Beast within the Beauty || A Beauty and the Beast Retelling

Chapter Twenty-Three || To Vex a Beast

"YOU MUST THINK yourself to be so very humorous," I mused as I stepped into the dining hall, waving his little note. The darkness of the room irked me—the servants had neglected lighting the candles beyond the table. I glanced to the man seated at the head of the table. I was certain the servants would not deny a request of his. "Or perhaps you have taken one too many hits to the head, seeing that you think it wise to arm an assassin."

"One is not an assassin if she has not killed anyone," he groaned, head held in the palm of his hand. He rubbed his temples as if soothing some deep-rooted ache.

I neared the table, careful not to trip on the hem of my skirts. "Would you like to be the first of my victims?"

He lifted his head. "The first, but not the last?"

"Certainly not," I assured him, squinting as to study his face by the soft glow of flickering candles. "Once I am rid of you, I suspect nothing will quite rival the entertainment of having been your bride and killer."

"Now you have me curious, dear," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Would you deem to honor all of your future...victims with a kiss and whisper, and perhaps, a show of—"

I scoffed, cutting his sentence short. "I am afraid that treatment is only limited to you, my precious, doting, darling of a husband."

"You will find that that sort of sarcasm is wasted on me, Ismae." The confidence of his statement made my finger twitch. "Your attempt of mocking me is rather endearing."

"It will not be all that very endearing once I have buried my knife into your throat," I muttered, making note to use that exact sort of sarcasm when the opportunity arose. I suspected it irked him more than he would let on. Without wasting another moment, my fingers sought the glass of wine.

Some expression I dared not name pulled the corners of his lips. "It has come to my attention that you feel the need to drink away your feelings whenever you broach such a topic.” He cooed, "Is the thought of killing your husband so very painful to swallow?"

I set the glass down with a rather harsh slam—he winced. "And it has come to my attention that you feel the need to bore me with your needless observations." I nearly added that his glass was empty—that he had drained it long before I entered.

Shadows smeared the space beneath his eyes. "In that case, allow me to entertain you with some other matter."

Tempting. "I have not come here to be entertained."

"And I do not suppose you came here to relinquish possession of your knives, either?" He lifted his head momentarily, confirming that my knives hung at my hip. "Why have you come here?"

Feigning nonchalance, I said, "To fulfill my duty as your bride."

"Only with you do those words equate a death threat," he mumbled. "You have made it quite clear that the only duties you claim are those that involve knives." When I said nothing and instead busied myself with the plate before me, he asked, "Why would such a beautiful..." I raised my head. "Smart..." I rolled my eyes. "Gentle..." I scowled, daring him to add another word. "Forfeit her eligibility to wed any man of her choosing?" he finished.

"I have told you—"

"You have asked me to be honest." He rose to his feet, a hand on the table as to brace his weight. "I expect the same from you."

With my lips pressed together, I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest. "Is my lord husband insinuating that I dare lie to him?"

"Not merely insinuating," he assured me. "As you pointed out, I am your lord husband. You do not need to confide in me—I know these things."