that fed on the innocent, leaving bodies in its wake, no one who went in ever came out. Or so the stories go. People sent offerings up to it, money, clothes, fruit, anything they thought would appease it. They say you can hear howls from it's walls on a full moon. But that was all they were, right? Just stories to tell children, and newcomers, so that they would stay in line. Be good children, or else it is to the Beast with you.

When her family had moved to the village, they were treated to these stories of the vacant castle beyond the hills, with a beastly creature as it's master. And she knew, she knew, that they were just stories. Small villages like this always had stories. At least, that was what she had heard back in London. After all, who would believe in such things as beasts? But then...she wouldn't be there if it wasn't true.

How silly I am, thinking about my past when my future lies undetermined behind these very walls, when I face the myth from the stories.

Gathering her courage she made her way to the door. She never backed down from a challenge. Her siblings often told her that she was born the wrong sex, too headstrong to be a proper lady, too questioning, too studious for a woman. She liked to think that it was due to her curiosity that made her different than her friends inLondon- than any woman she knew, really. Why be idle when there were so many things she could be doing with her time. And if she was honest, her brothers weren't really good at listening to her father.

But there she was, struggling to find the courage in herself to go through with a spur of the moment plan. An act of bravery that she was trying to come to terms with.

Her frightened father's face came to her mind. With it, her resolve returned. She could do this. Even if it meant that it would likely end with her death. Which would be worth it, if it meant her family would survive. She held her hand up to knock on the large door- really, though, this door was ridiculous. You would think a king lived here, not a creature from nighttime tales. Should she really knock though? If this was to be her death march should she not just go in? Right, she will simply walk in. Deep breath.

Pushing open the door, Caroline walked into the castle.

The entryway was surprisingly well kept...nothing so far looked uninhabited. When she had walked up to the grounds it looked like the finest structure she had ever seen. Leaving her to question if it really was 'vacant', or if magic suddenly existed as well. She had not seen another soul, yet. Nothing to answer her growing list of questions either. True it was very early in the morning. The sun, just now cresting over the horizon.

Cautiously, she crept forward. The castle was nicely furnished. Dark woods, rich fabrics, an abundance of torches and candles to light the way. Whoever lived here had good taste and deep pockets. She came upon the great hall, on all sides were more doorways that led to who knew where. Maybe she should keep straight? Easier to keep track of where she's been after all.

As she stepped forward, she caught the sound of footsteps from her left. A man entered the room, book in hand, unaware of her presence. Confused at the sudden sight of another person, a fully normal man. His hair came down to his shoulders, dark brown waves a contrast to his strong, clean jaw. She fought to make a sound, raise her voice and call out, maybe this was all a misunderstanding. "Si-Sir," she stuttered in a soft voice. Where was her courage when she walked up to this bloody place?

His head snapped up at her, a quizzical look crossed his face, "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"Forgive me, I let myself in. I thought...this place was empty." How well articulated you are, Caroline? She scoffed at herself.

He closed his book, "Are you from the village?"

"No, well I suppose, yes. I am not making sense," she took a breath, "My family moved here a month ago. Do...do you know who resides here? Forgive my questions, I am...trying to piece together what's happening here." God in heaven, she sounded mad.

The man smiled softly, "My brother and I are the Lords of this castle."

Sighing, Caroline shook her head, "I knew they were just stories." Her hand flew up to her forehead, "My father was on his way back from the market when he happened upon your garden. He must have been in his cups, listening to too many stories. He told us he made a deal with the 'beast' of this castle. I came to take his place. How foolish of me? Please forgive me for disturbing you." She dropped a curtsey, quick to leave this embarrassment behind.

"Wait."

Oh, what now? Will he rub this in? Make jokes about it?

"What is your name?" He said with an expectant look on his face.

"Caroline...Forbes," she said, though a lie would have been better, correct?

He walked forward, book safely tucked under his arm, "I am afraid I cannot allow you to leave." Her heart dropped. "My brother made that deal with your father, you will have to talk to him about the particulars of the deal." His gaze traveled down and up, assessing her. "He will be down shortly," he paused, "In fact," he looked to his left as a new figure emerged from another doorway.

This man was the exact opposite of the man before her. Golden curls, stubbled jaw, and bright eyes. He was handsome, like his brother, if a bit more unkempt. But there was something dangerous about him. Maybe it was the confident walk, as he made his way towards us? Or was it the glint in his eyes as they looked at her.

