Pentimento: a dystopian Beauty and the Beast (19 page)

"I'd say you have to get used to it." Iris shot back, trying not to sweat.

"I wouldn't expect lesser from a girl who came here willingly," he tilted his head. Iris wondered if he actually saw her vividly from behind the curtain. Was it possible it was a two-way mystery? Maybe the Beasts didn't know that much about humans. Maybe they saw them as ugly, like Cody had told Zoe. Like a painter giving way to the brushes in his hands to draw the most compelling portrait, then lying to his audience, saying he'd done every detail intentionally. "Let's start with you. What do you think tells a dream from reality?" he asked.

"Dreams are mostly lies," Iris said off the top of her head. She never believed in the sleeping dreams. Daydreaming was called “hope” in her book. "Therefore reality is simply..."

"Truth," he considered, lacing his hands before what looked like his chin. He looked like a chess master, waiting for his opponent's next move.

Iris nodded, not fond of him interrupting her. Hell, she wasn't sure why she was still talking to him. She could just jump over and pull the curtain. Curiosity was killing her.

"Which will lead us to the ultimate debate," he said. "What is really considered 'truth?’”

"Truth is as clear as the sun," she almost sneered at him. "Once you pull the curtain before your eyes." She heard him let out a low groan. He'd gotten the message and was mocking her attempt to provoke him.

"'Once you pull the curtain before your eyes,'" he whispered, quoting her. "Eyes," he repeated. "Just like your name, Iris," he leaned forward, just a little. And for the first time she could see something was glittering behind the curtain. It was probably his eyes. They were a golden shade of green, like nothing she'd ever seen before. Again, neither scary, nor safe. "Do you judge everything through your eyes, Iris?" He said it as if it were “eye-ris.” "Is seeing the only road to believing in your book?"

"I wasn't given a pair of pupils for nothing." She didn't like the way he began cornering her in the conversation. She wasn't supposed to talk with Beasts. She was here to challenge them. "Unless you're ugly." She pressed her expensive shoes against the floor and gripped the dinner knife. "You'd prefer not to use your eyes in your judgment." Suddenly, she wasn't comfortable with his green eyes. She decided they leaned more toward being scary.

Master Andre didn't look offended. At least, no part of his silhouette showed it. He didn't say anything for a long time. The more his silence filled the room, the weaker Iris's grip felt on the knife, and on her own life. She let go finally. The Beast's calmness puzzled her and stripped her of all anger. To cover her weakness, she began eating again, not with her hands, but with a golden fork and spoon.

"I hope you like our food," he leaned back and began eating as well. "It's fresh, healthy, and tastes..."

"Unearthly?" she couldn't hold her tongue. It was a deserved pun. The food was devilishly delicious and she couldn't help but gorge on it. She told herself that she needed strength so she didn't feel guilty eating what she'd previously suspected to be human meat. Of course, it wasn't. Humans wouldn't taste so good.

"An older Master once told me that dreams are whatever you can escape by waking up," the Master said. "Truth, on the other hand, sticks to your soul. You can't wake up from it. That's why we need to dream actually, so we can balance our psyche."

You say
we
as if you are human," Iris noted.

"Maybe I was, once," he said, and finally she thought this was some kind of a hint. "Maybe I will be again." He destroyed all assumptions, and she couldn't help but think he was playing her.

Nothing was said for a while.

The sound of their chewing was painful to Iris's ears. She wasn't here to dine, yet there was nothing else she could do--and this damn food was irresistible. Iris suddenly forced herself to stop eating. She remembered the rose's scent. The food could be as devious. It might have an effect on her. "So is this what you do with all your Brides? Talk?" Iris slammed the knife back on the table. She was aware of her contradicting behavior, and it was alarming. Maybe she wasn't up to coming here willingly. The Beasts’ presence was stronger than she'd imagined.

"You don't like talking?" Andre said.

"Not with someone I can't see."

"I'm not sure you're ready to see me yet," he explained, with no hint of embarrassment.

