Kat had a very strange night's sleep. In her dreams, she and K danced in the portrait hall of the Beast's castle to a melody that went on forever. His arms were around her, strong and protective and she felt safe, cherished and wanted.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she was not alone. And her heart sang as he tightened his hold on her, spun her in the rhythm of the music.

Except when she looked into his eyes, there was nothing but witness. Death. The face of a giant wolf.

She'd awakened with a scream and trembling hands. She was so silly, her mind so weak. Of course it wasn't K. It was the Beast and the dream had been caused by their interaction the previous night.

Her entire body burned with embarrassed. So much so that she contemplated not getting out of bed at all. But she couldn't waste another day, couldn't willingly create the premises for another similar occurrence.

And in the end, curiosity won over the embarrassment. So she got out of bed, put on her clothes and headed down the staircase.

She listened intently for any sign of movement, but there was none. So she went to the kitchen, prepared breakfast, left it outside his work room, then resumed her duties.

By the time lunch rolled around, the breakfast tray remained untouched. She replaced it with the lunch tray and headed back to the kitchen. What was he playing at? Didn't he claim to want her cooking? Why wasn't he having it?

But, as it turned out, he didn't have lunch either. As the sun set and darkness settled over the castle, Kat found herself in front of his door again, picking up a full tray.

The Beast had said he wanted to have dinner with her that night. But did he?

"Do you have any idea where he is?" she asked, turning to Joey's portrait for answers.

He just shrugged. "You're better off without him at the moment, trust me."

"He said he wanted to have dinner tonight."

Joey's eyes widened. "Did he now?" His lips curved into an all-knowing smile.

"What does it matter if he's not here and I'm better off without him?"

Joey waved his gloved hand, dismissing his earlier affirmation like it was nothing. "If he asked, trust him. So go get ready."

A part of her wanted to yell at Joey, demand more answers. The other part was morbidly curious of how it would be. Would they eat in silence or have a conversation? A proper one. She would get to find out soon enough. It was up to her.

So she headed back to the room and for the first time, decided to indulge in the massive dress collection in her wardrobe. She picked out a yellow dress which was a tiny bit more formal than what she usually wore. It looked good on her, and the thought startled her a little. Who had it belonged to before?

But she pushed away the thought and hurried down the stairs, into the kitchen, determined to gain something from this evening.

Cooking dinner was easy as pie since she had marinated some game meat a few days ago. Into the oven with more spices and potatoes and she was good to go. While the meat cooked, she whipped up a salad and a pudding and then wondered why she'd decided on the yellow dress.

She looked like a chicken. Golden hair, golden dress... She should go change back into her simple blue dress and white apron and look like the servant she was, not like a vaguely rich country bumpkin showing off her narrow waist and full chest.

She'd been wealthy as a little girl, but she'd spent more than half her life foraging for food, so she'd forgotten what that was like.

"Are you done?" The Beast announced his presence as graceful as ever.

She jumped and turned around. He remained in the shadow of the staircase, just a silhouette shrouded in mystery. It was annoying, but she found herself envying him. She wished she could stay hidden as well.

"Almost," she answered, regaining her composure and checking the oven. "I'd say ten more minutes."

He just studied her from the doorway, his cloak back on, draping his body. It only made her think more about what was underneath. A wave of heat rose to her cheeks and she decided to take the food out earlier. He probably liked his meat rare anyway.

"That dress looks nice on you," he supplied as she busied herself arranging the plates. "The cut, not so much the color."

"I look like a chicken," she mumbled. "Not my best choice." The moment the words were out, she realized he'd just complimented her so she whipped around and stared. "Did you just...?"

He was silent, the wolf head slightly tilted. It took him a few seconds to shake out of his stupor. "What?"

The heat in her cheeks intensified at the lost quality of his voice, as if he really hadn't been paying attention, too busy with...

"Were you just staring at my cleavage?"

There was a second's hesitation before he shook his head too fast, the fur of his cheeks moving madly. "Of course not." He didn't sound very innocent either, but he still stalked to her and she fought the impulse to step back. He was so tall and imposing. For a second, she was sure he'd wrap his arm around her waist again and hated herself for actually wanting it.

He was terrifying. He should stay away.

He didn't touch her, just whisked away the fuller plate. The moment he stepped towards the door, a sinking feeling grabbed hold of her, something that felt annoyingly like disappointment.

"We're not eating here," he said over his shoulder and headed up the stairs. "Come on!"

She picked up her own plate and hurried after him, wondering if he'd take her to his work room to eat in front of the fire. It turned out the answer was no. At the top of the stairs, he opened a small door to his left and disappeared inside an entirely different room, one which Kat hadn't gotten the chance to explore yet.

It turned out to be a huge dining room with a table that looked big enough to sit fifty people, surrounded by high back chairs. A fire burned in an elaborate fireplace in the middle of the wall to her left and right in front of her, there were ceiling to floor windows reflecting the night sky. She couldn't see other furniture because except for the fire and two candelabras near one end of the table, the room was drowned in darkness.

"It would have been much nicer if the place had been clean, but oh well." He dropped his plate on the table, right outside the circle of light left by the candles. There was a pitcher of wine and a glass in front of one of the chairs so she guessed that was the seating plan.

She ignored his comment and sat down, taking in the dust on the tablecloth. "You could have at least shaken this out. I'm sure your arms wouldn't have fallen off."

"We're being snarky now, are we?"

"You're one to talk." Once he'd disappeared in the darkness, he sounded a lot more relaxed, obviously content with seeing without being seen.

"Insanely brave," he muttered. "Bon appetite."

She nodded and started on dinner, her stomach rumbling with anticipation. By the sound of it, he was also eating, and using cutlery on top of it. She fought the impulse to ask of he had any claws. Or just casually move the candlestick closer to him.

