Beauty and the Beast

Vincent couldn't believe that she didn't want his life for what he had done. His hands ached something fierce as she took him to the river and dressed his wounds. The sting aggravated him but the numbing afterwards calmed him. Her hands were so gentle as they glided over the knuckles that were broken and the ones that were just cut and bruised.

Vincent's eyes fell on Beauty and once again something stirred within him. This wasn't he warming of a frozen heart, but something he had never felt before. He needed Beauty more now than ever. This feeling was foreign, uncomfortable and yet soothing and a blessing to a man who deserved nothing.

"I want to bury Kale..." She stated as she worked his knuckles.

Vincent nodded, "I will help you, if you'll let me." As she finished, Vincent turned his hands palms up and took her hands in his. That feeling in his stomach repeated. He smiled at her, "I'll need to tie up the prisoner first."

Next, Vincent did something he hadn't done since the last time he held the hands of the women in his family. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them softly. It was out of respect, nothing more, or so he ought. His stomach repeated the same thing as before.

When he stood and only after he helped her to her feet did he release her hands, "Because of how badly I beat him," Vincent flashed an apologetic look, "He won't be able to walk. He'll have to use your horse. Would you mind riding with me on Dia?"
 
She felt around his knuckles, feeling that a few were broken and that concerned her. She began massaging the knuckles gently, moving the broken bones back into place. She would have to do this once more back at the castle and then wrap his knuckles tightly so that the bones could set properly. She sighed softly, trying to calm her racing heart. She was still in shock over what had happened.

She looked up at Vincent when he said he would help, if she would let him. She nodded her head. She had never buried a body before, so she would need help with the task although she wouldn't let him do much, considering four of his knuckles were broken.

She had let go of his hands but he had taken her hands in his and looked at her. She felt something stir in her stomach as she looked at him. "I'll need to tie up the prisoner first." She nodded her head to what he said, knowing that it was needed, although the man had been beaten so badly, she highly thought he would be able to escape from them.

She expected Vincent to let go of her hands but he did something odd. He brought her hands to his lips and he kissed them softly. She looked a little shocked and her cheeks flushed with blush. She had never had anyone kiss her hands before. Her brothers and her father would kiss her forehead, but never her hands. It felt so weird but it wasn't a bad weird, it was actually a pleasant feeling, but it was one she did not understand, not in the slightest.

As he stood, he helped her to her feet, still holding onto her hands. But once she was standing he let go of her hands.

She looked at him as he spoke, saying the man would have to ride on her horse.

Would you mind riding with me on Dia?

She looked at him and shook her head. "I don't mind at all," she said softly. She barely remembered riding with Vincent when he was first bringing her to the castle. She wasn't thinking about riding with someone for the first time in years.
 
Vincent flashed her a small smile as he left to tie the now unconscious man up. With what rope he could pull from Dia's sack he bound the man's hands and feet though he was confident that the man would not be waking anytime soon. Satisfied, he threw the man over Beauty's mount and took the last rope from the back to tie the man securely to the horse. He wast going anywhere. He would face the consequences of his actions.

Vincent went to retrieve the small shovel from Dia, all of his warhorses were always equipped with basic tools should something unsuspected happen. His hand brushed against his sword that he had given Beauty so that she could carry justice out on the man who had her father coldly murdered. But she refused him. She refused to punish him for what he had done, extending to him mercy. He would never understand why she did that.

Shaking his head, he pulled the shovel free and moved to where Beauty had tried to drag Kale's body. It seemed she wished to bury the man close to where she had set up the stones in remembrance of her father. Though each strike against the soaked ground hurt his hands, Vincent dug tirelessly into the ground in the pouring rain. If she wouldn't punish him, then perhaps he would punish himself. He found himself driving the small shovel harder to deliberately hurt himself though he hid it well. Beauty could not see what he was doing. He needed her to think that he was just helping her.

Halfway down, Vincent paused. He pants and some of his shirt was covered in mud, "Beauty, how do you know this man?" He asked before he drove the shovel in once more.

