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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

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Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

The view of the country manor used to bring a smile to your face. In the past, you would take off in a run in order to meet it quicker. Its walls were like widespread arms waiting for you to enter its embrace. The garden outside had been your enchanted forest. The rabbits and deer that occasionally wandered in were your friends.

But the wonders of the home that had once been your shelter were no longer as welcoming as before. You wanted to turn back, to make your way through the thick trees, finding that blasted castle, and demanding answers from Zitao.

Why had he thrown you out? Why had he turned such a sweet moment bitter? You knew now that you could never give your heart to Gao. It had already been stolen by another. And even if you wanted it back, it wasn’t possible. You had left it behind in the forest to forever wander the halls in hope of the man in the mask coming for you.

But he wouldn’t be coming for you. As Mr. Chan brought the carriage to a stop down the road, you hopped down from your seat, careful to keep the hood of your cloak over your head. Mr. Chan stepped down as well. From the other side of the carriage, he pulled out two large bags and handed them to you. Odd. You didn’t remember having that much with you on your first trip.

“Take care, young miss.”

You were a bit shocked. You hadn’t heard Mr. Chan speak very much, especially directly to you. His tone implied a sense of protectiveness, a fatherly affection you wouldn’t have expected from him. There was still an awkwardness as he patted your shoulder and stepped back up into the carriage to ride away in the opposite direction that you would walk, but you were thankful for him, just as you were thankful for Mrs. Chan.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped tightly to the straps the bags, one in each hand, and headed for the house.

You heard Cosette yelling before you saw her.

“(Y/n) is back! She’s here! She’s back!”

By the time you reached the door, it swung open to reveal your entire family trying to squeeze through the limited space. Lu made it through first. He threw his arms around you, giving you the type of hug that you hadn’t received from since you were a child. The embraced caused you to drop the bags and return the affection with equal force. Your father came next as he squeezed between you and Lu to take your face in his hands.

“(Y/n). My (y/n). I thought I would never see you again.” His eyes were glossing over. You hadn’t seen him cry in years – since you were small – and your own heart was breaking for the pain you had put him through. While you were enjoying yourself with Zitao and avoiding the confrontation of your possible engagement, he was falling apart.

“I’m so sorry.” You sniffed back your own tears as you pressed your face into his chest. The hood of your cloak fell to your shoulders, exposing yourself to the cold.

You felt his chest heave with a sigh as he patted the back of your head. “Where did you go?”

“Yes!” Cosette screeched from the doorway. “Where did you go? Why did you run away and leave us to starve!”

You swallowed back a scoff as you stepped back. They would have hardly starved if you hadn’t come back. “I didn’t run away. The storm hit sooner than expected. The carriage fell into a ravine. I don’t know what happened to the driver. The horse wasn’t moving so I tried to get back here, but I passed out.”

“How did you survive?” Lu asked.

“I-” You bit down on your lower lip. For some reason, you were reluctant to share the truth. Would they even believe you? They rolled their eyes at the village stories as much as you had before. Being from the city, stories like that were considered beneath their intelligence. “I was found by an old woman who lives in a cottage in the forest. I was sick for a long time, but she nursed me back to health. It took several weeks before my strength came back.”

“And I’m so glad that you did,” your father smiled at you.

“As am I.”

Your eyes went wide as Gao stepped out of the home. He looked different from the last time you saw him. He stood tall, carrying around this aura of importance. His ivory jacket was lined with golden embroidery. His black hair was pulled back and tied with a matching ribbon. There was something about him that gave the impression he was always ready for his portrait to be painted. You had to stop yourself from taking a step away from him as he approached you, grabbed your hand, and placed a kiss on your fingers. The contact made your skin crawl. It was only pure will power that kept you from yanking your hand away and wiping the kiss away on your skirts. There wasn’t any logic beyond your response. Gao had never been unkind to you or anyone else in your presence. Perhaps it was merely the fact that he had wanted to trade helping your father for you being his wife.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Gao,” you whispered.

“Let’s get you inside and near a fire,” he replied with a smile.

“Yes, let's get you inside,” your father agreed. He was about to guide you inside when Gao placed his hand on the small of your back and led you inside instead. Lu picked up your bags and followed suit.

Gao sat you down on the couch and motioned for Claudette to add more wood to the fire. You weren’t that cold, but you didn’t protest. Lu disappeared upstairs with your bags before returning and taking a seat next to you. His eyes flickered in an unsure manner towards Gao. Your father took his usual spot in the armchair to your left, leaving the other side of you open for Gao. Cosette did not seem put out by the lack of propriety for her. In fact, she didn’t seem concerned with the conversation at all. She slowly walked around the room, getting closer to the stairs, but you hardly paid attention. Gao’s closeness was taking up your focus.

“Was the old woman kind to you?” Gao clasped a hand around your own. You quickly withdrew your fingers, hiding them in the folds of your skirt so he couldn’t try it again.

“Yes,” you nodded. “She was more than kind.” Mrs. Chan was motherly towards you. She made you laugh and feel comfortable. She also gave you the tools to open your heart to Zitao. She told you of his past. Because of her, you stopped seeing him as a terrifying figure in the shadows and began to discover the human hidden under the mask. You were sure she had a hand in his changed attitude towards you as well.

“You sound almost… sad to have left?” Lu said.

You blinked at your brother. “I-” You swallowed. “I know I will miss her. She’s my friend.”

“Of course, she would be.” Your father smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Gao cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to himself. “(y/n), I know you’ve been through a lot. However, I would like to form-”

“Look! Look at me!”

