Beautiful Beast

Chapter 12

KALISTA

My bedroom doors crash open and Arawn strides in. His features display a boiling storm of rage and in one hand he clutches a glass inkwell so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

Uh oh.

"It's an illusion. Everything is an illusion." He waves about dramatically with his arms.

A heavy brick of dread settles in my chest, but nonetheless, I calmly lay my book upon the window seat and stand.

"Come, I will show you," I say, then brush past him and step into the hallway.

He marches after me. "This is why there are no mirrors. Isn't it?"

I glance sideways at him but don't reply. He will see. We walk through the halls, descend the grand staircase, and cross the atrium. My hands begin to shake as I push open the doors to the ballroom, but if he notices, he doesn't say anything.

I have no desire to see this. I am too comfortable in my little dream world—reality hurts too much.

Gliding across the marble floor, I stop before the piano. It is a broken and sad instrument, just like the rest of the palace. Slowly, I play three notes. F, E, and A.

"I don't see a difference," Arawn states, turning about so that he might see the entire room.

"This room will never change," I reply woodenly, as I move toward the atrium. Holding my breath, I step into the entrance hall. It is another world, yet the same. It is like two sides of the same coin; one, shiny and new and the other, old and decaying.

Arawn inhales sharply at the sight before him—at the crumbling pillars, the cracked floor, the faded carpet, the dust which collects in corners and sleeps upon nearly every surface. I have tried many times to heal the broken palace with my magic, but always, when I blink again, it returns to disarray. The curse will not allow me even this one menial comfort.

He turns his golden-brown gaze to me. "This is your doing." The next word is a whisper. "Why?"

My fingers tremble and I hide them in the folds of my midnight dress. "This is my home. It breaks my heart to see it fall to pieces and know that there is nothing I can do to prevent it. I know that I should accept reality, but it is so much easier to live in a dream."

With that, I leave him and retreat to hide in my art room. The charcoal drawing which my hands create is a landscape of cruel lines that come together to form a dark forest where shadowy creatures loom between the trees.

The sun has begun to dip beneath the horizon when the door clicks open and Arawn steps inside. "It is nearly seven o'clock. Won't you join me for supper?"