22. Charlotte
By the time Henry arrived to collect her the next day, Charlotte was a wreck. The candle had been received and stowed carefully inside her gown, but she might as well have stored a nest of ants there. She could barely stay still, one minute seized by the certainty she should throw it away and the next by a burning impatience for night to fall so she could finally see Henry’s true face.
She waited outside for him, but since her entire family waited with her, he couldn’t avoid them this time. They greeted him politely enough—even with curious excitement on the part of her sisters now that he had provided the promised wealth. Charlotte just hoped he didn’t notice the tension in her father’s shoulders or the way her mother clung to her and avoided looking straight at the bear in front of her.
Henry himself said as little as possible until they had departed and were traveling through the trees.
“How did it go?” A world of tension lay beneath the words. Had he been worrying about her for the last three days?
Charlotte leaned forward, resting her cheek against the fur of his neck. Had he been taking proper care of himself? What had he done alone at night in his human form? Without her to sleep beside had he roamed the empty corridors?
The only thought she couldn’t stomach was the idea that he might have spent those nights alone in the dining room. But memories of the portrait—once so painful—led her now to thoughts of Gwen and her search for Easton. Even if Henry’s feelings still lingered, she would find a way to drive them out. Now that she knew there was no bereft love waiting for him, nothing could make her give him up. Henry was hers, just like she was his, and she would hold onto him with every bit of her strength.
“Lottie?” he asked at her silence, and warmth rushed through her at the nickname. She had missed hearing it. She had missed him.
“Thank you,” she said. “For suggesting I go home and for taking me there. I didn’t realize how much I needed to reconcile with my parents. Even my sisters were kind to me like they used to be when we were small. Now that I’m gone and they’re rich, everything is forgiven.”
She couldn’t keep a hint of sourness from appearing in the last sentence, but it was tempered with amusement. Her sisters were who they were, and there was nothing for Charlotte to do apart from accept that fact. She couldn’t force them to change, and she would only make herself miserable hoping for it. They wouldn’t be bothered in the least.
“It was a good time.” Henry repeated, both relieved and pleased. “I was worried I’d done the wrong thing sending you to them. They have never treated you as you deserved, and I spent the whole time you were gone worried I’d only delivered you into further heartbreak. Perhaps you’d be better without them in your life at all.”
“No,” Charlotte said quickly. “My parents apologized for the past, and everyone treated me well. I know my life is with you now—I welcome that—but my past is still important to me. They’re still important to me.”
Henry grunted as if not entirely convinced.
“I’m sorry you worried, though,” Charlotte said softly.
“I just hope it won’t make you feel more lonely in the castle,” Henry said, still sounding concerned.
“No,” Charlotte said fervently. “As much as I liked seeing my family again, I missed home. Our home.” Her voice dipped shyly on the last two words, and he rumbled in response.
“Our home,” he repeated, in his deep, gravely voice, and the sound filled her with happiness. She was with Henry again, and they were going home.
And soon it would be night.
The trees flew past, and when the castle finally appeared, Charlotte felt actual tears at the sight of the sober gray stone. She never would have guessed how comfortable a home the castle would become.
They parted ways as usual, but Charlotte could barely make it through her usual evening routine. Food might as well have been paper in her mouth for its lack of taste, and the candle still burned beneath her dress, although it had never been lit.
When it came time to undress, she hid it carefully beneath her pillow. Almost as soon as she’d extinguished the normal candelabra—triggering the accustomed descent of pure darkness—the door opened. Henry had never arrived so promptly before, and she dared to hope he had missed her some fraction of the amount she had missed him.
He sighed as he slid between the sheets, keeping to their usual distance.
“It’s nice to have you back,” he said simply. “I managed alone here without you before our wedding, but now…”
Charlotte glowed at his words. He really had missed her. He wanted her here. Maybe she was right in hoping he had already started to forget his youthful interest in the princess and was turning toward his wife instead.
“I’m glad to be back,” she murmured, wondering if the extent of her emotion sounded in her voice. “I won’t leave you again.”
“It was a fortunate day when I first saw you and your sisters in the woods.” The sound of his voice told her he’d rolled over and was lying on his side facing toward her.
