A Kiss like Roses: Fairy Tale Synergy Book 1 Read online

  “Perhaps,” he said, but his tone made it clear he didn’t much care either way. I clenched my fists. “You’re still not looking at me.”

  “I’m still a bit scared.”

  “How do I change that?”

  “Why would you want to?”

  “Humor me.”

  I tilted my head, unsure where this conversation was going, but a curiosity about the beast blended with my wariness, and I felt… almost safe. I had for a while now.

  Not that I’d open my eyes.

  “Maybe if you gave me a rose?” I managed, my breath catching, my heartbeat racing. Stupid, stupid question. But what else could I say?

  “What then?” He said, and I knitted my brows in confusion.

  “What do you mean, what then?”

  “What are you going to do with the rose?”

  “I—” Now who was the idiot? “Sell it, of course. Fifty million coins. Enough to buy a cure.”

  “You believe that?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You believe any of those stingy nobles would spend fifty million on a rose?”

  “It—It’s a symbol of power,” I said, although his words echoed my own doubts, which I’d subconsciously pushed away so I could dare dream.

  There was a beat of silence. I was grateful I couldn’t see the probable derision on his face.

  His voice even more mocking than it had been—a feat I wouldn’t have thought possible—he said, “Money is power. Prestige is just a tiebreaker for those of similar wealth and status. I assure you, not a single soul will pay fifty million for a rose.”

  “Why would they lie?”

  “Why wouldn’t they pretend they’re so wealthy they’d spend fifty million for a rose? None of them expect anyone to get one at this point. I doubt most of them even think it’s real. And, if by some miracle, someone showed up… They’ll take the rose, alright, but after that? The nobles may be the one group of people even better at disappearing people than I.”

  He… He was right. Everything he said felt disgustingly convincing, and though my stubbornness urged me to ignore him and snatch a rose home, I knew it was futile. My throat ached from sudden dryness.

  What had I come here for, then? Risked my life for? Hope was a mirage that had clouded me of my senses and logic. His words rang not only true, but so obvious I loathed myself for my foolishness.

  What could I do? Would the beast even let me go home? He seemed reasonable enough, but perhaps he was a cat toying with its prey before feasting on it, delighting in my discomfort and dismay before murdering me or whatever it was he did.

  “I—”

  Ignoring my feeble attempt at interjection, he pushed on. “Especially when their victims are those poor and desperate enough to enter a supposed beast’s den with a kitchen knife as a weapon, and foolish enough to discard it.”

  Hearing footsteps and a rustling movement, I gulped. In my panic, I’d all but forgotten about my sole means of defense, but of course it had been in the beast’s peripheral vision all this time.

  No doubt the beast was picking it up. Seizing it from me.

  I felt the beast grab me by my wrist, more gently than before. I jerked back, feeling the knife’s familiar wooden grip in my hand. Rubbing at it with my thumb, I felt the carved-in sigil of the knife-maker we’d bought it from, which confirmed my guess.

  “I… I don’t… I don’t understand.” My voice came out as feeble as my grip. My mind yelled at me to grab harder at the knife, to form a proper defensive pose, but to no avail. I was limp. Useless. And all this time, it had been shaking like a leaf in winter.

  “Well? What were you going to do with the knife? Show me.”

  “Wh—”

  Was this some test? If so, there was no doubt I was failing with flying colors. I didn’t understand what he wanted me to do. Attack him?

  “Go on. Would you rather meet the fate of all the other thieves before you?”

  “Are… you asking me to attack you?”

  “So, you did mean to use the knife against me,” he said, his tone almost smug. I resisted the urge to facepalm. Or worse, slap him. What had he expected? Of course, that was my reason. Did he think I brought it here to cook with?

  “No, sir, I meant to use it to cut the golden rose from the ground,” I muttered. Though I lowered my voice and tried to sound demure and sincere, the sarcasm oozed from every word I spoke. Apparently not having endangered myself enough, I added in an equally disgruntled tone, “You know. Magic roses and all. Maybe they’re… tougher than normal roses?”

  A biting bark of laughter. Then, “Something tells me you wouldn’t be able to harm anyone. Even in self-defense.”

  No, but it wasn’t like that mattered now, was it?

  “I just felt obligated to bring something to defend myself with. Does it matter what I can or can’t do with it?”

  “If you attacked me now, you could take as many roses as you want home.”

  “After your tirade about the nobles?”

  “There’s no reason for you to believe me, considering I’m the beast you’re trying to steal the roses from.”

  I hesitated before speaking, because the only words I had to say felt like knives plunging into my heart. “… I wish I didn’t, but your words make too much sense. You’re no beast at all, are you? I don’t know why you’re here alone, and I don’t know anything about your roses, but one thing’s clear. You’re just… a man.”

  My stomach somersaulted despite the consolations of my logical mind as I slowly, so slowly, opened my eyes. Before my eyes was—I gasped, seeing a striking white mask covering the upper half of his face—but, no matter the details, before me was a person.

  A man, with golden hair tied back into a loose ponytail at his back. He wore a silky but ill-fitting outfit with long sleeves covering part of his hands. Nonetheless, his outfit showed off his toned figure, shaped by a lifetime of training beyond limits.

