Free The Eye of the Beholder by Elizabeth Darcy Page B

lent it a strangely funereal air, and I shivered at the thought of closing them around me. Everywhere I looked, objects of obvious expense had been placed, but none of them lent the chamber any cheer.
    My eyes filled with tears as I looked at the cold, unfamiliar objects about me. I was rather astonished by what I saw, for I had believed I was to be the beast's prisoner, not his guest, but the chamber suggested otherwise. In spite of the effort that had obviously been made to make the chamber welcoming, I heartily hated everything within it. I wanted to be back at home in my cottage, where all of my familiar and well-loved objects were. I had brought a few things with me, but there had not been much room to spare, and my heart ached for the beloved objects I had been forced to leave behind.
    I set my pack down, too fatigued to even attempt to put things away, and dug through it until I found the object I sought. It was a miniature portrait of my mother, roughly the size of my thumb, and I focused on it with tear-filled eyes until I had an idea. Returning to the dressing room, I opened the chest, finding what I had hoped would be there. I withdrew a slender white satin ribbon and threaded it through the small eye on the top of the miniature. Once, I had worn the miniature around my neck on a fine gold chain, but the chain had been one of the many possessions I had been forced to sell when we had lost the old manor. It had been painful to cease wearing it, but I had placed it on the table next to my bed in the cottage and had been content to gaze upon it every night before lying down to sleep. Now, I felt the need to wear it once again and, as I tied the ribbon around my neck, I felt a slight abatement of the heartsickness that had plagued me since I had left the cottage.
    Reluctantly and somewhat fearfully, I stepped over to the bed. I could see that a fine white linen shift embellished with lace had been laid upon it, and I carelessly removed my garments, leaving them in a pile upon the floor, before pulling the shift over my head and climbing into the bed. It seemed as large as my entire chamber at home, and I had the disconcerting sensation that I was lost, adrift in the midst of some strange sea of fine linen sheets and feather pillows. I would have thought that I could not sleep at all, considering how overwrought I was feeling, but I was exhausted from my journey. It was not long before my burning eyes closed and I drifted off into a deep, unsettled, sleep.

Chapter 9: The Guest

    She was here. The castle walls seemed to reverberate with the consciousness of her presence. My voiceless servants flitted from one end of the castle to the other, attending to various chores in honor of her arrival. Their activity irritated me and the change in atmosphere of the castle was most unsettling. Years upon unchanging years had passed, and I was apprehensive of the changes that had already been brought about by the presence of this maiden.
    I had struggled for some time with the decision of how to treat her. Was she my prisoner? Was she my guest? I knew the servants hoped that she would be my salvation, and this knowledge angered me. She was here at my will, not because she was meant to be my savior. In the end, perhaps she would deliver us from the torment we had known for so many years, but if this was to happen, it would merely be a means to an end. She was here to serve me, and I would have liked to have treated her thus, but I knew that if I did it would destroy any chance, however slim, of her breaking the enchantment.
    Her reception had been unusual but necessary. I thought it probable she would be in some state of turmoil when she arrived, and had not wanted to exacerbate this by exposing her to the servants. They were under strict orders to stay out of her sight for the first week of her residence, and I would follow suit. It seemed best to allow her some time to settle into the castle as much as she could before introducing