The Servants and the Beast Read online

  The Servants and the Beast

  In which the ones who saw it all tell the true tale of the Beast

  Karen Blakely

  R. A. Gates

  Kelly Haworth

  Jenniffer Lee

  Cheryl Mahoney

  Copyright © 2019, all rights reserved. Each author retains rights to their chapters as designated. Please be aware, if any portion of these words is misappropriated, the Good Fairy will come to show you the error of your ways.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68012-308-1

  ISBN-10: 1-68012-308-4

  First Edition

  This book is a work of fiction. Resemblance to any persons or household objects, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art by : Wynter Designs https://www.facebook.com/groups/137242070277900/

  Table of Contents

  1. The Good Fairy

  2. Meanwhile, Elsewhere in the Castle…

  3. A Young Lady Arrives

  4. Painting the Aftermath

  5. Another Young Lady Arrives

  6. Surely the Next One…

  7. Yet Another Young Lady Arrives

  8. This Can’t Continue!

  9. Beau

  10. …And They All Lived Happily Ever After

  11. Cast of Characters

  12. Acknowledgements

  13. About the Authors

  Chapter One:

  The Good Fairy

  In which the Prince is very rude to the very wrong person

  H

  e really should not have been rude. Kind-hearted as I was, a Good Fairy dedicated to the highest principles of Goodness and Niceness, I normally tried to rise above that sort of thing. But some rudeness simply could not be borne–for the good of the rude person, naturally. And I always, always acted for the good of others. I was sure he’d thank me someday.

  The whole little affair began on a snowy, blowy night. Just the sort of night for cozying up to a nice cup of tea, for petting an adorable pink kitten, or for wandering about in the snow disguised as an old crone, Testing Souls.

  I pulled my carefully tattered gray cloak around me (so much goes into tattering a cloak just so, for that truly decrepit look—it’s an art form) and shuffled up the long walk toward the main doors of the looming castle. I prided myself on my cronish shuffle. And I never went to a castle’s backdoor. You didn’t meet any princes that way, and I obviously had no time to waste on the souls of common folk. They just didn’t have that royal quality.

  I knocked on the castle doors, giving it a touch of magic to make the sound boom impressively through the building. That sort of thing ought to warn a person, but somehow it never did. While I waited for an answer, I checked to make sure my shimmering sparkles weren’t spilling out of my cloak. They were piling up, but still hidden away for now.

  At last the door swung open to a butler who, for a moment, looked quite regal and exceedingly proper in his brocaded waistcoat and elegant jacket. Then he saw me and frowned. “If you are looking for a hot meal, I can direct you to the kitchen entrance.”

  “Oh no, dearie, no!” I said, my voice high-pitched and quavering. For good measure, I added in my very best cackle. It was quite good. “I’m here to see your prince! I have a gift for him.”

  The butler’s frown deepened. “Do you have an appointment?” he asked, in that tone of voice that indicated he was very sure I didn’t.

  “Yes, indeed,” I said, nodding briskly. “Every lost soul has an appointment with their royal guardian on a cold night like this.” This wasn’t going to get me far with the butler, so I pushed past him. This, too, required just the right art. He made a grab for my cloak as I passed, but a subtle bit of magic whisked it out of his way.

  “Now then,” I said once I was inside. I shook snow off my cloak and looked over the two footmen standing in the hallway—both quite common fellows, one with long stringy hair and the other young, with freckles and big eyes. I did like how impressed common folk get. As they should.

  I pointed a long bony finger at the freckled footman. “Where can I find your prince?”

  He stammered for a moment, then blurted, “…in the ballroom?”

  “Oh, is there a party? I do love parties!” I exclaimed, clasping my hands together. I didn’t need directions to the ballroom. I had been to this castle before, if a few generations previous. I set off, ignoring the futile protests of the butler behind me.

  I turned a corner, and nearly collided with a weeping woman standing in the hallway with a big armful of books. What a perfectly ridiculous place to stand weeping. I attempted to continue my cronish shuffle past without paying her any further attention.

  She blinked, staring at me. “Who…?” she began.

  “Business with the Prince, dearie!” I said with another cackle.

  “He’s not in a good mood,” she murmured.

  Well, perhaps he wasn’t in a good mood for weeping women. I never indulged in such nonsense. I walked on, letting no other servants I passed deter me from my mission. Most ignored me as I ignored them. I turned another corner and went past the library, glancing through the door just long enough to see a man balanced at the top of a sliding ladder, straightening a portrait, while a dark-haired young woman steadied the ladder below. How nice to see servants performing a useful function. A good sign.

  It was not so good a sign when I encountered another footman, this one quite stocky, deep in the castle and bolder than the two by the front door. He dared to step forward and reach for my arm. “Aren’t you lost?”

  “Business with the Prince,” I said again, more firmly, and waved him off, putting magic behind the gesture. He stumbled backwards and clumsily crashed into a suit of armor, sending it falling to pieces in a very unpleasant clatter. I sniffed my disapproval and skirted around him.