It had been far too long since Vincent had done hard labor. If it weren't for being in such great shape from fighting, he would of been exhausted by now. Before the murder, he used to go out and help the townsfolk with their chores. It was something his father had taught him to do.

Love the people, Vincent. Show them that even their basic tasks, like work, love and the things of life are important to you. Do this and when it is your turn to be king, son, they will lift you up. They will support you in times of trouble. They will love you though your enemies be at their doors. Do this, my son, and you will never be forgotten.

Vincent thought on his father's words as they echoed in his mind. He had done the opposite of what his father had taught him. Was it too late to fix that? Is what he had brought upon his people to heavy to be removed? He wouldn't know until he tried.
 
Malece helped as best as she could. She tried to shovel out the dirt as well, but Vincent would always take the shovel back and continue on on his own. She worked on removing stones from the ground so Vincent didn't hurt himself further. By that time, she was soaked to the bone from the rain and the mud was making the dirt sloppy and slippery. She climbed out of the hole, once it was deep enough and large enough, making sure, her fathers wedding band was still hanging from her wrist. When she saw it there she looked to Vincent. "I think its deep enough and large enough now," she said loud enough for Vincent to hear her above the rain.

She tried to get as much mud off of her hand before she moved to Kale's body and moved his hair from his face and gathered up his bow and arrows along with his gutting knife, cleaning it of blood before sheathing it and setting it aside. She would like to take the weapons with her, if Vincent would allow her.

Beauty, how do you know this man?

At Vincent's question she looked at him with sad eyes. "He taught my brothers to fish... and how to make snares for smaller animals in trees and in burrows," she said to Vincent. "He taught me how to listen and find out which fruit was healthy and which had bugs inside... He came with us from Demathis and he was a friend of my mother and father's," she said softly to Vincent. With the rain falling, he probably could not see the tears that fell from her face. "He was a good man... He cared for the ones he loved," she added softly, smiling as she looked at the lifeless body.

"Can I take his bow, arrows and knife back with us? They're family heirlooms of his," she asked, after helping Vincent out of the hole.
 
Vincent nodded as she helped him out of the grave, "Yes, of course," he understood wanting to keep things that belonged to someone you loved wether it was heirloom or not. Vincent kept a whole section of the palace locked away so that those things were left untouched, "Let's take care of Kale and while you're praying I'll tie his things to Dia so that they are near you."

Vincent helped Beauty lower Kale respectfully into the grave. Once he was in and positioned according to Beauty's orders, Vincent began to fill the grave. It took him less time, the rain helped wash dirt back into the whole. When he had finished shoveling, he packed it tight to prevent the rain from undoing his work.

"I'll be by Dia," he spoke softly as he placed a muddied hand on her soaked shoulder, "Take as much time as you please," he finished as he gathered Kale's belongings and moved to Dia. He had managed to find a rope long enough in the bag that was draped over Beauty's horse and was tying the heirlooms to Dia when his eyes fell back on his family's murder. It would be so easy to just end his life right now and no one would blame him. Beauty was busy and wouldn't be able to stop him. All he needed to do was slit the man's throat it would be silent and full of self satisfaction. But beauty would never forgive him. Not that he deserved her forgiveness in the first place. She would be angry with him and call him a monster. He didn't want that. He wanted her proud of him, he needed her proud of him. So Vincent didn't move toward the man. Instead, he brushed a soaked Dia and spoke of times passed and times to come.


Occasionally, he would turn and watch Beauty as she we t about her ritual. It was a macabre deed and yet so beautiful to watch her. Even with being unable to hear her, he could tell her heart was heavy with grief. He wished there was something he could do to take away her grief. He wished he could rewind time so that she had never met him. The thought hurt him, but ultimately it would of been better for her. No one deserved the fate that Vincent had laid out for her. If she had never met him, she would be at her family and friends and painless. Vincent was only pain and misery to Beauty.

"Vincent, you hurt me," cried Abigail as she pulled away from her brother, "Why did you do that?"

"I-I am so sorry, Abigail," he apologized.

"What, it's not good enough that you're gonna be king and rule the kingdom? You have to rule my life too?" There was so much hatred in her voice so much anger.