Instinctively, she stuck her chin out and squared her shoulders. She was used to being looked down on. As the youngest of five, it happened too often. Even at parties and gatherings, people assumed she knew nothing. This man wouldn't make her a fool, no matter how embarrassing this little adventure was.

"Who do we have here, brother?" He smiled toothily. It set her nerves on edge, and not because of the sudden dimples he flashed that made her knees a touch weaker than she wanted. She was very aware that she was alone...with two, full-grown men. But he was looking at her like she was a meal, and he, the starving man.

"Caroline. I am here in my father's stead." There is that bravery you were missing earlier.

His brow rose, "You will take your father's place?"

"I will, but that depends on this deal he made. He claims that you are the monster from the town's stories. That he must be your prisoner, for picking a rose. I find fault in his tale, as you do not appear to be a beast, and a life sentence for picking a flower seems...childish." She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She was treating him as if he had called her honor into question. Not as a lord who was above her station.

He looked at her, finding some joke in her little speech. Where, she could not say? He smirked, "Call it what you want, love, but a deal is a deal. Why should I take you as my prisoner and not your father? I did warn him of the consequences."

She balked, "You are serious? Imprisonment, for picking a plant?"

"I am always serious, love. I found him touching what was mine, trying to steal it. He's lucky I did not kill him." He walked to the table, inspected the cutlery she had not noticed before. "If you decide to take his place, I will be merciful. Your father will live, Caroline." The way he says her name squeezes at her chest. He would kill my father for a flower?

Maybe he really is a monster?

But she had to go through with this, for her family, "If I have your word, I accept your deal." She would be a prisoner, maybe, die in a cell somewhere in this castle. But her father would live, and therefore, so would her family.

"Even if you die?"

"Yes." Though her blood went cold at his words, she was resolute.

His eyes bore into hers, she could not look away. He stalked closer to her, "You would die for your father?"

"For my family."

He smirked, showing her those dimples again, "I admire that." The man turned again, "Even if it is a foolish effort. I look forward to breaking that spirit of yours, Caroline."

"You can try," after all several people have tried already.

"Is that a challenge?" His body turned towards her again. That dark smile and bright eyes sending her nerves into a hurried frenzy, all saying the same thing, 'Do not do this, Caroline, it spells danger'. Slowly, he crept towards her, "Keep in mind, you're a prisoner now. A toy that will no doubt lose my interest and then I will dispose of you, like a horse that has broken its leg."

He caught one of her stray strands that had fallen out from under her cloth wrapped hair. Letting her hair go, he spun as he made his way back from whence he came. She was not a toy- how dare he- she would show him exactly what kind of spirit she had. With a frustrated huff, she walked over to the table, picked up a knife, and threw at him. Maybe she was mad herself, honestly, she had no clue why she had chosen to throw a knife and not some other thing, like a vase. It missed, thank the heavens, and embedded itself into the doorway frame. "Toy with that," she yelled at his back.

He was in front of her before she could even blink- how did he? The anger rolling off him did not frighten her. His eyes, though, now black and red, with veins spreading out to splay across his cheeks, those scared her. "I should kill you for that."

This was what her father was talking about. 'Eyes dark as night and red as blood', the words of her father bounced around her head. She was looking at the beast. But he was a man as well. Fear coursed through her body, but in her heart, she was as stubborn as ever. "Then go ahead."

This must be a dream, she was going insane and this was a hysterical delusion. Why was she baiting him? He had shown her the monster, curious as she was, she should fear him for it. Her breath heaved in and out, filling her lungs with precious air. Any second he would kill her in some unimaginable way. Take this life that she was foolishly offering him.

Suddenly, he smiled. White fangs flashing at her, finding her amusing. He remained, insufferably, silent, as he walked over to his brother. Gave him a look with a meaning she had no idea of. She took a shaky breath, waiting. For what? Who knew, a verdict? A sudden sword from this creature who could move in the blink of an eye? To her surprise, he resumed his retreat from the room. Leaving her alone with his brother.

The other man cleared his throat, "I will show you to your room." He started walking towards another doorway.

"Wait- my room?"

Pausing, he turned to her, "Yes. You will need to get cleaned up."

Looking down at her dress she could see why. She was a mess, no doubt dirty from yesterday's labor. Her skirts were ripped and patched, dark from the constant work in the garden she did. She must look a sight to these men...and why did she care again? Silently, she followed the stranger.