“I’m glad you think so,” he returned just as softly. “I kept quiet, trusting your expert guidance, but the feel of this place—”
I spun toward him and saw vines wrapping around his waist. His eyes were wide with shock.
“Father!” I flew toward him, tugging at the vines, but they didn’t budge. More crept toward him, starting a slow familiar shuffle I knew would pull him into the estate. He read the fear on my face and tried to reassure me.
“Stay here, Benella. I’ll return soon. This is only my first offense.”
I kept pace with him, but the vines tugged him up into the treetops and out of my sight.
“Don’t follow me,” he called in warning. “You’ve trespassed too many times already.”
Ignoring his warning, I spun and ran blindly toward the gate. Panting, I arrived to hear it creak open, barely able to make out the mist shrouded bars before me.
“Please,” I begged. “My father didn’t mean to trespass; he was only following me.”
A growl started in the dark mist to my right, and I knew the beast waited for me.
“You refused me?”
Concerned about my father, I frowned in confusion before I realized what he meant. The trunk. I played as if I didn’t understand. If the beast continued talking to me, he wouldn’t be able to toss my father over the wall.
“If I recall, I did not refuse your last request of me. I still have the shirt to prove it,” I answered, still slightly out of breath.
“The trunk,” he said.
“The trunk someone left for my sister, Blye? What of it?”
“The offer was meant for you,” he said in a deceptively soft growl that unnerved me.
His direct answer surprised me.
“Me? Why would I need all that cloth? I don’t sew. Blye does.”
“You wanted a shirt. I offered the means to own several shirts.”
I didn’t know what to say except, “Why? Why did you offer for me?”
“You need not concern yourself with that,” he growled his frustration. “Will you assent?”
“I cannot.”
Birds in nearby trees screamed in protest at his rage filled roar and took flight in a rush of a dozen flapping wings.
“Only a few days ago you lay on the ground, telling me you cared not whether you lived or died. Holding so little value to your life, why not agree to my offer?”
With effort, I kept my voice soft and even to hide my fear.
“Value is an odd thing, subject to whim. What one might find value in, another might not; what has value today might not have value tomorrow, depending on the wants and needs of the evaluating individual. You prove this yourself with the same example you just provided. Several days ago when I lay on the ground indifferent to what fate might decide, you were not so interested in me. The issue is that neither of us understands the reason why we changed our minds.”
He remained silent, perhaps thinking I had more to say on the matter. I didn’t want to push him any further though, so I let what I said linger in the quiet for a while before speaking again.
“My father?”
“Is unharmed,” he spoke softly just behind me. My stomach twitched in surprise, but I managed to quell any other reaction to his unexpected nearness.
“May I have him back, please?”
Gently, he touched the back of my head, a single stroke of my hair from crown to the tip of my braid, which ended mid-back. He lifted the braid and tugged on it slightly. I held still before him, listening to my great gusting breaths as I remembered the last time he’d touched me when I’d thought him a pile of furs.
“I will return him to you whole and healthy in hopes that you may yet change your answer, Benella,” he said as his fingers threaded through my hair, loosening the braid.
As soon as my hair fell free, he disappeared.
After a few moments, I heard the rustling of leaves above, and the mists lifted enough that I spotted Father trussed up in the vines high above. As soon as he spotted me, he went from looking intrigued to looking worried.
“Go, child!” he called in an urgent hush. The vines began their stretching descent to bring him to the ground. “I just heard the beast’s roar and know he must be near waiting for me. You shouldn’t have come inside the wall.”
I remained despite his urging to flee. When his feet touched the ground, the vines loosened and then shrank away.
“What an amazing journey,” he said, watching them for a moment before remembering where we were and the imminent threat of the beast.
“This way,” I motioned him to follow before he could say anything. We walked through the gate, which slammed closed behind us with a metallic clang.