Chapter 6

As shocked as she was at this odd book, Alana found herself talking to it quite often. A few days passed her by without seeing the beast at all, and her arms were soon healed. As she didn't dare go outside, she resumed wandering the castle. The number of amazing rooms never ended, and she could spend days and not go in the same room twice. But she didn't get lost once, and Thomas didn't come to see her.

The weather was fast moving on to winter, and the wardrobe in Alana's room changed yet again, even though the castle was quite warm. A fire blazed in every room as outside the trees began to quickly lose their colorful leaves.

One day, Alana found herself in an art gallery of sorts. There were portraits of regal men and women, seemingly looking down their rather large noses with scorn at Alana as she walked around. She stopped in front of a picture of what she assumed to be parents and their daughter. The daughter was smiling happily as her parents' hands lay on her shoulders.

"My family."

Alana jumped sky-high at the sound of his gruff voice.

"Good gracious," she said, holding a hand to her chest, trying to regain her breath.

"Are you well?" he asked.

"Yes, you just startled me," she said.

"I am sorry."

"It's fine."

They stood silently for a moment or two, avoiding each other's eyes across the room. Suddenly, he walked toward her and stood next to her, gazing at the portrait. She looked up at him, but the look in his eyes was indecipherable.

"Your family, you said?" she asked timidly.

"Yes."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"You must miss them," she offered.

He made a sound in his throat, but nodded. The fire was glinting off his fur, giving him a soft sort of glow. Alana felt her nervousness start to ebb away.

"I wanted to apologize," he said, not looking at her.

Puzzled, she asked, "What for?"

"For forbidding you to go outside. It was a rash decision, and I cannot keep you locked up like some prisoner," he said, lowering his head.

She shook her head. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. You were absolutely right; I completely disobeyed your rules," she said remorsefully.

"You were not at fault, however; the zoreh flower has fooled many a person."

"So I've heard," she said, giving him a small smile. He finally looked over at her. They gazed at each other for a moment or two, but then the beast broke away, returning his stare to the picture. Alana shrugged to herself and sat down on the bench near them. She also looked at the picture, wondering about the curse.

"You do not believe me," he said, looking at her puzzled face.

"It's not that, it's-" she trailed off.

He came over to her and sat down. "The curse?" he said.

She looked down at her hands, twisting the ring on her finger. "Well," she said, "yes, I suppose so."

He also looked at her hands. "I shall tell you someday," he said, "when you are ready."

She nodded. "I understand." She continued to frenetically twist the ring, until she felt his hand – paw – on top of her own.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"It is a beautiful ring," he said, looking at it.

"Thank you."

"But you will have no finger left if you continue to twirl it so madly."

She smiled and gave a soft laugh.

He stood up suddenly. "I should be leaving," he said, walking to the door. She stood up as well, but returned her attention to the portrait.

"Alana?"

She turned around to find him still at the door.

"Yes?"

"Perhaps, that is, if you would like, you could join me for dinner?" he said; his rumbling voice had an edge of nervousness.

Surprised, she said, "Yes, of course."

He nodded and left the room, leaving Alana to continue wondering about the portrait.


Alana took her time getting ready for dinner; Joy had picked out a gorgeous crimson dress and Hope had done her hair. She did a little twirl for the fairies as they applauded.

"You look ravishing," Joy said happily.

Alana was very curious as to why the two fairies seemed so immensely overjoyed that she looked so lovely. They were definitely hiding something from her.

"Well, time to go," Hope said, ushering Alana out of her room. She followed them down a set of hallways that Alana hadn't yet reached on her travels. They stopped in front of a set of great mahogany doors edged in gold. Joy and Hope winked at her, then fluttered away. Alana grabbed the huge lion-head door handle and pulled.

She was in the most beautiful and grandest dining room she had ever seen. She had thought the one at her own castle was impressive, but this topped it by a long shot. Floor to ceiling windows let in the setting sun, an enormous fireplace was aglow, a long, vast oak table was set in the middle of the room, shining with many candles, and a magnificent chandelier twinkled on the ceiling. Her head still craning every which way, Alana stepped down the carpeted stairs. Thomas, wearing a very fine satin cloak, was standing by one of the chairs. He held it out for her as she came closer.

"Good evening, Alana," he said.

"Good evening, Thomas," she replied, smiling at him. "This dining room is wonderful!"

The edge of his mouth twitched as if he was going to smile, but instead he nodded. She sat down in the chair he held out for her. Then he left her side and walked all the way to the other end of the table, so that she could barely see him.

"Is this how we are to eat?" she asked, amused.

"Yes," he said, sounding surprised. "Why?"

"You're so far away," she said simply. "I practically have to shout."

He seemed puzzled. Sighing, she got out of her chair and walked down to his end of the table, and sat down in the chair to the left of him. Settling herself, she turned and smiled at him.

"See? Now I could whisper and you would still hear me," she said.

