Heart of the Beholder

16

SHE SMELLED LIKE A MEADOW in a far off land. A place where the flowers were always in bloom and the morning sun made the drops of dew glitter like a sea of stars. A place that never got dark. A place where one could live without fear. A place where one could be truly happy. A place that probably only existed in the imaginations of others. But for a moment, as she held on to him, it was real.

She slipped out of the safety of his arms and spun in a lovely yellow dress. He wanted to call out to her and say she was going to get wet, but he realized it had stopped raining. Her laughter was melodic and put him in a trance where he would be happy to spend his life watching her find joy in everything around her. She looked up and smiled at him, then took off running. Thane grinned as he chased after her. He laughed with her.

He ran fast, but could never quite catch up to her. Finally, she stopped under a large tree with fruit he didn’t recognize. She stood on her tiptoes and tried to reach one of the fruits. Thane reached up, picked the fruit, and handed it to her. She took a huge bite, and he laughed at the way her cheeks puffed out as she chewed.

She looked up at him and stumbled backwards, looking horrified. Thane reached up and realized he wasn’t wearing his cloak. Panic set in as he felt fur covering his face and the giant twisted horns protruding out of his head. He opened his mouth to explain, but the only thing that came out was a monstrous roar. The fruit in her hand melted into black goo, and she clutched at her throat. She fell to her knees before he could reach her, but he caught her before her head hit the ground. He cradled her as blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, and she grew cold. Suddenly, she lifted her head, but it was not her. It was Madame Rajani, cackling. “Your soul is bitter. It is like a poison that corrupts those around you,” she hissed.

Thane threw her off him and ran away from the fortune teller.

Vincent ran next to him. They were running away from a man who was yelling at them for starting his barn on fire.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Vincent called to him as they kept running. “If you tell Father it was an accident, I will do your school work for a week.”

Thane knew the truth. He had watched Vincent tip over the oil lantern on purpose. It was Vincent’s idea to sneak out and find the farmer who had refused to pay taxes the last several months. Thane thought they were just paying a personal visit to encourage the man to pay the taxes owed, but Vincent had led Thane to the barn and tipped over his oil lantern, starting a hay pile on fire. It was anything except accidental, but Thane hated school work.

“Make it a month and you have a deal,” he said. Vincent grinned mischievously.

Thane stood before his father, who was lecturing him about slacking off in his studies. “Your tutors have told me you don’t care one bit about your education. You are often caught daydreaming during your lessons. And now you haven’t done any school work for a whole month.” He spat on Thane’s face. “Why can’t you be more like Vincent, who does everything expected of him? He would make a better king than you ever could.” Vincent smirked at Thane next to the king, who pulled out a leather whip. “I think we need to resort to a different kind of punishment.”

Rage boiled in Thane’s veins. He turned away, not wanting to see the disapproving look in the king’s eyes or feel the sting of the whip on his back.

Thane was on a horse, slowly navigating a poor village. Vincent and the king were ahead of him on their own horses. A woman stumbled forward and grabbed onto Thane’s boot. “Please, Your Highness, please take pity on me and my children. We haven't eaten in days. My son has a fever, he needs a surgeon! Please!”

The woman was dirty, and most of her teeth were gone. Thane looked at his father, who gave the villagers no heed, and Vincent, who looked at the woman with disgust. He was the oldest; he was supposed to be king. Thane couldn’t let Vincent be better than him. Thane kicked the woman to the ground. “Get off me, peasant,” he sneered, and made the horse go faster before he could see the effect of his actions.

Thane picked at the food on his plate. “You need to express to him why you are upset,” his mother said, seated across from him.

“I tried. He won’t listen,” Thane said. He waved at a servant who stood against the wall. “I need something stronger than this wine immediately.”

“Right away, Your Highness.”

His mother gave him a disappointed look.

“What?” he growled.

“You say how much you hate him, yet every day, you become more like him,” she said in anger.

“You would know. You are the one who lets him walk all over you.”

“Thane,” his mother said with sadness in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll treat you better than that bastard,” Thane slurred as he stood up and tipped his chair over.

The queen stood and said, “Sit down, my son.”

“I can’t. I have to figure out how to win Father’s favor and not lose my crown to my brother, the other bastard,” Thane said as he sauntered to the door.

The servant returned with a bottle of dark amber liquid at the same moment his mother said, “I am dying, Thane.”

Thane slowly turned to face the queen. “What did you say?”

With tears in her eyes, she said, “I haven’t been feeling well, and I have had this persistent headache and my vision has been getting worse. So, the royal surgeon looked me over, and, well…” her lip trembled. “It’s not good, Thane.”

“I don’t understand,” he said with a sinking feeling in his gut.

“He doesn’t think I will make it through the winter.”

Thane’s hands began to shake. It was too much to handle, so he took the bottle from the servant and chugged it as he fled the room.

He was there at his mother’s deathbed, holding her cold, fragile hands.

“You have a promising future, my son,” she said weakly.

Thane wiped away a tear and shook his head. “Vincent is better in every way. I would be stupid to not let him be king. I am good for nothing.”

“You are more than a title. You are more than a crown.”

She took her last breath not a minute later. The royal surgeon checked her pulse and declared her death.

“You,” Thane bellowed at the surgeon, who looked petrified. “You did this! You didn’t try hard enough to save her. You killed her!” he growled as he towered over the shaking old man. “Guards, take him to the dungeon!”

