“It’s the Beast’s heart we’re concerned with,” Death continued. “Have you forgotten how he behaved when he was still a prince? Why, on the very day he was enchanted, he spent alms meant for the poor on a new carriage, made fun of a kitchen boy’s stutter, and ran a stag to death with his hounds. I would have turned the fool into a worm and crushed him under my boot, but you did not. Why, I’ll never know.”
“Because he deserves a second chance,” Love said. “Everyone does. My enchantress transformed the outer man to transform the inner. His suffering will teach him kindness and compassion. He’ll find his heart again.”
Death groaned in exasperation. “He has no heart, Sister! One cannot find that which never existed!”
Love’s eyes, bright with feeling, met Death’s. “You’re wrong,” she said. “I’ve watched him since he was a child. I saw what happened to him, how cruelly his father treated him. He had to hide his heart. It was the only way he could survive!”
Death waved a dismissive hand at her, but Love did not give up. Giving up was not in her nature. “Have you ever seen a bear made to fight off dogs in a village square for sport?” she asked. “Have you seen how it snarls and snaps? Pain, fear…they can turn you into something you were never meant to be. The Beast can change.”
“He’d better be quick about it. That rose of yours looks none too healthy,” Death said, nodding at the mirror.
It now showed a table in the Beast’s castle. Candlelight fell upon it, illuminating a single red rose suspended in a glass cloche. The rose’s head drooped. Withered petals lay under it. As Death and Love watched, another one dropped.
“If the Beast doesn’t succeed in winning Belle’s love by the time the last petal falls, he must remain a beast forever,” said Death. “You took a gamble, dear sister, on the human heart—a fool’s bet if ever there was one. Me? I’d wager a million louis d’or that the Beast fails.”
Love raised an eyebrow. “One million gold coins? You must be rich indeed if you can afford to lose such a sum,” she said, returning her attention to the chessboard.
Death smiled patronizingly. In a voice dripping with fake sympathy, she said, “I understand. You don’t want to bet. It’s too much money. You’re afraid—”
“Of nothing. Least of all you,” Love retorted. “Make it two million.”
Death’s eyes lit up. There was nothing she loved more than gambling. Just yesterday, she’d heard a young baroness on horseback say, “I bet I can jump that fence!” and a farm boy boast, “I bet I can swim across that river!” She’d won both of those wagers handily.
Love was the same way. The higher the stakes, the more impossible the odds, the more eager she was to up the ante. It was the one thing the two sisters had in common.
“That gold is as good as mine,” Death said. “Humans are selfish creatures who can always be counted on to do the wrong thing. Shall I tell you how the story ends? The Beast is horrible to Belle, she abandons him, the last petal falls. Fini.”
Love jutted her chin. “You have no idea how the story ends. You’re not its author. Sometimes kindness and gentleness win.”
Death snorted. “And sometimes unicorns gallop down rainbows.”
Love glared at her. “Three million.”
“Done!” Death crowed. “I’m going to win the wager, Sister dearest. Just you wait and see.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t win this game,” Love said, sliding her queen across the board. “Checkmate.”
Death’s smile slid off her face. She looked down at the board and saw Love’s queen standing in front of her own king. “What?” she said, shocked. “It can’t be!”
As Love and Death watched, the queen offered the king a kiss. Surprised by so sweet a mercy, the king embraced the queen. A second later, he crumpled to the board, a dagger sticking out of his back.
“And they say I’m ruthless!” Death exclaimed.
Smiling triumphantly, Love rose from her chair. She kissed her sister’s cold cheek and said, “Don’t get up. I’ll see myself out.”
Death sat perfectly still, glowering at the chess pieces. Her bishop looked up at her and started to shake. His knees knocked. A crack appeared on his painted face. Fuming, Death swept the pieces off the board. They shattered on the stone floor. Then she rose and walked to the mirror. Her expression, already sour, curdled as she watched the Beast and Belle—still enjoying their books, and each other’s company.