Beauty and the Beast

Vicente could only weakly smile as Beauty promised to save him. But could she? He had done much harm could he be saved? Did he deserve to be saved? Would he save the man who killed his family? No. He would and will watch him hang.

Vincent rose to his feet and stepped away from her. He was a mixture of confusion, admiration, love and anger, "How? Why?" He finally spoke, "I've done so much harm. Im not even sure I deserve to be saved, let alone by you," he dropped his head, "You speak of a beast and the real me. Im not so sure there is a difference anymore."

His eyes moved to the painting of his family and he could see the disappointment in his father's eyes. He could see the tears staining his mother's dress. The hate in his sisters' eyes pounded against him. Every crime he committed in the name of his family, every person he had ever hurt flashed between he and the painting. His father was passing judgment and the pain in his chest as he looked over at his shoulder to Beauty told him he knew what that judgment was. Loneliness. Vincent couldn't be saved. No one would want to save him.

Vincent moved to a chair and sank into it. He had never wanted this, not yet. His father should of still been on the throne. Two of his sisters should of been married with their own children. His youngest should of been enjoying her youth and crushing on boys. And Beauty should be with her family and friends. She should be married to someone she could love with her own little feet playing around her. But Vincent, or the Beast, they were on in the same to him, had destroyed all of that.

Vincent coughed twice before he dared to speak again, "You should spend your time saving someone who deserved it, not someone who only ever hurt those he loved."
 
Malece remained silent as she watched him, listened to his words. She couldn't, didn't know what to say to the male to make him understand that she would not give up on him. Everyone could change, if they tried hard enough.

She brought her hand up and wiped her tears away from her face, having calmed down a bit, enough to stop her tears and her sobs.

Looking up at him as he sank into one of the few chairs in the room, she watched him with sad eyes. You should spend your time saving someone who deserved it, not someone who only ever hurt those he loved, he said to her, making her chest ache.

She stood up from where she had knelt on the ground, moving towards Vincent and she took a seat in the other chair there, pulling it over towards Vincent. "Everyone deserves to be saved," she said to him, looking at him. "You may not realize it, but you've already proven to me that what your saying is just your grief rambling," she said, her eyes, blood shot, red and filled with sadness. "You proved you were not a beast the moment you lifted my punishment," she murmured to him.

"A true beast would have let me wither away until I died of hunger and thirst," she added. "A true beast would not have taken me back to honor my father or protect me against men who wanted nothing more then to use me and then kill me. A true beast would have been able to go to sleep peacefully even with hearing my whimpers from this room," she finished, her gaze shifting to the floor.

"I will save you Vincent... even if it kills me," she promised, determination filling her eyes as she looked up at the painting of his family and then her eyes falling on him. She wanted to get to the real him and then maybe her pain will ease and she will be able to move on... maybe even find her remaining family.
 
Vincent listened to Beauty speak. Each word rang true but as she had said, he was so caught up in his grief that he wouldn't listen to any of them. He had one so much wrong. Instead of continuing on this topic of circles, he chose to move on.

"Are you better, now?" He asked as he suppressed another cough. It was weird that such a thing had just come upon him and since he had been in this chair, he had coughed thrice. Perhaps he was coming down with something. He would see the doctor after the hanging tomorrow, "I meant what I said, Beauty. I will stay with you until you have I more need of me. Even if I must have Sarah bring in some sheets and pillows so that I might sleep on the floor. You are important to me, in more ways than you'll ever know," he blushed slightly. The last part was only supposed to be a thought.

Vincent cleared his throat in embarrassment before coughing again, "I'm sorry, I should not have," interrupted by another cough, "I'm sorry."

He settled as he stood to his feet and moved to the door. He opened it and called to the guard, "Fetch, Sarah, have her bring me some water," the guard scurried off and Vincent returned to Beauty's room.

"My apologies, it seems I've something stuck in my throat. Nothing a little water won't chase away," he smiled despite the heaviness of the room. He was waiting to find out if she still needed him or if Sarah's next task would be sheets and pillows.
 
Malece watched Vincent as he changed the subject. She knew with how grief stricken they both were, the message would not penetrate, but she was glad for the change of subject, even if it was to her current state. In all honesty, she was not better, but she was not worse, which was a form of being better.