Cosette came running down the stairs, the force of her hurry causing her hair to flurry behind her. She was dressed in a silver gown with multiple layers, embroidered with green leaves that seemed to dance in the light. Jewels hung from her neck and wrists, sparkling on her fingers, and dangling from her ears. A small circlet sat on top of her head. Where did she get all of that?

As she came to a stop in the living, standing in the middle in the room so all could see her, she sneered in your direction. “Look! Now I can be as flighty and selfish as (y/n)! Her secret lover must be richer than Gao to give her all of this!”

You gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your bags were filled with more jewels and dresses like this!” Cosette held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Admit it. You didn’t get caught in the storm. And you certainly weren’t staying in a cottage, being looked after by an old woman. You went to see your lover! That’s what you were actually doing on all your walks, wasn’t it?”

Everyone was staring at you. Eyes were wide and mouths slightly agape. Your breath quickened. You thought it strange this morning that you were being sent away with two bags, but you were too upset over Zitao’s words to you and throwing you away to try to understand the possible reason. This only added to your confusion. Did Mrs. Chan pack those valuables to give you leverage against the marriage? Or did Zitao have it done since he felt sorry for you? You could feel the tears welling up behind your eyes as the confusion tore at your heart.

“I don’t have a lover,” you contended in a meek voice. You weren’t sure if any of them believed you, especially since you kept your eyes trained down on the floor. Streaks bounced off weakly off the wood in the sunlight. It wasn’t as reflective as when you left. Someone would have to clean it better.

“Then how do you explain the gifts?” Lu was frowning at you, but it was cast over with a look of concern and confusion. He wasn’t accusatory, simply wanting an explanation.

You shrugged. “I can’t.”

Gao stood up from the couch. Hands behind his back, he walked over to the window that overlooked the front garden and stared passed the glass. Perhaps you should have been feeling guilty, wondering what was going through Gao’s mind at the moment. But he was the least of your concern. It was your father’s judgement that worried you the most. Would he believe your half-truths?

Because you didn’t have a “lover”. You had someone who had stolen your heart and then shoved you away. You had fallen in love with Zitao. He had kissed you and made you feel warm but nothing beyond that. It had ended before it had truly begun.

No. You couldn’t accept the goodbye. Not in this way. You wouldn’t accept that he simply didn’t care for you. There were layers to him that you hadn’t reached. You refused to let go. Not yet.

“If (y/n) says that it wasn’t a lover then I believe her,” your father stated. You let out the air you had been holding in your lungs, the tension in your shoulders rolling away. “Perhaps this old woman is the heir of an old family who simply prefers to be away from others and felt pity for you. We can certainly sell some of the wares to keep our income.” His eyes flickered over to Gao’s back, which did not go unnoticed by your sister.

“Sell them?” Cosette scoffed. “And when that runs out, then what? We need you to get back on your feet, Father! Have you be respectable again!”

Knowing exactly what she was implying your father said, “It is still (y/n)’s choice. That has not changed.”

Without prompt, Gao turned swiftly away from the window. “I feel that this is a matter that should be discussed between the family. I’ll go back to the inn. Until tomorrow.” He bowed, hands still behind him, and left.

It was silence for a minute or two. You wanted someone to speak – anyone. Even Cosette’s screaming would be more tolerable than this pressing quiet. You would break it yourself if you had any idea on how to start. Thankfully, your father took charge of that task.

“Have you decided yet, (y/n)? Will you marry Gao?”

No. No, no, no, no.

“I haven’t decided,” you said as you shook your head.

Your father stood from his chair, grunting from the effort. “Well. Gao had said earlier today that he could only stay the remainder of the week. I wouldn’t be surprised if by that time he formally asks you for your hand. I hope you have an answer for him when he does.” He gave you a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m so happy for your return. My heart would have shattered if something had happened to you.”

You watched with your own broken heart as your father ascended the stairs. Cosette stuck her nose in the air and flitted up after him, possibly to go through the rest of your bags.

Lu scooted closer to you. His eyes were narrowed, but not in a suspicious way. He studied you the same way he would study his mathematics when he was still in school. “Are you sure everything is alright? Nothing happened to you in that cottage, did it?”

Your hands were trembling, but thankfully they were still hidden your skirt. You didn’t lie to your family like this. You had always tried to be open and honest, at least with your father and brother. But you couldn’t bring yourself to let out this secret. That castle in the woods was your burden to endure. Until you were able to figure out where each of you stood, that is. If Zitao truly didn’t care for you… then you would marry Gao. If you couldn’t have love, then you would help your family the best you could.

After a few days spent in the house, adjusting to being back in that space and making up the chores that had been neglected in your absence, you decided to take some time out of the house. Gao had been spending time with your brother and sticking close to you. If he felt that you were overworking yourself or doing work that was “below your station”, he would either call Claudette over or finish it himself. It was a gesture that made you smile out of thankfulness, but nothing more. At this moment, though, you wished his “chivalry” would come to a pause. He’d insisted on escorting you to town. The excuse was so he could eye what wares might be for sale in the market, but you had a feeling is to keep an eye on you, to make sure that you really weren’t sneaking off to see a mysterious lover.

Straw basket hanging from the crook of your elbow, you eyed the meat that was sitting out in front of the butcher’s shop. Mrs. Mooney was busy with another customer so you waited patiently to see if you could haggle with her on the price of a few slices that had caught your eye. Though you could have now paid full price for the items, you rather enjoyed the banter that came with the haggling.

Just Mrs. Mooney had finished up with the other customer, a group of young boys no older than nine came running through the streets.

“We saw him! We saw him!”

Mrs. Mooney put her fists on her hips as she eyed the boys. “What are you going on about?”

