Golden Beauty Part 2

Caerwyn waited for Belle the next day in the garden they had planted together. The roses were blooming with large petals in white, red, orange, and pink. They were his favorite flowers in the garden because despite their loveliness, they could still cut someone who wasn’t careful. It reminded him of Belle, always carrying her weapon at her hip. And of himself, how even when he was as careful as could be with Belle, he was still dangerous.
The day came and went and she never arrived. Caerwyn tried reassuring himself that Belle wasn’t able to come every day. Perhaps word of Prince Maxen’s presence the day before made her father overprotective and she just couldn’t make it. But then another day passed, and then another. The longer he waited, the less vibrant his flowers were in his eyes. The world itself had lost color without Belle.
His father found him sulking in the garden. He laid a hand on his shoulder and joined him on the ground. Caerwyn’s tail wrapped around his waist and he leaned away from his father’s touch.
“One day, Caerwyn, you’ll understand that people like me – people like you – are not meant for this world. As much as everyone wants a wish granted or a spell bought, they fear what we can do so much more. And so, we must choose our battles wisely. It took me decades to obtain my own security in this world. A security I can only give you at a great and terrible price.” He touched a tusk on Caerwyn’s cheek.
Footsteps interrupted Caerwyn’s response and they turned to the visitors. An old man twisted his cap in his hands, his eyes looking between the two of them with a great uncertainty. He had never seen a creature like Caerwyn and between the father and son, he wasn’t sure who to address. And so, with his head lowered, he fell to his knees and pleaded with the both of them.
“Please, I will offer anything if you save my daughter.”
Behind him were his elder daughters, the same despair in their own eyes. None could believe that Belle was gone, stepping in their place without a moment of hesitation. They were supposed to protect her and they had failed.
Caerwyn recognized them from the image the looking glass had shown him of Belle’s garden. He leapt to his feet, startling them.
“What’s happened to Belle?” he asked, his voice cracking.
It took only one look for realization to dawn on them. For the inventor, it was the sharp claws, for the sisters, it was that worry in his blue eyes.
“You’re the man?” the eldest sister breathed. “The one that Belle’s been meeting all this time?”
The enchanter stepped between them, his face set. “I’m sorry, but I cannot help you.”
“Please,” the inventor begged once more.
“Father,” Caerwyn pressed. “Where is Belle?” he asked the sisters.
“Prince Maxen has taken her to be his bride.”
His heart felt as if it had stopped. As if a hand had reached into his chest and grabbed it, squeezing it until it could no longer beat. Belle would be wedded to the prince. Worse, she would fall in love with the prince. With an enchantment that used his own love for her. She would look at Maxen the way he looked at her and it was too much to bear.
He grabbed his father’s arms. “You have to stop him.”
The enchanter knew what all of this meant to Caerwyn. How deeply ironic and deeply tragic it was for him to have given a fragment of his son’s heart to the man going to marry his son’s love. But the terms of the deal were set and Maxen had made his choice and it would assure the safety of countless others.
The enchanter shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, my boy. I cannot save her. The bargain was made.”
“Then make a new bargain! Or break this one,” Caerwyn continued, desperation bleeding through his words.
His father looked wounded by them. For Caerwyn did not know that the enchanter’s greatest fear was that the king and queen would go back on their own bargain and steal back the son he loved so very dearly.
“A deal with an enchanter may not be broken easily. Should either party go back, the consequences are dire,” he explained. “But, a bargain may be altered. Something exchanged for something else. And it’s never an easy thing to give up.”
“I have gold and inventions,” the inventor offered. “My own life.”
“I will broker a new deal with the king and queen, should you answer one question.” His eyes fell on Caerwyn, so many unsaid words in his expression. “Who are Caerwyn’s real mother and father?”
The sisters exchanged frowns and the inventor looked over the beastly man before him. “Is that all we must do?”
The enchanter nodded. “You have three guesses and three days. By the third day, Belle will drink the enchantment and fall irreversibly in love with the prince. Then, no one will ever be able to save her.”
“We don’t have time for games!” Caerwyn shouted.
“Those are my conditions,” his father said firmly and went into the house, slamming the door behind him.
And so, Caerwyn told the clever inventor and his clever daughters everything about himself and how he came to be the enchanter’s adopted son. They went home that night to come up with a guess for the following day.
Caerwyn went to his room, stomping his feet loud on the stairs and kicking the door shut. Each step was heavy as he paced, letting the entire house know just how upset he was. He didn’t speak a word to his enchanted things or eat the dinner brought to him.
Eventually, he curled into bed, holding his looking glass close. “Show me Belle.”

---

Belle was given a lavish room and lavish clothes and lavish jewels. Everything to make her into the princess she would become. She had arrived on horseback, seated in front of Maxen who kept his arms tight around her. When they stepped into the castle, she was shoved into the arms of a chambermaid.
“Scrub the filth from her. She’s been galivanting with something quite foul.” He rubbed his thumb across her lips that he so badly wanted to kiss, but the image of them touching the beast made him sick. “Make sure she’s cleaned thoroughly.”
Her skin was scrubbed raw, her simple gown exchanged for something of unnecessary luxury, and she was brought before the king. He looked over his son’s new bride approvingly, though he had that lecherous look she knew so well from the soldiers roaming the streets. Men were all around her, not even the queen present to meet her son’s betrothed. Never before had she felt so scared and only then did she truly appreciate everything her father had done to protect her, even if it was all now in vain.
Despite the new life that awaited her of luxury, one in which she would never be in want for anything ever again, never fearing she would be dragged from her home by a soldier like her mother was, she found herself crying herself to sleep every night.
This was how Caerwyn looked upon her from the looking glass. Her beautiful golden hair splayed across the fine silk bedding, a lovely nightgown covering her even lovelier body. Her face was buried in her arms as she sobbed where no one could hear her and no one would console her. His heart ached miles away, unable to do a single thing to reassure her that he would come for her. No matter the cost, he would give anything for the new bargain.

---

The inventor returned the following day with his daughters with their first guess. They proposed Caerwyn was born to a woman who was rumored to have made a deal with a devil to save her sick child. Caerwyn had told them how often his father mentioned how small he had been when he brought Caerwyn home with him.
He looked to his father for the answer, wondering if he had indeed been born to the poor woman who had succumbed to heartbreak after losing her child.
The enchanter shook his head. “She is not his mother.”
And so, they went home to come up with another guess. Caerwyn reminded them everything he knew then went to his room and looked upon Belle again.
They repeated this the following day, this time guessing that Caerwyn was born to the man who’s second wife had tried to get his children lost in the forest to be eaten by animals. Caerwyn recoiled at the thought that such horrid people could’ve conceived him.
Once again, the enchanter shook his head and said, “He is not Caerwyn’s father.”
And once again, the inventor and his daughters returned home after hearing a third time all that Caerwyn knew about himself. They had a final guess and a final chance to save Belle.
Caerwyn held the looking glass tight in his hands, his tears falling on the image of Belle, still trapped in the castle, a day away from drinking an enchantment that would make her forget her love for Caerwyn.
He cursed himself for never trying to find his parents before this moment. If he had been searching the previous years of his life, he would surely be closer to the answer than he was now. But then, an idea came into his head, but he needed a clever inventor with clever daughters to help him.