"I'm sorry, Abigail, he had a certain reputation about him and I didn't want you to be next. You deserve better," he tried to reason.

"Vincent, I love him and you took that away from me. I will never forgive you," she spat as she ran off in tears.

And she would never get the chance to forgive him. For in the morning, she was dead. This was Vincent's legacy. Failure. He failed his family, he was failing his kingdom and he failed people he had no right having influence over. Vincent watched Beauty work with grief stricken eyes. Soon they would return to the palace and he would do one thing that wouldn't be a failure, bring this man to justice.
 
Malece had gathered another bundle of wild flowers and herbs and repeated the ritual, singing softly as she worked. She then placed a few stones on the grave and then placed the bundle of flowers, before she kneeled once more and began her prayer.This day had gone worse then she had thought it would. She didn't know what this venture was all about. She had thought it was going to be a simple ride on the country side but it became so much more.

Vincent had given her chance to honor her dead family, even if he played a hand in their deaths, he still brought her back.

With the group of men showing up and ruining a peaceful moment, that just added more pain to her heart. But she had seen another side to Vincent. She saw the beast melt away more and he had protected her. And then Kale... Kale had appeared out of no where and she would have asked him to tell her brothers that she was okay. And she would have asked him if everyone made it safely after the raiders had left and where her father was buried... but that would not happen now.

She finished her prayer and felt her chest tightening with pain. She leaned down and closed her eyes tightly, letting out a soft sob into the ground as she continued to think that she would never see her brothers again. Her last family... and she would never see them. They did not know where she was, and with the rain, it would wash away any tracks they might leave from the horses. All of her hope was lost.

She sat back up and forced herself to stand up from the wet ground. She made her way back over to Vincent, sniffling a little. She didn't say anything but just from the look in her eyes, he could see she was hurting more then she would admit. She did not just loose a family friend. She lost any chance of seeing her brothers ever again.
 
Vincent didn't know he could hurt more as he caught Beauty's eyes with his. He would apologize again, but there was only so many times a person could hear it before they began to hate it. So instead of saying it aloud, he let his own eyes do the speaking. He had taken everything from her. She was alone and it was his fault.

Vincent broke his gaze from hers and checked the ropes on his captive. There was so much he wanted to as to her, but perhaps now wasn't the time. Satisfied that the ropes would give and set his captive free he turned to Dia. He brushed her wet neck. He could always talk with Dia without fear of criticism.

"You need to carry two on the way home, girl," Dia shifted uneasily, "You've carried more wait when I'm in armor. Steel your nerves, Dia." The horse calmed and seemed to nod.

The downpour of rain had saturated the ground turning each step into a small struggle. For Dia it would be worse. Given this, Vincent determined that it would take them a little longer to return to the castle. Even now, with the rain lightening to a drizzle, it would be a miserable ride. Both riders were soaked and the wind was beginning to pick up carrying with it a chilling edge. He wished he had something dry and even something warm that she could hold to so that she would not fall ill. But he had neither.

Vincent silently mounted Dia and turned to Beauty. He lowered a hand and smiled as best he could. The memory of he sister still haunting him. What if he strove to do better? Did he always have to fail? Looking down at a soaked, sorrow-filled Beauty, he purposed that she would be the first person he would strive to not fail. There was something more about her than just her beauty. Something gripped his heart when she was around.

"You ready?" He asked as he waited for her to take his hand. He would help her up if she would let him. Either way, when she mounted Dia, he would direct her and the other horse toward the castle and through the drizzling rain and chilling wind.
 
Malece could see the sorry in Vincent's eyes but she remained silent. She hadn't bothered to pull her hood back up since she was already soaked through. She knew the ride back would be slower then the ride here and she wished the rain would just stop so they would not be so cold and wet when they finally reached the castle.

She watched Vincent as the male moved to the unconscious and bound man, making sure he would not be able to escape on the journey. She hugged herself as she stood there, watching Vincent. She didn't want to think about anything at the moment. Her hope of seeing her brothers was dying and her chest ached with the pain of that realization. She remained silent as Vincent spoke to his horse, whom was named after his youngest sister, she assumed. The horse was beautiful, when it was not wearing armor and dragging you to your captor's home.