“The beast who lives in the woods!” one of the sandy haired boys exclaimed. “We saw him!”

“What on earth were you doing that far in the trees?”

“We didn’t mean to,” another pouted. “Our ball kept rolling and we couldn’t catch it! But we saw him! He was riding a giant black horse with a white spot on its head.”

You nearly choked on the air in your throat. That was Zeus. It had to be.

“He must be a vampire!” a different boy gasped. “Half of his face was stark white, and one hand was covered in scars.”

The first boy hit him over the head with his fist. “He can’t be a vampire, the sun’s out!”

“What is this talk of a vampire?” Gao chuckled as he joined the group.

“It’s not a vampire,” Mrs. Mooney said. “It’s the monstrous lord that lives in the forest, terrorizing anyone who gets too close.”

The grip you had on the basket tightened as you clenched on your back teeth. But you couldn’t say anything and possibly give yourself away.

“I haven’t heard of this lord,” Gao commented.

“He doesn’t exist,” you said in a strained voice.

“Yes, he does!” one of the boys argued. “My mum worked in the castle before he threw everyone out! She says his wife didn’t die because of the fire! She says he killed her! She saw the head wound herself!”

The head would? What was he talking about?

Then you remembered Mrs. Chan saying that there had been an argument the night of the fire. Zitao wouldn’t… sure he wasn’t capable of something like that. It had to have been an accident. Or maybe the boy’s mother was mistaken. Witnesses were always exaggerating what they’d seen.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Mrs. Mooney sniffed. “That boy did have a temper. I bet she found out that he was still sleeping with other girls, threatened to leave him, and he killed her.”

“What do you mean ‘still sleeping with other girls’?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

Mrs. Mooney sneered. “That boy was no prince charming. He chased skirts from here to the capital. It was a shock for us all when he came back engaged and in love. Perhaps it was all a show.”

You stepped back as if Mrs. Mooney’s story had grown a fist and swung at your stomach. Could that be true? Perhaps you were meanly another “skirt” to pass his time. He was probably bored, and you came falling into his lap like a shiny new toy.

Distracted, you left the stall and wandered down the street.

“(y/n)!” Gao ran after you, bringing you to a stop with his hand on your elbow. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No,” you lied. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just not a particular fan of Mrs. Mooney’s gossip. That’s all.”

He stared at you in a manner that let you know that he didn’t quite believe you, but he didn’t push. For another half hour or so, he continued to escort you around the market. You hardly paid attention to prices or the quality of the wares; your mind was far away, pondering on what was true and what had been a lie. Gao soon excused himself, saying that he had letters waiting for replies by at the inn. You were thankful when he left, giving you space to be alone.

Your feet knew where they were taking you before your mind was aware. The neighing of the horses caught your attention. If you were to rent one, you could be back before dark – if you found him, that is.

Mr. Seo, who owned the horses, was happy to watch your basket while you took the tan mare. You told him that you wanted to go riding for an hour or so, to feel the wind in your hair before it got too cold. You felt horrible for the story, but if anyone came looking for you, that seemed less suspicious.

You took the roundabout way to the woods, entering through the same space of trees Mr. Chan had brought you out of a few days before. You tried to think back to the path that Mr. Chan had taken to bring you home. The trees all looked the same. Most were bare of leaves, the branches looking like bony fingers pointing you along your way. In the distance, the sound thunder echoed. But there were no clouds in the sky. You followed the sound. The closer you reached, the more recognizable the sound became: horse hooves.

You urged the horse to go faster so the originator of the sound did not outrun you. Then, in the distance, you saw a black shape blurring past the trees. The forest broke. There was the castle.

Stopped in the field halfway between the forest line and the castle, Zitao sat atop Zeus, staring at you. When you were close enough, you brought your borrowed horse to a stop and slipped off the saddle.

“What are you doing here?” he growled down at you. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the reins. The scars on his left hand stood out even more.

You breathed heavily, suddenly scared as you stood before him. “I have to know why you threw me out.”

“It was time for you to go.”

“That’s a lie. You wouldn’t have-” You stopped. The memory of that night, before the sweet turned sour, sang softly in your head.

But you didn’t need to finish. He knew what you were going to say. “You don’t know what I would and would not have done. I don’t need to explain myself to you. Now go back to your precious fiancé.”

“Did I mean so little to you? Will you really let me go?” You stared intensely, trying to read his features despite the mask giving him perfect cover. He stayed quiet for a moment or two. He kept your gaze steadily. For a make-believe second, you thought that he might ask you to stay. But your instinct was wrong.

“Why would I keep you here?”

He started to turn away. You ran around him to block his path.

“Did all those days really mean nothing to you?”

“Nothing means anything to me. All I want is to go back to my pathetic, peaceful existence in this castle. Alone. Go face your fate. Your family would be better off.” He urged his horse past you. As he galloped towards the stables, you willed for him to look back, to let you know that he didn’t mean the words he’d said.

He never even took a glance.

So, you did as you were told and mounted your horse, vowing never to think about this place again.

When you came back to the house, Gao was there as well. He was sitting at the table with your father and brother.

“I told you she’d be back,” Lu said he clapped Gao on the shoulder. He stood up and came over to you, taking the basket from your hands. “Did you have a nice ride?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Good.” That was all he said as he took the basket into the kitchen. And didn’t come back.

Your father cleared his throat before rising from his chair.