She would have responded to Vincent, but he was coughing. She was a little concerned and it showed on her face. She could hear her mothers voice in her mind attempting to tell her what kind of cough that it was, but she could not hear it clear enough. She was tired and she suddenly felt heavy, but she forced herself to stay awake. If her mother was alive, she would know exactly what was wrong and what treatments or mixture of herbs to use to begin the healing process.

But she was not her mother, at the moment she did not know what it was that ailed Vincent. Maybe it was the cold rain causing the cough? She was not sure.

Her eyes followed him as he stood up and went to the door and told the guard the ask Sarah to bring him a glass of water. Maybe it was just something in his throat and the water would help. That was a a common mistake and Malece knew this.

When he sat down once more, she looked at him. "I... I am fine now... Just a little tired..." she admitted honestly. "If I wasn't so tired, I would probably know what would help chase that cough away, but my mind is not focused at the moment," she added after a few moments.

Her eyes lingered on him, although there were no more tears in them, they were still filled with some pain, but not as intense as it had been a few moments ago. She sat down at the end of the bed, resting her hand against one of the four posts and she leaned against it as they sat in silence. "If you are not well tomorrow, will the hanging be postponed until you are well enough to be present?" she asked, just curious.
 
Vincent smiled at her as she spoke of chasing away his cough. He shook his head and dismissed it like it was nothing, "Just a tickle in my throat, I think. Once Sarah arrives with that water, I'm sure I'll be fine."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Vincent moved back to the door and opened. Sarah stood before him with her head bowed and a cup of water extended out to him. It wasn't like Sarah to not look at him, but with Beauty waiting for him, he thanked her and took the cup. He began sipping at it as he turned to see Beauty sitting on her bed leaning on the post.

"If you are not well tomorrow, will the hanging be postponed until you are well enough to be present?"

Vincent looked at her and moved back to the chair he had sat in before He placed the cup on the table before he took a moment to think before answering, "The people have waiting long enough to hold that man responsible for his deeds...I've waited long enough," it wasn't a correction, but an inclusion, "If I am still not well after the execution, I will make my way to bed. You have my word," he promised her.

Vincent hoped she would understand. A part of him saddened that she would not get a physical manifestation of justice for all she had lost. She had vowed to end the beast, so to do so meant she would only see a changed man. There would be no blood for blood or life for life. He felt bad about that. Surely, though, her brothers would come for him. They would not be so forgiving. Vincent secretly begged them to hurry.

He cleared his throat before he stood back to his feet, "Well, since you are better, Beauty, would you like for me to continue to stay, or would you like to send me off to bed?" He was in no hurry to leave her, after all, he promised to stay so long as he needed him. He just didn't want to overstay his welcome.
 
She had looked to Sarah, seeing the look of sadness in the woman's eyes but the door closed before their eyes could meet. Why was Sarah sad? Malece would just have to ask tomorrow. Her head turned back to Vincent as he sipped his water. She was not so sure if the water would chase the cough away or if their was something else, an underlining problem that would soon present itself.

Malece understood that he and his kingdom were finally receiving the justice they rightfully deserved and the female nodded her head. As he promised to return to bed if the cough worsened she seemed to leave the topic of the cough behind.

It was hard for her to understand that one could find peace and justice in another persons death. The idea always seemed to baffle her and although she understood, it was not something that she, herself, would give her peace. If anything, she would be guilt ridden and distraught. Being a healer was exactly that, she wanted to heal everything and everyone she possibly could, that was how she regained her Justice. If Vincent had truly been as beastly as he had seemed the first days she had been there, she would only hate him and try and escape from him and never see him ever again. Knowing he was suffering pain that no one should go through, pain she understood, she could see how he would become cruel and hard.

Her brother's were much like Vincent, and it frightened her. They did not share in her healing ways. They exacted their revenge and would recieve their justice. As far as they knew, she was dead and that would fuel their rage, rage that she could not help quell with her words and her actions.

Malece was brought back from her thoughts and she looked to Vincent as he stood up.

"Well, since you are better, Beauty, would you like for me to continue to stay, or would you like to send me off to bed?"

A look of pain flashed in her eyes. She did not want to be alone tonight. "You do not have to go... I would prefer not be alone," she whispered, looking at her feet as she uttered the last few words. She felt guilty, making him stay near her constantly. She was just a reminder of the monstrous things he had committed. "We... We could sit by the fire? Maybe the warmth will help with your cough," she offered after a few moments of silence.
 
