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While the rest of the world was fighting for control of new lands across the seas, inventing ever more deadly weapons, and generously gifting their own religion to foreign people who didn’t want it, this kingdom just splendidly was.
“Nothing is unnatural about us!” Her words were perfectly formed and accented; it was emotion that caused her to nearly spit. “Anything God makes is natural—by definition. And we, all of us, are the children of God!”
“Wonderful!” Lévi said, his mouth breaking into a big toothy grin. “He’s a man who deserves a prize. Or some recognition of his genius!”
I also have some…rather morbid…treatises for Monsieur D’ Arque to pick up and take back to the, ah, asylum,” he said, mouth pinched in extreme distaste. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you even touch those. He’s very particular.”
bespelled roses
“I’ve seen you around,”
“If I introduced you to my friends, you would spend all your time talking to them and not to me.”
her roses, a delightful garden hidden by magic inside a little park, filled with perfectly healthy, perfectly formed roses in every shade of pink and red, and a few colors Maurice wasn’t sure he had seen before on any flower.
transformation
“You are the best, kindest, bravest, nicest man I have ever met. I want to make sure you can’t ever leave me—by oath.”
“Magic,”
“always comes back on itself.”
None of them thought she was good enough for Gaston,
No one ever asked if he was good enough for her.
Plus he felt he could fix her. Make her normal. His overwhelming masculinity and presence would exorcise her desire to read and think and be alone.
As soon as she opened a book, this little town disappeared into a vast map of countries both real and imagined.
But despite the automatic watering contraption Maurice had built for the garden, the roses that were usually so healthy—blooming even in deepest winter—were beginning to look a little brown and peaked.
Alaric sighed and played with his cup. “Things are growing worse between…regular people—” “Les naturels,” Frédéric interrupted primly—“and les charmantes.”
“Things are not out of control,”
“Anymore. That is precisely the point. Normal people are trying to keep control of things, to keep things safe. And they are not hassling anyone who is innocent.”
“It’s a crime against nature.” “But you yourself are…” “Tainted!” Frédéric hissed.
I am able to practice my skills in surgery at leisure, in cutting out that which is too infected to save. I may even be able to cure…myself, someday.”
she hadn’t brought her cloak and therefore couldn’t clasp it any closer.
Disparate parts of creatures that didn’t belong together were combined in one horrible body: a monstrous clawed foot, bigger than that of a bear’s or a lion’s; a narrow waist; a massive chest. An even more massive neck. Thick, matted brown hair…a cloak. It wore a ragged purple cloak with a gold pin clasped at its neck. Torn blue pants hung in tatters down legs like a giant dog’s. It had a face the size of an oven. A shiny black nose, flaring and wet. Tusks that protruded out of its skull like a mistake. Startlingly blue eyes…with intelligence behind them… Wet, hot breath and slavering tongue.
He pulled out a silver hand mirror, the sort a gentleman might own, with a not-very-ornate handle and simple, bold lines around the reflecting surface.
“I will come bearing some sort of charm or blessing to bestow. Just like we used to, in the old days, when there was newborn royalty.”
This monster was conversing with her almost like a human. A human that could be reasoned with. Hope began to rear its shining head.
“YOU WILL JOIN ME FOR DINNER!”
“This is not a request.”
“That was a very brave thing you did back there,” the teapot said confidentially. “Trading yourself for your father. We all think so.”
Magic, Belle suddenly realized, must have a lot to do with why I’ve never heard of this place. Magic. Magic was real.
“We don’t want to be friends with her anyway,” came the
“We’re just here because Mama and le prêtre said to. For charity.”
“You can’t have adventures without risk. You can’t have great things if you constantly fear loss.
She was finally having her adventure—and it had cost her everything: her father, her home, her books, her life. It was too much.
“There is no such thing as different kinds of people—except for the good ones and the bad ones. And the bad ones do seem to have the upper hand these days.”
All your life you have been waiting for adventure, it said. And now that adventures have found you—you’re just lying around?
The victims of kidnapping often wound up sympathizing with the perpetrator. It was a sickness, a very scientifically predictable one.
“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” she retorted, following the clock out.
“Magic always comes back on itself,” Rosalind whispered. “And also kindness,” Maurice pointed out.
I could…get you a cup of tea? Which you could take. With you. As a…souvenir?”
“I fled this…nightmare of a place and live in a new one now, where no one smears insults on my door and my neighbors don’t just disappear without investigation because of their background.
“Do not try to debate morality with us you base creature.”
Rosalind spun back. “Innocent? MY DAUGHTER was at risk in your kingdom because her mother is one of les charmantes…. And you think your son should be safe because you are a queen?”
“I would make everyone…else…forget,” she said slowly, thinking. “Forget about me and les charmantes. We would become nothing but fairy tales, and hide forever from the eyes of men.”
Finally, she selected a glorious red blossom that surpassed perfection—but was merely average for that household.
“Magic…always comes back on itself,” he reminded her.
As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope—for who could ever learn to love a beast?
“If they do this to a child, what do you think they will do to a beast?”
“Just like that stupid hunter in that village over the river probably wants to put my pelt on his floor like a rug,” he muttered.
