"Here, I think you'll like this," the beast said as she left a novel on the arm of his chair. They sat side by side in the library now, companionship replacing the uneasy truce they'd called on his first visit to the library. "What are you reading?" She asked, peering over his shoulder as the illustrations in his book caught her eye. Her veil had dropped over his arm and Beau was alarmed to realise he couldn't feel it. Was any part of her corporeal? Solid? Or was he living with a ghost as well as a beast.

"A Study of 17th Century Dance," he replied, his ears colouring ever so slightly as he wished he'd picked up a book on politics, or the classic novel he'd been reading yesterday.

"Oh," she said, drawing back so that she could move instead to his side. "I can't remember the last time I danced. Can I look with you?" She had sat herself on the floor at the arm of his chair, veiled head hovering just above his knee.

"Um.. Sure," Beau replied, tilting the book so that she had a clearer view.

She sighed happily, taking in the images.

"Did you used to dance a lot?" The steps and terminology were so foreign to Beau that he felt as though he was looking at a text in a different language. Louis and Gabe had attended raucous dances in bars when they had lived in town, but he couldn't imagine his brothers doing anything as refined, or skilled, as the steps set out in the book before him.

"All the time," her voice carried a sunny lightness he hadn't heard her use before. "We had more balls than breakfasts," she laughed softly, moving a skeletal, grey-skinned hand forward to skim the illustration on the page.

"What's this one then?" Beau asked, eager to encourage this new lightness.

"It's a gavotte," she sighed again. "It was one of my favourites. We used to stand in big long lines, filling the entire ballroom. But the dance itself was done in pairs. Oh the relationships that started on that dance floor! Have you never danced it before?"

Beau shook his head. "I've never even seen these before, let alone danced them. If it hadn't said so on the front cover, I wouldn't even have realised it was a dance."

"Come on," the beast said, getting to her feet. "Stand up, I'll show you."

Nervous that he was about to make a fool of himself, but unwilling to disappoint her request, Beau put the book to one side and stood up.

He faced the beast in the centre of the library.

"Don't look so terrified!" She chided him. "All you have to do is copy me. We can do it facing each other to start with. Now, hold your arms like this." She held her hands out loosely at her sides, slightly raised. The fabric of her grey dress shone beneath the midday sun streaming through the window.

Beau tried to mimic her posture. Her legs were shoulder length apart, the toes of the right one pointed towards him. "Well done," she told him. "Now copy my movements. I'll take it slowly, don't worry."

They began. The dance was slow and stilted; Beau was by no means a natural and could only copy steps after he had seen them a few times. They moved towards each other, then away, circling slowly.

After a few minutes, Beau started to relax. He could do it - sort of. He started to imagine music filling the air, accompanying their steps. Around him, the library stacks became courtiers, all mimicking the steps as they stood in lines, filling the dramatic ballroom he had passed last week.

He'd never been happy in town; never felt that he could be a part of the bustling, vibrant community it offered. But here, in the ballroom of his imagination, he was pleased of the company, of the joy and mirth that he pictured there. A smile on his lips, he stepped to the left, then the right, his eyes glued to her feet so that he didn't go wrong. But they had done this bit before, and he was delighted to realise he could remember it! His raised his eyes, gleaming, to the beast's and the ballroom emptied again. They became the only people in the vast universe; playing at courting lovers in a dusty library. And their solitude was even better than the imaginary-company. For the first time in his life, Beau felt as though he fitted somewhere. Strange though it might seem, imprisoned in an empty castle with a beast; this was the closest Beau had ever been to belonging.

The thought jolted him from his steps; he moved right when he should have gone left and his outstretched leg sent the beast reeling.

"Whoa," he called, spinning around to try to grab her before she fell to the floor. His attempts at rescue were as successful as his dancing and they ended up in a heap on the solid library floor; limbs tangled, Beau's arms still around the beast's waist. Their heads were only inches apart. They were both breathing heavily; Beau could see the exaggerated rise and fall of the beast's chest beneath her shroud.

They remained that way for a moment as their breaths slowly calmed.

"I don't... I... I can't remember the last time I felt someone touch me," the words were spoken so softly, so sadly, that Beau wanted to draw her further into his arms. But the beast moved backwards, forcing space between them.

Beau was startled to realise that he was no longer shuddering every time he looked at her, as though the illusion was losing its effect through familiarity. It was still there, but the sight of those ghostly eyes, the death veil, no longer chilled his blood.

"What do you see?" She asked softly, hugging her arms around herself, where his had been only moments before.

He considered her question for a moment before responding. "My friend," he replied at last. "When I look at you, I see my friend."

She stood up, turning away to conceal her reaction, and sat down in the chair he had vacated before their dance. She pulled her legs up, tucking them beneath her. Beau felt his chest ache with pain at her sorrow. He got to his feet and sat down in the chair opposite her.

"What's the worst thing anyone has ever seen?" he asked softly, after a minute passed without either of them saying anything.

She was quiet for so long that he didn't think she was going to respond.

"I had a maid who was afraid of spiders," she said at last.

"So you appeared as a giant one?" Beau promoted when she didn't say anything further. He was worried that they were straying into difficult territory and he didn't want to upset her again as he had in the rose garden. He wished they could recapture the light, easy mood of their dance.

The beast shuddered. "Worse than that. I wish it was only that."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, before elaborating. "I was a nest. Roughly human in shape, but a bundle of wicker branches. And weaving in and out of them were the spiders. Some the size of a fist, others no more than tiny dots. All of them alive; scuttling across my body, dipping in and out of view as they burrowed inside my organs. The way she described it, I could feel their featherlight touch as they crawled across my body. I couldn't sleep for weeks without feeling my body come alive with thousands of skittering creatures every time I closed my eyes. The maid who described them had been my closest friend while I was human, but she never returned to the castle after telling me what she saw. I stopped asking the question after that."

They sat in silence for a moment; Beau knew she would rebuke any kindness he attempted to offer and didn't know how to change the conversation.

"Beau," she said at last. He didn't think he'd heard her say his name before and was startled by the sound of it. "I've been doing some reading. There is a loophole in the blood bloom's curse," the words came out as a rush, her eyes lowered to the floor. "In the same way that you took your father's place when you came to the castle, I think I could take your place as prisoner here. It would allow you to return home to your family."

"But what about you?"

She laughed, the sound strained enough to make him wince. "I'm stuck here anyway, looking like this. It will hardly make a difference."

"But you would be alone," he replied softly.

That fake, too loud laugh echoed through the room again. "I've survived this way before. Besides, I'm hardly alone," she added, gesturing to the door to the library, which had just swung open, allowing a tray of afternoon tea items to float into the room.

They remained silent as the tray was laid on the table between them, waiting until the door closed with a soft click before speaking again.

"But-" Beau started to protest, but the beast cut across him.

"Take these with you," she reached into her pocket and pulled out a delicate, silver mirror and a golden ring. "The mirror will allow you to see what is going on in the castle and turning the ring three times will return you here immediately. So," she laughed once more, forcing a lightness into her tone, "If you feel like you miss me, you can check the mirror to make sure that I'm available before popping back for dinner."

She thrust the items into his hands and swept from the room before he had a chance to respond.

Beau started down at them incredulously. He could go home; but the offer had come at the moment when he was beginning to question exactly where home was.

{I'm sorry this chapter is so late! It proved really tricky to write and took a lot of attempts. I hope you like the finished product. Please vote and comment to let me know what you think.}