"So, how will you bring me news of my father?" she asked instead.

"Easy. I shall ride into your village on my white horse and ask around until I am pointed into the direction of your house. Then, I shall have tea with him and enquire about his health and disposition."

Her cheeks caught fire. "You don't have to be an ass."

"And you don't always have to be so curious. I have my ways."

"I was merely making conversation. I thought you would appreciate that."

"Why would I appreciate empty talk?"

"For a duke, you certainly lack manners."

There was a pause from his end. "Who ever said I was a duke?"

At that moment, Kat realized her faux pas. The last thing she wanted was to get Joey in trouble, so she presented the only other believable alternative. "There are rumors in the village, you know."

"Really?" He sounded amused. "And what do they say about me? What do they call me? And abomination? A monster? A creature?" His voice became more bitter with every word. "What do you call me in your thoughts?"

She bit her lip, hating the turn of the conversation. Because as frightening as he was, the name was harsh.

"Come now. Where's your insane bravery now?" His tone was once again light, but she could sense an underlying sadness.

She cleared her throat. "I call you Beast to myself."

Silence followed her words, then he huffed in amusement. "Fair enough. I am a beast, if you know what I mean."

She didn't, but someone huffed from the shadow, obviously not impressed with whatever hidden meaning was supposed to be there.

"Smooth," Joey's voice said from somewhere behind the Beast. "And you're wondering why you've been alone for years."

"Shut up, Ashley," the Beast mumbled.

The name stirred something in the back of Kat's mind, but at the moment she was a little startled by Joey being there in the first place. Had the Beast brought him in to keep them company?

"He can move between portraits," the Beast supplied as if reading her mind. "I certainly didn't want him intruding on dinner."

"Someone should. You've clearly lost your mind, throwing innuendos like that across the dinner table."

Innuendos? What was Joey talking about? It wasn't like the Beast had said anything inappropriate.

"Thank you, Joey," the Beast said in a perfectly polite tone. "She clearly hadn't picked up on that until you decided to point it out."

Kat shrugged. "I still haven't. I don't understand what you meant."

"You really need to practice your manners," Joey muttered.

"It was a joke," the Beast said, obviously talking to her this time. "Forget about it. You just set me up for it. I'm actually glad you didn't get it."

"It's not my fault I don't know your name," she pointed out. "I don't even know if you have any other--" Her thoughts screeched to a halt as she finally understood the meaning behind his words. She'd heard that phrasing before, down by the docks.

Her face caught fire and she placed her cutlery down, taking in controlled breaths. Her mind churned on merrily, supplying her with all possible alternatives of what his body might look like, how that influenced his prowess and turned him into the beast he claimed to be. She took a quick sip of wine to distract herself.

"Yuck!" She pushed the glass away. The thing was a little sour and left a harsh sensation on her tongue.

"Yuck?" the Beast asked, outraged. "This is a very fine wine."

"It's sour and gravely!"

He let out a sigh. "Honestly, I look at you in that dress and with your hair braided and that delicate face of yours and I forget. I forget you're not a noble. You should know these things."

"What things?" she asked startled. She was so used to always being the smartest person in a room, his chastising caught her off guard.

"What fine wine tastes like, even if you don't like it. The music of the classics, culture, history, geography... Matters of politics."

Kat gawked. She may not have been a noble, but even she knew those were things noble men studied, not women. Except for the wine and music thing, women focused on sewing and finding husbands. Maybe riding on hunting trips if they were brave enough. Singing and dancing. Not history, definitely not politics.

"I should supply you with more complex books, ones meant to teach you something, not just entertain."

She nodded because she liked the sound of that. "I want to learn."

He groaned for some reason. "I guessed you would. You will finish cleaning before dinner, make dinner, then retreat to your chambers and read the material I provide."

"Are you attempting to indoctrinate me?" The words had come out a lot more playful than she'd intended and she cringed. She wasn't being cutesy.

He pauses for a fraction of a second before saying, "I'm merely supplying you with reading material. Your opinion will be hour own." He paused again. "Then we may discuss it and see what you took out of it."

"You want to discuss it with me?" It was shocking, but in the best way possible. She was so eager for intelligent conversation.

"Unfortunately," he growled.

Even that rude affirmation didn't manage to put a damper on her excitement. So it felt entirely too disappointing when his chair scraped the floor and he stood.

"Retiring already?"

Her words stopped his progress towards the door. For a moment, there was silence, then his steps returned and  stopped behind her. The temperature in the room seemed to drop all of a sudden as she realized she might have said the wrong thing. She stiffened once she felt his hands on the back of her chair. She fought not to shudder.

"The best part about being the master of the castle is that I can do anything I please."

His voice was low and too controlled, as if he was trying to keep something back. Kat was overwhelmed by a sudden need to turn, but she knew she shouldn't.

He bent lower and came so close, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. Her entire body shook. She half expected a cold nose to touch her skin. It never did, though she felt he was close enough that it should.

"Thank you for dinner, sweetheart. It was delicious." And with that, he pulled away and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

It left her shivering, her plate still half full. What had just happened?

"Well, that was new," Joey mumbled from the shadows.

"Wha--?" She couldn't even finish the question, her mind still trying to wrap around how close he'd come to her.

He hadn't touched her, but somehow, it had felt so intimate. It had thrilled and scared her at the same time. And she hated him for it, for this effect he had on her. She should be disgusted, terrified. Instead, she was mystified.

"Give him some time," Joey said. "He's still figuring it out."

Kat nodded automatically and downed the rest of the too sour wine. She had no idea what he was figuring out, but his behavior was killing her.

This used to be part of the previous chapter, but I decided for some new content in between. So here you go. Hope you still enjoyed it.

Someone is starting to interact more. Which should prove interesting soon.

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