So, a few years ago, I wrote a novel. For as long as I can remember, I have loved fractured fairy tales; I have loved when authors take an old classic and twist it into something new. The tale of Beauty and the Beast has always been a favorite of mine, so I decided to put my own spin on the story. If you'd like to buy the novel, it can be found on Amazon, but for now, I thought I could post it here, chapter by chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Introduction

You have all heard the story of a French damsel and a magically mutated prince. The story is one of love and happy feelings, holding within the pages a very good moral: do not judge one by their outward appearance. Brace yourselves, you have been told a lie! That is right, a lie! A false tale! An incorrect account! I know you are probably shocked, some of you are maybe even crying. Do not despair; there is hope, for I have placed the burden of truth upon my shoulders. Now, the story I am about to recount will not be the same, but at least my tale will be the truth. So, make the choice. Do you choose to conform and be like others who will shut this book and continue believing the lie, or are you going to be one of the elite who are bold and courageous, and yearn for the correct story? But beware. Once you start on this adventure, you can never turn back, and you will never be the same.

I knew I could count on you. Let us begin.

Chapter One: A Boy Alone

"Prince Adam!"

The young prince grinned smugly when he heard the maid screeching from behind his bedroom's door. Adam knew the girl, Estelle, was frustrated; he supposed she had the right to be. The prince had played some harmless tricks on the servants earlier in the day, and that always ruffled Estelle, who had become the prince's self-appointed guardian. Though Adam's parents never gave their verbal agreement, the prince knew they secretly loved having someone else watching their child.

As the maid began rapping her fist on the door, Adam assumed he should at least give the poor woman an answer. He smiled and took pleasure in how easily he could perturb Estelle. "Go away," came the chillied reply. "I wish not to see a single soul until my parents return!" The prince stifled a laugh as he imagined the shock and anger raging across the maid's face. The answer was perhaps a little too dramatic, but there was no taking it back now. At this pace, he would have her as ruffled as her feather duster by the end of the conversation.

"Mon Cher," the maid said coaxingly, "Dinner has been prepared in honor of your special day. I was sent to bring you down. Imagine how foolish you would make me look if I was to go back without you by my side! I am sure a boy as sweet as you would not do that to his friend. Please, come out."

Adam began to feel angry himself; he could tolerate a maid who was overly concerned about his attitude and upbringing, but he was furious that Estelle was patronizing him and talking to him like he was a little child. In his anger, the prince felt vindicated to say whatever he wanted. "I know of your crafty ways, Estelle. Jean Claude and you have probably concocted some sort of revenge to repay for my earlier pranks. That is all they were: harmless pranks to amuse me in my time of boredom. I do not wish to sit and eat amongst hypocrites and two-faces who wish my demise." Estelle started to snap at the prince but remembered her place. She turned and haughtily skulked down the hallway. She let the harsh click-clack of her heeled shoes audibly voice her frustration.

Meanwhile, Adam paced about his room, tossing an uneaten apple between his hands. He stared at a picture of his absent parents, the monarchs of France. The picture was old and slightly worn around the edges, but otherwise, it was perfectly preserved. In the picture, the king and queen cradled baby Adam in their arms and smiled ever so pleasantly. Those were cherished, but almost forgotten times.

Now Adam was too grown up to be held in his parents' arms. This was his thirteenth birthday. He was a young man who needed to be helped by no one but himself. His parents obviously agreed with this philosophy, for they often left Adam alone; they had done so this very night. "Royal business," the king curtly replied as the queen and he hurried out of the castle, leaving their son to fend for himself once again.

Adam had grown to accept that he would just have the type of parents that never stayed at home, and he was fine with that. But why did he feel so uncomfortable about his father's absence? Did he miss them? Yes, and he also loved them, but love had never made him feel this way before. Maybe his parents' peculiar attitude was the perplexing factor in this situation.