Your pulse quickened as you were left alone with Gao. Without any inclination, you knew what was about to happen. The subtly of your family was nonexistent. Even leaving one by one wasn’t enough to cover up their expectations. A coat of cold sweat covered your palms. You wanted to run. You wanted to go to your sanctuary in the woods. But it was clear that you were no longer welcomed there. Should you do as Zitao said? Should you resign yourself to the fate that was in front of you? You had told yourself that you would if he didn’t want you. Now that you were faced with the choice, you found your resolution faltering.

Gao stood up, giving a quick clearing of the throat before taking the necessary steps towards you to close in the gap. His fingers, warm and soft from lack of hard labor, grasped your own. Any other woman would be swooning at the gesture, but you were already tainted with another’s touch.

If you had never gone through the forest, if the storm had never happened and you’d never gone to the castle, would things be different? Would you have come to love Gao? Or at least accept his love with mild interest? There was no telling of what might have been, only of what was in your heart now. The pieces left behind were marked with fingers that danced across ivory keys. They only saw one pair of dark brown eyes that couldn’t be eclipsed by the lighter shade looking at you now. But the owner of said eyes and fingers had thrown you away, had made it clear that you had not touched him in the same way. And then there were still the secrets of his past. Was he truly a murder?

No, you didn’t want to believe that.

“(y/n)?”

Slightly startled at how far away your mind had gotten, you returned your focus to the matter in front of you. “Yes?”

“I’m not sure if there is any hope in the question I want to ask.” Gao’s voice was soft, comforting, but there was something underneath it that made you question its sincerity. “We’ve known each other a long and I’ve always thought of you as someone special, someone to be cared for. If you would be so willing, I would like to be that person to take care of you.”

You stayed silent. Even now you weren’t sure as to which answer you were going to give. Would you stay firmly in one spot, hoping that he would come for you again? Or did you move forward, taking the necessary steps to go on?

“What I’m trying to ask,” Gao shifted his weight to allow himself to kneel before you, still gripping your fingers, “is if you would do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”

Everything stopped. Nothing existed anymore. Not you, not Gao, not even language or time. If you could stay in that non-existence than maybe you could be moderately content. But you were a woman. A woman whose father had fallen into ruin, whose love had scorned her, and who’s family was falling apart. How you wished you could be selfish like Cosette. What a life that must be, to be able to one’s self first. But that was not who you were. In truth, was there really any another answer? Yes, you loved another, but love and marriage were not always intertwined.

You let out that single word quickly before you could think about it anymore. If given even a second longer, you would have changed your mind and ran away.

“Yes.”

You were going home.

Not your true home. The mansion with too many rooms and wonderful hiding spots had been sold off long ago. But you were going back to the city. It was the “proper place for Gao’s fiancé”. You must be reintroduced into society, your status now elevated.

It was hard to say goodbye. You would miss the space this home provided. You would miss the trees that outlined the town and the people who greeted you every time you went to market. The people here were friendlier than in the city. No longer would you go fetch the groceries yourself when Claudette was too busy to do so. You would be back to being waited on hand and foot. You didn’t want to go. But Gao had already sent out the invitations to the engagement party in a week’s time and all the important people of society would be there to watch him parade you around the ballroom rented for the occasion. His own home wasn’t big enough to hold such a party. Yet. Gao had already told you he planned on moving to a bigger house after the wedding.

Hood pulled over your head, you stepped towards the door of the carriage that was to transport you back to the city. Before Gao could help you up inside, you spotted a figure rushing down the dirt path. Your heart jumped in your chest.

Mrs. Chan.

Gathering your dress in your hands, you ran towards her, the hood falling from your head. As soon as she was within reach, you pulled her into your embrace. You hadn’t seen her since you left the castle. Tears trickled down your cheeks. As if nothing had changed, she tutted at you.

“Now, don’t be like that dear. You’ll swelled your beautiful eyes.” Mrs. Chan leaned back and wiped the tears away with her handkerchief. “There. That’s better. You didn’t think I would let you leave without saying goodbye, now did you?”

You couldn’t say either way. You hadn’t wanted to give yourself a chance to hope and then be heartbroken when it didn’t happen.

“I have to say, though, I am surprised at how things have turned out.”

“I didn’t want them to go this way,” you confessed. “I had hoped-” No. Best not to voice that out loud.

Mrs. Chan fixed the hood back onto your crown in her motherly way. “I know, dear, but the thing about hope, it never really dies or goes away. The smallest of embers can ignite it once again.”

You wanted to believe that. It was hard, though. Too much water had been poured on your fire. You pulled Mrs. Chan into another hug. “I’ll miss you.”

“Take care, dear. And don’t forget how strong you are.” She left you with one last pat on the cheek and then turned you around so you would go back to the carriage.

“Who was that?” Gao asked when you returned.

“A friend from the village,” you replied, your eyes on Mrs. Chan’s retreating back.

Gao simply nodded in reply before helping you into the carriage. It was stuffy inside with your family and Gao crowded amongst the seats. Your stomach flipped and churned with every bump. No storm was coming this time, so the driver took the main road, avoiding the forest. By sundown, you had made it the inn that was supposed to be your shelter on the last trip. Cosette filled the silence of your rented room with her talk of parties and what store she wanted to buy a new dress from as soon as you all arrived back in “civilization”. There was even a comment of having one of the dresses from your bags altered to fit with the modern fashion. You wanted to scream at her not to touch them, but the fight inside you was hard to find. Instead, you simply turned your back to her as you lied in the bed and blew out the candle to diminish the small amount of light she could see by.

The family settled into Gao’s two-story house with little difficulty. The servants fulfilled their wishes and took their orders. Most were familiar with your brother already, having been employed by Gao’s family for decades. You still tried to do things for yourself, like tending to the fire in whatever room you were occupying or collecting your laundry. The work was quickly snatched from your hands as soon as one of the servants saw what you were doing.

