The Eye of the Beholder by Elizabeth Darcy

her to its true horrors.
    Sleep was impossible during her first night of residence in the castle. In spite of my many hopes and preparations, I had not truly thought that she would be the one to come to the castle. It struck even me as incredible that her father would have willingly surrendered her to such a fate. He had seemed a decent man and, in my experience, decent men did not willingly surrender their daughters to peril. Yet, what other explanation for it could there be? I supposed I should have been grateful for this turn of events, but I could not overcome my sense of wonderment. Perhaps, in some small corner of my mind, I had hoped that her father would be the one to return, for that would have been far less fraught with complications, frustrations, possibilities.
    The fates continued to mock me. Here was the maiden who was my only hope, and for one of the rare occasions in my life, I feared what stood before me. Perhaps I should simply ignore her presence, keep to myself, and pretend she did not exist. But I knew I would not do this. Now that she was in the castle, I felt compelled to try to change what I had been convinced was my inevitable demise. This was the true perversity of my nature.
    My mind wandered from these thoughts to thoughts of the maiden herself. During the last fortnight, my temptation to use the pool to gaze upon her had not abated, but I had not allowed myself to look, for I had not been certain it would be she and not her father who came. But now that she was here, I felt an inordinate sense of curiosity, and I knew that I would soon have to satisfy it or I would run mad. I did not fear that I would be unable to gaze upon her without her notice; rather, I feared what I might see. Until now, she had been nothing more than a figment of my imagination, and I was reluctant for her to become flesh and blood for it made my predicament all the more real. But how could I not wish to see her? Though she did not know it, this maiden might very well hold my fate in her hands.
    Night turned to day and, a few hours after dawn, one of my servants entered my chamber. His trembling hands indicated that he was agitated, and I barely acknowledged him before summarily dismissing him. I knew what his presence meant, for I had ordered my servants to inform me when the maiden was up and moving about the castle.
    There was no need for anyone to lead me to her, for I knew I would quickly be able to find her through the use of my animal senses. As always, they did not fail me, and it was not long before I caught the soft sound of her slippered feet upon the marble floor and smelled the evocative lavender scent of her skin and hair. Her scent gave me pause, and I caught myself sniffing the air eagerly. So much time had passed since there had been a female presence in my life other than my female servants, who may as well have been invisible to me. I let out a very low growl at my thoughts, and then pushed them aside as I continued silently through the corridors, stopping a short distance from her.
    Concealing myself in the shadows, I peered out at her and was astonished by what I saw. In spite of her pale and drawn air, she was beautiful, far more beautiful than I would ever have expected her to be. It occurred to me that it was strange for me to think her beautiful, for my previous definition of beauty had been something very different from that upon which I now gazed. I told myself that this was likely because it had been so long since I had last had seen an actual woman in the flesh, but I did not think that this was truly the reason for it. Refined beauty had once pleased me, but I had always sensed that such beauty was surface beauty, and that the women who possessed it worked very hard for it. The beauty of the maiden that now stood before me was entirely natural and completely unspoiled, and I sensed immediately that she was very much unaware of this fact.
    She was small and delicate, with exquisite bone structure.