Mrs. Beast Read Free Page B

Violet begins to screech and Daisy snatches the rose branch.   "I fixed those two."   Elora snaps her fingers and the image changes to the entrance of Castle Fleur de Coeur where Beauty's sisters stand as stone sentinels.   "Hey, Violet, Daisy--stat-chew?   Get it, Croesus?"   The hound wheezes a doggy laugh.
         Elora snaps her fingers again and the image expands to reveal Beauty traipsing toward the royal stables.   "She's on her way, Croesus.   How long it will take her to find us?   What obstacles lie in her path?   Will she have the endurance to make it?   I could find out by conjuring up the future, if I really wanted to."
         Croesus licks her face.
         "Yeah, you know I'm a liar, but I could intervene, help her just a tad."
         Croesus flops to the floor and groans.
         "Okay, I won't use magic.   Beauty deserves a chance to prove herself.   She is the only beauty in this neck of the woods who chose her prince instead of waiting to be chosen.   I have faith in her, Croesus, but the world is not kind to beauties.   And why is that so?   They aren't to blame for being born beautiful any more than they're to blame for the fawners and the jealous who make them helpless, vain, paranoid, and gullible.   The straight-up skinny, hound of mine? Love is not meant for beauty queens."           
    *       *       *
     

 
    Chapter Two
        
     
    Heigh-Ho
     
         The afternoon sun streams golden and hazy on the Royal Stable as Beauty teeters down the bridle path.   Daffodil-scented wind teases her chestnut curls when she pulls open the wide double doors.   Blockhead, the stable boy, lies on a pile of straw, picking his nose and wishing for a wife.   His imagination is focused on Jhoron, the cook's clever daughter: her long legs outwitting a chicken in the barn yard; her wiry arms swinging an ax; her joyous singing sailing out the kitchen window, across the court yard, and into the stable where Blockhead answers with a yodel.
         Beauty carries her portmanteau inside and stands beside Blockhead, awaiting his assistance.   Lost in reverie, he is oblivious.   Beauty politely steps into his field of vision.   His lumpish synapses impose the vision of Jhoron upon Beauty, and he lurches forward with a gummy grin on his broad jaw.   Beauty drops her portmanteau and jumps back. Blockhead trips over the bag and smacks his forehead against Vixen's stall.   The mare raises her silky white tail and drops three steaming road apples onto Beauty's riding boots.
         Blockhead grovels at Beauty's feet.   "Beg your pardon, Princess Beauty.   I thought you was somebody else.   Don't tell Prince Runyon.   He'll sack me sure and this is the only job I ever got, and Pa won’t take me in, he’ll kick my arse," Blockhead blubbers.
         "Please, stop blubbering and saddle Vixen."
         Blockhead scrambles to fetch the saddle.   "Where you going?"
         On a quest for love, Beauty thinks.   She then realizes she truly doesn't know where she's going, for she has no idea where Elora lives.   She takes the mirror from her portmanteau and holds it before her face.  
 
         
"Magic mirror,  
           I’m in distress.
           Show me the
          dwelling of Elora
          the Enchantress."
         Cinching the saddle, Blockhead surreptitiously peers over Vixen's rump.   The mirror's surface reveals a palatial structure of white stucco and soaring windows.   It sits atop a mountain of glass, sleek and clear as ice.   Beauty's brow furrows with perplexity and the mirror turns black.   "Blockhead?"
         He ducks and hides his face in Vixen's flank.
         "Do you know the way to a glass mountain?"   Beauty asks, placing the mirror back into her portmanteau.
         "Why, sure I do, Princess.   Sit yourself on this stool and I'll wipe the shit off your fine boots."   Blockhead buffs Beauty's boots