Vincent was taken a back, though he hid it well, when Beauty asked him to stay. She had made it a point to say she didn't want to be alone, then alone she would not be. Vincent smiled slightly at her mention of using the fire to warm and hopefully soothe his cough, though the water seemed to be doing just that. Vincent took another drink from his cup and smiled before returning it to the table and moving to the door.

Vincent pulled it open to find Sarah speaking with the guards. When they saw him, they stood to attention, "Sarah," he started, a smile teasing the corners of his lips, "Please fetch me some pillows and a blanket." Sarah nodded and scurried off before he pushed the door shit and returned to Beauty.

"Well then, Beauty, would you mind joining me by the fire?" He gestured before he moved to the fireplace. He took the poker and stirred the logs before adding a couple more. He sat down on the small crested rug and patted the floor next to him. He couldn't wait to sit with her, and maybe even hold her. Whatever he could do to chase away the shadows that haunted her, he would.

"We don't have to speak, Beauty, we can do whatever provides you with the comfort you so need. I can be an ear to speak to, arms to be held by, a target to unleash on, and even a shoulder to cry on and a pillow to scream in. I will be whatever you need," he couldn't believe the words that came from his mouth. He never thought he would ever feel like this and honestly mean the words he had spoken. Vincent was almost willing to even give up the crown if that would make her happy. Why? He knew not other than he had fallen for the woman he had so severely wronged.
 
Malece watched Vincent as he stood and went to the door. Her thoughts kept going back to the cough and what she should be telling him to do instead of going outside where the wind would give him a chill and make his cough worse. But he wanted and deserved his justice for his families deaths. Besides, it was not her place to tell a king what he should or should not do. She was nothing more then a peasant girl who had been gifted with her mothers beauty.

Staying sat on the bed, she let her thoughts keep going through the possible ailments Vincent may have had... but none of them seemed to match with the one her mother had said to hear when she had first heard the coughing. She would have to construct a list of possibilities tomorrow.

She watched as he sat on the floor by the fire, not before poking the logs and adding a few more to keep the fire from dying. She stood from the bed, her dress bunching up a bit, showing a bit of her leg before the dress fell to her ankles once more. Her skin, kissed by the sun and not to pale, was not just along her face and neck. It continued throughout her body, no very pale places other then her most private of places. And even then her skin was still even.

Moving towards him, she sat down next to him, tucking the dress she wore, under her a bit as she sat, kneeling a moment before shifting so she was comfortable. She looked into the fire as he spoke to her, but she turned a little to look at him, letting him know she was paying him attention.

After a few minutes though, she did not say anything, looking back into the fire.

"My mama used to sing my brothers and I a lullaby as we would huddle by the fire during storms..." Malece began. "My brothers were both sick and my mother and I were tending to them while staying warm by the fire. We would sit on the stone of the hearth and sing with her as she would sew up holes in papas trousers or one of my brothers trousers," she continued to speak softly, her eyes never leaving the fire as she retold the story.

She leaned forward, touching the warm stone of the hearth. It was cleaner then the one from her home, it was smoother and polished and appropriate for a royal family, while her's had been rough, and cracked and always dirtied by the soot.

Doing something odd, she took Vincent's hand, holding it gently with her own as she began singing softly. It was in the language that she had been praying in, but the words were beautiful and comforting. She could feel her mothers voice with her as she sang it, her eyes closing as she pictured the moment in her mind, sitting by the hearth with her loved ones and singing with her mother.
 
Vincent eyes fell on the beautiful woman next to him. She reminisced and in that moment he wished he could give her everything she missed. He wished he knew spells to bring back the souls of the dead along with their repaired bodies. He wished he could send her brothers an invitation to the castle so that once again her family was reunited. But alas, he could not. Vincent was fated to be death not life. So he sat quietly.

Next, she shocked him by taking his hand and softly singing to him. Her voice was soft and pretty. It was captivating, causing his eyes to fall on her and making him lose all will to pull them away. His hand tightened slightly around hers as he saw the look in her eyes. Vincent's chest tightened when hers closed and his hand loosened. He had realized that though she sang the beautiful song in his presence, it was not for him. She was singing to the memory of her loved ones, some of which he stole away.