  I could hear music playing somewhere through the halls, likely a piano, but it didn’t seem to be from the direction of the ballroom. I couldn’t imagine why someone would be playing a piano in a room away from a party. Another poor sign about the state of affairs in this castle.

  And sure enough, when I arrived in the ballroom I saw no signs of a party. The Prince was in there, surrounded by any number of swords and axes and things, swinging away at ugly padded practice dummies. It was all so uncouth and did not bode well.

  “Helloooo, dearie!” I called as I descended the sweeping stairs. “I’ve come with a gift for you.”

  The Prince stopped waving his sword and leaned on it instead, its point digging crudely into the polished wooden floor. He stared at me with a contemptuous curl of his lip. “Who the devil are you? How did you get in?”

  “Oh, I go where I like,” I said. “Now, if you offer me food and shelter and ask nicely, I’ll give you a wonderful reward.” My rewards really were wonderful. I prided myself on them too. I gave enchanted cloaks, magical palaces, dresses that shine like the sun, talking goats…all the things that a truly proper prince or princess needed.

  The Prince wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of one arm, pushing back a flop of matted dark hair. It was cold outside but flames were roaring in the large fireplace along one wall, and he had evidently been flailing about with weapons for some time. “I have no time to waste on ridiculous old hags. Now go away and stop bothering me.”

  I also prided myself on my curses, for severity and importance of the moral lessons involved. And this was not going well. I shook my finger at him. “You are not being polite. If you apologize at once, I may forgive you. But you have already forfeited the chance at one of my very nicest gifts.”

  “I told you to go away,” he growled, face contorting into a glare. “You won’t like it if I have to say it again.” He
picked up an ax, and turned back to his padded dummy.

  “I’m warning you,” I said, because let no one say that I was not very fair and generous.

  “And I warned you—now get out of here, you ugly old woman!” the Prince thundered, and this time when he hoisted the ax higher, he didn’t seem to be aiming it towards the dummy.

  I shook my head in sorrow. I was always so sad to see someone be this foolish. “That was not the correct response.”

  And then I flung my arms out, cloak bursting open in a great spray of pent-up gold and pink sparkles. In the center of the cloud I transformed into my true self, wearing my best pink dress and my favorite pink wings.

  The Prince stumbled backward, eyes widening. “Wha—what are you?”

  “I,” I said grandly, “am a Good Fairy.”

  His eyes got even bigger, face twisting into horror. Or maybe respectful awe. Yes, that was much more likely. “Oh no.”

  It was a good sign to see such immediate remorse for his rudeness, and I thought there might be hope for him after all. With the right corrective action. “You have shown me your true self,” I said severely, “and you did not prove worthy of my gifts. Instead—”

  He fell to his knees, face white. “No, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize—I didn’t mean—”

  “It is too late,” I said with a wave of one hand, sending another artful spray of sparkles across the room. “But do not worry. I am a Good Fairy, and I am dedicated to serving others. I’m going to help you!”

  “Please,” he said in strangled tones, “please, don’t.”

  I disregarded this. He was unworthy of my gifts, but not of my lessons. Besides, gold sparkles were already shooting out of my hands, swirling around the kneeling Prince. He covered his face as the storm of sparkles knocked him backwards to sprawl on the floor. In seconds, fur was sprouting between his fingers—and everywhere else too, while his body grew to an impressive seven feet with proportioned shoulders and a very nice tail.

  “What are you doing to me?” he shouted, as magnificent horns sprouted from his forehead.

  The horns were the last step. I surveyed him critically. Big, furry, a bit scary but not entirely vicious in appearance. Perfect. “I turned you into a Beast,” I explained.

  “Change me back!” he roared, voice deepened to a suitable pitch for a Beast, as he staggered to his feet and took a step toward me.

  “Quite impossible,” I said, rising up into the air. I wouldn’t want him to make matters worse by doing something drastic. “A Beast you are, and a Beast you will remain, until you learn to see past appearances and find True Love. You may thank me now.”

  He stared at me for a few seconds, then with an inarticulate growl he took a swipe at me with his new claws.

  Of course he missed, but I rose a bit farther anyway, a drift of gold and pink sparkles below my feet. “Or you may thank me later,” I amended. People were so slow to understand how I benefited them. He’d work it out eventually. “I believe my work here is done for now.”

  Then I paused, cocked my head slightly, and said, “But of course, no one becomes a nasty brute all by himself. People haven’t taught you very well, have they?”

  “If I catch you, you hideous, horrible—”

  “Yes, yes,” I said soothingly, waggled my fingers, and sent a wave of magic rocking through the castle. This whole beastly affair might well go on for decades, and it wouldn’t do for all the servants to get old and die in the meantime. Much better to transform them into shapes that would still be useful, but keep them going as needed. And no doubt they’d learn something too. I do love it when I can spread good lessons to an entire castle.

  I floated out of the ballroom where the Prince was continuing to bellow, and flew toward the front hall. I could feel my spell spreading as I went, and I smiled as I watched it take effect.