Iris felt this strange sympathy toward him again, and it felt so wrong. But her Master's acknowledgment of his ugliness was far from monstrous. She sensed his misery in a most unusual way. I am so not myself today. What is happening to me? Did the towel do something to me?

"Are you very ugly?" she shrugged enough to feel a lump of air in her throat.

"What's the difference between ugly and very ugly?" he sipped his soup calmly.

Those questioning answers again, Iris. Is he messing with your mind intentionally, or is he just humble and hurt?

"I don't know." She gave up. Since she'd arrived, no one fought with her or resisted her, lowering all her defenses. How could you fight a Beast when he is not attacking you? And if he's not attacking you, should he still be considered a Beast?

"I don't mind looking at you, whatever you look like," curiosity was eating her alive.

"I don't mind looking at you either," another puzzling answer.

"So you know what I look like. You can see me clearly from behind the veil," she was making a statement.

"Oh, I know what you look like," he laughed. His laugh made her tremble. It was loud and hollow. Too confident. Too bossy. Suddenly, she understood her confusion. It was his contradictions that confused her. He ate like a monster, then wiped his mouth elegantly with a napkin. What kind of species did that? "I, and my fellow Masters, have seen you challenge us with the red rose in your hand. That was quite a show."

"Was that funny to you?" she squinted.

"Funny?" he seemed to think it over. "No. It was admirable. That's why I haven’t treated you like other Brides."

Iris heart sank into her belly. "What is it you do to other Brides?" she stood up. He did not fidget. "Do you hurt them?" He continued sipping his soup. Iris took a step forward, pondering the thought of attacking him. "What did you do to Zoe?"

The doors sprang open and the ghost girls entered. They held metallic rods with red lights in their hands.

The Master signaled them to a stop, standing up. He threw his napkin on the table and walked closer to the curtain. "I said you're not ready to see my face," he said firmly. "I like my words respected and honored. But I understand this is a new environment for you. You're away from home, and you're never going back. It takes time to believe it and cope with it, so I will forgive your misbehavior."

"You're in no position to forgive me," Iris's cheekbones tensed. "I'm not a Bride. I came here on my own." She heard the girls in white sigh and lower their heads, afraid she'd angered their Master.

The Beast took a moment again, before speaking. Secretly, she couldn't help but admire his stable posture and the silences he cherished before uttering a word. It was as if every word had to be calculated. Every word meant something, and he made sure it did. She saw him tap his fingers slightly on the table. "I'd prefer we end our dinner now. I like my Bride to be in a good mood."

Iris was going to object, but she was silenced by the warning hand he raised up in the air. She felt the urge to stop instantly. He wasn't fighting with her. He wasn't rude. And he didn't look like he was going to hurt her--at least, not now. His behavior made her snapping look ridiculous, even to herself.

"I advise you to go back to your chamber and clear your mind, then stare at the stars," he followed.

Clear my head and look at the stars, Iris thought. All this nonsense again. She stood silent as the girls circled her, and were about to drag her back to her chamber.

"I will see you again in a few thousand heartbeats," he said.

"Heartbeats?"

"We measure time by heartbeats here," he explained. "Because we cherish every moment in life. By a few thousand, I mean about four to five hours. I'd like to continue this conversation later."

"If you say so," Iris said. It was hard to tell if she was still playing fair until she learned enough about the Beast to find Zoe, or if she was really complying. She'd always been fascinated with Colton's personality, but this supposedly young and ugly prince exuded a calmness and grip over the situation like she'd never felt before. It was silly and unacceptable, thinking about him this way. Whatever they had sedated her with must have messed with her emotions. Iris gave in to the girls in white as they escorted her to the door.

"One more thing, Iris," Master Andre said before she left. "You need to know something before we meet again."

"I can’t imagine what that might be," she said flatly, pretending she wasn't impressed with his personality.

"We have some sort of a list we use in choosing our Brides," he said.

"How sick of you," she said.

