Prologue

Not so many years ago, there was a beautiful young Prince. His father's only child, heir to the throne and constantly doted upon by everyone he met, the Prince-whose name was forgotten years ago-was very proud and vain by the time he had reached his 19th birthday.

So, on the eve of his 20th year beginning, the Prince attended a feast in the Great City. After the feast was over and the food and drink cleared away, the dancing began.

The Prince sat at the High Table and danced with no one, but his eyes followed one girl in particular. It was the Princess of a neighboring kingdom. She was as beautiful as the sun was bright, and as sweet as the thorns on a rose.

But the Prince cared naught for her bitter nature, for she was beautiful and he desired her. He descended from the Table and approached her. He bowed; she curtsied. He asked her to dance, holding out his hand, confident that she would not refuse.

She denied him.

Shocked, the Prince did not move as the beautiful Princess glided away with another noble, whose name is not of importance.

Now at this grand party to celebrate the Prince's 19th birthday was a poor serving girl named Klaribelle. 

She was part fairy and though her magical gifts were small, she had a smidgen of  fae beauty. 

Now, the Princess had been tall, blonde, blue of eye, and slim as a board. 

Klaribelle, however, had dark curls and green eyes and she curved generously in the hip and breast. She was barely five feet tall and wore a plain homespun gown and a white apron. She, too, had a pretty face, but her temperament was as sweet as honey.

When Klaribelle saw the Prince standing alone like a fool with his hand stretched out after the Princess, she took pity upon him. Setting aside her duties as a serving girl, she crossed the dance floor and came to stand before him. 

Klaribelle curtsied and placed her hand in the Prince's. She drew him out onto the dance floor and they danced. Klaribelle had been taught how to dance by her mother when she was very small and was very good. 

But alas, despite her slight fae beauty and sweet manners, the Prince saw only a serving girl with an apron stained with wine, a homespun gown, and a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

In the middle of the dance-after recovering from the Princess's rude departure-he pushed Klaribelle away and she fell to the floor. He shouted at her, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He demanded to know what she thought she was doing and he insulted before finally  turning his back and leaving her where she lay. 

Now, while Klaribelle was very sweet temperament and calmly in control of herself, any one with the slightest fae blood cannot control a rage as swift as the one that rose in she. 

Klaribelle sprang to her feet and demanded that the Prince turn and face her. Surprised that she had spoken to him so, he did. 

And when he did, Klaribelle recited thus:

"Monster you are within and Monster you shall be

Pride brings your downfall, now all shall see

The Monster you truly are, so it now will be!"

Over Klaribelle a change had come. Her dark curls crackled with electricity and her eyes were white. She was deathly pale and if one looked closely, one could almost see wings of light, shaped similar to a dragonfly's, expanding from her back. 

All was silent for a moment. And then the Prince began to change. 

With a sudden cry of pain, he doubled over, clutching at his elbows. Black fur sprouted all over his body, expanding into a shaggy black mane around his head and shoulders. With sickening crunches and snaps and pops, his bones moved and changed. His teeth became pointed, his jaw became heavier and moved forward to stick out like a dog's. His back became humped and along his spine more coarse black fur sprouted like that of his mane. His hands became clawed paws and his arms bulged with new muscle. His legs became the thighs and knees of a wolf, with long feet and clawed toes. As he expanded and changed, his fine clothes tore and shredded until he wore naught but his black trousers and a long sweeping black cape. When the monster that was his soul showed on his body, the Prince was nearly ten feet tall when hunched over and covered in coarse black fur. His face had changed from handsome to monstrous, with a broad jaw and heavy brow. Sharp teeth stuck up out of his mouth and his wild blue eyes stared at the now-normal Klaribelle. 

She looked back at him with a mixture of anger and sadness. 

And then she said, "Now the body shows the beast within." 

It was silent for a moment. 

And then the Princess screamed. She ran for the doors, still screaming, hiking up her skirts to go faster. Her noble friend was quick to follow her. 

After a moment, the rest of the guests followed in a similar manner, stampeding for the doors, shrieking. 

Then only the Monster and Klaribelle remained. The Monster glowered at her, then snarled. When the sound emerged from his throat, her jerked with surprise. Klaribelle informed him that he'd have to learn how to speak again. His vocal cords were different from before. He growled again. 

Klaribelle turned, as if to leave. But then she paused. 

She was not cruel by nature. She regretted her decision to curse the beastly Monster. But not all the regret in the world would bring him back. 

So she turned her head and pressed her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss, whispering these words:

"Alone you are now, but not for all time,

One shall free you, one of blood mine,

When the soul is beautiful, so shall be the face

So until that day, do not dare to leave this place."

And then she left. 

For many years did the Monster remain in his castle. He had no one but three ugly Gargoyles for company, whose origin is not known. As time passed, his grand castle fell into disrepair and a great Wood sprang up around it, hiding him from the world. 

Years went by. Rumors of the Monster in the Wood still circulate to this day, but no one believes them. Many wild stories about him, there are, but none of them true.

Only we know the truth, me and now you, Klari. We know the truth because your Great Grandmother, the one for which you are named, she was the Klaribelle of the story, and she told me of her greatest triumph and her deepest regret before her dying. It was a triumph because she saved the kingdom from a selfish, prideful King. She regretted it because she sentenced the Prince to an eternity of loneliness. For who would be brave enough to love a Monster? Who would be selfless enough to save him from her curse?

Who would even want to?

But she told me, Klari, she told me, that she hoped someone would. Because as selfish as he was, as blind as he was to see a serving girl instead of a beautiful young woman, despite all his faults, she loved him. She loved him with all of her being, all of her heart, even as a beast. She just feared that none that came after her would be able to love him enough to free him.