---

Caerwyn stood farther away from his home than he ever had before. The looking glass was heavy in his satchel but his heart felt even heavier. For fear of the unknown had kept him always near his home. Fear of a cruel king and queen that his father always warned him about, always afraid they would steal him away. But then something else swelled in his heart, lifting the burden of fear just enough that he was able to take one step after the other and search for the inventor’s home.
It wasn’t too difficult, not with Belle’s map that she had left behind one day and the enchanted mirror to guide his way. Soon enough, he found himself at the gate of Belle’s beautiful garden, and he knocked his beastly knuckles against the wood.
The eldest daughter recoiled at the sight of him for only but a brief moment, then her eyes softened. It wasn’t herself to blame, for Caerwyn was something to recoil from. But Belle’s sister saw the love in his eyes for Belle and did not fear him. She let him into their garden where Belle’s family searched through every story and every bit of knowledge they had in pursuit of the man and woman who had traded Caerwyn for a wish. They had an array of resources, from books to rumors to neighbors but Caerwyn had something far better.
He offered them the looking glass but with the solemn explanation that when he tried to search for his mother and father, the glass had only shown him the enchanter. The inventor took the mirror first.
“Show me Caerwyn’s mother,” he asked.
The mirror’s image turned cloudy then returned to reflect the inventor. Caerwyn chewed his lip, wondering if this meant his mother was no longer alive.
The youngest of the remaining sisters took it next. “Show me who gave Caerwyn to the enchanter.”
Once more, the image did not show them anything.
The next youngest took the looking glass. “Show me the man and woman who traded their son for a wish.”
The glass went cloudy then showed a string of images. Many faces were strangers but a few were recognizable. But they only had one guess left and there were several people shown to them.
The eldest daughter held the looking glass, thinking long over her request.
“A bargain changed for something else,” she muttered. Then, she lifted the glass and asked, “Show me the king and queen.”
The image first showed the king, a man known for his overabundance in lavish things. He enjoyed a banquet before him, cheerfully engaging with those around him. Caerwyn peered at the image, catching a glimpse of Belle at the end of the table, seated next to Maxen. But then the image quickly shifted to the queen.
She sat alone at her spinning wheel. Dark circles hung under her eyes that were glassy and unseeing. For the enchanter had not warned her the greater price for magic. Anyone could learn to spin gold from straw, but only those who were like the enchanter, born with magic in themselves, would never lose themselves to the toll that enchantments bore on a person.
The enchanter said that spinning helped to calm his mind, but it had long ago ensnared the queen’s mind. Her bargain had taken its toll but a new one could be made for the return of Belle.
The inventor and his daughters looked to Caerwyn, for they were clever and had found the answer to the enchanter’s question. But now Caerwyn had a new choice to make. The only bargain that would save Belle would deliver him to the very place his father had always feared him to be. For surely they would demand the return of their firstborn, the child to take the place of his mother who had traded him for a wish. A mother who had never thought to love him.
The inventor let Caerwyn stay with them that night and the sisters gave him Belle’s empty room. Every corner smelled like her and everything in the room was everything he expected to be there. Books were scattered, some left open as she moved on from one story to another, maps tacked onto her walls with arrows pointing to the places she would someday see for herself, inventions taken apart with each piece meticulously labelled. At her bedside, a rose withered in its vase, petals piling atop the book Caerwyn had given her. She had laid in this very bed, reading the stories he treasured. The stories that had saved a woman’s life.

---

In the morning, Caerwyn returned to his home with the inventor and his daughters. The enchanter waited in the doorway, his eyes saddened with the knowledge that they had figured out the answer.
The eldest of the daughters stepped forward to answer for them, since it was she who had deduced it. “Caerwyn is the firstborn son of the king and queen and true heir to the kingdom.”
The enchanter dipped his head. “You’ve answered my question. Now you know the bargain that can be altered. A son,” he gestured to Caerwyn, “For a daughter,” he raised his other hand to the inventor.
The decision weighed heavy on Caerwyn, for he would be sacrificing everything to bring Belle home. He would lose her and his father, and become the beast chained to the spinning wheel, continuously bringing wealth to the kingdom he would never inherit. He thought of Belle’s unspoken wish, the one he believed would be used to lift his curse. Perhaps if he was traded not as a beast, but as a man, he would have a chance at living as a prince. But no. He had learned his father’s enchantments and the kingdom needed gold to more than it needed another prince.
Caerwyn turned to the inventor, towering over him. Even when he didn’t mean to be, he was intimidating and beastly. But his eyes were soft and so very sad. “I only ask one thing for returning Belle,” he said gently. “That she be allowed to see the world.”
The inventor was brought to tears, realizing he would get his daughter back. She had given herself up in her sisters’ place but Caerwyn would now take hers. He nodded fervently.
The enchanter looked upon his son, whom he had long ago promised to do anything for. And his son wanted nothing more than to save the woman he loved from an accursed life married to a man she did not love. And so, he would have to lose the son he had longed for his entire life.

---

An audience with the king was something the enchanter never expected to demand, but it was easily given. For the enchanter had already graced the king with more gold than he could ever spend, try as he might, and he was eager for another exchange.
The inventor brought only his eldest daughter for the exchange and it was only by her insistence that he brought her along.
They, along with Caerwyn, looked in awe at the magnificence of the castle. Gold plated every column, dazzled from every chandelier, and adorned every coat. Once more, the queen was absent from meeting with the audience for she hadn’t left the spinning wheel in over a decade.
Maxen looked upon the inventor whose daughter he had stolen away and his arm tightened its hold on his soon to be bride. In hours, she was to drink the enchantment and they would be wedded in the morning. He was growing very impatient.
Belle looked upon her father first, relief swelling in her heart at the sight of him and her sister. Then her eyes fell on Caerwyn and she longed to run to him. For him to lift her into his strong arms and take her away from this place.
“The devil returns,” the king greeted from his throne.
The enchanter only nodded, for he did not bow to any king as he was not bound to any man of this world. “I have made many deals for you and Prince Maxen. My services have brought wealth to your once dying kingdom. And I have given your son an enchantment to finally have his bride.”
“All given to us by a fair deal,” the king asserted, growing suspicious. “Do you bring this beast as a pet now?”
“I come to amend a deal we made many years ago.” He beckoned Caerwyn forward. “A son for a spinning wheel that makes gold from hay.”
The king sneered at the sight of the monster before him. “That is no son of mine.”
“Do not be fooled by the simple enchantment, for this is surely the very child I was given.” With a tap to Caerwyn’s forehead, the enchantment fell away, revealing the young man Caerwyn truly was.
Hair vanished, revealing a strong jaw. Hands replaced large paws. Only his brilliant blue eyes were unchanged. Though the transformation was but brief, everyone who looked upon Caerwyn saw Maxen’s double. Brothers who had never known one another yet who shared a face beneath the enchanter’s spell.
Maxen’s own blue eyes, which lacked the kindness of Caerwyn’s, burned with anger at the beast. His fingers dug into Belle’s arm, remembering how she had kissed him. Maxen always prided himself to be the most handsome in the land and then he saw Caerwyn’s true face. It was not right.
The king, though, was quite amused. He clapped his hands at the show. “Clever devil, you are! Disguising my son with such a hideous enchantment. But as you see, I have a proper son, I’ve no need for him. I’d rather keep the spinning wheel.”
“That is not my bargain,” the enchanter said. “I’ve come to propose an alteration to our deal. Caerwyn for Belle.”
The room went silent. All that was heard was the gasp that came from Belle. Caerwyn tried to reassure her with a smile but Maxen just held her tighter.
“Caerwyn has learned many things from me, least of all how to spin gold from hay. The queen has been driven mad from the spinning wheel in the tower. She will not last much longer. But Caerwyn can take her place, producing more gold in a month that she would in the short time she has left. In exchange, Belle is released back to her family and Maxen must find a new bride.”
“Absolutely not!” Maxen screamed, jumping to his feet. “Belle is to be my bride and I will make no such deal.”
The enchanter ignored him, staring at the king. “The man whose deal I’ve come to alter must decide.”
The king was already grinning. All it took was the promise of even more gold for him to agree without consulting his son on the matter. With all the gold they were going to have, Maxen could buy as many brides as he wanted.
And so, Caerwyn took the place of Belle as prisoner of the castle. Maxen was enraged by the exchange though his shouts were unheeded by the king. Belle returned to her father and her sister. The clever eldest daughter of the inventor hugged Belle close and whispered in her ear the warnings of the enchanter.
“Whoever goes back on a deal with an enchanter shall suffer dire consequences.”
Belle was as clever as her sister and so she began to scheme. She asked for a final goodbye to Caerwyn. Her arms wrapped around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, letting her tears fall.
“Do you have your mirror?” she whispered and he nodded. He slipped it to her arms and she held it out for everyone to see, particularly Maxen. “Keep this close to you,” she said for all to hear. “So that you may see me anytime you wish.”
She lifted herself onto her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
Caerwyn shared an even briefer goodbye with his father before he was dragged away to his new home where he would spin gold for the rest of his life. The son he had longed for all his life was gone and he was once more alone. He turned away from the inventor, his many thanks falling on deaf ears. A daughter for a son and he was left empty.