You ready? She looked up at Vincent when she heard him speak. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle and she was glad for that, but the breeze began to push a cold chill at their wet forms and she could feel herself shivering. She nodded her head to him and took his hand, climbing up onto the horse, sitting behind him before he began urging the horses on, starting the slow, difficult journey back to the castle.

~

Hour's later Malece could see the castle gates ahead of them, finally. She was freezing and her head was staring to ache. She would need to see if they had the herbs she needed to heal herself and Vincent, knowing the male would be ill as well. She would also have to reset his knuckles and wrap them this time. For the ride there, she had loosely held onto Vincent by his waist. Her heart was still aching from the intense sadness but she felt something odd in the pit of her belly as she held onto Vincent. She could feel his muscle and the warmth he gave off.

With their bodies being so close together, they both stayed warm. Wet, but still warm, considering the wind picked up considerably and made the light drizzle feel like a freezing spray of water.

As the gates opened and they came into the courtyard, Malece looked around, looking at Kale's weapons tied to Dia. She would have to clean them with someones help since she did not know how to do so, before she would preserve them properly.
 
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As soon as Vincent's mount and tow had moved through the gate, his eyes fell on Gordon and a band of men preparing to leave. When Gordon saw him, Vincent could see relief was over his face, followed quickly by quiet anger. Gordon wouldn't dare lash out at him. Instead the general made his way to his king.

"My lord," Gordon saluted, "We didn't know you had left and thought something had happened."

Vincent waved him off, unintentionally revealing bruised hands, "I took Beauty somewhere. It turned out to be far less pleasant than I hoped it would."

Gordon was going to ask him about his hands when a panting Sarah gasped. Both Vincent and Gordon's eyes followed Sarah's. she was looking at his captive, "My king?" Gordon put voice to both their question.

Vincent smiled as he slid from his horse and then helped a still quiet Beauty. It broke his heart that she hurt so badly, the thought driving his smile away. He turned to Gordon as he walked toward the other horse. Painfully, he gripped the man's hair and lifted his head. Gordon and Sarah both took in a breath.

"They attacked us while we were out," he would try and a kid spilling any details as to what they were doing and where, "I killed the other three but this man I brought back for justice. Gordon take him, secure him and prep the gallows. Tomorrow he will be hung for his crimes against the crown."

Sarah was crying, not of sorrow or regret but relief. Finally justice would be served and perhaps through that justice, Vincent would become who he was meant to be.

The cuttig wind reminded him that he was still soaked and cold which meant so was Beauty, "Sarah, see to it that Beauty gets whatever she wants if it is within our ability to get it to her. If she wished to be left alone, let her be." Vincent saw no need to bog down the woman he had already hurt and even through his act of kindness had only worsened her feelings. Maybe he was just a monster and it wouldn't matter if he try not to be. He had been one for far too long.

"I'll be in my study," he paused a moment, "Only if Beauty wishes to see me can I be bothered."

His hands hurt but the desire to be in dry clothes outweighed any desire to have them taken care of. He looked apologetically at Beauty once more, her eyes reminding him that eve his kindness toward her would always be twisted by his cruel ways. He sighed and turned to head toward his study, confident that his orders would be carried of to the letter.
 
Malece shivered as she untied the weapons from Dia's saddle. She seemed to be in her own mind as Vincent explained to Sarah and Gordon what had happened. He had left out the reason for the ride, but she didn't question it, she was deep in thought, trying in anyway to cling to a shred of hope of seeing her brothers. But every turn she made the rain reminded her it would be washed away. She held the bow and the sheathed knife to her as she stood, feeling the wind blow once more, making her shiver.

