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Chapter 1c: The Forgotten Daughter
publish date:
2026-08-10 01:23:43He paled. "My lady"
"I'm joking." She wasn't
He lapsed into silence after that.
They traveled for three days. The landscape grew wilder, more untamed. The villages grew sparse. The roads grew rougher.
And then, on the evening of the third day, she saw it.
The tower.
It rose from the cliffs like a dark finger pointing at the sky. Jagged and ancient and impossible. It was magnificent.
It was terrifying. It was where she would either die or be reborn.
She felt something shift inside her. Not fear, exactly. Something stranger. Something that felt almost like anticipation.
She was going to face the beast. She was going to survive. She was going to prove everyone wrong.
Or she was going to die trying.
The carriage stopped at the base of the tower.
The soldiers opened the door. They didn't offer to help her out. They didn't offer to carry her trunk. They just stood there, waiting, their faces carefully blank.
She climbed out on her own.
The tower loomed above her. It was even more massive up close, its stones dark with age, its windows dark with shadows. The wind howled off the sea, whipping her hair around her face.
She took a deep breath. She gathered her skirts. She began to climb.
The soldiers didn't follow. They didn't offer to accompany her. They just stood there, watching, waiting to see if she would survive.
She didn't look back.
The stairs were endless. Winding and narrow, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps. She climbed and climbed, her heart pounding, her breath coming in gasps.
She was terrified. But she didn't stop.She reached the top. A massive door loomed in front of her. Dark wood, iron hinges, no visible handle.
She pushed it open.
And she stepped inside.
The great hall was dark and cold.
She could see the shadows moving in the corners. She could feel the beast's presence, ancient and terrible, watching her from the darkness.
She didn't run. She didn't scream. She stood her ground and said, "I'm not afraid of you."
A growl. Deep and primal, echoing off the walls.
She didn't flinch.
"Show yourself," she said. "I didn't come all this way to be hidden from."
The shadows shifted. A massive form emerged from the darkness tall, gaunt, gray-skinned like old stone. Horns curled from its temples. Its eyes were molten gold. Its hands were claws. Its teeth were knives.
It was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen.
And she didn't run.
She looked it in the eyes and said, "Is that all you've got?"
The beast blinked. Confused. Startled.
She said, "My family's been yelling at me my whole life. You're going to have to try harder than that."
The beast stared at her. It didn't understand. No one had ever stood their ground with it before. No one had ever looked at it without screaming.
It opened its mouth. It said, "Who are you?"
Its voice was rough, ruined, like it hadn't spoken in decades.
"I'm Margot," she said. "And I'm your new roommate."
The beast blinked again. "Roommate?"
She nodded. "The kingdom sent me as a gift. A peace offering. I'm supposed to soothe your rage and break your curse."
The beast's eyes narrowed. "And if you can't?"
She smiled. It was not a kind smile.
"Then I guess we're both stuck here."
CLIFFHANGER:
The beast roared in her face—so close she could feel the heat of its breath, the sharp edge of its fangs. She didn't flinch. She didn't close her eyes.
"Leave," it snarled. "Before I kill you."
She laughed. A cold, bitter sound.
"Kill me, then," she said. "I've been dead my whole life. What's one more death?"
The beast hesitated. Something flickered in its golden eyes—surprise, confusion, something that almost looked like... pain.
"You're not afraid of me," it said.
"No," she agreed. "I'm not."
"Then you're a fool."
"Maybe. But at least I'm a fool who's still standing."
She walked past him, into the tower's heart. She found the hearth—cold and dark for centuries—and knelt down. She lit the fire with her own hands.
The flames caught. The light filled the room.
And for the first time in two hundred years, the tower was warm.
She turned to face the beast. He was staring at her, his golden eyes wide, his claws trembling.
She said, "I'm staying, beast. Whether you like it or not. So get used to it."
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THE BEAST WHO LOVED ME Chapter 2a: The Morning After
Margot woke to the smell of smoke.Not the clean, sharp smoke of a fresh fire—this was older, heavier, clinging to the stones like memory. She opened her eyes and remembered where she was. The tower. The beast. The night before.She had fallen asleep on a worn chaise near the hearth, too exhausted to find a proper bed. Her gown was wrinkled, her hair a tangled mess, and there was ash on her fingers from lighting the fire.But she was alive. That counted for something.She sat up slowly, her body aching from the journey and the cold and the sheer weight of everything that had happened. The fire had burned low, embers glowing orange in the gray morning light. The great hall was empty.The beast was gone.She didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. She pushed herself to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself against the chill. Her breath misted in the air."Hello?" she called.Silence.She walked toward the door that led deeper into the tower, her footsteps echoing in the va
THE BEAST WHO LOVED ME Chapter 1c: The Forgotten Daughter
He paled. "My lady""I'm joking." She wasn'tHe lapsed into silence after that.They traveled for three days. The landscape grew wilder, more untamed. The villages grew sparse. The roads grew rougher.And then, on the evening of the third day, she saw it.The tower.It rose from the cliffs like a dark finger pointing at the sky. Jagged and ancient and impossible. It was magnificent. It was terrifying. It was where she would either die or be reborn.She felt something shift inside her. Not fear, exactly. Something stranger. Something that felt almost like anticipation.She was going to face the beast. She was going to survive. She was going to prove everyone wrong.Or she was going to die trying.The carriage stopped at the base of the tower.The soldiers opened the door. They didn't offer to help her out. They didn't offer to carry her trunk. They just stood there, waiting, their faces carefully blank.She climbed out on her own.The tower loomed above her. It was even more massive u
THE BEAST WHO LOVED ME Chapter 1b: The Forgotten Daughter
Her mother gasped. Her father sputtered.But Margot was already turning away.She walked to the door, her steps steady, her back straight. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her break. She would not give them the pleasure of her tears.She paused at the threshold."I'll go," she said quietly. "Not because you commanded me. Not because it's my duty. I'll go because I'd rather die in that tower than spend one more day in this house, being invisible to people who claim to love me.And she walked out.The night was cold.Margot sat in her room, staring at the single trunk she had packed. It was pitifully small—a few books, a worn journal, a small knife she had hidden for years, a change of clothes that were already faded and threadbare.She had nothing else.Nothing else to take. Nothing else to leave behind.Her sisters had rooms full of gowns and jewelry, trinkets and treasures. Margot had a trunk. A trunk that was barely half-full.She sat on her bed, her hands folded
THE BEAST WHO LOVED ME Chapter 1a: The Forgotten Daughter
The summons came at dusk.Margot knew it was coming before the servant knocked on her door. She had felt it in her bones all day that strange, heavy stillness that preceded disaster. The way the birds had gone silent in the garden. The way her mother had looked through her at breakfast as if she were already a ghost.She had been reading when the knock came. A worn volume of poetry, its spine cracked and pages yellowed with age. She closed it slowly, marking her place with a ribbon she had saved from her sister's discarded gown. Waste not, want not. That was what her nursemaid used to say. Before she was dismissed. Before Margot learned that nothing and no one in this house stayed forever.The servant's face was carefully blank. "Your father requests your presence in his study, my lady."Not requests. Demands. Her father never requested anything. He commanded. He expected. And the forgotten daughter, the third child, the one who had never quite mattered, was expected to obey."Te
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