Beauty and Beastly by Melanie Karsak

Author:Melanie Karsak [Karsak, Melanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: steampunk action, fairy tale, steampunk fantasy, adult fairy tale, steampunk romance, Beauty and the Beast, Fairytale, steampunk fiction, steampunk adventure, steampunk fairy tale, steampunk, steampunk series, fairy tale retelling
Publisher: Clockpunk Press
Published: 2017-12-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20: The Library

I don’t know how long I spent sorting through my notes, but when I took another sip of my tea it was cold. It was dreadfully dim in the dining room. Frowning, I lifted the papers, trying to see them in the last of the dying sunlight.

When I looked up, I realized the lord was standing there.

When had he arrived?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“So I noticed,” he said then motioned to my work. “You’re cataloging the symbols on the stones?”

“Yes. And the Ogham,” I said then shook my head. “But the light in here has finished the job for the day.”

The lord nodded thoughtfully. “Collect your things. I have somewhere better for you to work.”

Curious, I quickly tidied up my papers and journal and stuffed them back into my bag which he politely took from my hands.

“Come,” he said, motioning to me.

Grabbing the map, I followed him.

He led me from the dining room toward a section of the house I had not yet explored. As we walked, I noticed the beautiful oil paintings on the walls. These were not portraits. Instead, they were artistic renderings of fruits, flowers, animals, and even woodland scenes.

“These are divine,” I said, stopping to eye a painting of a bright red rose. The artist’s use of color and the perceived movement of the strokes reminded me of Van Gogh.

“The lady of this house was a gifted artist,” the lord said as he studied the painting as well. He sighed heavily then asked, “Is the paint still very red?”

“Red? Yes. Alive as can be,” I said then turned to him. “Your optics don’t detect color?”

“Not anymore. This was always my favorite painting. The red was arresting. Now all I see is black, white, and gray. My vision has become much like my mind.”

“I could have a look at your optics. Perhaps you have a short?”

The lord laughed. “That is very kind of you, Miss Hawking, but, it’s no use,” he said then turned and continued down the hallway.

I stopped once more when I spotted a painting of a dog on the wall. The artist was different. This hand had less artistic flow and more realistic symmetry. The dog in the painting had large amber-colored eyes. “This looks like Kelly,” I said.

The lord paused. His hands behind his back, he considered the painting. “The work of an amateur. But, yes, it does resemble an Irish Setter.”

“Not an amateur. The style is different from the other artist, but no less creative. The realism is perfect. Look, you can even see a shadow of the artist in the dog’s eyes. No. This is the hand of an observer. And an astute one,” I leaned in and studied the painting. I could see that the figure reflected in the dog’s eyes was male, but not more than that.

I looked up at the lord who was smiling.

“What?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Perhaps you are right, Miss Hawking. This way,” he said. He led us down several more corridors then, at the end of the hall, pushed open a set of wide double doors.

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