She looked up seeing the relief on Gordon and Sarah's faces. She was glad this family would receive justice, in the proper way. She felt hot tears stream down her face and she shivered once again. She wanted a hot bath and some tea. Hearing Vincent tell Sarah to get Malece anything she needed. Looking to Vincent, she could still see the look of sorry in the males eyes as he said he would be in his study and only Beauty could bother him. She took that to heart and thought she would pay him a visit, maybe share some tea and then properly heal his knuckles. She could see them, bruised and the medicine had washed from them.

As they entered the castle, Malece was ushered to a bath and she did not fight as she removed her clothes and climbed into the bath, washing away the mud and blood. Holding onto the wedding band, she washed her hair next and sighed, feeling clean. Climbing out of the now dirty water, she dried off and dressed in yet another simple dress, this one a dark blue color. She then put on her slippers and moved into her room, where she brushed her wet hair and let it dry a bit before she walked with Sarah to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, a blanket draped around Malece's shoulders since she still felt cold, she began making two glasses of hot tea. She also gathered the proper items to heal Vincent's knuckles before, with Sarah's help, she went to the males study, knocking on the door.

After a few moments, Malece opened the door, peeking into the study. "I brought you some tea... and I wanted to properly wrap your knuckles," she added after a few moments of silence. She now wore her fathers ring on a piece of twine around her neck, the band tucked into her dress.
 
Vincent did head straight to his study. He needed to bathe to wash away the mud and blood and try to clean away his shame. He knew he could of scrubbed all day, but what he had done could never go away and everyday he saw beauty, he would be reminded of that.he wished there was a way that he could erase everything he had done. He wished he could of brought his family back. But everyone needed to learn to live with the choices they had made, including a king.

When Vincent finished his bath, slipped into a loose fitting white shirt and a pair of brown pants. His feet would be warmly covered by a different psi of black boots. He scooped up the latest book he was searching through and started to the study. He nodded to his guards and reminded them of his orders to only allow Beauty beyond this point. He was confident she wouldn't visit him. Being reminded that everyone she loved had died at his hands had to make it difficult to spend time with a monster.

Vincent slid into the chair behind his desk and sighed at the mess that had accumulated over the past couple years. Books were scattered carelessly sounds the room. All of them a failed resources. Noted and papers scattered unorganized. Most of which just had his thoughts written on them or the names of possible leads that could aid him. As he placed the book from under his arm he wondered if it would have answers or would it join the others? He was sure if he would let Sarah in to clean t would probably be easier to focus. But some of these papers had private and intimate notes from himself that he wanted no one to see.

Time passed as he flipped trough the book. He hasn't even noticed that someone had knocked and when the door opened, he looked up to yell at the intruder. But his mouth closed quickly when he saw Beauty, the only person permitted to enter his study.

"I brought you some tea...and I wanted to properly wrap your knuckles."

Vincent nodded and gestured to a chair, "Please, have seat." He hurried up and cleared the books from the chair he had gestured to, "Sorry, I don't usually allow people in here. I don't remember last time Sarah had even come in here to clean." He took his seat. He would wait to see what Beauty would do.
 
As Malece made her way into the study, she set the tea cups down before she went back to Sarah, who stood in the door way and took the other items from her, thanking her for her help. She then watched the guard close the door, leaving Malece and Vincent alone in a very messy room. She was a little shocked by all the books and papers. She moved to sit down on the chair that had been cleared for her but she looked at Vincent.

Taking the cup that she had already started to drink from, she took another sip, sighing a little as the hot liquid warmed her up. She was still wrapped up in the blanket but she was wearing a warmer dress since she was still cold. "I made the tea with ginger root, lemon grass and crushed apples. It will help make sure we won't catch a cough from the cold rain," she explained softly. She didn't mention that she had made some for Sarah and Gordon since both wanted to try it and they liked it. She thought at least that they did. She took another sip of her drink and closed her eyes, feeling the tea warm up her chest and stomach as it went down.

Holding the glass in her hands, she looked around looking at all the books that were piled in various spots. "My mother used to have books like this where she healed people. She never let me read them though," she said, looking at one book in particular. She could see her mother holding the book open and reading out loud from it in a language Malece never understood.

Her mother had just started to teach her how to read from the books when she was arrested and soon after, burned.