The solemn man tried to plead for his freedom, as the guard dragged him out of the room.

Hot breath tickled Thane’s neck as he untangled himself from the skirts of the first woman he’d found after a rather grueling argument with his father following his mother’s funeral. The woman’s face was flush as she blew him a kiss before leaving the cramped closet they had found in the barracks. The thrill that drowned out his frustration and despair unfortunately only lasted a short time. She had promised she would return and send for him after she visited her fiancé, who incidentally happened to be the captain of his personal guard.

A maid looked up at him in horror as scalding soup seeped into his clothes. Thane felt anger and annoyance deep within himself. He yelled at the maid, and she ran away from him with her face in her hands.

A woman let out a piercing scream as she watched him crawl out of a ditch where his carriage had been run off the road by guards of the royal court. “Demon!” she screamed. The men nearby lit their torches and grabbed their weapons.

Thane ran for his life, leaving a wounded Edgar to fend for himself. The first city he came to was Willow Haven, not far from the castle he’d just left. Commoners cried out as he passed, and more men joined the hunt. Thane raced for the farmlands, where it would be less populated, but the men had horses. He tried to find refuge at the first farmhouse he came to, but the men were not far behind. They threw bricks and stones at him. He kept running. He looked frantically for a place to hide. Too soon, they had him backed up against the back wall of the house and they threw their lit torches at him. He deflected each of them until an explosion knocked him off his feet. Wood and shingles showered down on him. Half of his face felt melted, and his ears were ringing or someone was screaming—he couldn’t tell. When he looked around, there were dead men on the ground and other men fleeing the flames eating up the farmhouse. Thane looked up at the gaping hole in the side of the house. Someone moved inside. He ran into the oblivion of the night, away from the cries for help.

Thane was back in the meadow of endless flowers and next to the tree with mysterious fruit. He was on his knees with a limp body in his arms. Madame Rajani stood over him. “You did this. You are poisonous. You killed her.”

Thane sobbed as he rocked Miss Meadowbrooke’s lifeless body. “No,” he cried. “No!”

“No!” he roared as he sat up. The room was dark and silent. Thane threw the bedding off him and jumped out of bed. His bare chest was slick with sweat, and his stomach twisted with nausea. He yelled out in anguish and fell to his knees. He remembered the night he was cursed and the images on the wall. There was a girl who ate the fruit of his soul and died. Madame Rajani’s words from the nightmare clanged in his head. You did this. You are poisonous. You killed her! Thane clawed at his head to get rid of her voice and the memories he had been trying to outrun for months. They were proof he had been a monster long before he was ever cursed.

Rage shook his whole frame as he stood and ripped the curtains from their windows. He was furious with his brother for pretending to care, for using his foolishness to gain favor with their father. Thane was furious with his father and the cruel man he had been. He was furious with himself and the choices he’d made to gain the approval of the man he hated.

Thane pushed over his wardrobe, and it fell on its side with a crash, knocking over the bowl and pitcher on the dresser. He threw the door open to his paint room and flipped the table. Glass shattered. Black and red paint splattered across the floor. Sharp black claws sliced through canvases. He roared again, this time it was louder and sounded more dangerous. He sliced through the curtains and looked at his reflection in the window. He was covered in dark brown fur, his eyes and enormous twisted horns were as black as night, with sharp white fangs protruded from his mouth. His form was bigger than he remembered, and his posture was more hunched forward.

The door to the hall opened. “My lord, what—” Edgar’s voice stopped short when he saw Thane. “Mercy me,” the valet swallowed. Thane roared like a thunderstorm, and the candle Edgar was holding blew out. “My lord, let's get you to your bedchamber and—”

“No,” Thane growled. “I am too far gone.” His voice sounded like rocks being ground together.

“I do not believe so, my lord,” Edgar said with a little more gusto. “What has caused this tantrum?”

“I had a terrible realization,” Thane said, looking for something to crush in his hands. He found a glass paint jar and shattered it in his fist. Black paint seeped between his fingers like the bad fruit he had given Miss Meadowbrooke. He roared.

“Will you tell me about this terrible realization, or will you keep acting like a child who did not get what he wanted for dinner?” Edgar said in his calm tone.

Thane froze with the old, dented painter's case in his monstrous hands. He already knew what would happen if he opened it. He had tried to break the glass rose before, but whatever witchcraft or protection spell that was bound to it made it indestructible. If he tried to break it now, he would fail again, and that would just make him more furious. Thane let the case drop on a table that was still upright, then flipped the latch carefully with a single claw. He lifted the lid, and the dark room filled with magical blue light. He lifted the seemingly delicate rose out of the case and held it up as if it were a torch.

“I found her, Edgar.” Emotion cracked his grizzly voice.

“Who did you find, my lord?”

“She puts me in my place, but doesn’t make me feel like an idiot. Her presence gives me peace, even when everything is weighing down on me. Her kindness isn’t a facade; it is purely genuine. She willingly shares her time with a man who hides himself away from the world. She smiles and laughs, even when things are going terribly. Edgar, I found the one who could break my curse.” Thane slowly placed the glowing glass rose back in the case.

“How is that a terrible realization, my lord?” Edgar prodded.

The image from his nightmare of Miss Meadowbrooke choking on his poisonous fruit burned in Thane’s mind. “Because my corruption will kill her before she gets the chance to save me,” he growled.

Thane slammed the lid shut, and the room went black.