---

Caerwyn looked at his mother for the first time. The haggard woman had aged far beyond her years and her blind eyes could not look upon the son she had traded for a wish, subsequently handing her life over to the accursed spinning wheel. The enchanter’s words rang true for she perished that night when she was pulled away from the wheel.
Caerwyn was chained to the room with a metal band on his ankle. He sat upon the stool his mother had spent the last of her life at. The wheel was no different from the one he had at home. Straw littered the floor, nearly knee deep, and he begun to spin. He found the perfect spot to prop his enchanted mirror so that as he spun, he could look upon Belle.
She returned home with her father and sister, crying for her love that she had to leave behind. In all this, he still hadn’t stopped her tears, but at least she could live her life and not lose her heart to the cruel prince.
When evening came, Caerwyn made a bed in the straw and held the mirror close. All was dark but the image of her until the door opened, spilling in a stream of light. Caerwyn looked up to see the prince standing over him. He looked down at the beast with disgust and rage in his eyes, for he had lost his bride. No amount of gold would purchase him a wife as beautiful as Belle. He snatched the mirror from Caerwyn’s hand and locked him in the tower.
Belle, clever as she was, expected it not to take long for that very thing to happen. For her tears were not for Caerwyn to see but for Maxen. The prince would look at his lost bride sobbing over the beast, a man who looked exactly like Maxen beneath the spell, and the man who was firstborn to the king and queen.
Maxen was a jealous thing, above all else. It was why he disposed of women so easily when they did not return his affection. It was why he always sought to keep those around him beneath him. Why his only friend was still nothing more than a peasant in his eyes. Caerwyn had warned that the enchanted mirror could lead a person into madness and it was only a matter of days before it ensnared Maxen’s mind.
Clinging the love enchantment close to his heart, he raced back to Belle’s village to retrieve what was his. When the doors to her home were flung open and soldiers stormed in, destroying anything in their path, the inventor and his daughters could do nothing to stop him from grabbing Belle and returning to the castle with her.
His father, so wrapped in merriment that was supposed to be from Maxen’s wedding, did not see the prince carrying Belle into the castle and up to the tower where Caerwyn was made prisoner. Belle remained as calm as she could manage, hoping that the deal would be broken soon and Caerwyn and she would be free.
Caerwyn was startled from his seat when the prince stormed into the room, dragging Belle behind him. Wild fury raged in his eyes, his hair disheveled and sweat coating his brow.
“You think you can steal what’s mine?” he spat. “A beast as hideous as you will never be a prince. You will never be worthy of her love.”
He pulled the bottle from his coat and bit the cork off. Caerwyn lunged to stop him by the chain caught and he was just out of reach. Maxen grabbed Belle by the hair and forced the liquid into her mouth. She coughed as much as she could, but some escaped down her throat.
Maxen let out a slow laugh, turning to the beast who struggled and snarled at him, fighting for his beloved. “You’ll watch as she falls in love with me.” He retrieved the second vial but as he looked at his hand, his eyes widened.
Hair began to grow in thick patches, his nails turning to claws. He released Belle and tried to pull the hair from him but he yelped in pain. Slowly, more patches erupted along his arms, over his chest, down his legs. He cried out as his legs shifted and shaped into that of a wolf’s. A tail ripped from his back, tusks jutted from his cheeks, his nose elongated.
As Maxen transformed, so did Caerwyn. Just as the prince shifted into beast, the beast shifted into man.
Maxen looked at himself in the enchanted mirror, seeing his horrible face that finally matched those horrible eyes of his. Caerwyn never truly looked a beast but Maxen was nothing less than one. He screamed and wailed at his accursed self, ramming his body into the magic spinning wheel. With his beastly arms, he threw it against the wall, shattering it into splinters.
“What have you done!” he screamed at Caerwyn. “What have you made me?”
“You broke the deal,” Belle answered. “One must never go back on a deal with an enchanter.”
Maxen let out a horrible cry, something that was truly monstrous. He lunged at Caerwyn with a splintered piece of the wheel.
Caerwyn was not a fighter but he was an enchanter. Maxen was thrown against a window that shattered. His body nearly toppled over and Caerwyn reached out to grab him. Maxen looked down at the sharp rocks far below him then at his horrible new hands. With a kick to Caerwyn’s chest, he let himself fall, for if he could not be the most handsome in the land, he could not be.
Belle ran to Caerwyn and he enveloped her in his human arms. Fur did not scratch her and a tail did not brush against her. Fingers slipped though her hair without fear of harming her and cheeks turned scarlet for the first time.
Belle looked up at his familiar yet new face. His blue eyes suited him and a single dimple dotted his left cheek. She touched it, remembering a tusk was once there.
“Caerwyn…you’re the true heir to this kingdom,” she whispered.
Indeed it was so. Caerwyn hadn’t given that a single thought, never thinking that he would inherit this land. Maxen was the rightful prince, not he.
He shook his head. “I don’t want this. I want to see the world with you.”
And so they fled back to the enchanter’s home. When Maxen was found, all thought him to be the beast Caerwyn who flung himself from the tower in madness. The prince was never to be found and with his spinning wheel destroyed, the king could not make any more gold. News of this spread far and wide in no time and allies turned to enemies, for a friendship bought in riches was lost as quickly as it was gained.
The king, who had adorned himself in the most lavish of things, lost his head when he had no more money to pay for his protection. Cruel soldiers became crueler as they sought out gold to compensate for their losses, but a helpful band of merry men had recently ventured into the kingdom and defended the defenseless.
Caerwyn returned to his father. The enchanter embraced his dear son and the enchanted things welcomed him home with Belle. But Caerwyn did not remain long, for he told his father that he and Belle wanted to travel the world and see the beautiful places in the stories they read.
Though it brought great sadness to him, the enchanter agreed. “I have a friend who can bring you along. It’s a dangerous world out there, my son.”
Caerwyn looked at Belle. “Which is why we must be brave.”
“I have a wish,” Belle said. Caerwyn was taken aback, for she had promised to never ask a wish from his father. “If you are to turn Caerwyn back into a beast, then make me one as well.”
The enchanter smiled. “Caerwyn has lived long enough as a beast. I’ve done all I can to protect him but now the time as come that he must be on his own.”
And so, with sad goodbyes but promises to return, Caerwyn and Belle prepared to finally see the world. Caerwyn left his enchanted mirror with his father so that he may see them again. The inventor gave Belle a music box with dancing figurines of him and his daughters so that she may remember them always.
On the morning they were to leave, a thief named Robin and an enchantress named Ciana came to guide them through the land. Ciana thanked the enchanter for his powerful sleeping enchantment that had put the terrible monster to sleep but there were still many evils in the world.
The enchanter gave his son a final embrace. “Should you ever find yourself in trouble, call my name and I will be there for you.”
“You’ve never told me your name.”
He smiled. He was not an imp or a trickster or a devil. He was simply Rumpelstiltskin.