The head housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, was determined to mold you into the madam of the home. She would come to you with the preparations for dinner, for approval on new curtains for certain rooms, and for anything else she thought you should be informed of or have the final say on. Most of these things you saw as frivolous. She always approached you with the most uptight manners and wouldn’t leave until you made a firm decision.

You hated it here. How many times a day were you questioning your decision? How many different excuses had you come up with to break off the engagement? How many times had you considered running away?

The one thing that stopped you from following through on any of those ideas: your father. He was working again, already. His clientele was back, just as Gao had promised. You hadn’t seen your father smile like this in so long that you couldn’t bare to be the one who made it disappear again.

The day of the party arrived. All day you felt nauseous. Cosette flitted around your room, talking sweetly about the eligible bachelors who had been invited and how much missed dancing properly and not having to suffer through the less formal country dances. You sat perfectly still as one of the servant girls, Mei, pinned back your hair and colored your lips. You didn’t want to dance tonight. The dress you were to wear may have been a golden yellow – the color of happiness – but you felt more like a dark cloud in the night sky. You didn’t want to stand up in front of all those people and pretend to be happy. But you would do it. For your father.

Gao was beaming the entire ride to the ballroom. It was located near the center of the city, grand enough for the king and large enough to hold a hundred guests. You were thankful for the gloves that encased your hands as Gao escorted you inside. You didn’t want to feel his skin on yours.

Dozens upon dozens of people milled about the grand ballroom, drinks in hand as they laughed through shallow conversations. Some faces you recognized. Most you didn’t. Gao would stop at every other group or so and introduce you. None of the names stuck and the unknown faces were nothing more than blurs. When you finally reached the main center, Gao snatched two glasses of wine from a passing server, handing one to you before calling for the talking to cease.

“I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming out to celebrate my approaching marriage,” Gao said loudly as he held his glass high in the in air. The singularity was not missed. Did he forget that two people were involved in this engagement? You barely paid attention to his words, focusing on keeping the smile on your face. A tall figure moving in the back of the room caught your eye, but it disappeared before you could make out who it might be. “This has been a long time coming for me. Watching (y/n) grow into the beautiful young woman she is today was a privilege that I am honored to have been given. I know she will only grow more beautiful in our life together. To (y/n).”

“To (y/n)!” The room echoed. Glasses moved stem side up as the toast was declared finished and the band in the corner struck up a song.

Gao finished his drink as well before pulling you on to the dance floor, not even giving you chance to protest. He whirled you around the polished floor like a prized cow. You didn’t bother with the charade of a smile anymore. It was a relief when the first song faded to a close and Gao let you go. He said something about needing to conduct some business and walked away. You finally felt like you could breathe.

“One shouldn’t leave their fiancé alone on a night like this.”

You gasped as you whirled around. It can’t be. It wasn’t possible for him to be standing here, right now in front of you. But he was here, more elegantly dressed than of the other gentlemen with his blue velvet coat, his white mask shining in the candlelight. Without any explanation, he held his hand out to you. There was no hesitancy in taking it, even if you should have been more cautious.

He was here. Your mind kept repeating that over and over. He was here, he was here, he was here.

Zitao pulled you in close, his hand secured in the curvature of your waist. The other hand cradled your right as your left hand rested comfortably on his shoulder. With the grace of a ballet performer, he glided around the dance floor, making up for any misstep you might take. Now you wore a genuine smile. How could you not when he had come? But even in your joy, the obvious could not be overlooked.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

He did not wear the same smile as you. “I… I had to come see you.”

Your heart leapt at that answer. “Why?”

“You’re a hard person to forget.”

At that simple statement your throat closed in. Tears would have burst forth if you hadn’t fought to hold them back. Oh, how you wanted to wrap yourself up in his arms.

“You make no sense,” you said with a shake of your head. “You throw me out, yet send me home with lavish gifts. Then I’m told that you used to chase after women like a hunting dog after birds. Was I just another plaything to you? See if we could get the poor destitute girl before she has to go back to her miserable life?”

“No!” Zitao snapped. A quick glance around and then he lowered his voice, “I will admit that I wasn’t the most respectable person in the past. But I’m not person anymore. And you were never a game. You have always been more.”

You weren’t sure why, but you believed him.

“Why didn’t you come or me sooner?” you questioned. Sooner? Why didn’t he take you away that day in the forest?

“I thought you knew how stubborn I was already?” he said with a half-smile. It faded just as quickly as it had come. “I was content in being alone. I thought it was better for me. You can’t get hurt if you don’t let anyone in.”

“But you can’t live like that,” you urged. “Everyone gets hurt. Besides, you have let people in. Mrs. Chan cares about you like her own son.”

He sighed, the air contorting to a laugh near the end. “She said as much. But you must understand. The last time… the last time I felt this way, I was left broken, a monster—”

“You’re not a monster. This,” you bobbed the hand that he held up and down so he would know what you were referring to, “is nothing more than a scar. It doesn’t make you who you are.” But it did come with a past. “That night of the fire… did you kill her?”

Zitao’s Adam’s apple shuddered as he swallowed thickly. Fear was evident in his eyes.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I did.”

Your feet stopped moving. No. You didn’t want to believe it. He was just trying to push you away again. “Zitao—”

“And who exactly invited you.”

Unbeknownst to you, the music had stopped and all who were gathered in the ballroom were circled around you. Gao had cut through the crowd and now stood behind Zitao, his shoulders pushed back in an intimidating manner. He wouldn’t know that such a tactic wouldn’t work. Letting you go, Zitao turned on the balls of his feet, lacing his hands behind his back. He looked more like a powerful lord in this moment than you’d ever witnessed.