Vincent wanted nothing more than to leave in that moment. He felt more like an intruder in that private memory than he had ever felt. But his promise, and her warm hand anchored him in place. He looked down and away from her in shame before his eyes were drawn to the flame.his own memory kicked into and he was whisked away to a memory of his own.

"Mother, please!" A six year old Vincent begged.

His mother stood over him, one hand resting on her swollen belly, her other tossing the hair that framed her exhausted face. But eventually, she smiled and grunted as she lowered herself to her son's bed, "Alright, one time, then you must sleep." Micah nodded and as soon as the sweet sound escaped his mother's lips, he fell asleep.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and once he realized it, he quickly wiped them away with his free hand. As soon as his hand fell back at his side, Vincent coughed..once...and then hard enough to make him grip his chest with his free hand and squeeze Beauty's tightly. He felt badly for interrupting her moment, but he couldn't pull his his hand free and he couldn't stop coughing.
 
Malece kept her eyes closed as she sang. The song was short and she could repeat the words with ease just as her mother had for her and her brothers on those nights that the thunder would frighten them. Even to this day storms terrified her and she did not know why. She would have thought she would have out grown that fear, like her brothers had, but it seemed she was still growing or she would never be rid of that fear.

She barely registered the gentle squeeze of Vincent's hand. She was too caught up in her memory and if she had been alone she was sure she would have fallen into another fit of sobs. But having Vincent next to her, the warmth of his hand, reminding her that it was just a memory. He was her anchor.

Her eyes opened though when she heard Vincent start coughing. She felt her hand, her free hand, move to his chest, feeling the cough come from his chest. She looked up at him, concern in her eyes.

She let go of his hand to stand up. She helped him up and had him sit in the sofa by the fire. "Water is not going to chase that kind of cough away," she said softly to him. She went to the door then and opened it, taking a few steps back in surprise, the guard having had his head pressed against the door. He had been listening to her song. She regained her composure and she looked at him. "Please get Sarah for me," she asked softly of the guard. "The kings cough is getting worse and I need her to stay and monitor him while I go too the kitchen," she explained.

The guard only moved then, hurrying down the hallway to go and fetch Sarah for his kings well being.

Malece closed the door and went over to the bed, grabbing a blanket. She went over to Vincent and wrapped him in the blanket. She knew this could be one of two possibilities. She hoped, however, that it was the less dangerous of the two. She would just have to hope that Vincent felt better in the next few days.
 
Sarah moved quickly when the guard fetched her. The look in the young man's eyes only spurring her on. What could possibly be so important that the guard would be so nervous and worried for? She had not been able to pull any information from the man so her feet would just need to carrier swiftly to be sure everything was alright.

When the approached Malece's room, the other guard automatically opened the door. There was no knock and no hesitation. Sarah hurried past them and into the room where she'd saw Malece huddled closely to a blanketed Vincent. She hurried to the hearth and lowered her head in a bow.

"You sent for me, my lady?" She spoke.

Vincent smiled and spoke between coughs, "I think Beauty is overreacting, Sarah, it's just a cough. Bring me that water and I should be fine."

Sarah move right away, though her face showed just as much disbelief in what he said as she assumed Malece was showing. The cough sounded horrible, and deep. The way that Vincent's hand had balled his shirt above his chest only proved even more so that it was more than just a cough. But who was she to argue.

Vincent took the cup from her and she watched as he drank it in sips. Each swallow made him wince. His throat obviously raw from his coughing. Sarah's eyes moved to Malece and they begged her to fix her King.
 
Malece relaxed a little once Sarah was there. She stood up and looked to Sarah. "Stay with him a moment, I need to make something for his cough," she said softly to Sarah before slipping on her slippers. She looked to Vincent as he drank the water in rather large gulps, causing him to wince. "You should take smaller sips, your throat is sore from the coughing so drinking too much at once with sting," she advised softly before she excused herself.

Once she was out the door, she moved quickly, almost running to get to the kitchen. Inside the kitchen she went to work, boiling water and grinding herbs together into a paste.

The water was boiling and she put cut up apple wedges and lemon rinds before squeezing some lemon juice into the boiling water. She then added mint and cloves to the boiling water, stirring the mixture around until the pieces of fruit and herbs wilted and the water tinted darker. She asked for help from a guard who stood in the hall, since none of the maids were around. She had him carry the hot liquid in a pot, wrapped in rags so he didn't burn himself. She carried a basket with clean rags and the paste she had made.

