Beauty and the Beast: Rose Castle 3

In the blink of an eye, two days had passed. I discovered that not only was the Master of this castle strange… the castle itself was quite eerie. It seemed to have a life of its own. While sleeping, I could hear someone whispering softly in my ear at night, but as soon as I opened my eyes, the voices would disappear.

After a while, I became somewhat neurotic from the disturbances, and what made me even more anxious was that I had searched through the study on this floor but still couldn’t find a way to save my father…

I began to doubt whether moving into the castle was the right choice.

That day, after washing up, I was about to go to the study to continue reading the book I hadn’t finished yesterday. As soon as I opened the door, I saw an invitation letter fluttering to the ground.

It was a light gold invitation letter, emitting the scent of expensive perfume. I picked it up and, on a whim, brought it to my nose for a sniff. That day, I seemed to have smelled this scent on Lambert’s collar as well.

When I opened it, I found no salutation or pleasantries, just one sentence: “See you in the hall at seven tonight.”

There wasn’t even a signature. Holding the invitation, my mind was in a whirl. Despite two days having passed, thinking of the cold and clammy black scales on that person’s body… my heart still trembled.

I was truly afraid of him.

Stuffing the invitation under my pillow, I sat on the bed in a daze for a while. I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but those voices started again. This time, I heard them say:

“She doesn’t seem to want to see Master’s invitation…”

“Master didn’t even write a salutation or signature. Too arrogant. She must be unhappy.”

“You all don’t understand women. She must think Master isn’t sincere enough since he didn’t invite her personally. When the Master was still a prince, those women used to complain the same way!”

…

I held my forehead with a headache. Are these voices just my hallucinations?

Because of this invitation, I couldn’t focus on going to the study. I stayed in my room alone, quietly thinking about what to do tonight.

In the evening, the sky turned into a deep blue ocean, rolling up purple tides. I leaned on the sofa, anxiously reading a book, occasionally glancing at the door. Just then, the clock struck six, and there was a sudden knock on the door. I took a deep breath and opened the door, expecting to see Lambert, but instead, I saw a rose-colored long dress lying on the ground.

This was probably the most gorgeous dress I had ever seen in my life: rose-colored gauze draped over light purple satin, with diamond-like stars and olive leaf-shaped gold interwoven on the fluffy skirt. Without a whalebone hoop, the dress was supported by layers of heavy yet light white cotton fabric.

Is this… for me?

I looked at the dress for two minutes and finally couldn’t resist the temptation of the beautiful dress and brought it into the room.

There’s a saying… “You can’t refuse a gift from someone who feeds you.” If my father’s illness has nothing to do with Lambert, then I owe him a lot. I must find time to repay him in the future.

Wearing the long dress, I walked to the full-length mirror, reached behind to pull up the zipper and put on two long velvet gloves. The dress was too big, so I had to stand far away to see my full reflection.

For some reason, I thought of my long-deceased mother. The elders in the village said I looked like her, but they never mentioned what she looked like or how she died. At exactly seven o’clock, there was another knock on the door. I stood up straight, stunned. It wasn’t until the third knock that I realized I should open the door.

Opening the door, Lambert stood at the entrance. Two days had passed, and his demeanor had changed significantly. He was no longer as cold and gloomy as when we first met—of course, it could also be his disguise. He wore a black suit with gold buttons, the collar open, revealing a ruffled shirt. Seeing me, he was slightly stunned for two seconds, then turned his head away and said coldly, “Dinner is ready. Come down.”

I was a bit confused: all this trouble just to have dinner with me?

Nodding, I lifted the hem of my dress to go downstairs, but he grabbed my wrist and commanded simply, “Give me your hand.”

The corridor wall lamp was warm yellow, and this time, I saw his hand clearly. Not only was the back of his hand covered with armor-like black scales, but there was also a layer of transparent skin between his fingers, and his nails were as sharp as a lizard’s. Goosebumps rose on my back, and I comforted myself, thinking, “We’ve already kissed, so what’s there to fear about holding hands now…”

Pressing my lips together, I placed my hand in his palm as if facing death. Still so cold, so slippery, I shivered slightly. He silently tightened his grip and led me downstairs.

Entering the hall, I was stunned: fresh roses piled on the long table, white candles placed at both ends, with chilled champagne, ripe fruits, deep-sea prawns, foie gras crispy on the outside and tender inside, a huge smoked ham occupying half the table, and in the middle, a pot of creamy soup made with black truffles…

It was my first time seeing such a sumptuous dinner, and I subconsciously swallowed. Lambert walked over, pulled out a chair, and said, “Please.” Then he walked to the fireplace, sat down, crossed his legs, and calmly read a book.

I was taken aback, never having seen someone invite others to dinner like this. After thinking for a moment, I asked, “Aren’t you eating?”

“You wouldn’t want to dine with me,” he said.

“Let’s eat together…” I said, “How can I feel comfortable eating with you like this?”

He closed the book, glanced at me, and said, “Are you sure?”

“Sure.”

He casually tossed the book aside, walked over, sat down in front of me, and spread a napkin on his lap: “I hope it won’t affect your appetite.” His tone was polite.

Then, the next second, his actions shocked me: he directly picked up the half-meter-long ham and tore off a piece of meat with his teeth, chewing it expressionlessly, like a leopard biting the neck of an antelope.

I stared blankly for a long time before remembering to eat. Seeing me pick up the soup bowl, he wiped the corner of his mouth with a corner of the napkin on his lap and nodded towards the truffle soup: “If it’s convenient, serve me a bowl too.”

This commanding attitude… was quite princely. I did as he asked. When he drank the soup, he was much quieter, but after a few sips, he couldn’t help but stick out his tongue and lick it like an animal. Probably noticing my gaze, he put down the bowl and said lightly, “I was cursed by a witch. If I can’t find a woman who truly loves me, my appearance, personality, and even living habits will become more and more like an animal. She said my character was cunning, so she gave me snake scales. She thought I was cold-blooded and fickle, so she gave me lizard eyes and nails. If no one is willing to love me by the next spring, I will become a monster.”

The sudden confession shook me.

Thinking about it, he might be as desperate as I am, grasping at straws. I chose to live in a strange castle to find a way to save my father; he chose to believe the nonsense of a stranger just to grasp the hope of breaking the curse. In a way, he and I are in the same boat.

If falling in love with someone was as simple as pressing a switch, I would press it without hesitation. After all, in a lifetime, it’s impossible to love only one person. After breaking his curse, I could rightfully ask him to save my father.

Unfortunately, loving or being loved is very difficult. I didn’t know how to respond, and for a moment, the atmosphere at the dining table fell into a frozen silence. After dinner, he lowered his head, rubbing the napkin with the pads of his two fingers, seemingly deep in thought.

After a long time, he looked up, his Adam’s apple moving on his long neck covered with black scales: “I would like to ask you to dance with me.”

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