Beauty and the Beast: Rose Castle 4

“…I can’t dance.”

He frowned, “You can’t dance at all?”

“No.” I blushed, “I come from the countryside. My father is a carpenter, and I didn’t go to school for many years. My mother… no one told me who my mother was, but I think her family background was similar to my father’s.”

I thought he would mock my background and ignorance, but instead, he lowered his head and thought for a moment. Then he looked up and said, “None of that matters. If you can’t dance, I can teach you. The question is, are you willing to dance with me?”

At that moment, I noticed his high brow bones and the close proximity of his eyebrows and eye sockets. When he looked at someone intently, there was a strong sense of aggression, making it impossible to resist his gaze and questions.

I admit that at that moment, I ignored the frightening scales on his face and was captivated by his beautiful and deep eyes.

“I am willing.” It’s just dancing, after all.

“Come with me.” He threw the napkin onto the plate, stood up, and extended a hand towards me.

Perhaps it was because of his honesty or perhaps knowing that he was essentially human that this time, I no longer felt the same aversion and resistance as before.

I took his hand.

He led me to the castle’s sky garden. The sky was still covered with leaden clouds, but the surroundings were filled with blooming flowers, like a sea of stars, scattered with deep red, tender yellow, light purple, and pure white single-petal flowers. Above us was a broken stone bridge covered in slimy moss, with waterfall-like night mist pouring down from it. In front of the garden was a viewing platform, from where one could see the distant hazy mountains.

“…It’s so beautiful.” I sincerely praised.

He walked to the viewing platform, leaned on the railing, and said lightly, “If you think that the end of the road is a kind of beauty.”

I didn’t expect him to understand it that way. I shook my head, about to explain, but he pressed a finger to his lips and snapped his fingers with the other hand.

Something magical happened. From some corner came the sound of a harpsichord and violin ensemble. Combined with the surrounding scenery, it was like a scene from a fairy tale. I tried to discern the source of the music, lifting my skirt and wanting to explore the depths of the garden.

Lambert came over and clasped my wrist.

Perhaps I had gotten used to the warmth of his palm; his skin no longer felt so cold and abrupt. The scent of man and beast surrounded me simultaneously. My heart was racing. His low and cold voice sounded in my ear, “Rosalind.”

My palms inexplicably began to sweat, but it wasn’t cold sweat. I stiffly responded, “Lambert.”

“Raise your hand like this.” He raised one hand, his movements smooth and elegant. Before I could follow suit, he took my hand, spreading my fingers one by one, pressing them against his palm. His movements were so graceful, yet his hand was as ugly and frightening as a reptile. As I watched his hand pressed against my palm, a strange feeling surged in my heart.

“Look at me.” He ordered softly, “Spin around me.”

Strange, so strange.

Maybe because it was my first time dancing, I found that dancing with a man was even more intimate than kissing. I wondered how those ladies who were passionate about social dancing managed to dance with strangers without changing their expressions.

After spinning, he clasped my hands, manipulating my movements like a puppet. My mind was blank, and I followed his movements instinctively.

Soon, the dance ended. Just then, night fell. He lowered his eyes, gazing into mine, and suddenly said, “I have danced with many women.”

This sentence was like a bucket of cold water, waking me up. What did he mean? Was he trying to tell me how popular he used to be? Or was he saying that his former status was so high and unattainable that a country girl like me shouldn’t even dream about it… My mind was in a mess.

Finally, I thought somewhat angrily. If it weren’t for sympathizing with his plight and wanting to help break his curse, I wouldn’t have danced with him at all.

However, he lightly parted his lips and said, “But none of them compare to this dance with you.”

I was stunned, and all the inexplicable, complex, and chaotic emotions disappeared without a trace.

…Why did he say that to me?

Lambert released my hands, stepped back two steps, placed one hand behind his back and the other on his right chest, and bowed gracefully, saying softly, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Rosa. Whether the curse can be broken or not, I am grateful that you reminded me of what it was like to be human.”

This sentence was like a burning coal, scorching my ears and cheeks. I hadn’t expected him to say that at all, and I was at a loss. He seemed to notice my embarrassment, nodded in farewell, turned, and left, leaving me alone. It was only then that I saw in him the shadow of what he had once been as a prince. He was so polite and noble; even though his appearance had become monstrous, I could still imagine his once-spirited and dashing demeanor.

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Lying in bed, I held my forehead, my mind filled with thoughts of my seriously ill father. After a while, Lambert’s golden eyes and black-scaled fingers appeared in my mind…

That ugly hand had once pressed against my palm, clasped my fingers, and held my lower back… No, I couldn’t think about it anymore. I needed to focus on how to save my father. A voice inside me said: Instead of wandering aimlessly around the castle looking for a way to save your father, why not ask Lambert directly if he can save him?

From the past two days of interaction, he didn’t seem like a cold-hearted villain. As long as I asked, he would surely save my father. I didn’t know where this confidence came from, but I was certain he would help.

But… would he misunderstand my intentions in approaching him?

My mind was in complete chaos. Wasn’t my initial approach to him driven by ulterior motives?

Enough, I’ve wasted enough time in the castle. Tomorrow, I’ll lay it all out for him.

I hope he can save my father, and I hope he can understand my predicament. And I hope… no, let’s save my father first. I blew out the candle, closed my eyes, and forced myself to sleep.

The next morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, I heard unusual noises from downstairs. The soundproofing of this castle was excellent; with the windows closed, you couldn’t even hear thunder or rain. I didn’t know what was happening downstairs to make such a loud noise. I grabbed a cloak, walked to the door, and opened it a crack.

A clear and pleasant male voice rang out, “It’s rare to see you in the hall, brother.”

After a moment, there was a loud laugh, “You’re actually reading? And it’s a romance novel by a female author. Do you still hope that a woman will come to save you?”

It was Ulysses’ voice. In response to his taunt, Lambert said only one word: “Leave.”

“Your sad appearance is my greatest pleasure before I ascend the throne. How could I give up this hobby? Besides, I need to keep an eye on you in case you decide to end it all one day.”

I took off my shoes, pushed open the door, and walked barefoot to a place where they couldn’t see me, looking downstairs. Ulysses was still dressed in all white, even his sword at his waist was white. He sat on the long table, arms crossed, one leg resting on a chair. In contrast, Lambert’s posture was much more elegant. He remained in the recliner by the fireplace, legs crossed, wearing a gold-framed monocle, looking indifferently at the book in his hand. If you ignored his sharp nails and black scales, he was definitely a more cultured gentleman than Ulysses.

“You can leave. I won’t end my life,” Lambert said.

Ulysses snorted, “When you become more and more like a beast, I don’t believe you won’t have thoughts of ending it all…”

At this point, he suddenly frowned, “No, someone has been here, haven’t they?”