Golden Beauty Part 1

The firstborn son of the king and queen was never meant to inherit their large and newly prosperous kingdom. Long before his birth, he was promised to another, a deal that gave the queen the power to spin gold from straw, bringing more wealth than the kingdom had ever seen before. A firstborn was a small price to pay for endless gold and soon enough, a real heir was born to the king and queen.
He was born into this world too early, a small and fragile thing, as if he knew that he was given parents who did not love him. Nameless, he was given to the enchanter, completing their terms of agreement. The magical spinning wheel was theirs to keep for all time and the enchanter finally had the son he’d always wanted. Some would call him cruel for demanding a baby for a form of payment but the enchanter saw it as a mercy. For whomever would take the bargain surely would never love the child as the child deserved to be loved. He had proposed the exchange many, many times, but the queen had been the first to accept.
None knew the true name of this enchanter and so he was given many names: imp, trickster, devil. But to the young boy, he was simply known as ‘father.’
The enchanter placed a curse on the child, giving him the hideous form of a beast. Horrible fangs grew from his teeth, the snout of a warthog was his nose, with two little tusks jutting out. His hands were as hairy as the rest of his body, with sharp claws in place of nails. His legs were the haunches of a wolf and the tail of a fox would wiggle indignantly anytime the boy was annoyed or curl up when he was embarrassed and wrap around him when he was afraid. But beneath the fur and the fangs and the claws, he kept his blue human eyes. If anyone took a moment to look at him, to really look at him, they would see the eyes of a boy who wanted a friend more than anything in the world.
The enchanter named him Caerwyn. He raised him with all the love he had for the boy, a child he’d been waiting for his whole life. Even the curse upon the boy was out of love, for he knew that should the king and queen ever discover that their unwanted son learned the enchantments and skills of his adoptive father, they would surely find a way to go back on their deal. But who could ever learn to love a beast, besides the man who made him into one?
Caerwyn lived a simple life in a simple manor of enchantments. His candelabra would light the room as he entered. His clock would tell him the time with its grandfatherly voice. His teacup would giggle when his hairy lips brushed over the rim. Everything in the home was alive and they loved Caerwyn nearly as much his father did. This was his only company in the world.
Beyond the little haven the enchanter made for him and his son was the domain of the king and queen, a dangerous place even for one who was not the rightful heir to the throne. The new wealth brought by the spinning wheel had saved the kingdom from certain destruction by their neighboring kingdoms. They had run out of gold to pay their soldiers and create their weapons but now they had an overabundance, and every young man in the kingdom lined up to become a soldier. This meant that even the cruelest and greediest were given a power they were never meant to have and the ordinary folk of the kingdom had a new foe to fear.
The young women of the kingdom were always in danger. When a soldier came by on the street, she would duck her head to avoid catching his lusty gaze, hoping that she wouldn’t have to spend that evening with straw stabbing into her back or a sweaty hand pressed over her mouth with her body against the walls of a barrack. But the soldiers carried horrible weapons that made resistance a deadly thing.
Even a clever inventor who lived in wealth of both gold and family was not spared by the cruelties of the soldiers. When his youngest was but a mere child, his beloved wife was stolen from him and never returned. He did not know if she was still alive, somewhere in the kingdom, and wedded to another, or if she had fought back and was killed the same night she was taken. Deep down in his heart, he knew that she had struggled.
The inventor had four beautiful daughters, but his youngest was the most beautiful of them all. His beloved wife had called her Belle from the moment she laid eyes on her daughter. After his wife was taken, the inventor sheltered his precious daughters, doing everything he could to keep them out of the soldier’s paths. He built a garden for them to enjoy the sun, he brought them books so they could explore new worlds, and he created beautiful things for them so as to not feel so lonely. He invented a box with a dancing ballerina, a puppet who could sing for them, and a little toy soldier that protected the ballerina rather than harmed her.
The sisters were fiercely protective of the youngest daughter, for she truly was the most beautiful of them all and rumors of beauty were just as dangerous as strutting one’s self before a line of lecherous soldiers. For there were things in this world far worse than them. There were tales of a creature roaming the lands, preying on the young and beautiful maidens and stealing their lives for itself. But much nearer and much more threatening was the young prince of the king and queen.
Word had spread that Prince Maxen was in want of a wife but the young women knew the stories of the prince. How he was even crueler than Prince Aven who had thrown his fiancée to the streets mere days before they were to wed and stripped her of everything she had. Prince Maxen not as merciful, disposing of a young woman in more permanent ways.
The sisters knew it was only a matter of time before the prince heard about Belle and they did everything they could to delay it. If a man ever stumbled into their garden, they would drive him out with the weapons their father made for them. They would make Belle keep a hood over her head of fair hair, keeping her lovely face in the shadows. They would even use their makeup to make Belle look less pretty.
But it all was done in vain, for Belle could never be content trapped within their small garden. She wanted nothing more than to venture out into the great wide world. The books were no longer enough and she wanted to see and feel and touch the world for herself.
And so, Belle would slip away from her father and sisters any chance she could and wander out into the forest. She knew the dangers of the town, as well as the forest, and always carried a weapon on her during her ventures.
Belle never imagined she would meet someone and Caerwyn never thought that someone other than his father would ever look upon him without fear.
But that was just what happened one early afternoon when Belle had sneaked away while her sisters were preparing a pot of tea and sandwiches to enjoy the cool spring day. She had explored every bit of the forest to the right of her home, all the way to the main road which she never dared to cross.
So today, she went left. Just as rumors about her and her sisters eked from their garden, so did rumors make their way in, slipping through slats in the wood and skimming through the trees. One such rumor that intrigued her was that of the manor set against the sloping mountainside, tucked just beyond the reaches of the king and queen’s domain. This was said to be the home of the famous enchanter whom none dared to cross. His reputation was the only reason the land wasn’t part of the sprawling kingdom that dragged its claws further and further, bloating itself.
Belle didn’t plan to cross into the enchanter’s territory, she only wanted to see. Of course she would like to knock on his door and ask for a wish but she was much too clever for such a foolish thing. For a wish was never free and would cost her far too much, even if that wish was to bring her mother home.
No, she would simply look then walk away.