As they walked back, their steps as fast as they could manage before they reached the room she had been stay in. She thanked the guard who opened the door for her and she let the other guard in, asking him to set the pot but the hearth.

"Sarah can you get another shirt," she asked softly, going into full fledged healer.

She then looked to Vincent and gently took the males cup setting it away before she removed the blanket setting it against the sofa, covering it. "I need you to remove your shirt Vincent," she instructed, her voice gentle. She was pulling out the paste she had made and the small cup, dipping it into the hot liquid. She handed it to him, wanting him to drink it. "It is not sweet, and it will sting slightly, but it will coat your throat and help let the soreness pass," she explained softly.
 
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Sarah nodded and both her and Vincent watched a Beauty hurried off. Sarah looked at her king and frowned, "My lord," she said as she took a step toward him.

Vincent waved her back, "Don't worry, Sarah, it is just a bad cough," he squeezed out before falling victim to another fit. When it finally ended, his head lulled back as he grew dizzy.

"How long has this been going on?" Sarah asked.

"Just tonight, why?" He questioned.

Sarah hung her head before she replied, "People have begun to fall ill. A severe cough followed by an extremely high fever happened and some have even fallen into a sleep and can't be woken. They aren't dead, but won't awaken."

Vincent let out a chuckle that was interrupted by coughs, "I'm sure I just have a cough."

Sarah opened her mouth to argue but Beauty had returned. Sarah bowed silently before she quickly exited the room leaving Vincent and Beauty alone once more.

The blanket was removed his body and Vincent moved to follow Beauty's instruction. He peeled the shirt from his torso, revealing a well toned body with a few scars. His chest was slightly red from him rubbing it between coughs and it rose and fell quicker than normal as he was forced to catch his breath. He took the cup and after her warning, he began to drink. His face twisted from the bitter taste and the sting as the liquid poured down his raw throat, "Good gods, Beauty," was all he said, "It's just a cough," he repeated himself as Beauty busied herself with her calling, "No need to fret over it."
 
Beauty remained silent as she rolled up her sleeves to her elbow, revealing slender, tan arms that went to work. She began dipping the cloths into the boiling mix, not minding the hot liquid all too much. She let the cloth's soak before she went over to Vincent. She ignored the blush that wanted to form on her cheeks, seeing his bare chest, and brought a wet hand up to his forehead, her fingers feeling the fever forming.

"That's something normal people say. A healer, someone who lives to heal the sick, can hear the difference between a simple cough and if it something much worse," she said, her wet hand moving to his chest, above his heart, feeling the quickened pace. She moved her hand to the right, feeling right above his lung. "Take in slow deep breaths. Your heart is beating too quickly," She said softly, pulling away, keeling down and lifting up the paste.

She set the bowel down and began rubbing the paste into his chest, rubbing the warm paste into the red spots before moving outwards before she covered the rest of his chest.

Once his chest was tinted a redish purple, she moved back to the pot, pulling out a soaked cloth, steam rolling off of the hot cloth. She moved over to him and rested the cloth against his chest, having him lean back as she covered his chest in cloth's. Once his chest was covered, she waited until they dried before she peeled them off.

"My mother would be able to tell if someone had a chill or one of the three plagues just by hearing someone speak or cough," she said, saying something just to pass the time as she used the dried cloths to wipe the paste away. "She was one of the best healers and she taught me everything she knew," she added after a few moments. She had Vincent lean forward before repeating the process on his back.

The combined effect on his chest and back seemed to sooth the cough away, the raw sting in his throat dulling slowly.
 
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Vincent studied Beauty as she moved about doing her calling. There was a certain determination about her to heal the man who had caused so much pain. It was mercy he did not deserve, but one he would accept without question. Beauty was a rare woman. She seemed to be free of grudges, incapable of hatred in its truest form. They were two qualities that a man like him would need if he were to ever receive the love of a woman. Seeing as he had done so much evil.

Vincent followed her instructions to the letter, not wanting to risk ruining this moment. A moment where she tended to him as his mother had once. The feelings that stirred within him once again telling him to feel loved. It was something he knew to be impossible for Beauty could not fall for a beast such as he. However, it didn't keep him from imagining such a thing. The fantasies of a lonely heart were cruel but only after they provided a false sense of their whispered promises.