"It's a very delicate list," he continued. "Each Bride has been chosen very carefully, in ways you could not imagine."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because next week's Bride was going to be you," he said. "I thought you should know, so we can get over this part about you challenging us. Your actions were daring and immensely admirably by the Masters, but let's just be open about the fact that I was going to have you next week, no matter what."

"Is that why you're treating me unlike other Brides?" Iris shrugged. "Because, according to your schedule, my time has not come?"

Silence again, for about a hundred heartbeats. "I'm still trying to figure that out." Master Andre said.

Back through the hallway, the girls escorted Iris toward her room. She didn't know why, but she stared at the stars beneath her feet again. Something felt so out of place. She wished she could figure it out.

Even though the girls were many, she seriously thought about escaping them to explore the ship. How hard could it be? She'd been escaping the android guards at school for a long time. She let the girls walk her as she glanced over, trying to see anything that made sense. There was nothing. All white walls, all the way. If she was going to escape, she needed a direction to run to and hide.

Where are you Cody? She thought. Would he have a way to hack the Beasts?

A silver device in one of the girls’ hands beeped. The girl held it up at eye-level and closed her eyes. She looked as though she was listening to something Iris couldn't hear. "I'll do as you please, My Master," she said, and clicked the device's button. Iris believed it to be some kind of cellular. One that worked on the mind.

"Master Andre wants you to see something," the girl told Iris. "He says you will like it, and it will help you clear your mind."

"I doubt I will like it," Iris said, then wished she hadn't. What was wrong with going somewhere else and exploring more of the ship. "On second thought, why not?" she smiled.

"As you wish, My Beauty," the girl bowed and told the others to leave them, then ushered Iris to another room. The door opened with the same technique; the girl whispered to it, and it opened. Everything in this ship seemed to work with the power of the mind.

"Please," the girl showed her into a new chamber.

This one was a bit darker. It reminded her of her father's basement, full of paintings, brushes, portraits, and tables to draw on. It took Iris a moment to realize this was a painter's studio. And she understood why Andre thought she'd like it. This was where she could practice her most desired hobby, the one that made her question everything around her, and brought her here.

"I do like it," Iris said. She couldn't deny it. It was from the heart. The place was filled with instruments and chemicals used in her dad's Pentimento studio. It reminded her of her family and her childhood.

Her curiosity urged her to explore the paintings, until she came upon Fragonard’s
Fountain of Love
. Iris stood inanimate before it for a while, wondering if this was a copy or some kind of fake. Did Fragonard paint another one, or did the Beasts steal it from her father? If yes, when did they do that? She remembered last seeing it two days ago.

Iris pulled the painting toward a black light nearby and looked through, wondering if she’d see the boy was really a beast. She saw it. The boy had been designed as a beast in the beginning and then changed. It was either her father’s copy, or the same painting.

"I told you." Andre appeared from behind a painting. He was wearing a white veil, just like the girl. Only this one was embroiled with golden stripes. Andre looked a bit taller now, standing only strides away.

"I thought you said you wanted to continue the conversation later." Iris said, as the girl excused herself out.

"I still do," Andre walked around her. He smelled of red roses. She wondered why he wore a veil, making him look like a ghost. Couldn’t the Beasts invent a technology that would make them disappear and become only sounds or something? "This is something entirely different," he followed.

"Do you even know what this place is, or did you just steal my father’s paintings?" Iris sneered.

“We didn't steal anything," Andre said. “This Fragonard painting has been here for ages."

“How can you say that? My father discovered the Pentimento underneath it. The boy was originally a beast. You're lying."

“No, it's been here since long ago," Andre insisted. "We've been studying it, and interpreting its hidden messages since long ago. Aren't you curious about the message?"

“There is a message?” Iris’s eyes moistened. She’d been waiting to know why the boy was a beast for most of her life. Although she assumed Andre was lying to her, she couldn't resist listening to him about the real meaning behind the painting.

“A message about the future, yes,” Andre said. “In this case, Fragonard’s future, which is the ‘now’ for us.”

“What is it? Was he trying to warn us about you?” Iris stepped forward. “Do you Beasts look like the Beast boy hidden beneath his painting?”