  Made sense. Not much else to do out here.

  My trembling continued—but eased.

  I saw his eye lift as he raised a brow I couldn’t see. “What happened to thinking I’d mysteriously defeat you as soon as you looked at me?”

  “You’ve single-handedly destroyed my childhood innocence,” I replied. “Be proud, I guess. Or remorseful.” I gestured towards his mask. “Although who even knows? Maybe your mask is hiding a magical curse after all.”

  The man threw his head back to laugh. The sound felt strangely welcoming.

  “I only wear my mask to cover a hideous scar that I’d rather not show,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be convenient, though, if the mere sight of my face could incapacitate everyone? No more needing to worry about opportunistic thieves…”

  The way he accentuated his last word, and the way his eyes bore into me, roused anything but comfort. I swallowed.

  “Well, what happened to everyone else?” With my question came another, albeit one I didn’t have the courage to voice: what will you do to me?

  “It’s a large forest, and my mansion is well hidden,” he said, waving his arm in nonchalance. “I’ve only come across two dozen or so people, but the last thief said the missing numbered in the hundreds. Most people don’t find it here, I suppose, and they either die lost or fall prey to the wolves. Rumors grow by themselves, anyway. The missing number far fewer than whatever you’ve heard.”

  I nodded. “That’s not what I’m asking, though.”

  The man snorted. “I try to reason with anyone who shows up, like I’ve done with you, and send them back. They won’t speak about me, since they know others will brand them a coward. The ones who won’t leave…”

  He shrugged, then averted his gaze. “I tie them up and carry them deeper into the forest. I’m not sure what happens to them, but I bet it involves wild animals and fangs. Haven’t you heard?”

  Baring his teeth, he grinned almost maniacally, and I couldn’t tell if I was more terrified or mesmerized.

&n
bsp; “The beast is cruel, monstrous, and fiercely protective of his roses.”

  Chapter 4

  “But why?” I asked, too complacent from the conversation despite the dread that began knotting in my stomach. Just because he was outsourcing his sin didn’t make him any less complicit—and what he was doing was murder.

  All for some flowers.

  “Surely you can afford to share just a few,” I pressed on, taking the man’s silence as an opportunity to speak. “They’re only roses, no matter how beautiful or unique they are. You could get the same effect by painting some red ones you can find anywhere—”

  A snarl. Or I thought I heard one, although it’s possible I imagined it. My head snapped up, but the man’s eyes were unfathomable thanks to his mask, and his lips were sealed into a line.

  He took a deep breath.

  “If I gave out the roses to everyone who asked,” he said, each of his words punctuated, “I wouldn’t have any roses left at all.”

  “Well—at the very least, you don’t have to lead people to their deaths just for seeking a better life.”

  “The ones I send away are trying to steal from me, no matter how you dress up their actions with pretty poetry about their backgrounds. Why must I be gracious?”

  “B-because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “And stealing is, too?”

  I balked at his words, my hackles rising. “That’s not what I’m saying. The two are incomparable. The whole eye for an eye thing doesn’t work in a society—”

  “And that has nothing to do with me,” he snapped, “when I’ve been banished from society and live in this rotten forest with no company but my own thoughts.”

  Feeling my chest tighten, I grimaced. “You… live here alone?”

  But of course, he did. That was a stupid thing to realize, and a far stupider thing to ask. From the way his lips pursed even harder, I could tell he agreed.

  What had been taken as common sense before I’d humanized him in my mind now felt like a dire strait the man must be rescued from.

  Social isolation? For how many years? No wonder he’d gone mad. It doesn’t justify his… disdain towards others, of course, but it did help explain it, if only a little.

  “I’ve been here for half my life,” he whispered, almost so softly I didn’t hear it.

  My mind whirled, connecting the sparse dots I had. Were the golden roses perhaps the only company he’d ever had? And he personified them in his mind, giving them cute little names like they were pets to him?

  That was the only guess I had so far.

  Louder, he said, “It’s only in the past couple years that others have found me and approached me for my roses.”

  “But why?” I asked. “A mild scar on the face is nothing to be ashamed over. People may be shocked, but they’ll come to understand, even fancy—”

  The beast’s lips curved into a sneer, and his fingers tensed into a panther’s claws, poised for attack.

  Breath hitching, I scrambled back and felt my back crash against the fence’s metal bars. I swore under my breath at the spreading pain—and my potential impending death at the beast’s monstrous whims.

  His gaze wavered as he watched and heard me, and he made a noise that started like a sigh but twisted into a bitter laugh.

  “You,” he said, “have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  My certainty that I’d die here no matter what I did caused me to see stars—and roused in my stomach even more foolish stubbornness and bravery, which I’d no doubt regret when I was tortured for it.

  “Why don’t you explain, then? Tell me your sob story.”

  I cringed at the callousness of my own words, but it was too late to retract them.

  Besides, I was just a little petty. Far from leading me to a magical cure for my father as I’d hoped, the beast had only strangled my dreams of a better future—a future with my father. A thought I hated to dwell on, for I was as useless, and the future was as bleak, as I’d always known.