---

Caerwyn was used to trespassers. They came almost every day and they always recoiled at the sight of him. Those that had simply gotten lost and didn’t mean to find the manor promptly fled but those who had sought out Caerwyn’s father managed to keep their fear in check and ask the beastly young man where they could find the enchanter. It was always the same. None ever came to see him and every one of them was eager to leave his presence. Even if they knew that he could give them the enchantments they sought out, they would rather see the imp or the trickster or the devil. At least the enchanter had a human face, even if it had an unsettling look to it.
When Caerwyn heard the familiar clopping of hooves, he tucked his looking glass away. After one of his enchanted toys was stolen by a visitor when he was a child, he no longer trusted them to see the amazing things his simple belongings could perform.
Baethan, one of the palace guards who frequented the manor, sneered down at him. Caerwyn hated him for the simple fact that he was Prince Maxen’s best friend and therefore thought himself superior to everyone around him. But being the prince’s closest confidant left him with the task of errands such as pestering the enchanter for potions and enchantments. Caerwyn’s father seldom agreed to the requests and his fees were always exorbitant. But these were small prices to pay for a prince of a king and queen who could spin gold from hay.
Caerwyn sneered in return, but only when Baethan’s back was turned. Somewhere beneath all his fur was a scar from when Baethan caught him rolling his eyes. Sometimes, it still itched.
Not in the mood to listen to Baethan’s pathetic negotiations for yet another enchantment the prince fancied at the moment, Caerwyn jumped over the stone wall separating their land from the kingdom and wandered into the thick forest. His father always warned him to be careful, for the king and queen hated trespassers on their land just as much as the enchanter hated trespassers on his own. But the only people who ever ventured here were either intent on seeing the enchanter or merely lost.
Never had someone come to simply look at the manor without want for something else. And so, when Caerwyn saw the beautiful young woman staring at him, he thought her to be a lost traveler. Usually, he couldn’t care less for them, but she was a young woman, alone in a dangerous land.
She took a step back, snapping a twig beneath her foot. Caerwyn’s chest swelled, waiting for the fear in her eyes as she fled from him, screaming about a monster in the forest. But no, she lifted the skirt of her dress and bowed to him. She bowed to him, the beastly creature that everyone else detested.
“Forgive me…Lord,” she tested, “If I have trespassed on your land. I did not mean to do so.”
Caerwyn felt as if his heart were beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings. Other than the brief demands to see his father, no one spoke to him. And he only ever held conversations with his father and his furniture. If his cheeks were smooth, they would surely be red as apples as he thought about how ridiculous it sounded that he spoke with his furniture.
“Actually, my land starts on the other side of that wall,” Caerwyn said, pointing over his shoulder. “And I’m not a Lord. At least, I don’t think so, since we’re not really part of the kingdom.”
“Enchanter, then?” she asked.
Ah, so she thought he was his father. Of course, she came to see him. Caerwyn lowered his eyes. “The enchanter is with another client at the moment, but I can take you to him as soon as he’s free.”
She shook her head fervently. “No, that’s not necessary. I…I don’t have anything to trade for a wish. I only came to see if it was true that he lived here.”
Caerwyn frowned, an expression that made his beastly face more animalistic, even if he tried not to let it. But his snout would turn up, showing off his fangs. “Why see if he’s here if you’re not going to ask for a wish?”
Her cheeks turned rosy. Everything about her was delicate and human. Everything he wasn’t. Her blonde hair was pleated over her shoulder, her hazel eyes bright as a citrine jewel. She had a small nose, curved red lips, and a smooth jaw. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
She reached into her satchel at her side and unfolded a map. She turned it to him, showing the nearby town which he’d never seen for himself. Colorings and markings were made all over the map, including a large black X just outside the town. The mountainside where Caerwyn lived was unmarked. Her finger tapped that barren place.
“I haven’t explored this area yet,” she explained. “I wanted to see it for myself.”
He stepped closer without thinking and paused, afraid he’d scare her away. But she didn’t back away from him. For the first time, someone who wasn’t his father didn’t recoil from him, so he continued getting closer. He did notice the weapon strapped to her hip so he made sure to keep his movements slow and gentle. His claw scratched against the unmarked area on the opposite side, just beyond where her markings were abruptly cut short.
“What about here?” he asked.
Her body tensed and she quickly folded the map. “I can’t go beyond the road,” she muttered.
He cocked his head. He wasn’t allowed to go places, but why should she not? No one would see her and think ‘monster.’
Without the map between them, he realized just how close he’d gotten to her. His snout twitched at the smell of her. It was like she was made of flowers but there was also the scent of grease and metal and smoke.
“Is the enchanter like you?” she asked, peering around him to look upon the manor.
Caerwyn swallowed. It always came back to his father. “No, he looks nothing like me.”
She returned her gaze to him, her bright eyes travelling across his face. He felt ashamed of his snout and the tusks jutting out in a lopsided way. He’d noticed it one day when staring at his own face and his looking glass tried to console him, saying that many people had lopsided ears or only had a dimple on one cheek and not the other. He’d scoffed, wishing he had one dimple. At least he took care to keep his fangs cleaned every day and always scraped the dirt from his claws every night. If he wasn’t going to look human, he was certainly going to act like one. A clean one at that. His tail wrapped around his waist as she scrutinized him.
“If the enchanter doesn’t look like you, is this a curse?”
He scratched at the raised scar on his arm, the end of his tail flicking apprehensively. “My father did it so that the king and queen would never steal me away.”
Her eyes went wide for a second. “Why would they steal you away?”
He motioned her to follow him. He climbed over the wall with ease then turned to help her. His pulse quickened when her small hand touched his and he kept his grip gentle, afraid of hurting her.
“Are you sure the enchanter won’t be angry?” she whispered as she brought one leg over, then the other. She had a dark green cloak over her blue dress, the skirt of which she had to lift to her knees to make the climb.
Caerwyn averted his eyes, not sure why just looking at her legs sent a trill through him. “We get visitors all the time. The rumors about him being a devil are just to weed them out. Imagine if he was known as a kind enchanter?” he chuckled to himself at the thought of the entire kingdom lining at his doorstep. They would never get a moment of peace.
She didn’t draw her hand from his and he led her to the back of the manor. Though it was true there were a lot of visitors, he never actually got any. He wasn’t sure what his father would do or say about him bringing a young woman into the manor for anything other than a service.
Best to air on the side of caution, he concluded, and brought her in through the kitchen. He completely forgot that practically everything was alive and his teacup bounced when he walked in.
“Who’s that?” it asked in its small voice.
Caerwyn scooped the cup and held it to his chest, muffling its voice. But she peered around him.
“Did that cup just speak?”
As Caerwyn flustered with an answer, the cup squirmed until it could manage an, “I sure did!”
Her brows raised, her eyes alight in wonder. She offered her hands and Caerwyn set the cup in them. She brought it so close that its handle nearly touched her nose.
“Brilliant!” she said in a whisper. “My father could never do something like this.”
The cup wriggled in her hand. “Is your father an enchanter too?”
She shook her head, touching her finger to the chip on its rim. “He’s an inventor. He makes incredible things but nothing quite like you.”
The cup spun around to Caerwyn. “I like her.”
Once again, Caerwyn blushed beneath his fur. He moved the cup back onto the counter. “I’m going to show her the spinning wheel. But if my father comes.” He pressed his finger to his lips. The cup bounced in response and he led her further into the home, taking her upstairs.
Everything wanted to stop and talk with her, excited to see the visitor. He had to constantly shush them until they reached the attic at the very top.
Straw covered the floor in heaps, a spinning wheel set next to the single window. A golden thread glinted in the sunlight, coiling into a basket. Though they were never wanting for money, his father often came to spin. He said it helped clear his mind. He also taught the magic to Caerwyn, saying that it was a simple form of magic and the more he practiced, the more enchantments he would learn.
Caerwyn sat at the seat and continued the unfinished thread. As straw was spun in, gold emerged. Belle knelt and lifted a twine of it, feeling it between her fingers.
“My father fears that the king and queen would steal me away for my enchantments. I’m not nearly as good as he is, but I’m also not as scary as he is. At least, not on the inside.” He gestured at himself. “Outside, I’m hideous enough to scare them away.”
He averted his eyes from her as he spoke. He had come to accept that he must look this way for his own good. It didn’t make it any easier to say out loud. Especially to the first person to ever let him hold her hand.
“I don’t think you’re hideous,” she said gently.
His tail flicked, heart racing. But it had to be a joke. A cruel, cruel joke.
“What’s your name?” she asked, still kneeling on the other side of the wheel. He glanced over, his toes curling in his shoes.
“Caerwyn,” he answered.
She smiled, letting the name sink in. “I think that name is perfect for you.”
“And yours?”
“Belle.”
Belle. It suited her far better than his own name suited him. His father and the furnishings were the only ones who ever used it. Everyone else just muttered things like animal, monster. Beast. Caerwyn was a name meant for a person, not the accursed thing he was.
Belle glanced out the window and leapt to her feet. The sun had sunk low, the day growing very late before she’d even realized.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
Caerwyn’s heart sank. He foolishly wished she could stay forever but of course she would have to leave. She had found the enchanter’s home and there were many more places to explore.
He guided her back down the stairs, everything calling to her once more. She seemed sorry to have to go and not speak to them. When they reached the wall, he stepped over first and helped her once again. He swallowed, wondering if this would be the last time he would ever hold her hand.
He walked as far as he dared but hesitated to leave her alone. As if reading his mind, she tapped the weapon at her hip and winked.
“I’ll be fine.” She turned, then paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Would it be possible to come back? To see you again?”
Caerwyn’s snout flared, his eyes wide. He couldn’t speak so he just nodded.
She returned a smile. “I don’t know exactly when, but I will as soon as I can.”
He waved as he watched her go, staying until she vanished in the forest. When she was out of sight and – hopefully – out of earshot, he threw a fist in the air, leaping as high as he could with a shout.
This gesture made the palace guard watching from the distance sneer and he raced back to the palace to tell the prince at least one bit of good news.

---

Belle’s sisters were upset – as they always were – when she returned. They promised to keep a closer eye on her next time but she knew she would find a way to sneak away once more. Only the next time, she would try even harder to slip away and see Caerwyn again. She wanted so much to meet all the things in his home and to spend a day just talking with him.
Other than his eyes, his voice was the most human thing about him. When she first saw him, she thought it would be guttural and rough, but it was gentle and soft, with a few hiccups as he was coming into manhood, but it was pleasant nonetheless.
Her sisters watched her humming to herself as she readied for bed that evening and they were quick to figure out her secret.
The eldest stood before her, arms crossed, while her other two sisters sat at either side of her. “You’ve met a man, haven’t you?” she asked.
Belle flushed, giving herself away in an instant.
“She has!” the second eldest exclaimed.
“He’s not a soldier, is he?” the third whispered.
“Of course not,” Belle replied.
“But a man likes to gloat to other men,” the eldest said seriously.
“He’s not like that.”
“How long have you known him?” her sister asked, grabbing her arm.
“You haven’t told him where you live, have you?” the other asked, grabbing her other arm.
Belle felt as if she would be torn between the two of them. Her oldest sister knelt, cupping Belle’s cheeks in her hands. “Belle, we’re only trying to protect you. So that what happened to mother won’t happen to you.”
She pulled her arms free and pushed her sister back. “So what, I become an old maid wandering the garden until I wither and die?”
Her sisters all sighed. The eldest took Belle’s hands. “Maybe if you brought him to meet father?”
Belle lowered her eyes. She hadn’t been frightened by Caerwyn because she expected something magical like him. And when she learned he wasn’t the enchanter, she wasn’t frightened because he had those lovely blue eyes that saw the world with a veil of sadness over them.
But her father and sisters would surely be frightened by him. Even if his form would scare off soldiers and his enchantments could keep her safe, would they ever see beyond the beast?
Her sisters relented, thinking they had talked reason into her when they’d simply given her more reason to keep Caerwyn a secret. Maybe there was one wish she could ask the enchanter. It could even be worth whatever the cost. There were things she could offer, should she ever build up the courage.