Malece cleared her throat and wiped her tears away from her eyes before they could fall. She offered a sad smile to Vincent. "Let's work on applying medicine to your hands," she said, a sad smile on her lips as she moved to stand behind the desk Vincent sat by. She set down the small basket that had her herbs that she had ground into a paste and clean bandages Gordon had given her to use. She held out her hand, waiting for Vincent to give her his hand so she could begin.
 
Vincent listened carefully to Beauty's words. She had mentioned that her mother had books like these and for a moment, his heart stopped. These were books of magic, sorcery and witchcraft. If Beauty's mother had them, then perhaps she taught her something and she could help him. He was about to ask her when she mentioned her mother never letting her read them. Vincent looked down at the desk in disappointment.

Vincent took his cup from Beauty in painful hands and put the cup up to his lips. He was shocked to find just how badly he needed to warm liquid as it slid down his throat. He closed his eyes tasting every bit of spice that Beauty had put in and let out a small smile. He could see the sorrow still in her eyes and it did nothing but way more heavily upon his heart. He cared for this woman, more than he ever thought he would because there was something different about her.

Beauty asked for his hands and for a moment he just looked at her. He wanted so badly to punish himself for what he had done to her. But instead, he put his hands out for her care. He couldn't take back what he had done to her, not even apologies would fix it. Perhaps he should just accept the fact that he destroyed everything he touched.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, yet again. He could never say it enough, and to be honest, he didn't expect her to forgive him. If the man that had lead the attack on his family apologized, Vincent would still have him hanged. Justice was something everyone deserved. One day he would give it to her.
 
She looked at the books a moment before she turned her attention back to Vincent's hand. She pulled out the small bowls with the fresh paste she had made along with the clean bandages Gordon had given her to use.. She then took some of the paste and into her hand and she began rubbing the paste onto the sore looking knuckles of Vincent's hands. The sting was more intense with this paste then it had been with the leaves at the river, but the numbing was also very strong, removing the pain almost instantly. She began gently rubbing the male's knuckles, gently pushing them back into place, the paste making it so there was little to no pain.

"I'm sorry." hearing him apologize had her pausing for a moment but she just offered him a sad smile before she continued on with what she was doing.

Once she was done with one hand she had him hold the hand up to let the paste set before she did the same to his other hand. Once they were both done, she took a cloth and cleaned the excess paste away from his fingers and from her own hands before she began wrapping the male's knuckles. As she did this she looked very peaceful and calm, like this was what she was meant to do. Once both hands were tightly wrapped she offered a smile and looked to Vincent. "Your's knuckles should be sore in the afternoon tomorrow, by then I'll have to reapply the paste and re-wrap your knuckles," she said, sounding like a seasoned healer. She smiled to herself and chuckled sadly. "I sound like my mother," she said smiling sadly as she cleaned up after herself.

At the raid, her mother was not one of the people there so something must have happened before then, especially with the information her mother had had magical books in her possession.

Malece took the basket with her as she moved around and sat back down in the seat he had offered to her from before. She leaned over and pulled a particularly old book that she recognized. She opened it and looked at the hand written pages, knowing the hand writing. "This belonged to a witch, correct?" she asked, looking up at Vincent.
 
Vincent's hands stung as she spread the paste over his bruised knuckles. He let out a breath as the numbing sensation began to spread replacing the pain with a soothing feeling. He winced expecting his hands to hurt as she massaged his knuckles into place but was relieved when it didn't cause any. She had decided to be gentle when she had every right to cause him pain. She wrapped his hands in cloth and he watched her face. beauty had a calm about her that he would not of if he were treating the wounds of the man who had ruined his life. He smiled as she compared herself to her mother.

"Beauty, your mother would be proud of you. Not many people would be able to carry out their administrations to the man who was responsible for a state like yours," Vincent was going to smile, but thought against it. He decided to speak of something else, "The tea is delightful, thank you." He bowed his head appreciatively to her.

