The True Tale of Thousandfurs

Sixteen

Thousandfurs returned once more, transforming from a beautiful princess into a beast. She hated running away from him, wanting to know him more and more every time she saw him, but she knew he would only open up to a woman of his caliber and not to the little girl he found hiding in the woods.

She sighed, her hands shaking as she undid her dress and switched back to her maid uniform. She was too afraid of not returning in time, she wondered if she ruined her chances of dancing with him ever again. She wondered if that was such a bad thing? She wondered if she even wanted that heavily weighted freedom.

If the world knew who she was- if he knew who she was and her father's sinful actions, she would constantly be looked upon with scorn and disgust. But lying and staying hidden from sight was exhausting. No matter the life she would lead, whether it be a princess or a peasant, she wanted to be herself, and hiding stopped her from doing that.

The ball would not be over for a couple more hours, and she was hiding inside of her cubby, waiting it out, trying to pass the time. She place her small spinning wheel on the stool beside her candle along with the golden bobbin that accompanied it. The wheel even turned and she smiled as it glimmered in the yellow light, her fingernail guiding it in little turns. Her mother had gifted it to her on her fourth birthday, and it had always been one of her most prized possessions, over anything else. When she thought of everything she had left behind, she was happy she had taken this with her.

As she poked her nail through the tiny spokes to give it another turn, the sound of the chef shouting just outside of her thin wooden door startled her. She moved her hand so quickly, she knocked the two trinkets onto the floor, not seeing where they landed. Frantically, she got down on her hands and knees, feeling around the small area of the stone floor, knowing there were very few places they could have disappeared to.

"Yah dirty animal! Get out 'ere!"

Her hand came down on top of the small spiked needle, pricking her, but her pain was short-lived, the joy of finding one of the trinkets, far more powerful. She quickly shoved the tiny object into the pocket of her cloak and threw her hood over her bonnet-covered hair. She quietly opened the door, peering out, afraid that she would be in trouble for taking too long to answer him, her mind still on where her small bobbin was lost too, "Y-yes, sir?" She asked wearily.

Chef turned around, his massive shoulders raised to his ears, his face red and bloated, "Da Prince retired early and 'e requests 'is soup in 'is chambers. Hurry up now!"

She had left the soup over the fire to cook while she was away, so it should be ready by now, even though she would prefer it sit a bit longer to gain flavor. Still, she grabbed a ladle and one of the bowls made of fine china that was only used for royals and guests and filled it nearly to the brim. Placing it on a tray, she did not bother to ask if she were to be the one to deliver the soup, not seeing a servant around to gather it.

Swiftly and silently she exited the kitchen, following the dark winding corridors of the servant's pathways, until she reached the prince's tower. She took each step carefully, her eyes trained on the soup the higher she climbed until she reached the peak.

Only a few nights ago she had been standing in this exact position but this time, her stomach did not twist and turn. Her heart did not ache from its constant pounding. She was almost eager to knock on the door and see the handsome man once again, but she hesitated.

She looked down at the bowl, which was about as deep as the length of her finger. The princess inside of her wanted to ask him to return to the ball with her, but the beast reminded her that it was impossible.

He was to love a princess, one he found radiant and beautiful. A woman with hair like no other. A wife he could show off and be proud of. Who would be proud of a beast?