“You mentioned you’d seen us before,” Charlotte said. “But how did you decide to propose to me? And why me?”
She asked the questions shamelessly, the fear she had felt before over his answers gone.
“From the moment I saw you, I couldn’t take my eyes off you, Lottie.”
She laughed, unable to help the glow of satisfaction.
“Do you not believe me?” he asked. “How could I look away? You’re like sunshine itself. I knew I needed to find a wife, and as soon as I saw you, I knew I wanted it to be you. Seeing you made me feel like I’d spent the last months beneath solid gray cloud and the sun had finally appeared.”
She considered his words. “You needed a wife. Because of your enchantment.” She was skirting dangerously close to topics he had declared off limits, but she couldn’t help herself. “And you picked me because you thought I was beautiful.” She wasn’t sure whether to be amused or offended.
Henry groaned. “That sounds terribly shallow, doesn’t it? But it wasn’t like that. Of course I noticed your beauty—it would be impossible not to. But I’ve seen plenty of beautiful women before. What drew me to you was something else. The brightness in you was in your expression and your words, not just your features. Even the way you carried yourself…”
He groaned again. “I’m not explaining it well. I’m just saying that your beauty isn’t only physical. It shines out of you. I could see it in the way you approached simple tasks like gathering food and in the way you interacted with your sisters. I suppose, objectively speaking, they are attractive enough, but they seemed like gray clouds beside your sun. I know it sounds foolish, but I felt as if I knew you. And then after we talked…”
The rustle of sheets gave away his restless movement. “After we talked, I was really sure. If I hadn’t managed to convince you, I don’t know what I would have done. Thanks to the enchantment, I would still have needed a wife, but how could I have married someone else?”
Fresh warmth suffused Charlotte. Henry had seen her from the very beginning, just as he had seen her all these weeks in the castle. She had come home ready to fight for their future, but was it possible he was already won?
Her heart soared at the thought even as she cautioned herself. If he loved her as she loved him, why did he keep such a careful distance, never treating her as anything more than a friend and companion?
Unless he’s just keeping his promise, a new voice whispered.
As soon as she thought it, Charlotte realized how likely it was. Her husband—her good and true husband—had made promises to her that he would consider absolutely binding. Promises he wouldn’t break, no matter his feelings.
She let out a sound that was half sob, half laugh. Whatever Gwen had once been to him, his attention now seemed solely for his wife. Everything she longed for was in front of her. She just had to reach out her hand and grasp it.
“What is it?” he asked sharply, worry in his tone. “Are you all right?”
Charlotte was tempted to say no, just to see if he would cross the divide to comfort her again. But she couldn’t bring herself to say something so untrue.
“I’m just happy,” she whispered. “I’m happy to be back.”
“Oh.” He settled back, rustling the sheets at his movement. “Then we can be happy together.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “Together.” She knew her voice sounded a bit watery, but she didn’t care.
Soon she would tell him all her heart and admit her foolish fears. But she didn’t want to mar this perfect moment with her confession. They had the rest of their lives to be together as husband and wife. There was no rush.
“I think I might actually be able to sleep tonight,” Henry murmured in a voice that was already half slurred with sleep.
Her heart contracted. Had he lain awake without her beside him? Or perhaps he had prowled the corridors as she had feared. As much as her heart ached for him, it also rejoiced to know she had so much sway over his emotions.
“Sleep, dear husband,” she whispered. “And in the morning, we will begin afresh.”
And she would know his face by then. She would be able to picture him as his true self, and there would be no more barriers between them.
Swept up in her emotions, even the enchantment seemed like nothing. With their combined effort, how could they not find an answer to it?
His breathing evened, slowing into the familiar rhythm of his sleep. She lay for a long time, listening contentedly to the sound of his presence. But finally eagerness overtook her, and she stole out of bed.
With trembling fingers, she retrieved her mother’s candle and flint. It took her several tries to light it, and part of her thought it wasn’t going to work. But then flame blossomed in the darkness.
She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting a moment for them to adjust before cracking them open. She had never realized how bright a single candle could be until she had seen the depth of full darkness.
