Hope for the Beast
By Fadzlishah Johanabas
“You overstep your place, Philippe.”
I stood between Lord Lucien and the hapless stable boy, not much protection considering my slight build. My hands quavered. Clearly my lord was enraged, capable of anything. “Please, milord. He has learned his lesson.”
The young boy’s left eye was swollen, and the nick above his eyebrow wept blood. His nose was broken. Another kick from Lord Lucien, and his face would no longer be recognizable.
“He did not secure the saddle. Look at me, covered in filth!” Lord Lucien swiped the back of his tan breeches and a cloud of yellow dust puffed up.
“No one else saw you fall. It’s not worth taking this boy’s life, milord.”
My lord’s broad, sinewy shoulders relaxed at this. He continued swatting dust off his clothing, and when he seemed satisfied, he spat at the groveling boy. “Get out of my sight before I decide to sell you.”
I quickly pulled the boy aside. “Go back to your village. He will have forgotten about you within the week.”
He kissed my hand and limped away. I managed a sigh of relief before attending to my master. I tightened the saddle girth and checked it twice.
“Why did you save the boy?”
“Because, milord, most of your servants and retainers who have not fled was either killed or sold off. At this rate, you will not have anyone to serve you.”
Lord Lucien gave a hearty laugh, his neatly trimmed golden beard and silken hair aglow with sunlight. “I have you, Philippe. Isn’t stable boy part of your job as my manservant?”
“Yes, milord.”
“And Philippe?” Before I could respond, he landed a punch on my right cheek. “That is to remind you of your place.”
* * * * *
By the time we reached the chateau, a squat gray building that used to be a fortress, I was out of breath. Lord Lucien had deliberately ridden his brown stallion at a brisk trot, and I had to jog all the way to keep up with him. He was swinging off his horse in front of the stable when we heard the commotion coming from the main entrance. Lord Lucien strode ahead while stabled the horse. I quickened my pace to match his long, confident stride, a reflex perfected from all the years serving him. My face throbbed with each step, but I ignored the worried looks other servants threw at me.
Margot, Head of Household and resident cook, sat on the front steps cradling a limp form sprawled at the entrance. From the fine texture of the moss-green skirt not hidden by Margot’s large girth, I knew the unconscious woman was nobility.
“What’s this?” Lord Lucien did not look amused.
Margot turned and made an awkward half-curtsey. “Milord! This lady here, she thumped on the door like the Devil was a-chasing, and when I opened it, she fell unconscious.”
My lord’s face lightened when he looked at the lady. His breath caught and his eyes widened. “What are you doing there, Philippe? Help Margot carry her to the guest room.”
I scampered to assist Margot. When I bent to pick up the lady, I realized the reason for Lord Lucien’s attention. Her breaths were shallow, and beads of sweat spotted her otherwise smooth forehead, but she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.
* * * * *
I sat on the kitchen stool imagining her face, free of worry and care, peaceful as if in slumber. The lady’s features were as porcelain, smooth and delicate; her hair lay in cascades black as a raven’s feather. Growing up with Lord Lucien, I learned to read and write alongside him. I knew my letters well, but I was never a poet; the lady made me one.
“You’d better put something on your face, lad.” Margot stood across the table with hands on her hips. Flour coated her hands and apron.
“It will heal, like it usually does. It doesn’t hurt, see?” I tapped my finger on the bruise, but I winced all the same.
Margot clicked her tongue. “I don’t know how you put up with the lordship, lad.”
“Same as you do.”
“But he doesn’t bully me.”
I gave her my brightest grin, showing her my gap tooth. It hurt to smile, but I did it nonetheless.
“Forgive my intrusion.” The voice, sweet as nightingale, came from the kitchen door. “Is there anything to eat? I’m famished.”
Both of us turned to look at the lady leaning against the doorframe. I rushed to her side and escorted her to the large kitchen table. I made sure she was safely seated before taking sinking down beside her.
“Bread and stew is about ready, milady.” Margot gave an elegant curtsey, considering her bulk.
“Please,” the lady said, waving her hand. “Just Gabrielle. Thank you for saving me.”
“You should thank our Lord Lucien, not us.” I could not stop smiling at her.
Lady Gabrielle gasped. “What happened to your face?”
I answered “I fell” as Margot said “The Lordship.”
“Surely he is a tyrant, to have beaten you so.”
Margot opened her mouth to answer, but I quieted her with a look. “This is nothing, milady. I deserved it.”
She looked skeptical but kept her peace.
* * * * *
My bruise healed after a few days, leaving me with a dull ache. Lord Lucien was in one of his rare fair moods, and had asked me to saddle his horse. If he remembered about the incident with the stable boy, he showed no signs of it.
As I secured the girth, Lady Gabrielle approached me from behind. “Tell me, why are you loyal to Lucien? From the whispers I heard, he’s a man to be feared.”
I pulled the strap to make sure it was tight while I contemplated my answer. “My mother was his wet nurse. He and I are the same age; we even shared the same milk from my mother’s teats. He may be a bully, but he has a good heart.”
“Surely you cannot believe that is true.”
“I do,” I replied without hesitation. “He lost his parents and I my mother the same day. They met with an accident, and only Lord Lucien survived. I cannot blame him for his anger.”
“Yet you remain kind. What’s his excuse?”
“I am but a servant. He has responsibilities. He is twenty-five, yet he has been Lord of this chateau for the past eight years.”
“He doesn’t deserve your loyalty,” she murmured as she stroked the stallion’s thick neck.
