Bryn tossed the dishes in the dry sink and hurried after Blye into their room. I ran my fingers through my hair before tugging it into a semblance of a braid, as usual. After Father returned, my sisters emerged from their room, looking fresh and well-groomed. Despite her illness, Bryn did not look as thin as the rest of us and still managed a healthy glow.
"Benella, can you carry these in your bag?" Father asked, plucking seven thin volumes from his shelves. Two were regarding the rudimentary teachings of mathematics, which I doubted Father even referenced anymore given his familiarity of the material due to repetitive teaching. Three regarded beginning reading and writing. The other two were rare pieces pertaining to flora and fauna. I didn't want to see them go.
"Did you procure a wagon?" Bryn asked, smoothing her dress.
Father gave her a flat look, and she dropped her gaze. The twit. We were selling his books because we had no coin. How exactly could he afford to pay for a wagon?
* * * *
Ahead, I spotted a familiar curve in the road clogged with a thick, unnatural fog. We were close to the place where I'd cut through the woods to go to the estate when I'd still traded with the beast. How long had it been now? Almost two weeks?
"Father," I began anxiously. "Doesn't it seem a bit too warm for patches of fog?"
"It depends," he said absently, his breathing slightly labored. Typically a sedentary man, the long walk after just recovering from illness taxed him. "There may be cooler water hidden under the trees causing it."
The fog loomed closer, and I blinked at it, trying to determine if we were walking faster or if the fog crept toward us. Still several feet away, I caught a slight movement within the mist. Before I could call out a warning, hundreds of vines shot out, wrapping around us.
The thick fog consumed us, hiding us from one another. I heard my sisters cry out, and my father call our names. I was unable to answer as a vine wrapped itself firmly, but gently around my mouth, effectively gagging me. I bit down on the vine to chew through it, but the acrid sap that ran into my mouth worried me, so I spat out what I could and remained mute.
The vines tugged us through the trees, up into the canopy, ever closer to the estate while the mist continued to keep us isolated. I heard the growing concern in Father's voice when I did not answer his calls.
Fear bloomed in my chest. Could I still try to claim refuge and would it work to protect all of us? How angry had my last departure made the beast? I felt the vines start to lower me and, soon, the mist retreated enough that we could see each other.
We all hung a few feet from the ground, tangled in vines. Bryn and Blye's eyes grew wide, and they began to struggle against their bindings when they saw we dangled inside the gate of the estate. Father calmly scanned the area, probably remembering his last harmless excursion behind the walls. The vines still binding my mouth worried me. I felt we would not leave this time without meeting the beast, and for a reason I couldn't guess, he didn't want me to speak.
The mist stopped retreating several yards away and then started to darken. Both my sisters began to cry. The pathetic mewling sounds had me pitying them and their fear. No one deserved to be tormented as the beast currently did to them. My eyes narrowed on the gloom, and I tried to speak around the vines, but it just sounded garbled.
"It would seem I have trespassers," the beast growled.
I snorted.
Father's face visibly paled, and he appeared to have lost his voice in the face of such menace.
"As the eldest, you shall take the punishment for the trespass, unless..."
I shook my head and attempted to speak past the gag, trying to tell the beast to stop his madness.
"Unless, what?" my father said.
"Unless one of your daughters agrees to stay with me," the beast said.
I ceased my struggles, seeing what the beast meant to do, the sneaky son of a-
"No," Blye wailed.
"It's not yet your turn to answer," the beast snapped harshly. "The eldest speaks first. It's only right I offer her the opportunity. And, she should be grateful I consider her at all when she's carrying a bastard child."
Blye's sniffles stopped, and she turned to stare at Bryn. We all did. Tears trickled down Bryn's face, her shame evident. The food hoarding, the moods, and the request for a wagon made sense now. Pity welled up for her, and I glared at the beast.
"Come now. Your turn to answer. I offer you the refuge of the estate in return for your immediate and complete obedience in every command I issue. And your father's life, of course."
Bryn sobbed and shook her head. Had my mouth not been full of vine, it would have popped open. How could she not save Father? My eyes fell to her middle. Of course she couldn't, and Father would never have wanted her to, knowing she carried his grandchild.
"Very well," the beast growled with little menace. "Good sir, you should consider marrying her to the first offer you can manage before the soon-to-be husband discovers her state."
Father paled further and would not look at Bryn.
"Now, the next oldest," the beast said without compassion. "Your father stands to pay the price for trespassing for each of you. As you are aware, he will be thrown from the estate. Once for each of you. How do you suppose he will fair after the second toss? Or third? Do you honestly think there will be much left to throw the fourth time?"
Blye's mewling cry won her no pity.
"Please grant us mercy," she sobbed.
"I am by offering you this chance to save your father's life. Agree to stay with me. You will have the finest silks you can imagine in return for your immediate and complete obedience in every command I issue."
She wailed and begged for several long minutes before rejecting his offer. Through it all, Father said nothing, his eyes growing more despondent.
"Now," the beast said. "For the youngest."
The vines slipped from my mouth as he spoke, and I interrupted him before he could go any further.
"Release me so we may speak face to face. I will not speak my answer to your cursed mist."
Immediately the vines flew from me, and I fell to the ground. Straightening, I looked at my sisters and Father. They all had fear in their eyes.
"Benella," my father began. "Do not give up your life for-"
A vine slithered up from his chest to muffle his words.
Bracing myself for a confrontation, I walked straight into the mist and stopped when I felt a tug on my hair. My stomach gave an odd flip.
"What is your answer?" he rumbled softly as his fingers worked the braid free.
The heavy mist surrounding us muffled all sound, no doubt to keep my family from hearing. Though it also hid the beast from my view, I recalled every fang and claw in detail.
"Your terms are a bit steep for what you are gaining, and I would like to propose three revisions," I said bravely.
"How can they be steep?" he asked. "You gain your father's life."
"Do I? How do I know? That is my first provision. I must be allowed one day every week to leave the estate. If I'm not allowed to see Father, it will be just as if he had died."
The beast grunted in response. I felt him lean in to breathe the scented oil still clinging to my hair.
"What is your next provision?"
"I will ignore any command for my silence."
He didn't deny my provision.
"And the final?" he asked, instead.
"You may not touch me without permission."
His growl started low and grew in fury.
"Unacceptable," he roared. He fisted my hair and carefully pulled me against him so the fur from his jaw abraded my ear. "Why even keep you, then?"
I licked my lips.
"That's something I have been asking myself for many weeks. You've asked me so many times and offered so many things. Each time, I've said no. If you can't accept my terms, you will kill my father, I'm sure. Your temper will see to that. But you will lose any future chance of coercing an agreement from me. That I promise you."
He grew completely silent. I held still, waiting for his reply. Faintly, I heard Blye's continued sobs though Bryn tried to hush her, no doubt trying to hear what we said.
"A year," he growled. "I will accept your provisions for a year."
"No," I countered. "My silence cannot be guaranteed, and I will not lose my family. As long as I'm with you, you will listen to me and let me leave one day a week. In return for your gracious benevolence, I agree to reduce the touching restriction to six months." I had to raise my voice slightly so he could hear me over his own cursing.