"Good morning, Mistress Belle," Martha said, bringing in breakfast on a tray.

I opened my eyes, but barely. The sun streamed into my room warm and golden and I could hardly welcome the sight after staying awake all night with Adrian, searching his library for the book he told me about. The one that told our story. I was hoping to somehow find a clue on how to defeat the beast, but alas, neither of us could find the book.

"Awaken, awaken, fair maiden, fair maiden," Martha said in a sing-song voice. She playfully grabbed my feet over the covers. I laughed and yawned deeply.

"The master has a gift for you," she said excitedly.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, sitting up in the sunlight streaming onto the bed. I blinked in the haze.

Upon the bed Martha set down a gift box wrapped in light blue paper. I stared at in astonishment. "A gift? But why?"

She beamed.

I reached for the box and slipped away the paper. I gasped at what I found inside.

"My mother's dress!"

What had once been torn, soiled, and ruined was now restored and more beautiful than ever. My mother's dress was resplendent in silver, woven intricately with shimmering gems and delicate silk. I pulled it from the box and gazed at it in awe—it wasn't exactly the same as before, I noticed. There was something new there—

I examined the dress closely, my eyes tracing over the delicate patterns woven into the sleeves. Before there had just been plain fabric, but now faint, silver roses blossomed discreetly throughout the dress. The detail was stunning.

"I don't know what to say," I admitted. "this is so beautiful. This means so much to me…"

Martha appeared elated. "Tonight! Will you wear it tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Tonight we celebrate," she gushed. "Tonight the castle will awaken to meet you. You are the girl who was promised."

What does that mean?

I blushed, and laughed uncertainly. "What is this all about?"

Martha beamed, and plopped down next to me, her eyes alight with excitement. "Oh dear Belle," she said. "Can't you feel what it's all about?"

So that evening I put on the dress, this time not as Mary, but as—

"Belle," I said aloud to myself as I stood in front of the mirror. "Yes," I said gazing at my reflection for a suspended moment. "This will do."

There were butterflies in my stomach and something hanging in the air. I had felt this feeling before, just once, not so long ago. The castle filled with music—not just piano, this time, but what sounded like a band of strings. From my room I heard the faint sound of voices, too. And then Martha appeared, dressed up and resplendent with joy.

"Oh!" She exclaimed when she saw me. "You take my breath away! How gorgeous you are in that dress, like an angel!"

I opened my mouth to say thank you, but my words came out nervous and weak. "I can't believe Adrian is doing all of this for me," I admitted.

"The master awaits you downstairs," she replied, "and there are so many ready to meet you tonight."

My knees were shaky as I walked myself through the halls of Blackhill—once dark and full of shadows, now lit up with candles, torches, and lingering voices. It was like walking into Prince Stefan's castle all over again—but this time was so different, in every way.

I reached the top of the stairs leading down into the main hall and hesitated there.

Down below the room was filled with people. The hall was lit with three gleaming chandeliers; the tall French doors were open to garden hall, where even more people streamed in and out of, lingering, talking, laughing, drinking, dancing. I stared at it all in amazement—where did all of these people even come from? Or had they been here all along?

That's when I noticed Adrian standing at the bottom of the stairs. Our eyes met, and that feeling crashed over me again—the one I had felt before—but this time it was stronger, something I simply would not be able to ignore…

Adrian ascended the steps. He held out his hand to me, his eyes never leaving mine. Without a word I took it.

The crowd parted for us as he led me through the hall. So many faces peered at me with curious eyes, eyes full of wonder or disbelief. I even glimpsed Clarkson and Martha in the crowd watching on in silence.

Adrian turned to face me, his hazel eyes full of a strange intensity. He was dressed in a black leather doublet, his dark hair combed back away from his face. The color had returned to his skin. Tonight I couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

"These are the people of Blackhill," he said. "They're my family, and they've sworn to protect you as I have. We are all… happy that you're here, Belle."

I gazed around at the faces that filled the hall, and the hundreds of eyes peering back at me with curious expressions of wonder. So these are the ghosts, I realized. I never thought I'd see them…

"Where have they been all this time?" I whispered to him.

"Hiding," Adrian replied under his breath. "They can't be seen unless they want to."

Just then, the small band of violinists struck up a lively tune and the castle staff began to pair off, filling the hall with dancing.

Adrian and I exchanged a hesitant glance.