He watched somewhat in trepidation as she scooped up a book and opened it. A flash of recognition ran across her eyes but her following question made him doubt she really had seen the book. He nodded in answer before he spoke, "Every book in is study contains magic. Some are from scholars and end up being purely science, others are rituals of dark arts and curses," Vincent pointed to the book in her hands, "That book in particular is of witchcraft. Very powerful magics are written within on how to break curses," but unfortunately, the one he needed was not found within it.

"Do you know that book?" The question itching the back of mind, "I'm not sure where it came from, Gordon had dispatched son troops to recover it for me. I seem to have a need for them," he couldn't tell her the real reason, not when she already had tons of reasons to hate him. One more would certainly seal his fate.
 
Malece continued to look at the book, turning to the back of the book and looking at the signature. It was her mothers signature. So her mother really was a witch. But, Malece never watched her mother perform and witch craft. All she had ever done was heal people. She only ever helped others. Malece closed the book, looking a little confused. She looked at the cover of the book and remembered watching her mother taking the book out and writing down what this old woman would talk to her mother and her mother would write in the book. Maybe her mother wasn't a witch, maybe she was just helping an old woman write down these odd incantations.

Do you know that book?

He asked her and she finally looked up and looked at Vincent. She nodded her head at his question. "My mother used to write in this book when an old woman would come over every few days before the old woman disappeared," Malece said, looking at the book. Maybe the woman was a witch and left her mother to take the blame for her witchcraft. Malece put the book back down on the pile, not wanting to touch the book any longer. She took her tea cup and took a sip of the still warm liquid, sighing softly.

Malece looked like she was deep in thought as she sat there, her eyes looking around at other books, not picking out any other books that looked like the ones her mother owned. She saw none of the books that she grew up reading and memorized at the constant use. Now they were are all stored in her mind and she wanted to write them all out and maybe even sketch out the proper plants, like her mother had in her books. She wondered if her brothers kept the books with them or not? The authorities only took the books that had witchcraft in them and they only found three books, the other two she did not see in this room.

"We left Demathis because they burned my mother alive, having accused her of witchcraft when she had only help an old woman by writing down the woman's rambling's," Malece whispered to herself, not believing the sentence even as she uttered it.
 
Again he had something that caused her agony. Everything was unfolding against him, "I'm sorry," he apologized as if he had a hand in her mother's burning. But they both knew he didn't. Vincent's kingdom was far lore lenient than the other kingdoms toward witchcraft. If her mother was indeed a witch, she would of been able to practice freely here.

"These books are from all over the world. I'm looking for answers to questions and none of these have been able to help," he let out a deep breath and leaned forward on his elbows, "I'm beginning to think I will not find my answer." He couldn't tell her what the questions were. She couldn't know that his kingdom was cursed because of his actions and if he didn't break the curse in three years, everyone would fall into a deep sleep and suffer untold nightmares for eternity.

To try and change the subject before Beauty asked questions he was not ready to answer, he smiled and leaned back as he spoke again, "I'm to assume that Sarah gave you all that you needed, or that she helped you acquire it?" He stood to his feet, "I know I cannot make right the wore I have done to you, Beauty, but I will do my best," he moved to the window that overlooked the garden and fixed his eyes on his mother's grave. His hands folded behind his back, "From this day forward, you are not confined to the castle. You're free to roam the grounds and the town below," he turned to face her again, "I only ask that you allow an escort to accompany you. I cannot let any more harm come to you. I've done enough."

Vincent pulled his hands from behind his back and moved to the front of his desk between Beauty's seat and he desk. He sat on the edge and looked down at her, "Whatever I can do to help you and make things as right as possible, I wish to do that. I've done too much damage, to you, and I need to make things right. Will you let me do that?"
 
She shook her head. "You have no reason to be sorry," she said softly, looking into her cup holding it still before she took another sip of the slightly sweet liquid. She looked up at him as he spoke about how in his kingdom, her mother would have been left alive. If only that were the case in Demathis. There the people are extremely religious and the king especially, so any form of witchcraft is seen as evil and whoever is found guilty is burned at a stake in front of their family. That was a horrible day for their family and many of the families of Demathis, considering how many people her mother had saved.