“No one in particular invited me,” Zitao said regally. “But as I’m the one who is going to steal away your fiancé, I thought an appearance was necessary.”

“You?” Gao sneered. “And who exactly do you think you are to attempt such a thing?”

“I am Lord Huang.”

“Lord Huang?” A pause. Then Gao laughed. “Ah. I’ve heard of you. From the dimwitted villagers who fear you. Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of vampire or hideous beast?”

“Countryside rumors are usually exaggerated.”

“Are you sure? Why else would you be wearing a mask like that if not to contain the beast?”

Zitao growled. “It is none of your business.”

“Come on, beast, show us what you’re hiding.”

You stepped around Zitao protectively. “Gao, stop it.”

“No, I don’t’ think I will,” Gao said mockingly. “This man is trying to ruin our party. The least he could do is give us some entertainment.”

“Gao, I said stop—"

Before you could finish, the mask covering Zitao’s scars was snatched off his head. Cosette had snuck up from behind and taken the chance to remove the mask. Zitao scrambled to cover his face. Gao laughed at the humiliation, showing you exactly who he was. Zitao ran from the room. Cosette enjoyed the moment, her eyes shining from the laughter she held inside. Taking the mask from her, you started after Zitao, but Gao caught you by your upper arm.

“Where are you going?”

You refused to answer. You stomped on his foot to make him let go and ran out the door. “Zitao! Zitao!” It was too late. He had already mounted his horse and was getting smaller as he raced down the cobbled road away from the ballroom.

“(y/n)!”

Your father and brother dashed out of the building. To no one’s surprise, Cosette was not to be seen. She was probably hiding, feigning shame from the scene you’d dare to cause in front of some poor sap who was falling for it. Lu stepped next to you, hand on your shoulder. “(y/n)?”

“I want to go home.”

Lu looked to your father, who simply nodded. You were led into their carriage and left the party. No questions were asked, for which you were thankful. You couldn’t do it. Even for your father. You loved Zitao. That wouldn’t change. Besides, after that display, you couldn’t be tied to a man like Gao.

Back at his home, you didn’t go to your room. That might have been the safest place to be, the one area Gao wouldn’t storm into because it belonged to him. No, instead you stayed bravely in the living room. You sat on the couch, hands resting in your lap, as you waited for Gao to return. It took almost an hour, but when he did finally come through the door, you knew that amount of time wasn’t enough to calm him down.

“How dare you humiliate me like that!”

“I didn’t humiliate you,” you said firmly. You looked him directly in the eye so he wouldn’t think that you were going to cower before him. “You did that to yourself.”

“You were carousing with another man!”

“I was dancing with him, nothing else. There was music and other couples. You had left me, so I danced with him.”

“It was him, wasn’t it?” You weren’t even surprised that Gao had put the pieces together. You would think him rather stupid if he hadn’t. Gao stalked towards you. “There was no old woman in a cottage, was there? Cosette was right when she said you had a lover. And here we all thought you were an innocent flower. You are no more than a weed in disguise.”

“And you are as beastly as you claimed Zitao to be!”

Infuriated by your words, Gao reached his hand back, palm flat, to strike. You closed your eyes to brace for the hit. It never came. Opening your eyes, you saw that Lu had intervened, catching Gao’s wrist before he could swing.

“You will not lay a hand on my sister,” Lu commanded through clenched teeth. He didn’t let go until Gao finally wretched his arm away.

“She is still my fiancé!”

“No, I am not.” You yanked the ring that had been drowning you like an anchor at sea off your finger and tossed it so it landed on the floor at Gao’s feet. It clanged and rattled as if angry at the abandonment. “You’re right. I do love him. And as long as he exists, I won’t ever marry you.”

“We will be out of your house by the end of the week,” your father stated from the hallway. You hadn’t realized that he was there. You hoped he hadn’t been witness to all that had transpired.

Gao marched out of the room, muttering under his breath. Lu gave you a look of pity before exiting on his own. Your father continued to stand there for another minute or two. Several times he opened his mouth, but each time he left the words inside. Eventually, he too left you alone.

You couldn’t stay here. You needed to get to Zitao.

You waited a few more hours until you were sure most of the inhabitants were asleep. Then, as quietly as you could, you changed into clothes more fit for a long journey and slipped out the front door. You were sure that Zitao would not stay in town. If he did, well he would just have to be surprised at your appearance at the castle. Mrs. Chan would let you in if need be. You paid for a horse and headed out. Towards your real home.

All night you rode, even when your eyes began to droop, you forced yourself to stay awake, slapping your cheek if needed. You had to put as much space between you and your family. Between you and Gao. When you came to the same small village as the inn that you stayed at, you didn’t stop too long to rest. It was already midday by that time. You switched out horses and ate a quick meal before starting again. You were too determined to be slowed down. It was dark once again when you reached the country manor. Close to midnight if you had to guess. Going into the forest at this time would be reckless. You needed to get to Zitao, but you didn’t want to die in the process. It could wait until morning. You still had a whole day on your family. You tied the horse up near a pile of hay outside then went through the back door that had been kept unlocked. The memory in your feet carried you up the stairs to your room. You didn’t even bother pulling back the sheets. As your head hit the dust-covered pillow you fell asleep.

When your eyes opened, it was still dark. Odd. You felt well rested – more than rested. Leaving the room, you went down the stairs to the living room, where a small clock still sat on the mantle of the fireplace. It read that it was eight o’clock. How?

No. Could you really have slept throughout the entire day? That was what you got for not resting during your trip.