He looked extremely confused, but just then a bowl of soup was placed down in front of them. Alana turned to thank whoever had set it there, but she could see no one. Shrugging, she picked up her spoon and began to eat.

After they were done with their soup, and it had mysteriously disappeared, Alana returned to examining the room.

"This really is splendid," she said, more to herself than to him. She leaned over the back of her chair, staring at the carpet.

"It's moving!" she exclaimed. The patterns in the carpet were twirling around and around.

He gave what she supposed was a laugh. "Yes," he said. "I wonder why, it hasn't done so in a very long time."

She laughed herself, and then turned back to face him.

"Alana," he said.

"Yes?"

"May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

He paused, searching for the right words. "Do you feel like a prisoner here?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"Do you miss your family terribly?"

She laughed. "Hardly, and I doubt they miss me."

He looked shocked. "What do you mean?"

"My family barely recognized I even existed," she explained. "I doubt they notice any difference. I, on the other hand, think my situation has greatly improved."

"How so?"

"Well, for one, people around here actually acknowledge me. I have people to talk to, who actually listen to me. It's a very nice change," she said with a smile.

He grew silent again. Alana sighed; she had hoped that maybe if she shared some of her feelings with him, he might do the same. She knew nothing about him; she didn't even really know what he was like. And yet, she felt amazingly comfortable around him. He wasn't even that menacing-looking, if you thought about it.

He felt his eyes on her and looked up. He was about to say something when the next course arrived.

They ate in silence. Alana couldn't help but think of a million questions she would want to ask him, if she got the chance.

Thomas, on the other hand, was beginning to regret asking her to dinner. Having her sitting there, looking so beautiful and acting so natural, was making him feel very uncomfortable. He knew she wanted to get to know him, and felt sorry that she had shared so much with him and he still had told her nothing.

The course was over, and Alana was still staring around at the room like a small child. She fingered the elaborate candlesticks, gazed at the chandelier, and continued to stare at the carpet. Then her eyes caught something she hadn't noticed before; a beautiful grand piano. He noticed where she was looking and decided this was his chance.

"My mother and sister loved to play," he told her. She looked back at him in surprise.

"May I?" she asked tentatively, gesturing toward the piano.

"Of course," he said.

She rose from her seat and walked over to the piano. She lifted the dusty cover, and touched the even dustier keys. She placed her fingers over the smooth ivory, and began to play a song that her grandmother had taught her many years ago. The piano was slightly out of tune, and the keys creaked when she touched them, and yet Alana couldn't help but fall in love with this antediluvian piano.

Watching her, the beast felt something inside that he hadn't felt in a very long time, but he quickly shook it away. When she found out why there was curse in the first place, she wouldn't even want to look him in the face. And yet, he was running out of time very quickly. December was fast approaching, and then it would either be over or… She ended the song and turned to smile at him. There it was again! That feeling…

The dessert arrived just then, and Alana left the piano and went back to the dining room table. She gasped when she saw what was on her plate.

A slice of chocolate-raspberry cake was adorned by a single white rose. She smiled as she sat down. Picking up the rose, she looked at it for a moment and then placed it in her hair. The beast gave his grunt of a laugh again.

After eating their cake, the sun was long gone and a full moon shone in the sky. Thomas walked Alana back to her room.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked, taking the rose out of her hair.

"Perhaps," he said.

She smiled, and with a mischievous shine in her eyes, she placed the rose in one of the button holes on his cloak. He stared down at it as if he had never seen anything quite like it.

"Good night, Thomas," she said.

"Good night, Alana."


Five hundred years…

The beast sat in his room, turning over and over his dinner with Alana, scouring it for any hint that she may be able to break the curse. He had barely two months left…

"You need to open up to her, sir."

Faith was fluttering throughout the room, dusting.

"She'll respond to that. She needs to get to know you, the real you," she said.

Thomas sighed. He wasn't sure he remembered what the real him was like.

"Sir, may I ask you something?" Faith said, fluttering next to his chair.

He merely glanced up at her.

"Do you think you are in love with her?"

He sighed. He did still have that strange feeling that he'd had from the moment she had walked into the room that night.

"Because you can't force yourself to fall in love with someone, sir."

He sighed again, and said, "Leave me to think about it."

Faith chuckled, but said goodnight and left the room.

If you do not love and are loved in return in five hundred years, you will remain a beast until the end of your days. If you love, but are not loved in return, your heart shall break and you will die a beast.

The words of the curse still rang sharp in his ears. He looked at his beastly reflection in the mirror; he longed to see his real eighteen-year-old reflection again. He could barely remember what he looked like.

And Alana… she was far more beautiful than he had let himself believe the first time they met. He pulled the rose out of his button hole, and laughed silently.

His long life might only last for one more month. It was all up to Alana now…

For he knew now that he had finally fallen in love. It may have taken five hundred years, but Thomas was finally in love.