  At the very least, he could have sympathized about my father’s impending death. Instead, he’d mocked me. Why would he deserve only kindness and coddling?

  Rather than yelling at me for my insolence or hurting me, the beast cupped his chin and tapped his sandaled shoe against the grass as if he were contemplating what I’d just said.

  What the heck? Did he actually want to delve into his life story here of all places? Now of all times?

  I’d heard that people liked talking about themselves, but even so…

  This was so not the time or place for such things, particularly considering he was supposed to be some fearsome beast, not a pompous bum.

  I wondered if he were isolated here for a disfigurement of the mind, rather than one of the body. Which was horrible for him, but such things were known to happen, and it made more sense than the story he’d offered.

  “Give me five years,” he spoke, again in that soft voice that I had to strain my ears to hear.

  I blinked in confusion. “Pardon me?”

  “Stay with me for five years, and I’ll offer your father the cure.”

  “Uh…”

  I wish I’d said something elegant and poised, or at least grateful and curious, or… or shocked or something! But all I managed was that awkward, brainless noise.

  And then another: “Erm…”

  Gripping the metal bars behind me, I twisted around peer back through the gates; there had to be hundreds of people watching. This had to be some prank of sorts, although I had no idea for what cause.

  But all I saw was an endless field of trees and grass, and all I heard was the occasional whooshing of the wind and the beast’s and my soft heartbeats and breathing.

  I turned back to the beast.

  “Haha, um, um, um…”

  What had he just said?

  His expression was unfathomable through his mask, and I couldn’t tell if he was amused, annoyed, disappointed… or all of the above.

  It was his fault for being ridiculous.

  I barked out a laugh. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  “Are you acting stupid because you’re shocked or because that’s just the way you are?”

  “Excuse—” Oh, never mind, I didn’t care how much he insulted me. “A cure? How?”

  The beast didn’t quite look the part of a hero who could sweep in and save my family from all our problems. If anything, I would have to find ways to save him, considering he was quite the mess himself.

  “Where do you think this mansion came from? How do you think I’ve had the resources to survive?” He asked. “By birth, I… I was also a noble, although that was short lived.”

  I frowned. If there was one thing I knew without a doubt in my mind, it was this: nobles could not be trusted.

  If he hadn’t been raised by them, however, instead being abandoned here as a baby… Was he more victim than scoundrel?

  I’d see for myself.

  He spoke on. “My father told everyone I vanished mysteriously, and he prefers to treat me like I’m dead. But he must be salivating for a rose, too—and for me to continue keeping the family secret.”

  I wrung my hands. Bit my lip. I didn’t understand. This was too good to be true, but my heart thudded in my chest from a sudden resurgence of hope.

  “You’re willing to threaten your parents for me?” Please, strange man, utter more of your sweet, impossible lies.

  “It’s not for you,” he barked. “You’re a convenient scapegoat. Heavens know how long I’ve been waiting for something to demand out of them, and it’s difficult to find an excuse to burn so much money at once. Five million coins will break their bank, but not their livelihood.”

  I nodded, but I wasn’t listening. A smile was creeping up my face, and although I didn’t know how genuine he was or if his plan would work, it was more than I’d had mere moments ago.

  “How soon can my father receive the cure?” I asked. My chest bubbled with j
oy.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “And there’s no guarantee. But if he can get the cure, I reckon it’d be in the next half year.”

  I sobered a bit at that, knowing we had no idea how much time my father had—and even a day longer of his misery was too painful to think about. A couple months was nothing compared to the time my father had already lain in misery, but it still seemed an eternity.

  And yet… Any chance at his recovery was incredible. For a mere five years of my life? The deal was set. I didn’t even have to think about it.

  “When do I start, and what do I need to do?”

  “Again, I… don’t know,” he grumbled, ruffling his hair. “I haven’t a clue… It’s been so long…” Exhaling, he looked away.

  It didn’t take a genius to fill in the words he’d left blank. The man had been socially isolated for an eternity. How could he know how to make small talk with another person, much less delegate chores to them?

  “Housework?” I suggested, almost bouncing in place.

  The man frowned. “Why do you seem so eager? I feel like I’ve just volunteered for an eternity in prison, and it was my idea.” He sighed. “I have a couple warn… no, rules. One: you may never try to take my mask off. And, two: until the five-year period is over, you may not return home.”

  “What—” Clenching my fists, I glared up at him. “That’s ridiculous. How can I prove you’re fulfilling your end of the deal if—”

  “You may send letters home, as long as you don’t reveal where you are and how you procured the treatment for your father.”

  “Who are you to dictate what I can and can’t do?”

  He gritted his teeth. “I am your new master, and that rule is for our safety. If word gets out about you traveling to and from the forest, along with rumors about your father recovering from the misfortune, they’ll either assume I died or realize I’m only human. Mortal. And through trailing you, they can find out where I am.”

  I blanched. Unsure what to react to first, I opened my mouth to rebut everything at once, but he continued to speak, and I lacked the confidence in my own arguments to interrupt him.