Shielding the single flame with her hand, she crept around the end of the enormous bed, approaching the far side where her husband lay. Her heart pattered far faster than her feet, sounding so loud she feared he would hear it and awaken.
But he slumbered peacefully, clearly deeply tired. When she had approached close enough, she leaned in, holding the candle so it would illuminate his face.
Her breath caught at sight of him. How was it possible that he was even more handsome than she had dreamed? He looked so peaceful in repose, giving her a full chance to admire his straight nose, strong jaw, and the riot of dark brown hair. The candlelight caught on his head, suggesting a hint that was almost auburn amid the brown. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she didn’t need to see them to fall even more in love with him.
Her body swayed toward him, pulled by something beyond conscious thought. But as she shifted position, a drip of candle wax fell. She only had time to gasp and jerk backward as it landed on the hand he had thrown over the blanket.
His eyes sprang open, and she forgot everything else at their piercing blue. With his eyes closed, he had been almost painfully beautiful, but the animation and intensity of his eyes only amplified the effect. The startling blue stood out against his dark hair, creating a whole that robbed her of breath. Could this man truly be her husband?
His expression, which had started out with the confusion expected from someone who had been woken from deep sleep by burning wax, softened at the sight of her. Their eyes locked together. Looking at his true face—at his unguarded response to her—she knew he already loved her as completely as she longed to be loved.
But the joy had barely registered when his expression changed. His thoughts had caught up with his instincts, and his gaze dropped to the candle in her hand. Instantly his face changed to a look of such profound horror that she fell back before it.
“What have you done?” he cried. “What have you done?”
“I…I just…” She moved to blow out the candle, panicked by his response, but he leaped forward and gripped her wrist in a steel hold.
“No,” he said sharply. “There’s no point now. The damage is already done. At least let me see you for these last moments.”
“What do you mean?” she gasped as he removed the candle from her now trembling hold and placed it on the small table beside the bed. “What last moments?”
“Three months,” he said. “That’s all we needed. Three months’ worth of nights. We were nearly there.”
“I don’t understand.” Charlotte’s trembling had spread from her hands to her whole body.
“When I left home to go adventuring on my own—a foolish notion I know now—I was captured in these valleys. The people who captured me wanted me to break their enchantment through my marriage. But something went wrong. I don’t know why—I don’t think they do either. I was supposed to be a bear at night, not during the day. It ruined their plans.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Many marriage ceremonies are too elaborate to be completed between a human and a bear.”
Charlotte swallowed painfully, putting together the pieces he hadn’t said. “The mountain kingdom. They stole a husband for their princess. They wanted to marry you to Gwen!”
“Who?” he asked blankly.
“The mountain princess,” she cried. “The one in the portrait.”
“The portrait?” He frowned for a moment before his brow cleared. “Oh, you mean the one in the dining room? I never go in there.”
“You…never go in there?” Charlotte whispered, trying to understand the seismic shocks that kept hitting her.
He laughed again, another bitter sound. “An empty castle except for one furnished room? This place didn’t come from the bell—it’s part of my enchantment, and it was a little obvious in its efforts to sway me with that one.”
“They…they weren’t your portraits?” Charlotte stammered.
“There were others?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
“In the side tables. And those came from the bell, after I arrived.”
“When the bell interacts with the castle, it’s affected by the castle’s enchantment.” He shrugged. “I never even met the princess. If they ever told me her name, I don’t remember it. I certainly had no desire to eat my meals with her looming over me. She’s the reason for my capture, my imprisonment in the body of a bear, all of it. Even if she didn’t order it herself, she’s still at the root of my involvement.”
Gwen wasn’t his lost love, she was his enemy—although she didn’t know it. From her reaction to Charlotte’s story, she clearly had no idea who Henry was or what had been done to him in her name.
“So you didn’t create this castle yourself?” Charlotte gasped out.
“I came here from the mountain kingdom, and the castle already existed when I arrived. Even with the bell, I could hardly change anything until you arrived.”
He spoke in a dead, hopeless tone, and Charlotte feared she might be sick.
“How did you escape them?” she asked.
“I didn’t. When it all went wrong, she released me.”
“Who is she?” Charlotte whispered.