Bang! Bang! Bang! “(Y/n)! (Y/n) are you in there!”

Mrs. Chan?

You rushed to the door to see the old woman looking terrified, her hair falling out in bits from underneath her bonnet.

“Oh, thank goodness!” She threw her arms around you before pulling back and grabbing your hand. “Come! You must come quickly!”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Pure fear ran cold through your veins. Was Zitao planning on hurting himself?

“Your fiancé arrived earlier today and started spouting nonsense around town. He started saying that Lord Huang had kidnapped you and that he would kill you like he killed his wife. I knew you weren’t at the castle so I hoped and prayed that you would be here. Your fiancé has convinced the villagers to go after Lord Huang. I’m afraid that they might kill him!”

“What?” What madness was this? Only one thing still gave you hope. “But they can’t find the castle, can they?”

“A few of the previous servants still know the way. Hurry, we don’t have much time!” Mrs. Chan scrambled into the open carriage. That would be too slow if you both rode in it. Hopping on to the other horse, you yelled at Mrs. Chan that you were going ahead. You knew the way now and you had to get to him as quickly as humanly possible. Branches and twigs pulled at your sleeves to slow you down as you galloped though the forest. You batted as many as you could away. Nothing could get in your way.

As the trees broke through to the field, you saw them. A mob of torches and pitch forks breaking through the front doors as they yelled in victory. You pushed the horse faster, up the stairs and through the doors. The villagers had surrounded Zitao in the front hall, shouting curses at him and calling him a murderer as others threw rocks at him as he sat on the ground, taking it.

“Leave him alone!”

Some of the villagers gasped in surprise. You jumped down from the horse and shoved them aside until you reached Zitao. You pushed his hair from his face. He didn’t seem badly injured. A drop of blood ran down his face, but it didn’t look dire. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted as he tried to push away. “Get out of here. Before you get hurt.”

“No!” You sprang to your feet and stared the villagers all down. “You come in here, unprovoked, and call him a monster! The only monsters I see here are you for believing a man like that!” You point to Gao who showed no remorse for his actions.

“He kidnapped you!” a man from the circle yelled.

“No, he didn’t! I left the city of my own accord!”

“He killed his wife!” another argued.

“That is a lie!” The circle parted again as Mrs. Chan came into view. A fury burned in her eyes. “I was there that night. He didn’t kill her. If you have evidence against my word, then get the constable involved. But I will swear in court that he didn’t do it.”

No one could argue with a declaration like that. Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd. Glances were exchanged. Then mumble apologies as the villagers lost their fight. In groups of two or three, they began to head towards the door. Letting out a slight groan, Zitao tried to push himself up. You let him lean on you as he made it the rest of the way.

“Where are you going?” Gao shouted at the villagers’ backs. “He’s a monster! A beast! Just look at him! He’ll ruin your village! What about those he cast out? Left jobless through his cruelty? Are you all cowards?” No one even turned to look at him. Furious, Gao turned to the two of you. His eyes were full of hatred. “You will regret this.” He leveled his gun. Aimed at you.

“No!”

Zitao jumped in front of you right as the gun went off. He fell to the ground as he clung to his side. Blood seeped through his fingers. Gao ran off. The real coward.

“No, no, no. Please, no.” You dropped to your knees and forced Zitao’s hands away from the wound. There was so much blood that you couldn’t see how bad it was. Your hands were covered in seconds. Zitao was already beginning to sway back and forth from the loss. Mrs. Chan was by your side in an instant.

“We need to get him into bed so I can see to his wound.”

“Just let it go,” Zitao groaned. “Maybe it’s better this way.”

“Shut up!” you snapped at him. “Don’t talk like that. Now get up.”

Zitao stared at you for a beat before nodding and letting you get him to his feet. Mrs. Chan helped you get him up the stairs and to his room where he lied down on top of the blankets. He protested when Mrs. Chan cut away at his shirt, but a slap of her hand shut him right up.

“Bring me the pitcher,” Mrs. Chan ordered of you. Without thinking twice, you ran to the dresser and brought the pitcher to her. With a clean cloth in her hand, Mrs. Chan washed the wound to get a better look. She let out a sigh of relief. “It only grazed his side. He should be alright. As long as we get it closed and it doesn’t become infected.”

You weren’t sure if you could believe her. Zitao had drifted off, his eyes closed, completely still. Only his chest moving up and down as his lungs filled with air gave you hope. Mrs. Chan stood up and left the room. She came back with a needle and thread in her hand. She didn’t flinch as she pierced his side to stitch the wound closed. Zitao whimpered at the sharp pain. You moved to sit by his head and grabbed his hand. You kissed the back of his fingers in comfort. When Mrs. Chan was finished, she stood up and sighed.

“He’ll be alright. The wound is closed and wasn’t too severe. He’ll have a scar, but at this point….” She shrugged. With her hand crusted with dried blood, she brushed the hair off Zitao’s forehead. “The poor dear.” Then, she left.

Feeling brave and unwilling to leave him in case something else were to happen, you shifted so you were now laying down next to Zitao. He was more peaceful now; his face smooth, no longer revealing discomfort or pain. You rested your chin on his shoulder. With the tip of your finger, you traced the outline of his mask, down his nose to his chin. Then you sat up and let go of his hand to untie the mask. Zitao didn’t move as you pulled the covering from his face and set it down on the nightstand. You kissed his cheek before settling back down and falling asleep yourself.

You woke to a slight tickling sensation on your cheek. Letting your eyelids flutter open, you let out a slight laugh when you saw Zitao awake. He was smiling at you as well while caressing your skin. He hadn’t replaced the mask, letting you see the light, protruding scars on his cheek and forehead.