Vincent slowed his breathing. Even a warrior such as he, knew that doing so would slow his heart rate but this was not combat. He did this for Beauty. His eyes slid shut as he leaned back allowing her to spread the paste and then the warm cloth. After she had done the same to his back, he could immediately feel relief. His throat hurt less, his cough lessened. He felt better and he had not even realized just how horrible he had truly felt.

"Beauty, thank you," he spoke, "You are truly more than any man deserves. You will make one very happy one day," just not him. He cleared his throat and looked up at the woman who had just nursed him, "You're mother taught you well. This is a gift few people have, I'm glad you have not turned your back on it. Any further instructions?"
 
Malece seemed to be solely focused on what she was doing, she did not think about the reactions her body wanted to have. Her stomach felt odd and her hands felt very warm after touching Vincent's chest. She had had this sort of reaction towards someone else. She had had men her age ask to court her, but she always refused. She was always caught up in her work and lessons from her mother that she didn't care for the thought of love.

"You will find someone amica mea(my love)." "You will feel like your belly dances with joy. Every thought of them will make your heart flutter and a smile to form on you face." "Love will find you Male and it shall warm you when you least expect it."

Malece heard her mothers voice in her head as she wiped the paste from Vincent's back. With him unable to see her face, she felt her eyes widen but she shook her head and focused, not wanting to continue to think about the possibility of loving Vincent. He had hurt her, caused her fathers death... but he had brought her back to honor him and risked his life to protect her... and he helped her bury Kale... He was changing and it was something she had promised to his fallen family, to bring back the true Vincent... but... was she falling in love with him?

She finished cleaning him up and she folded the rags up putting them in the basket. Beauty listened to Vincent, hearing how his voice began clearing, slowly but surely. She was glad she had caught it before it had gotten worse. By the sound of the cough, he might have caught something worse then just a chill. "You are truly more than any man deserves. You will make one very happy one day," her cheeks flushed when he said that, something she did not expect him to say, but she was facing away from him, putting the basket near the pot that was now half empty.

Any further instructions? at that question she turned to look back at him. "I would suggest resting and not doing anything strenuous for the next four days and drinking hot tea, twice a day. I used the last of the clove to make the brew for your chest and back, so I'll need to get more so I can make the proper tea," she said softly.

Just then there was a knock at the door. She went over to the door and opened it, letting Sarah inside. "And staying warm," she added to the list of instructions.
 
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Sarah nodded in respectfully but urgently as she brought her king a fresh shirt. She bowed as she laid it on exit to him and then looked up at him, "My lord, if I may?" Vincent nodded as he picked up his shirt and snapped it out. He pulled the material over his head and stretched out his arms through his sleeves.

Sarah cleared her throat and spoke meekly, "You should take Beauty's directions, my lord, this kingdom would suffer greatly if you fell in and passed. We would lose the last member of the greatest family to ever rule our blessed home."

Vincent smiled at his servant, "I will, Sarah, worry not. It would take much more than a meager cough to rid you of me. I'll only attend the execution tomorrow and hen I will return home to rest. Beauty said nothing strenuous for four days, then so be it. I will do my best."

Sarah glowed with gratitude for both her king and for Malece. She had managed to tame a side of Vincent that none had thought possible. If Malece kept these up, then surely she would win the king's heart all the more and possibly even gain her freedom. Sarah's heart ached at those words. If Malece left, what would happen to Vincent? He had clearly fallen for the woman, Sarah heard hose words with her own ears. If yet another person he loved disappeared, would that destroy him and push him into a point of no return. She swallowed hard and quickly turned away from Vincent as to not show her fears. Malece would not be so lucky if she was looking. She would see them in Sarah's eyes but it would have been easily mistaken for his current health.

"Thank you for the shirt, Sarah," he smiled just before she hurried out. His eyes turned back to Beauty, "Thank you again. It has been a long time since someone has shown me the kindness that you have shown me." He knew why, but he would not burden her with another self pitied story.
 
Malece watched Sarah and Vincent interact. She had never been with a royal before. She was a peasant, a hunters daughter, there was nothing overly amazing about her at all. Well... that would be a lie. She did have her talent with healing, that was one thing she was truly very proud of. Many lives had been saved by her hands before and after her mother died. It was something she would always remember as something good she did, even if she was a peasant.