---

Caerwyn had expected to wait weeks, even months, to see Belle again, but she returned two days later. His teacup would be quite excited, as it had asked him nearly every second of the day when Belle would return, almost revealing his secret to his father. He had to wriggle his hairy lip against the cup to keep it quiet.
Her satchel bounced heavily at her hip and she paused at the wall. He sprinted over and helped her up. He thought it was out of politeness, waiting to be invited into their land, but he liked to imagine she wanted to touch him as much as he wanted to touch her. Of course, he was only imagining that.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” he admitted, leading her to the kitchen.
“Well, when I see an opportunity,” she explained.
The cup bounced with joy when it saw her. “You’re back, you’re back!”
She laughed and scooped it up. “I couldn’t stay away.”
“Would you care for tea?” Caerwyn offered. The cup gasped excitedly, hoping she’d say yes, then nearly leaping from her hand when she did. Caerwyn took it from her before it fell. “I’m sorry, everything around here has only had me and my father to talk to.”
He set the tea kettle over a flame that sparked from his fingertips. It giggled as the water boiled within it.
“It’s been ages since a lovely young lady such has yourself has come into this home,” the kettle said.
“What of your mother?”
Caerwyn paused as he scooped tea leaves into a bag. “My father says that she traded me for a wish,” he said quietly.
Belle stopped admiring a plate that was admiring her back. “Traded?”
“My father asks a great price for his enchantments. I was one of them.”
He gave Belle his teacup, using one of the many others for himself. She pressed her fingers to the warm sides and brought the cup to her lips, blowing the steam slowly. As she did, her eyes roamed over Caerwyn’s face. It was impossible to forget what he looked like, but possible to notice something different about him each time she saw him, like the patch of fur just under his right ear that was a few shades lighter than the rest. She thought back on his words, how the enchanter had cursed his own son, but not his son, to protect him from the king and queen. It almost seemed cruel, but then Belle thought of all the things he had brought to life in the home so that he wouldn’t ever feel lonely.
“It seems as if your father would do anything for you. He must truly love you.”
Caerwyn smiled a little. He knew that to be true. Though his father would never tell him who the man and woman were that gave him up for a wish, he decided long ago that he didn’t care. Even if he had to spend eternity in this form, he never doubted that his home was filled with love. Although, that bargain seemed highly unfair after meeting Belle. He still couldn’t help but think she wanted to see his father more than him.
Speaking of his father, Caerwyn noticed him walking to the stables to gather more hay. Caerwyn grabbed a handful of cheese and bread and fruit. “Let’s go to my room.”
“Your room?” she asked, the red creeping to her cheeks.
“Uh, y-yes,” Caerwyn stammered. “So my father doesn’t disturb us. He’s not too fond of guests unless they come with payment.”
She glanced over her shoulder to where he had been looking and he sucked in a breath. He was relieved when she nodded and let him lead her upstairs to his room.
Whenever Baethan made snide comments to Caerwyn or bragged about his chambers at the castle, Caerwyn would secretly smile, knowing that not even the prince had a room like his. He opened the door for Belle and set his stolen stash of food on the table near the fireplace that never needed a single log of wood to burn.
His room was massive, an entire wall dedicated to all of his favorite books that he had stolen away from his father’s extensive collection. Vials made from brightly colored glass with jeweled stoppers were filled with herbs and potions that he’d practiced making with his father’s help, some potent enough to stop a bear with one drop. His polished wooden desk held parchments and inks and maps and rulers, all from his studies. He didn’t know how old his father was, but he knew that he had lived a very long time and seen a great many things and that knowledge he passed along to his son. Not even the prince would receive half the knowledge he did, even without taking into account the enchantments.
On his bed were sheets made of silk finer and softer than anything the prince could ever have. They were even enchanted not to rip from Caerwyn’s claws or tusks. There were two windows, one looking out to the dense forest and one to the mountainside. Every morning and every evening, he would watch the colors in the sky shifting and illuminating the lands in new ways. It was a view he wouldn’t give up for even the king’s room in the castle.
Belle held the cup close to herself as she ran her eyes along the bookshelves, skimming over every title. She paused and reached out to touch one but stopped herself.
“Please,” Caerwyn said, “Be my guest.”
She tugged it free and joined him at the table. The book was a collection of short stories from a land far in the east that almost no one had heard about. Caerwyn’s father told him that the stories were told by the beautiful young wife of a ruler and that they saved her life, as well as countless others. It always brought wonder to Caerwyn’s eyes to think that a story could save a person’s life.
Belle took another sip of tea and the cup said, “Your lips are much softer than Caerwyn’s.”
For the first time in his life, Caerwyn was happy that he didn’t have the dimpled cheeks he always envied because then Belle would see how much he blushed around her. What he didn’t realize was that she was already onto his tell. Anytime he got nervous or embarrassed, that tail of his curled in on itself.
“I hope that doesn’t trouble you,” she said.
The cup wriggled, nearly spilling tea everywhere. Caerwyn had learned long ago not to keep it near any of his books or papers. “It’s not as ticklish,” it replied.
Caerwyn cleared his throat and scooted closer to Belle. He opened the book to his favorite story in the collection: the one about the sailor who went on seven voyages, despite all the dangers he faced. Caerwyn envied him for the bravery that allowed him to see the world while he himself hardly ventured beyond the walls of father’s land.
“You can borrow the book, if you’d like,” he offered.
She smiled, drawing it close to her. “I would love to.”
Then, she reached into her satchel, retrieving her own books she’d brought with her. Something else remained in the bag, something heavy, but he couldn’t get a good look at it. She spread out the books and flipped open one. It was an atlas, containing many maps from all over the world. The page fell open to their kingdom, though the map was an old one and the kingdom had grown since.
“I’ve always wanted to visit these places,” she admitted, flipping through to another page.
“Why don’t you?” Caerwyn asked. She already proved to be much braver than he was by leaving her home to come all the way here on her own.
She let out a sigh, touching her fingers to a map of islands. In the sea were depictions of creatures known for luring men to their deaths. “My father is much like yours. He loves me and wants to protect me. Which means, I’m not supposed to ever leave my home. But, as you can see, that hasn’t stopped me.”
“What is he protecting you from?”
Belle opened another of the books. It was a collection of short stories that Caerwyn was familiar with but didn’t much care for. Rather than the brave and noble characters of the other book, this one was filled with cruel and nasty villains who preyed on all.
The pages of the books were illustrated but were also marked with notes and comments that Belle and her sisters had made over the years. One particular illustration of a knight stealing a woman away had a black drop of ink covering his face.
“My mother was taken from us by a soldier.” Her fingers traced the image of the woman, her nail running along her trail of tears. “And my father fears the same will happen to me or my sisters one day.”
Caerwyn couldn’t deny the possibility. In fact, it surprised him that she was yet to be spoken for. He touched his hand to hers.
“Were you searching for the enchanter to make a wish?”
Her eyes lowered, hidden by her long lashes. “I’ve had a wish in my heart for as long as I can remember,” she admitted. “But,” her eyes flitted up to him. “I think I have a different wish.”
Caerwyn knew that someone always had a wish. Even if they denied it, he knew they were lying. He himself had wishes, but he knew their cost better than anyone. He didn’t want to ask for her wish because he didn’t want to give her the bad news. But there was something he could give her.
He stood and went to his desk. Another thing the prince would never have was one of his father’s greatest treasures that he’d given his son when he was finally tall enough to peer over the stone wall and gaze at the mysterious world beyond. Caerwyn lifted the looking glass from the drawer and brought it to Belle. He set it into her hands carefully.
“This will show you anything you ever desire,” he explained. “Give it a try.”
She glanced at him with brows raised. Despite all the magic she had seen, she was still skeptical. She cradled the heavy glass, the silver finishing cold beneath her fingers. “Show me my garden.”
The image of her reflection clouded over, then the garden appeared. Her sisters were sprawled about, griping about Belle running off yet again and how they needed to mend that wobbly gate to keep her in place. Caerwyn glanced over her shoulder, in awe of all the brightly colored flowers blooming throughout.
Belle bit down on her lip. She had a mirror that would show her anything she could ever desire. Could it show her anyone?
“Show me my mother,” she whispered, her voice shaking. The image clouded, then returned to her reflection. She shifted it around to make sure it was actually her current reflection. “Show me my mother, please,” she tried again. The same thing happened. The glass clouded, then returned to her reflection. She turned to Caerwyn for an explanation.
He looked away, a frown creasing his thick brows. “If the thing does not exist…or is not alive, the mirror will not show it.”
Belle’s arms sagged. She set the glass on the table and shut the books.
“I’m sorry,” Caerwyn said, feeling foolish for giving her such hope.
She was quiet for a few moments. Her tea had gone cold and the cup silent during the heavy pause. “Have you ever thought of going out into the world? Instead of just looking at it?”
Caerwyn picked up the mirror. He’d used it many times to see as much of the world as he could think of. His father had warned him about using it too often, as it could drive one insane. He told him about a creature so obsessed with searching out the fairest of the land that it lost all humanity. Caerwyn’s stomach knotted as he wondered if Belle’s face had ever appeared in that creature’s looking glass.
“People…creatures like me don’t see the world,” he explained quietly, gazing at his reflection. He wriggled his snout so that his tusks were no longer lopsided.
“People like you and I should see the world,” Belle said, resting her hand on his.
Caerwyn set the mirror aside, tired of looking at himself. “I make everyone flee at the first sight of me.”
She smiled. “Then we’d never have to worry about crowds. Or bandits. I bet even that thief, Robin, wouldn’t dare cross us.”
Caerwyn laughed. He’d met Robin when his wife came to his father for some help with enchantments. They’d done a fine job sorting the riches in Prince Aven’s kingdom and were going to spread their good deeds to other kingdoms.
Belle perked up. “See, there’s nothing to stop us.”
Caerwyn looked at his fur-covered arm and flexed his fingers. His claws were always deadly sharp. At least if he didn’t scare an attacker off, he wouldn’t ever be defenseless.
Belle scooted closer to him, putting her arms through his. “I could make a wish,” she whispered.
The door to the attic slammed shut and Caerwyn jerked away as his father called to him. He scooped up the books and helped Belle return them to her satchel.
“Yes, Father?” he called back.
His footsteps stomped down the stairs. “I’ve had a thought about Prince Maxen’s request,” he said as he approached.
“Uh, what request?” He hurried Belle to his wardrobe and hid her behind his clothes. His father’s footsteps stopped at his door. The handle began turning. “Wait, I’m not decent!” he shouted.
“Not decent?” he asked.
As the door flung open, Caerwyn quickly ripped his shirt off, tossed it into the wardrobe on top of Belle, and shut the wardrobe.
She was thrown into darkness, a shirt atop her head. She shifted it down but held it to her nose for a moment, feeling the tickle of fur but also smelling it. It had the distinct smell of old books and hay as well as a bit of cologne. She wondered if he had put some on when he saw her coming.
“Whatever are you doing?” the enchanter asked his son.
Caerwyn flicked his tail nervously. “Um, well I was changing before you decided to walk in. Ever heard of knocking?”
Belle heard footsteps cross the room then the clink of glass. “Two cups of tea?”
“My first cup went cold. Right, Chip?” he asked.
The cup’s small voice agreed.
The enchanter grunted, seemingly satisfied with the response. “Well, finish changing then join me in the attic. I’ve been considering the prince’s recent request and need someone to agree with me.”
When his footsteps faded, Caerwyn opened the wardrobe. Belle quickly discarded his shirt and her eyes fell on his furred chest. He reached around her for a new shirt which he tugged on while she stepped out of the wardrobe.
“I’m sorry, but you have to go now.”
Belle glanced at the position of the sun. “It’s getting late anyways.”
He led her down to the stone wall, once again helping her over. But this time, he practically lifted her into his arms. He gripped her elbow a second to keep her from leaving.
“Can I make a request?” he asked. “Two, actually.” When she nodded, he asked the easiest one first. “If you come back, will you bring me some seeds? So I can have a garden like yours?”
Her smile filled her face. “When I come back, I’ll bring as many seeds as I can. And your second request?”
He hesitated, keeping his eyes to the ground. He had seen the other thing in her satchel. It looked precious and expensive. A treasure to be traded. “Please, don’t ever ask for a wish from my father.”
Belle shifted on her feet but he still couldn’t meet her eyes. Eventually she said, “Alright.” She lifted up to her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek, right where his tusk was.
He looked up as she walked away.
Caerwyn joined his father in the attic. Threads of gold overflowed several baskets, the store of hay nearly depleted. Soon, they would need more. Caerwyn always found it funny that they would use the gold to buy hay to be turned into gold, but it was the only thing that ever calmed his father’s mind.
He worked at the wheel for several minutes while Caerwyn slowly wound the thread in loops around his arm, cutting in measured lengths. Just like the spinning calmed his father’s mind, measuring and cutting the gold calmed his. Finally, his father let out a sigh and stretched his back.
“Maxen has requested a love enchantment this time.”
Caerwyn frowned, snipping the thread carefully. “You always told me love enchantments were the worst sorts of enchantments.”
“They are,” his father agreed. He sprawled out his long, thin legs. His tall frame was one of the things that intimidated people about him but more so was the dark look on his face. He had seen countless things in his long, long life that brought a shadow to his eyes and kept his jaw set tight.
“Then why even consider it?” Caerwyn pressed.
His father rubbed his eyes. “Because there are worse things than even a dark enchantment such as that.”
“Like what?”
“The bodies of girls piling outside the castle,” he answered in a weary voice. “If I agree to the prince’s demand, my payment could be that he be given the enchantment as well. So that both parties are as inextricably in love as the other is. Sure, a young woman will have to be sacrificed, but so many more would be saved.”
“How would you choose who to sacrifice?” Caerwyn asked, moving onto the next basket of gold.
“I would let Maxen,” he admitted. “It would be the only way.”
“But why does he even need the enchantment?” Caerwyn wondered.
“Baethan says the prince has grown tired of the women denying him. He says they should be happy to have his affection.”
Caerwyn shuddered, his fur standing on end. “But this could save others?” he asked.
His father leaned back with arms crossed. He stared out at the darkening sky. “I can only hope so.”