“The mountain queen. The ones who captured me were her people, and she’s the one who enchanted me. As I said, I was intended to marry their princess, but when the enchantment went wrong, she gave me the bell and told me that if I wanted to live, I had to find my own way to break the enchantment. She tied me to her with a second enchantment so that if I did break it, I would be forcibly returned to them. So I had two choices: live as a bear forever, or reclaim my true form and be forced to marry the princess as they planned.”
“But why free you in the first place?” Charlotte asked, trying to make sense of the nightmare she had suddenly found herself in.
“The mountain court has been enchanted for as many years as we’ve been alive,” he said. “If they had the answer to breaking the enchantment, they would have done so long ago.”
“And they expected you to find a way free?” Charlotte asked.
Henry shrugged. “I’m a prince and uninvolved in their schemes. There are always ways for one such as me to free themself. All the stories say it.”
“A…a prince,” Charlotte gasped. “What do you mean? I thought—”
“That’s another thing I loved about you,” he said sadly. “That you didn’t know I was a prince. You knew me only as Henry, not Prince Henry, soon to be crown prince of Arcadia.”
Charlotte gasped again, remembering his promise that he would move her family and establish them in Arcadia. She had even known Crown Prince Maximilian and Princess Alyssa’s only son was called Henry. But it had never occurred to her to put those things together. Had he been planning to move her family after he broke his enchantment?
“But if you’re a prince, you must have a godmother,” she said, clutching desperately at possibilities. “We need to call her!”
“I already did.” He sounded grim. “She told me the mountain people were partially right about the way to break the enchantment. It was through a royal marriage. But it would take love as well as a wedding. The moment I looked into my wife’s eyes with my own human eyes and felt nothing but love, the enchantment would be broken. But she told me something else as well. There was a way for me to break the second enchantment, the one tying me back to the mountain kingdom.”
“What…what did you have to do?” Charlotte whispered although she could already guess at the answer.
“I had to find a girl to love who would marry me despite my being a bear—someone who didn’t know my true identity or the details of my enchantments. A girl who would sleep beside me for three months’ worth of nights and trust me without ever seeing my face. The queen’s enchantment creates a false bond and forced loyalty, but it could be broken by trust that was freely given and a bond created by choice. If I could find someone who would believe in me and trust in me enough to sleep beside me in darkness without knowing why, her faith would win my freedom from both enchantments.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You married me, Lottie, and I can assure you I felt nothing but love when I looked into your eyes just now. You’ve freed me from my life as a bear. I will never be one again. But now I cannot escape the mountain queen. My godmother has already done as much as she can for me.”
Charlotte stepped forward, fisting his nightshirt in both hands. “Surely there’s a way! There has to be something I can do!”
“Can you find the mountain kingdom?” he asked in a voice that would have been mocking if it wasn’t so gentle and full of love. “Can you find a place whose only direction is that it lies east of the sun and west of the moon? Can you tear me from the grasp of a queen who has spent two decades consolidating her power? A queen who spends half her time as an enormous bear?”
“Yes,” Charlotte sobbed. “I can do anything! I will do anything to free you. I promise!”
He stared deep into her eyes, his breath coming ragged and fast.
“Lottie,” he finally groaned and yanked her toward him.
For one breath, his blue eyes devoured her face. And then his lips descended on hers.
There was nothing soft about his kiss. It was demanding and possessive and burned with the longing of all their weeks together.
She melted against him, glad for his strong arms pressing her close. She didn’t want the kiss to ever end. She couldn’t accept that he was about to be ripped from her.
But too soon he pulled back, gazing hungrily down at her face again. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted to hold you like this? To gaze human face to human face?”
“I’m sorry!” she wailed. “All I wanted was to see your face once.”
“If only you’d waited!” he cried in tones of fresh anguish. “Do you know how much self-control it took to lie beside you each night—my wife!—and keep my distance? But I endured it in the hope of a future where I could stay by your side night and day in my true form. If only you could have waited as well, then that future could have been ours. But now everything is destroyed!”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, sobbing in earnest now. “I’m sorry. I love you, Henry.”
He stilled, only the muscles in his arms jumping in response to her words. His face softened as he gazed down at her.
“I love you, too, Lottie,” he murmured, and then he was gone.