She turned around as Sarah turned away from Vincent, lifting the pot up from the hearth and moving it away so it could cool. She would have to dispose of this once it was cooled, her mother always told her to let the heat kill the disease that was brought back into the pot and then dispose of it. "It's helps stop the spread of plagues and illnesses," she remembered her mother would say to her as a little girl, still learning her way with the potent herbs her mother grew and the ones they found in the woods on trips together to get more herbs, wild herbs that do not have a seed with which to grow them with.

Malece turned back around and looked to Vincent, watching him, too see how his body was reacting to the treatment. She would hope he was feeling better, but they would not know until the morning.

Hearing Vincent thank her for her kindness she bowed her head a little. "It was my pleasure. I would not wish for you to get ill. This kingdom needs their king," she said softly to him.
 
Vincent nodded silently in thanks. Beauty had said the same thing as Sarah and it meant a lot to him. Perhaps he was reading into her words, he hoped not. He took them to mean that despite everything he had done, she still found him worthy to be the king. His heart drummed with excitement and healthy pride in such words. Perhaps Beauty had really forgiven him.

"Well," he spoke as he gathered himself, "Perhaps you will be able to sleep better tonight, having her given the opportunity to work at your calling. To helped a man get well tonight, Beauty. A good deed in a sea of wrongful ones." He smiled tight lipped at her as he moved to the door. As he stepped through it, he turned and looked over his shoulder, "Good night, Beauty."
----
Vincent slept like he had never done so previously. He was no longer plagued by dreams of nightmares having only been able to spend some one with Beauty and express to her his deepest emotions. Though by the way she reacted, he assumed she did not grasp many if not any of them. None of that mattered, just telling her lifted a wait but added a new one, guilt.

A soft knock on the door stirred him from his slumber and in walked Sarah, "Sorry, my lord, but you asked that I awake you for the hanging."

Vincent rubbed his still sleepy eyes and moved to the edge of the bed. He dropped his legs over the edge, "Thank you, Sarah." She bowed and left.

It took Vincent a few minutes to dress. As he left his room, he was met with a small dispatch of guards. It was custom for such. As they passed Beauty's door, he stopped and moved to the door. He had no idea if she was in there, but he wouldn't wake her if she was. His gloved hand pressed gently against the door, "Be well, my heart," poetry barely spoken as he once again told her of her importance to him.

Vincent joined his men once again and the small escort took him to the castle gates.
 
Malece nodded her head and watched as Vincent spoke while standing, walking to the door. Her eyes rose to lock with his as he turned his head back to say good night to her. She offered him a gentle smile as he stood in the doorway. "I will try to get some rest. I hope you will do the same, Vincent... Good night," she said softly to him, bowing her head, her hands folded at the front of her as she stood there. She watched as he left, closing the door behind him and Malece seemed to relax then, her cheeks flushing with a blush since she was now alone in her new room. She decided it was time for bed. Moving towards the large and soft bed, she crawled into it, covering herself as she laid down. She let out a sigh as she closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

~*~

That morning she woke early and washed up. She changed into another dress and into the boots she had been provided. She busied herself, cleaning up in the room, bringing everything down to the kitchen, with the help of a guard. Once in the kitchen, she cleaned the pot she used and cleaned everything up before she looked through the herbs. She would have to find out if she could grow an herb patch outside, but for now, she would have to go into town for herbs she needed.

She would have gone on her own but a guard escorted her, and she did not argue as they went into town. She was never alone, the guard always behind her as she shopped for the herbs they needed in the kitchen, including plenty of cloves for Vincent's tea's. She would chat with the villagers but not for long before she moved on, the guard following behind her.

The villagers watched her as she bought the things she needed before she decided to go back to the castle.

When Vincent finally woke, she had been in the kitchen making his tea, but she left it to the maids to make sure he drank it, before she went back to her room. She felt tired and she wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

She sat by the window, looking out towards the mountains, tears in her eyes. She wished she could see her brothers, but she did not know how to find them. She sighed to herself, the wind picking up, drifting the sounds of the village towards her. She could see the gallows from the window and she could see the people gathering there. That would mean Vincent would soon be going to the village to witness the hanging.

His family would finally receive justice.
 
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