“Good morning,” he greeted softly.

“You’re alright.”

He nodded. A small tear fell down your cheek. With his thumb, he wiped it away.

Slowly, as if scared you might run away, he leaned in, his eyes drifting down to your lips. At first, the contact was so soft you thought that perhaps he hadn’t kissed you at all. But as the pressure grew, your eyes closed again, and you entangled your fingers in his hair. You were losing yourself in the kiss, happy that he was alive and that you were with him. But his confession at the party pushed itself to the forefront of your mind. You broke off the kiss. Sitting up, you turned away from him.

“What is it?” Zitao asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

You looked at him over your shoulder. “If I ask you a question, will you answer it honestly? Please?”

He reached out and grabbed your hand, bring it to his chest. “I swear.”

You turned to face him fully. As gently as you could, you placed your fingertips on his scar. He didn’t flinch back. “What happened that night? You said you killed her. But I don’t believe that.”

Zitao cringed as if in pain. He looked off to the side before coming back to you.

“I loved her. I swear I did. And I thought she loved me, too. But I was wrong.” He lowered the hand that held on to your fingers, keeping his focus there. “Soon after we were married, I found out that she had a lover, that she didn’t have any feelings for me. I told her I was going to put in a petition for divorce, that I was going to throw her out. That night, she slipped a sleeping potion into my wine at dinner, but I was too upset to drink it all. It didn’t matter. The servants who saw me thought I was drunk as I stumbled to our room. I woke up before she was expecting. Her lover was there, helping her start a fire. I’m sure they were thinking of killing me so she would inherit everything.”

He took a deep breath. You squeezed his hand to let him know that he hadn’t lost you.

“I fought with the man, trying to stop him from ruining my home. My wife tried to get between us, but… one of us – I don’t know who – shoved her away hard enough that she hit her head on the sharp edge of a dresser, falling to the ground. I called out her name. When I was distracted, the man hit me with something hard, knocking me out. I didn’t come to until the fire was put out. The fire had made it over to me. My left side was wrapped in bandages. The man was gone and my wife was dead.”

He didn’t kill her. You knew that in your heart. He didn’t maliciously set out for her to die. He was only protecting himself, his family’s legacy.

You threw your arms around him. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I could have been the one who pushed her.”

Leaning back, you repeated, “It wasn’t your fault.” The memory of that final night came back to you. “Is that why you made me leave? Did you think you would hurt me?”

Zitao shook his head. “No. I was scared you might hurt me. When you whispered my name, I heard her again. I couldn’t go through that. I couldn’t risk being used like that again.” His eyes finally raised back up to meet yours. He caressed your cheek with his knuckles, the gesture absent of fear. “But you’re not her. It took me too long to realize that. (Y/n), can you forgive me for being so stupid?”

“Of course,” you said between your tears. “Of course, I can. I love you, Zitao.”

Happiness could not be enough to describe the elation shining from his smile. Encapsulating your face in his hands, he pulled you forward and captured your lips again. He kissed you deeply, wrapping his arms around you until you were pressed tightly against his chest. He ended it only to ask a single question.

“Will you marry me?”

You barely gave a nod before he resumed the kiss.

It was a beautiful day for an outdoor wedding day. The sky was a soft baby blue. A few puffs of white clouds floated through, but nothing gave you worry about rain. It wasn’t too hot or too cold and only a slight breeze interrupted the festivities every once in a while. The guests ran around the field, laughing and playing while you sat in a chair, a veil draped around your shoulders.

“You look beautiful.” Your father beamed with pride as he kissed the top of your head.

“Thank you.” Your face was aching from all the smiling, but you couldn’t stop. Happiness of this level couldn’t be contained or controlled. It needed to be shared.

Lu was standing a few feet away, talking to a baron who had been friends with Zitao’s father. Sitting in a chair with her signature fan in her hand, Cosette wore a snarl on her face. She was probably thinking about how hard it would be to outdo you in marrying a lord. Not that you cared. She would be taken care of, far away from here. Speaking of your husband, he came walking back up with a glass of wine in his hand after making the rounds of thanking guests.

“You will take care of her?” your father asked Zitao for the hundredth time. Your husband took it with stride, beaming in the sunlight.

“Of course,” he answered. “For the rest of my life.” Putting the drink down, he held a hand out to you, but kept his attention on your father. “May I steal her for a moment?”

“Yes, yes,” your father chuckled. “It’s your wedding day after all.”

Zitao tugged you to your feet and led you away from the festivities. He kept going until you were no longer insight of the others. The lone gazebo that sat near the lake on the grounds came closer. Within its walls, no one would be able to find you.

“Finally, I have you alone again.”

You laughed. “You will have me alone for a very long in the future. It’s rude to leave our guests in the middle of the reception.”

“I don’t care if it’s rude,” Zitao stated. You knew he really didn’t care. And ou couldn’t quite find it in yourself to care either. “Dance with me.”

“What?” You looked around but didn’t see a hidden band. “There’s no music.”

“Yes, there is. You are the music.”

You wanted to laugh at his sentimental statement. However, the way he said it melted your heart. So, you gave in, letting him pull you in and rock you back and forth across the wooden floor of the gazebo. He kept his eyes on you, never faltering for a second.

“I love you,” he said suddenly. He’d said it before but your heart still soared whenever you heard that phrase fall from his lips.

“I love you, too.” And you would make sure that he knew it, every day for the rest of your lives. He might not have had the fairy tale ending the first time around, but you were selfishly thankful. Because it gave way for you to meet him and heal his heart. And so, the two of you would live happily ever after.

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