Wanderlust Beastkin, Beauty and the Beastkin

Nancy’s Perspective

I found myself in a vast chamber, its walls lined with boxes and makeshift beds beside them. If you could even call them beds, considering they were merely heaps of dried hay crammed into tattered leather sacks that had clearly seen better days.

The room was constructed of cold stone, and the floor matched, sending chills through the flimsy, worn leather slippers I wore. They had two straps that we tied around our feet like ballerina shoes, but they were brown, rough, and scraped against my skin with every step. The uneven ground poked at my feet through the thin soles, making each movement a challenge. I was dressed in a plain brown robe, devoid of any embellishments; the fabric was just as scratchy as the shoes, and they had stripped me of my previous clothing, deeming it too fine for someone in my position as a laundry slave.

My thoughts were consumed by Beth, constantly wondering about her fate and if her circumstances were any better than mine. I truly hoped they were; Beth had always been the good one, deserving of kindness and fortune, yet she often found herself in trouble because of us.

I tossed a delicate piece crafted from soft silk into the enormous stone tub I had recently filled with water. My arms ached from the effort of maneuvering this massive vessel, and now I faced the daunting task of handwashing the heap of laundry that had been carelessly tossed into the box next to my bed. Yes, that box wasn’t meant for personal use; it was a repository for everyone else’s dirty clothes. So, I was constantly surrounded by the stench of unwashed garments. With a groan, I began to rub crushed soap leaves and mint together, creating a peculiar lather that, while effective, paled in comparison to modern soap. I despised this place and would have gladly set it ablaze if given the opportunity.

As I scrubbed and worked my way deeper into the box, I stumbled upon something I thought I’d never see again—my own clothes from my previous life. They had ended up in my washing tub because someone else had worn them, and now I was expected to clean them. The maid responsible for distributing the dirty laundry must have done this intentionally; such a coincidence seemed improbable among all the girls here unless they were washing them constantly. Was it a cruel joke or merely a reminder? It was difficult to discern in this environment.

I found myself staring at the light blue dress that matched my eyes, made from an incredibly soft cotton blend. As I touched it, memories of my former life flooded back, memories that felt like they belonged to another era. My hands were now calloused, my hair a tangled mess of frizz, and I was perpetually dirty, my skin raw from the harsh fabric I had been forced to wear. Now, my skin resembled leather, just like the other girls here.

My initial reaction upon touching my old dress was a sense of unworthiness. When did I start feeling this way? When did their hurtful words begin to seep into my mind? I had been manipulated all along, and it took confronting my own dress to see it clearly. How could something that belonged to me feel too precious, while it was deemed acceptable for a thief to flaunt?

As I gazed at my dress, a whirlwind of thoughts raced through my mind—tearing it apart, staining it, and countless other rebellious ideas. But I knew that any trouble would ultimately circle back to me, and Beth had advised me to stay low. There was also the possibility that the thief didn’t even realize the dress was stolen. I felt a mix of rage and gratitude as I washed it, recognizing that this moment had unveiled the truth: they had been toying with my mind all along, and it had worked. One day, I would have my revenge on that old woman who bought us, the horrible woman in charge of the laundry, the scorpion who ensnared us, and the king who ruled over this miserable place.

Beth’s Perspective

"What’s your opinion?"

"I wonder, your Majesty, what significance my thoughts hold? I am merely a humble servant, after all," I said, as I stood beside his desk. Thankfully, there were no jars of purple eyes in sight, though I did notice two rooms nearby that were securely locked, and I had been instructed to keep out. One of them appeared to be his bathroom, while the other remained a mystery to me, and I found myself quite curious about its contents. It was rather frustrating, as no one was allowed to enter that room for cleaning. I had never witnessed him entering it, but the maids mentioned that he might visit it at night, though I couldn’t ascertain the truth of that claim. My curiosity is quite strong, yet I realize it’s not my place to pry, especially since I have other duties that require my attention.

He wore an unusual frown, followed by a soft sigh that seemed to linger in the air. When he turned to face me, his sapphire eyes locked onto mine, and he said, "Your opinion means a lot to me."

I sensed his inner turmoil, the way he hesitated before reaching out to gently caress my cheek, as if he feared I might break at any moment. I reminded myself that pulling away would be disrespectful to the emperor, but honestly, that wasn’t the only reason I stayed still.

His hand was surprisingly warm, and though it bore the roughness of callouses from swordplay, I knew that in high society, it was deemed impolite to shift into one’s beast form without cause. This unwritten rule worked in my favor, as it was also considered inappropriate to inquire about someone’s beast form unless one was contemplating a deeper connection.

His fingers grazed the side of my face, igniting a flurry of sparks that made me frown in confusion. What was happening? His eyes widened, and I could see the frustration etched on his features as he took me in. Suddenly, he raked his hand through his hair, stood up abruptly, and knocked his chair over, sending it skidding across the room to crash against the wall. The loud noise startled the guards outside, who rushed in without hesitation.

"Your Majesty, is everything alright?!" one of the guards called out, his voice filled with concern. He was a bit older, with gray wings and dark gray hair and eyes. His face bore both laugh lines and frown lines, hinting at a life filled with both joy and worry.

"Jax, please make the maids aware that Beth will now be Precious Consort Elizabeth and will no longer be a slave nor my assistant."

"Your Majesty, I must humbly express that such an elevation in rank is truly without precedent."

"I’m well aware," he said and walked out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

"Excuse me! Am I not allowed to voice my opinion here?" I asked, feeling a mix of surprise and frustration.

He stopped briefly, his posture tightening. "No."

Then, without another word, he resumed his stride, as if our exchange had never happened, exuding an unwavering confidence that everyone would simply follow his commands, and indeed, they would.

"Please come with me," Jax said, his tone oddly courteous, a kind of politeness that felt unfamiliar to me.

"And if I refuse?"

"It would be unfortunate if we found ourselves in a position where we must envelop you in a cloth, much like a cocoon, and transport you. Such an act would lack dignity, and we would rather avoid that scenario, if at all possible."

"I understand now that refusing would be futile. Very well then. Please convey to His Majesty my eagerness to engage in a conversation with him at his earliest convenience. Please, lead the way.

As I exited the room, I was flanked by four guards, feeling a bit out of place as I passed by other women who paused in their activities to stare at me with wide eyes. They quickly looked away, as if my predicament might somehow be contagious. Little did they know, they were free to speculate as much as they liked, provided they kept their voices down and didn’t disturb anyone of higher rank.

I navigated through unfamiliar corridors, taking turns in directions I had never explored before, until we reached some grand double doors that led me outside once more. The sunlight enveloped me, and for the first time in a while, I breathed in fresh air that wasn’t laced with incense. The sky stretched above me, a vast expanse of light blue adorned with fluffy white clouds that made me long for a day of cloud-watching with my two closest friends.

Suddenly, I felt a gentle touch on my arm as a maid hurried over, draping a long, light green cloak around me and pulling the hood over my head. The fabric was thin and airy, yet it felt quite comfortable and settled perfectly on me. She wore soft white gloves and a lovely green and white empire waist dress, tied with a delicate bow at her waist. As she handed black leather gloves to the guards, they quickly donned them.

"What’s the purpose of all these gloves?"

Coming Next Time: A Defining Moment