She had barely caught what Vincent had been saying about the books and why he had them there, to find an answer to something or another, she was too lost in her memory of the fire and the screams from her mother as she burned. She looked up however, torn from her thoughts, to look at Vincent as the male stood up from his seat and looked out the window. She could almost feel how his eyes went to the graves that resided in the lush and beautiful place. It was a pain they would share, in a sense.

"From this day forward, you are not confined to the castle. You're free to roam the grounds and the town below," she heard him say, his back turned to her and her eyes widened with surprise but relief. She didn't know what she would be able to do, but she wanted to help someone anyone, how she used to help people. Or at least, get some blank notebooks and pencils so she could write down her thoughts and her healing techniques that she had learned from her mother. She wanted something to read and remember and hold that would bring back good memories. As he turned to face her he spoke again, "I only ask that you allow an escort to accompany you. I cannot let any more harm come to you. I've done enough." that was not a horrible request and in fact, she would prefer someone to accompany her, since she does not know this place much at all.

She looked up at him as he moved to stand in front of his desk, looking at her and talking once more, wanting to make things right by her. That was something that she welcomed and she offered him a gentle yet sad smile. "Thank you..." she said to him, her voice soft but sad.

She looked down a moment. "I... I was wondering... if it would be possible to meet with a seamstress and have my own dresses made... I don't feel right wearing someone else's clothes... I do not want to cause anyone to feel pain when they see them... I rather they remain preserved with the memories that have already been made in them," she said softly to Vincent.
 
Vincent crossed his arms as he mulled over her request. It wasn't that she didn't like the dresses. She just wished to honor his sister's memory. He could appreciate that. So he nodded, "Yes, I'll have Sarah fetch her," then an idea popped into his head, "that is unless your like to go to her? I could take you myself. It has been to long since I walked among the people and I'm due anyway. Why not put the two tasks together?"

Vincent found that he was more eager tha he ought to be to show her about the town. He wouldn't be showing her off as some prize but showing her his real prize, the people of his kingdom. He loved them as any king should but he had grown to forget that while he fought to rule with iron.

"Besides, I need to check on the gallows to be sure they are ready for the prisoner," maybe the execution would lighten the mood of the town. Most of the town had been there the day the witch cursed their king. Those who weren't heard within the night. A sense of defeat and urgency had settled over the people.

"That's what we will do," not really giving her the choice now. His people needed to see him and the difference this one woman had made in his life, "Guard!" He called out. When the soldier poked his head into the study Vincent continued, "Inform Gordon that Beauty and I will be going into the town." Vincent felt bad for how much of stress it was on Gordon when he had taken Beauty and vanished this morning. So he would have Gordon informed this time.
 
She hoped he didn't take her request the wrong way. She just wanted something of her own and she felt like Sarah would start sobbing if she continued to wear Abigail's clothes, so she felt like everyone around her was suffering all over again and she did not want that. All of this crossed through her mind as he crossed his arms and looked as if he was thinking. She hoped he would allow her to get her own dresses. She did not even need many. Two for walking around and climbing, one for riding and one for sleeping. She relaxed slightly when he said that she could get new dresses, but then he began offering to take her to see the woman in town.

He didn't really leave her any room to argue or say that she would prefer Sarah to accompany her. She was not sure how seamstresses worked here but where she was from, they had her strip and measure against the skin. She rather not have him near by when that happened, she was very conscious about her body, although she had no reason to be.

"That's what we will do," she heard him say and she looked at him, still not saying anything as he called, rather loudly, for a guard. The loud yell had caused Malece to flinch but she looked behind her to see the guard. She looked back at Vincent as he gave the order and it seemed everything was now set in stone. She had hoped to maybe relax tomorrow, but the faster the seamstress had her measurements, the faster she would have her own clothes to wear.

"Al-Alright," she whispered timidly and tiredly. Malece had had a rough day and she was feeling tired and she wanted to go lay down. Her eyes looked up at Vincent. "Are there any fireplace's I may sit by for a while before bed? I'm still feeling a little chilled," she asked Vincent. If not then she would just curl up more so under the covers of the bed.
 
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