---

Belle returned four days later with her satchel full of seeds. With his father gone on business, Caerwyn and she tilled the yard. Belle had chosen a plot of land near the stables but not too close to the mountain’s shadow. She had her skirt tied at her thighs, allowing her to move more freely. Dirt was deep beneath her nails by the time they took a break.
Caerwyn brought food and water out to her and they sat together in the shade of the mountain. Sweat coated her brow, but not Caerwyn’s.
He hadn’t brought up his second request since she agreed to it. There were many reasons why he’d asked it and he’d like to say that most important was because he didn’t want her to incur a debt to his father that she couldn’t pay. But that wasn’t the truth. The truth was that he was scared of what her wish would be. He thought it foolish that she would ever waste something so precious as a wish on him, but he feared she would ask for Caerwyn’s curse to be taken away. He didn’t want to face the fact that even she couldn’t look past his monstrous form.
But she never brought it up as well and when they’d cooled down and refreshed themselves, they went right back to work. Caerwyn would dig up the plot and she would drop in the seeds and pack the dirt right back over it. He wondered how long it would be before his garden looked like hers.
Before she left that day, she kissed him. He’d never felt so relieved that his father’s curse at least allowed him to have normal lips. Forget dimples, lips were all he needed. Their embrace was brief and Belle’s cheeks were scarlet as she turned away to return home.
It was on that evening that a prince watched a beautiful young woman steal back into her garden, biting down on her lips as pretty as a rose and her cheeks as bright as azaleas. For Belle had become careless and left her hood down as she ventured through the forest and the prince looked upon her face, framed by her golden hair.
At Prince Maxen’s side, Baethan leaned over and whispered, “What do you think?”
“She’s just become the luckiest girl in the kingdom,” he answered. All he had to do was wait for the enchanter to finish his spell and he would finally have his wife at long last.

---

Weeks turned into months and Belle sneaked away to the enchanter’s any chance she could. No matter how hard her sisters tried to keep her in one place, she would slip away and go to Caerwyn.
Caerwyn himself was rather lonely when she wasn’t there, for his father had to leave to gather ingredients for Prince Maxen’s enchantment. It took him to distant lands for many days. But this also allowed Caerwyn the liberty to show Belle his home and let her meet all the things he spent his life with.
As spring turned to summer, his garden began sprouting. He did offer it a little help with some enchantments, eager to see their brightly colored petals blooming like he’d seen in Belle’s garden. But for the most part, he was rather patient.
They seldom went to his room since they had the entire home to themselves and Caerwyn always felt too embarrassed to ask her to join him. But when they did, there was a lot of reading and looking over maps and kissing. There was lots of kissing.
Caerwyn thought he would never, ever kiss a girl but Belle was proving a lot of his beliefs wrong. They would sometimes play the dangerous game of kissing on his bed and it was a gamble they often found themselves in and sometimes, Caerwyn even had Belle on her back. But every time, they regained their control and promptly shifted away from that very tempting bed.
Well, every time but one. Belle had managed to stop Caerwyn before he got too carried away, blushing as she asked about the living things in his room watching them in their very compromising position. With a wave of his hand, he brought a sleep to the enchanted things within the room. That should have been that, and they should’ve pulled themselves apart but their lips couldn’t stay away from each other.
Belle took his face in her hands, looking into his lovely blue eyes that had lost that sadness in them. “You are human, right?” she whispered.
Caerwyn chuckled. “As human as anyone. Just a bit more hideous.”
Her hands trailed over the hem of his shirt. “There’s nothing hideous about you.”
Belle’s lips found his again and they could not keep their passion in check.