  There was that rude footman who had tried to stop me earlier—he was attempting to reassemble the suit of armor he’d so awkwardly knocked over. When my magic reached him he gave a shudder, and a pink glow surrounded him as he thinned, grew transparent, and dissolved into the armor. A moment later the armor shook its helmet and took an uncertain step forward.

  The library—the man in the painting was now leaning out, demanding explanations, while the ladder below him rocked in confused agitation.

  And here was that weeping woman, looking around her in alarm as she heard outcries and exclamations around the castle. She stared at me as I approached, backing up and bumping into a low bookcase set against the wall.

  “What is happening?” she asked in frightened tones.

  “No need to be upset,” I said soothingly. “It’s just a curse. And it will all be so much better for everyone in the end!”

  I couldn’t tell if she was paying attention to my words, as a pink glow overtook her at that moment. An instant more and she had been absorbed into the bookcase, her dropped books slotting neatly into place on the shelves. How very tidy.

  I could feel that my magic had reached nearly all the castle by now, just as I neared the front doors. I was in time to see the stringy-haired footman, busily mopping up puddles in the hallway, merge with his mop, while the butler was swallowed up by one of the armchairs lining the hall.

  The freckled footman who had been so impressed by me gave a startled cry and dived behind the coat rack. As though that would stop my magic, silly man. But perhaps he’d like being a coat rack. It was certainly more durable than being a fragile human.

  I shook off a few sparkles, which sprinkled over the floor of the hall and gave it a much brighter aspect. The sparkles would multiply in my absence, reminding everyone of the gravity of the situation they had regrettably gotten themselves into. Then I gave a cheery wave to the coat rack, armchair and mop, opened the front doors with another gesture of my hand, and flew off into the stormy night.

  Such a productive evening. I felt very good about this.

  Chapter Two:

  Meanwhile, Elsewhere in the Castle…

  In which the plans of the pianist, the artist, and the scribe are buried by dust

  M

  aneuvering through the large and desolate castle, I heard a resounding knock at the front door. I took pause long enough to hear an old woman cackle a need to see the Prince himself. Perhaps I could have waited, but I left Theodore to handle that proper mess and moved on. There was simply no time left to waste.

  Composing symphonies was my life; it breathed through me with great purpose. But, even with my expertise, the Prince had twisted my teaching over the last decade to that of his own desires, which only pushed me to find work elsewhere. Now, everything was ready for my departure, and I could never leave my beloved Rebecca behind.

  Stopping in front of the golden mirror in the hall, I straightened my chestnut hair and shifted my blue coat and white ascot. Finally, I checked the quality of my straight toothed smile; all was in order for a night of proper wooing. After years of quiet flirting, I knew Rebecca fancied me, but did she love me? The wind howled outside the stone walls and I hesitated--it was snowing and freezing, not exactly the best time to leave a warm castle. But I had made all the proper arrangements and by morning I would be a new man with the woman who would run away with me. Well, if she agreed.

  I found Darwin, the castle guard and my only confidant, near the entrance on the way to the study. He nodded as he left his post and followed me until I found her. Darwin knew of my love for Rebecca, and had thus promised to keep watch outside the doorway, until the Prince required him otherwise.

  Rebecca sat in the late Queen’s study watching the evening snowfall. The frayed snow dropped through the gilded light beyond the petulant clouds, and she watched it with the eyes of a master.

  She had an easel with her, an old one that she said creaked with inspiration, and her paints were organized neatly on a table beside her. Instead of canvas, Rebecca used a flat board with wrinkled parchment attached for her current project, which was outlined lightly in pencil.<
br />
  Rebecca’s right hand cradled a thick wooden brush and she stretched, which allowed her long chestnut braid to slip over her shoulder and alongside of her left breast. Her gown was simple and elegant, a shade of pale blue against the soft bronze of her skin.

  Rebecca leaned over and began her paint selection as I approached. “My lady, begging your pardon. But, might I show you something?”

  She turned and smiled as her eyes, dark and rich, met my own. She set down her brush and said, “What a nice surprise, Monsieur Stein!”

  The joy on her face fed the longing in my heart. I bowed at the waist. “Maximus, please.” Rising, I brought the canvas from behind my back. “Would you perhaps paint on this?”

  Her eyes widened as she saw the treasure in my hands, “Oh, that canvas is lovely!”

  “Do you like it?” I could provide these for her now with my new employment, but would it be enough?

  Her mouth formed an adorable circle before she covered it lightly with her skilled hands. “This is wonderful, Monsieur.”

  I leaned forward and placed the canvas gingerly in front of the parchment on her easel—the air was immediately sweeter with the scent of her perfume, a rose blend. I took her hand in mine and without thinking I raised her hand to my lips and kissed her smooth skin before looking her in the eyes. “My lady, you must know by now my love for you.”

  Rebecca’s warm eyes darted toward the entrance of the study as I continued, “He is training in the ballroom at the present.” I smirked a bit as the cloaked woman crossed my mind. “I’m fairly certain Theodore might have a distraction for the Prince to buy us a little more time. We are entirely private.”

  She relaxed but removed her hand all the same. “Monsieur—”