embraced her. She was now bound to the wall, her long hair pressed between her back and the stones behind her. And she could not get out of that dusty chamber in her homeland, and it seemed to her she was traveling up through layers and layers of sleep, and this dressing room about her in this cruel country had lost its substantiality.
A Prince had come into her sleeping chamber. A Prince had lowered his lips to her. But it was only Alexi kissing her, wasn't it? Alexi kissing her here?
But when she opened her eyes on that ancient bed and looked at the one who now broke her spell, she saw some bland and innocent countenance! It was not her Crown Prince. It was not Alexi. It was some pristine soul liken to her own who now stood back from her in astonishment. Brave he was, yes, brave, and without complexity!
She cried out. "No!"
But Alexi's hand was over her mouth. "Beauty, what is it?"
"Don't kiss me!" she whispered.
But when she saw the pain in his face, she opened her mouth and felt his lips sealed over it. His tongue filled her. She pressed her hips against him.
"Ah, it is you, only you..." she whispered.
"And what did you think it was? Were you dreaming?"
"It seemed for a moment all this was a dream," she confessed. But the stone was too real, his touch too real.
"And why should it be a dream? Is it such a nightmare?"
She shook her head. "You love it, all of it, you love it," she whispered in his ear. She saw his eyes linger languidly on her and then drift away. "And it seemed a dream because all the past, the real past, has lost its luster!"
But what was she saying? That in these few days she had not once longed for her homeland, she had not once longed for what her youth had been and the sleep of a hundred years had given her no wisdom?
"I love it. I loathe it," Alexi said. "I am humiliated by it, and recreated by it. And yielding means to feel all those things at once and yet to be of one mind and one spirit."
"Yes," she sighed, as though she had falsely accused him. "Wicked pain, wicked pleasure."
And he gave her his smile of approbation. "We'll be together soon again..."
"Yes..."
"...be sure of it. And until then, my darling, my love, belong to everyone."
Chapter 20
THE VILLAGE
THE NEXT few days passed as quickly for Beauty as those before them. No one discovered that she and Alexi had been together.
The following night the Prince told her she had gained his mother's approval. She would now be trained by him as his little maid, to sweep his quarters, to keep his wine cup always filled, and to perform all those duties that Alexi performed for her Highness.
And from then on Beauty would sleep in the Prince's quarters.
She found herself envied by everyone, and it was the Prince and the Prince alone who prescribed her daily punishments.
Each morning she was given to Lady Juliana for the Bridle Path. Then Beauty would serve the wine at the noon meal and woe to her if she spilt a drop of it.
Then she would sleep in the afternoons so she might be fresh to attend the Prince in the evenings. And next Festival Night she would be entered in a race of Bridle Path slaves which he expected her to win after her daily training.
All this Beauty heard out with flushes and tears, again and again stooping to kiss the Prince's boots as he gave his orders. He seemed still troubled in his love, and while the castle slept, he frequently awakened her with rough embraces. She could scarcely think of Alexi at these times, the Prince so frightened her and scrutinized her.
And when each day dawned she was brought out in her leather horseshoe boots for Lady Juliana.
Beauty was frightened but she was ready. Lady Juliana was a vision of loveliness in her crimson riding dress, and Beauty ran fast on the soft gravel path, the sun often causing her to squint as it flashed in the overhanging trees, and she was weeping when it was finished.
Then she and Lady Juliana would be alone together in the garden. Lady Juliana carried a leather strap, but seldom did she use it, and the garden was soothing to Beauty. They would sit down on the grass, Lady Juliana's skirts a wreath of embroidered silk about her,