Lady Gabrielle left me before Lord Lucien arrived. He was whistling a lullaby my mother used to sing to us. He rode in silence, and I trailed him at an easy pace. Truly, his mood was as fair as the spring sky.
“Philippe,” he finally said after we were well beyond the manor, “what do you think of the Lady Gabrielle?”
“She is a beauty, milord.”
“Indeed. I have never seen her before at Court. Perhaps she’s visiting a relative.” He continued whistling.
Only then did I understand his disposition. He was smitten.
As I was.
The sudden whistling came without warning. The stallion reared, spooked. I heard leather snapping, and before I knew it, Lord Lucien had fallen on his back with a loud thump. The well-trained horse quieted, but the damage had been done.
“Philippe, you oaf!” Lord Lucien bellowed as I rushed to help him. “Can’t you even saddle a horse?” He pushed me away and I staggered back.
That was when I saw the strap. “Milord, look!” A small portion of the snapped leather was frayed, but the rest had a clean horizontal cut.
“It’s that stable boy seeking revenge. I’ll kill him with my hands.” Lord Lucien stood up and stretched to assess any damage, and glared at me. He took a step forward, but a bolt implanted itself between his feet, quivering.
“Stop right there.” Gabrielle stood ten feet away from us, her crossbow notched and aimed at Lord Lucien.
“What’s the meaning of this?”
“Lady Gabrielle!” I took a step forward, but she moved her crossbow to aim at me. “Please, what are you doing?”
“I am no lady, Philippe.”
“For impersonating nobility alone you deserve death, woman,” Lord Lucien snapped. His teeth were clenched, his body tense and ready to charge. Please, I pleaded with my eyes. Don’t do anything rash.
“With this bolt piercing your heart, my death will be worth it.”
My heart thumped against my chest, though it wasn’t for my own safety I feared. “Please, milady. Put the crossbow down.”
“Do you remember Thomas, Lord Lucien?”
“None worth remembering.”
“He used to be one of your staff!”
Thomas. He had been the stable master before he was caught stealing scraps of food. Lord Lucien had him flogged and sold to a slave merchant. “I remember him. He’s a good man.”
“He was a good man. After your lord sold him, he was sent to the mines. He was old and frail, damn you!”
I opened my mouth, but Lord Lucien spoke first. “If I sold him, he clearly wasn’t a good man.”
Even from this distance, I could tell she was shaking. “It was the blight, and we were starving. You had so much food wasted. You punished him for taking bread.”
“Please, milady. This doesn’t have to end with death.”
She looked at me, but she kept her crossbow toward my lord. “I told you before; he doesn’t deserve your loyalty.” Then she spat at Lord Lucien. “I curse you, you beast! You don’t deserve any ounce of happiness or respect. Now you’ll know what it’s like to die alone and unloved.”
I wasted no time thinking; I flew. I shoved Lord Lucien with all my strength, but then a sudden burst of intense pain blossomed on my right shoulder. I screamed. The burn of steel in my flesh was too much to bear.
“Philippe!”
Darkness crept from the corners of my eyes and I welcomed it. Anything to make the pain go away.
* * * * *
I woke up to sunlight streaming between opened curtains. My bed was plush; I had never felt such sinful comfort before. I moved to take stock of my surroundings, but the same agony burned through my skull.
“Philippe!”
I studied the man sitting by the bed. He looked familiar, golden and beautiful, but somehow I could not recognize him. Raw concern wracked his face. “Milord?”
“Thank God you’re awake!”
I recognized the posted mahogany bed. I was in his room, on his bed. I gasped and sat up, but Lord Lucien pushed me back down. My head spun. “Lady Gabrielle. What happened to her?”
“She got away. Don’t worry, we’ll find her soon enough.”
“Please,” I said, grabbing hold of his bigger hand. “Please, let her go.”
“I cannot do that. Not after she almost killed you.”
His words were not lost on me. I almost choked.
“Why did you do it, Philippe? Why save me?”
I closed my eyes, partly to ease the headache, partly to avoid looking at him. “Not only are you my lord, you are also my friend. When she aimed the crossbow at you, I tried imagining life without you.”
“What did you see?”
“Nothing.”
We spent several minutes in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Finally, he spoke up. “How can I ever repay you?”
“If you cannot spare Gabrielle’s life, then promise me one thing.”
“Name your price.”
“Not price, milord, but a request. Become the good man I know is sleeping inside you. Be kind to others, even if you cannot do so with me.”
“I cannot make any promises.”
I knew my disappointment showed.
“But I will try. For my friend.”
He called me his friend. That was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
When I did not say anything, he rose and walked to the door. “You need to rest.” He stopped at the doorway and looked at me. “Philippe, thank you.”
With that, he disappeared. I heard him mumbling about flogging Margot for being late with my food.
“Be kind, milord!”
I grinned even though it hurt to move. The beautiful Lady Gabrielle had thought she cursed Lord Lucien, when in fact her actions lead to the breaking of his self-imposed curse.
There was hope for him yet.
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Note: I originally wrote this for Enchanted Conversation's Beauty and the Beast theme. When it didn't make the cut, I tried submitting elsewhere. Unfortunately, placement seems hard because it doesn't suit any genre. The story's not quite literary, nor is it Fantasy, Historical, or even GLBT. Truth be told, I didn't try that hard. I love the story, and I don't want to house it just anywhere. So, what better place to publish it than my own site, where everyone can read it, free of charge? I hope you liked the story.