"Adrian… do you think you could ask me to dance?"

He smiled.

Our nervous hands hooked together and I moved in closer to him, placing his hand gently onto the small of my back. Just breathe, I thought. How silly my nervousness made me feel—but never had I been so aware of every part of me before. At the center of the hall we danced, and even though others swayed and waltzed around us, I forgot about them, as if it were all some kind of dream.

Adrian smelled of bergamot, star anise and olive blossoms. His eyes were the color of a jungle at sunset and they lit up profoundly whenever he smiled. And as he smiled, I saw someone else there in his face.

And then it struck me: He looks like Stefan!

"What is it?" he asked, noticing the curiosity in my eyes.

"Nothing," I said. "Say—how about we talk? Do you think we could grab some cups of wine?"

In a few passing moments we stepped out onto the warm garden terrace. I couldn't stop staring at him, and he was beginning to notice. "I'm not going to change into the Beast tonight," he said reassuringly.

"I'm not afraid of the Beast."

"I am," he said.

I was taken aback; it didn't seem like Adrian was afraid of anything.

That's stupid—everyone is afraid of something.

I pondered for a moment before speaking again; Adrian, so full of mysteries, was slowly becoming clearer to me. But there was still so much I did not understand.

"You say the castle staff here is your family," I said slowly. "But where are your parents? Did they leave you alone here?"

There was a flash of sadness in his eyes as he looked away and I immediately wished I hadn't asked him—but yet, I wanted to know. I needed to know.

Adrian took a deep breath. "My mother died ten years ago. She was from a land very different and far from here—a land much older than this, with different laws of man and nature. This castle was her ancestral home. She shared it with her sister, Severa. When my mother died Severa cursed me and bound me here."

"You mean to say- your aunt is the Enchantress?"

He nodded. "Severa and my mother come from a long bloodline of magic. My aunt is the most powerful sorceress I can think of."

"But why would she do this to you?"

"Because she needs me," he said. "Severa has harnessed the magic in my blood, using my curse to keep me under her control. I've done everything I can in my power to keep her out of Blackhill, prolonging whatever plan she has to use me for, but as you can probably tell, the enchantments on this castle have been coming undone. That's why I need your help, Belle. I need to break this curse."

"How can she get away with this?" I asked.

Adrian shrugged. "She is the last member of my family that still lives," he said. "There is no one left to stop her, but me."

My mind was racing. "And your father?"

"I never met him," said Adrian. "And my mother never spoke of him. Not even once."

"I'm sorry," I said.

He smiled weakly. "Don't be. It's hard to miss someone you never knew. My mother, though—well, I at first thought she was sick. It didn't make sense; she was always so strong and willful, smart and filled with life, and then one day something took hold of her and drained her of life. Then she was gone. I was ten years old—just a child—but I didn't believe she had just gotten sick. Not after I found out what had been put her in her tea. Severa—her own sister—had killed her. And then she cursed me."

I impulsively took his hand into my own and held on to it. "Adrian," I said. "We will break your curse. And then we will avenge your mother."

I could see the courage and fear conflicting in his eyes. "She knows about you," he said. "And because the enchantments that were put in place to protect Blackhill are coming undone, it's only a matter of time before she makes her move. She is going to try and separate us; it's easy to do when she can control the Beast."

"What do I do?" I asked.

"It's in that book I was telling you about," he said. "The one where the end is missing. I'm sure Severa destroyed that part."

I thought for a moment, my heart sinking. "But if I don't know how to break your curse, then…"

"Then we'll just have to trust each other," said Adrian.

I glimpsed at him in the silver moonlight. "To trust someone is a great and terrible thing."

He smiled. "Isn't it?"

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat.

Clarkson stood silhouetted against the golden light of the garden hall. Behind him the castle staff continued to dance and mingle in the music.

"Master Adrian, Mistress Belle," he said, "your dinner is served."

The dining hall table was laid with a feast stretching nearly twenty feet. The butterflies in my stomach continued to flutter, though, and I could hardly imagine eating more than a bite of food. I couldn't say why I was feeling so nervous—was it being around so many new people? Was it the tantalizing mixture of fear and courage warring in my heart? Or was it because of the way Adrian looked at me?

I admit, I didn't want him to take his eyes off me.