---

The enchanter returned from his long travels a few days later, having nearly gathered all of his ingredients. As was always the case, Caerwyn was eager to ask him about the things he saw. They sat together in their massive parlor, filled with trinkets from around the world the enchanter had gathered over his long life. Books lined the walls, a globe continuously spun on its hinges, showing things crawling over its surface that Caerwyn did not quite understand and his father never explained.
The enchanter laid out the things he had collected for the enchantment then combined them into a cauldron stained with the years of use. There was only one thing left to complete the enchantment and he needed it from Caerwyn and himself.
As his father unstopped a vial and poured in the shimmering red wisp of light, Caerwyn asked what it was.
It dissolved among the milky liquid as it was mixed in. “A love enchantment requires the essence of love. Usually, one steals the love from another, leaving their heart empty, but one may just as well use the love from many others, taking only a sliver. Robin and Ciana were kind enough to trade only a simple – but very strong – sleeping enchantment for a sliver of their hearts.”
“Who else’s heart did you take?” Caerwyn asked, his eyes roaming over the other vials.
“A young woman pining for her brother’s fiancée,” he explained as he continued mixing them in, turning the enchantment red as blood. “A pirate captain longing to see the mother he hadn’t seen since childhood. And,” he reached the end of the vials then brought his long nail to his chest. He traced a lined down his heart and the red wisp flowed trailed after his hand. He dropped it into the cauldron. “A father who would do anything for the son he always longed for.”
He reached for Caerwyn next. “Finally, a son who has known to love a person not by the blood they share, but for the love given in return.” As his nail touched Caerwyn’s chest, he frowned. Caerwyn’s heart sped up, afraid of his hesitation. “There is a different kind of love in your heart.”
Caerwyn moved back, clearing his throat.
“Who is she?” he asked, the room darkening around them.
“A girl I met in the forest,” he admitted.
The enchanter’s eyes turned black, one of the reasons why people called him the devil, for his fury was darker than that of a demon. “You know that no one is to come here unless they pay a price for their wish.”
“She’s never asked for an enchantment,” Caerwyn protested. “She’s kind and beautiful and lonely. Like me.”
The enchanter’s anger waned, tenderness returning to his eyes. He very seldom got angry with his son. “Caerwyn, my boy,” he said gently. “I have done everything I could to protect you, but I cannot also protect the girl. She belongs to the king and queen’s kingdom and if they ever wanted to use her to get what they wanted from you, I couldn’t stop them.”
Caerwyn narrowed his eyes. “Why must you always blame the king and queen? Why would they ever want anything to do with me?”
“Because they are cruel people who would steal you for your magic. They would have you in chains so that you would spend your days weaving enchantments and riches for them.”
He touched Caerwyn’s chest and drew out a piece of his love. It was pulsating, strong with its newness. It brought a great sadness to the enchanter, for he could feel just how much Caerwyn loved Belle and his heart would suffer the loss of her greatly. He tapped his finger against the cauldron, letting the last ingredient fall in.
“I’m sorry, my dear son. But you must give her up. For her sake as much as yours.”
Caerwyn leapt to his feet and overturned a table in his anger. He stormed from the room, leaving his father to finish his enchantment alone.
The enchanter gazed about the room at all the things that had watched the budding love between Caerwyn and this girl without ever telling him. Yet, he couldn’t blame them for his own love for his son was imbued in the things of the home and to see him happy was reason enough to keep the secret.

---

Prince Maxen was coming that day to collect his enchantment. It was the first time he would visit the enchanter but he was forced to come if he wanted to have the enchantment. He himself had to make the vow to drink the potion along with his new wife.
Caerwyn didn’t want to be there to meet him and he also feared Belle would visit. The prince was going to choose who to use the enchantment on and he knew that should Maxen ever see Belle, he wouldn’t hesitate to make her his wife.
She did come and he met her in the forest. Her smile alighted his sad heart, still hurt over his father’s reaction and refusal to even consider meeting Belle. He embraced her, feeling whole again. She lifted to her toes to kiss him and he longed to carry her into his home and make his father meet her. But the prince was still inside.
He cupped her cheeks. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come today.”
“Your father?”
He nodded. “Prince Maxen is with him now. You should go home.”
Her eyes lowered, her hands pressed against his. “Can I come tomorrow?”
Caerwyn sympathized with his father, he truly did. It was a great feat to have their own land and territory beyond the reach of any king and queen and overstepping that privilege could cost them dearly. Belle was a citizen of the kingdom and if she was ever seen by the prince, he would have every reason to steal her away. But Caerwyn was in love and he would do anything to have her.
“Yes. Tomorrow you can finally meet my father.” He hesitated, looking at his furred hands, the sharp claws pressed to her delicate skin. It was so easy to accidentally hurt her and she even had a scar on her arm from when he got carried away undressing her. “But remember your promise.”
Her face fell. She still had a wish in her heart that she hoped to ask for. “I remember,” she said.
They shared a final embrace, lingering in each other’s arms for too long, neither wanting to break away from the other. But they finally did when Caerwyn’s claw snagged on her bodice and ripped it. She laughed while his tail curled tight but now that their lips had finally parted, so did they part until tomorrow.
Caerwyn watched until she disappeared. Then he sat atop the wall and just stared into the forest.
Prince Maxen curled his lip at the sight of the beast. He had heard about how hideous he was but actually seeing him was something he couldn’t ever prepare for. And never did he imagine a beast embracing a beautiful young woman. He had no right to put those terrible claws on her skin or touch those disgusting lips to hers.
The prince had his enchantment. Now he only had one last thing to gather before returning home.

---

Belle slipped into the garden where her sisters were tending to the flowers, the hot summer day having left them parched. The girls barely paid her any mind, thinking that perhaps ignoring her would finally discourage Belle.
Her father, on the other hand, waited for her with arms crossed. When he saw her, he grabbed her, pulling her into the house. “Belle, how many times do I have to beg that you just stay put? There’s word that the prince has come to the town.”
Belle pulled back her hood. “Don’t worry father, no one saw me.” She hung her cloak on a peg, the tear in her dress evident.
So many thoughts ran through the inventor’s head. He feared she had come across an animal or worse, a soldier. “Belle,” he started but was interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. He ushered her to the kitchen, pushing her somewhere out of sight.
When he answered the door, Prince Maxen stood at his doorstep with a band of soldiers at his back. The inventor paled and stammered a greeting to the prince.
Maxen stepped inside and the inventor stumbled back on his feet.
“What brings you to my humble home?” the inventor asked. “I’d be happy to create anything you desire.”
The prince had his ever-present sneer on his face. His blue eyes ran over the home filled with knickknacks that were either once part of an invention or going to become part of one. The smell of grease was heavy and black fingerprints coated the walls, the chairs, the books. The inventor had a lovely home but a dirty profession. Maxen was interested in neither.
“I hear that you have very beautiful daughters,” he said. “I would like to meet them.”
The inventor twisted his hands. “My daughters are far too simple to grace your presence, Your Majesty.”
Maxen stomped his boot, shaking the floorboards. “I demand to meet them.”
The inventor flinched from his anger but nodded. He hurried through the kitchen, shaking his head at Belle, and retrieved his other daughters. They were trotted in with their heads low and hands clasped together. Maxen frowned.
“Where is the other?” he snapped.
“These are all my daughters,” the inventor explained.
“Do not lie to me!” The inventor and his daughters flinched. “Either bring me your other daughter or give these three to my soldiers.”
The inventor went pale. He loved all of his daughters but Belle was his youngest and he had done all he could to protect her.
Maxen was growing impatient and his soldiers neared the other daughters greedily, until Belle stepped around the doorway.
“Belle,” the inventor breathed, pleading.
“If I go with you, do you promise to leave my sisters be?” she asked.
Maxen was struck once more by her beauty. He had gone through so many young women in his search for a wife but all paled in comparison to her. He walked to her, tucking a finger beneath her chin and moved her face to get a good look at her. His thumb ran over her lips that he’d seen pressed against that beast. They were soft like a flower, far too lovely for something so ugly.
“You have my word. Become my bride and your family will be under the crown’s protection.”
Belle’s sisters began to argue, objecting to the deal, but she raised her hand to quiet them. She’d heard the stories of women trying to resist Maxen. He never took too kindly to rejection.
And so, Belle could not be protected forever. She had caught the attention of the very man her father always feared would take her. She would never get to meet Caerwyn’s father and she would likely never see him again. For she had given herself in place of her sisters.