At dinner I was introduced personally to much of the castle staff—the strange ghosts that had raised Adrian and helped protect him from the Enchantress. There was the jolly cook, Cooky, the seamstress, Ella, the master of arms, Sir Daltos, and countless more. From what I understood, they were bound to Blackhill the same as Adrian, though they were relics of the past—not completely dead, but existing for the purpose of the castle itself. When they looked at me I could see hope in their eyes and I guarded my fear carefully.

After dinner the castle grew quieter and the staff slowly began to vanish back into the shadows. Upon midnight, it was just Adrian and I left sitting at the table.

"Tomorrow I will change into the Beast," Adrian said. "I can't control it all the time yet, so I give myself the chance to run wild and use up as much magic as I can before changing back. Now that the necromancer is gone I can venture outside again."

"I see," I said. "I'd still like to find that book you were talking about. Maybe I'll spend the day searching for it in the library. If the answer to breaking your curse is in a book, then I'm the perfect person to find it."

He smiled. "Belle, you are so much more than that. You can't even imagine."

I was caught off guard by his words. I looked at him in surprise as he finally stood and offered me his hand. We walked to the stairs in the grand hall, the chamber now dim with the dying candlelight.

I looked into his eyes again, wondering what to say but unable to find the words. He seemed to have the same problem. We stood for a silent moment before he cleared his throat.

"Sleep well then, Belle," he said.

There was something between us that was not there before. Upon my worst impulse I would've told him that my heart felt both weak and strong when I looked at him. That the butterflies still hadn't gone away. That I was falling in love.

Instead, I gave him a polite smile and nod. "Good night, Adrian."

And so whatever could have been said at the bottom of the stairs would linger there until the end of time, and I went to sleep and dreamed of the enigmatic boy with hazel eyes. The one named Adrian.

The kingdom was buzzing with rumors: Prince Stefan was wounded by the necromancer, Prince Stefan was attacked by a Beast, Prince Stefan is searching for a mysterious girl….

Prince Stefan is dying.

King Peter was nearly ill with fury—his son, his only son and greatest hope had directly disobeyed him and suffered a terrible price. Every doctor in the kingdom was called upon Stefan's bedside. The arrow had been removed and examined thoroughly, where a substance of mortal peril had so infected the wound. The prince's left shoulder was dressed and redressed with every healing herb that could be summoned in the land, and so often the prince slept through his pain…

But when he was awake, the king was even more afraid.

"I have to find Mary," Stefan insisted through his pain. "There was a beast—a creature unlike any I had ever seen before. It was huge, and resembled not only a lion but also a bear, a bull—you name it, the beast had it. Father, listen to me! It's going to kill her!"

Sweat beaded the prince's forehead, and the color had been drained from his face as he lay tangled in his bed sheets. King Peter gazed down at his son with sorrow. "There's nothing I can do for her," he said.

"Yes there is," Stefan maintained firmly. "Make the call: there must be a hunt for the Beast. We will set a reward for its capture. Every man capable of hunting will be scouring the wild woods by sunset. Please, father, we must do this."

The king was at a loss for words. He stared down upon his son, at the intensity in his eyes, at the pain contorted in his face.

"If I call for a hunt," King Peter said slowly, "will you swear to relax and heal until the doctors find you are recovered?"

"I know, I know; you don't want me going anywhere," Stefan replied bitterly.

The king reached for a chair and pulled it up to his son's bedside. He sat down and leaned forward. "You need to understand," he said softly, "that we live in a dangerous world."

"I'm not nearly as naïve as you want me to be," Stefan said. "I understand what this is all about—what it's always been about. You're leaving. You've been planning it for years. You're going off with that mysterious, priceless map of yours and you'll leave this land behind, putting it in my hands, so you can resume your life of adventure. That's the deal and I'm ruining that for you now."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the king said. "We can discuss all of this nonsense when you're in your right mind again. Until then, take your medicine. All of it. Don't strain yourself. The doctors say they are doing all they can to fight off this infection."

"Make the call," Stefan repeated. "Make it today. I want every hunter in the land searching for the Beast. We will put a large price on its head and for Mary's safe return."

King Peter suppressed a sigh. There was no more he could say to the prince. Through his fever, consciousness, and unconsciousness, the king watched over Stefan with a burgeoning fear so deep he didn't dare say it aloud. But the doctors had said it, though in hushed whispers.

The prince is dying.

The king gazed at Stefan's ghost-like complexion, his eyes glazed over in anguish. "As you wish, my son."