King Avery had begun to receive strange letters half a fortnight ago. Neither the letters nor the mysterious couriers who delivered them bothered the prince, but the king's noticeable change in conduct and countenance worried him terribly. Adam thought his father was the bravest man alive, one who could be threatened by nothing, yet these letters seemed to shake him terribly. King Avery, once the mighty oak of France, had been reduced to quaking aspen by a piece of parchment. The queen's endless crying did not help Adam either. Three days before the mysterious departure, the young prince found his mother in a frenzied state in the East Wing. She had thrown herself upon her bed and sobbed uncontrollably. In her right hand, she grasped one of the cursed epistles, which had now been reduced to a crumpled, tear-stained mess. Adam's blood boiled with rage at the fact that someone had been able to tear the once-happy family asunder. He wished to comfort his mother but thought his silence wise. Adam retreated from the room and left his mother alone in her time of lamenting.

Adam wished he could decipher his parents' odd behavior. To be able to know what troubled their souls would begin to ease his own. Adam was currently considering asking the servants what they knew of the situation but immediately dismissed the idea. The prince mocked his own stupidity. "To stoop so low as to ask for help. Adam, what were you thinking? However, I do want to know what is going on. Oh, how I wish I knew!"

Sixteen Years Prior

King Aso sat upon his once-glorious throne. The neighboring willows waved their outstretched branches toward the distraught king, and the towering oaks groaned, echoing the cries of the king's heart. The previously tranquil waters rippled violently, moved by the king's aura of anger. The fairy's broken soul cast an air of abandonment upon his smooth face and his wings sagged. They, which were at one time filled with vitality and joy, were now weighed down by the weight of depression.

Jezé (the king's second wife) stood in the shadows of the courtroom. From her fortress of airy darkness, she glowered at her husband. She bit her tongue, holding back the rage and contempt that boiled from deep within her. King Aso was no longer a dream in her eyes, but a curse. He had become a foolish man whose brains were decaying inside his old head. Jezé took a few relaxing breaths to calm her disturbed nerves. Then, with grace and elegance, she strolled toward the king, her thin, black wings trailing behind her like a mourner's veil. Jezé sidled up to her husband. "My dear Aso," her voice deceptively sweet, "Fret no more over your traitorous son. Please turn your attention toward your failing kingdom . . . and to me." She leaned in and gave her husband an alluring kiss. As she drew out of her vampish bite, she expected to be greeted by her husband's attentive eyes, yet King Aso looked beyond Jezé instead, his dulled eyes searching for his son. Jezé growled in frustration and pushed herself off the throne, upset she could no longer manipulate her husband with arousing flirtations.

The king's son, by his first marriage, was a headstrong lad named Avanari. The prince had shunned his kingdom and birthright, throwing them away recklessly in hopes of winning a young maiden's hand in marriage. The fairy prince's heart, stolen so easily by a human girl, often wandered from home. Although fairy law did not allow human marriage, Avanari chased after the girl passionately, and no one could convince Avanari that he was being foolish. "This girl loves me as I am, and if I am being foolish in returning her love, then it is madness I will embrace," replied the prince when questioned about his actions. Fairy law also required that the reigning king or queen execute anyone who disobeyed. However, King Aso could not bring himself to kill his son, so he simply banished him. Jezé saw Avanari as a weakness of her husband. "If my husband is to conquer the world for me, he cannot. Be. Weak!"

The dark queen decided to take matters into her own hands. "Enno! Anno!" Jezé summoned her two assassins with a sharp, cutting tone. The two servants came and bowed before their queen."What does-s-s-s our queen reques-s-s-st of us-s-s-s? As-s-s-sk us-s-s-s our queen and your wis-s-s-sh is-s-s-s…"Jezé's hands dashed out at viper speed. She clasped Enno's scrawny neck and Anno's fatty arm, and her stiletto nails dug into their scaly flesh. Her face, which was considered perfectly beautiful by most, curled up into a hateful sneer as she spoke. "Now listen, you fools! I have an important job for you," her voice was low and hissing, "If you breathe a word about this to anyone they will be the last words you speak. Now here is what I need you to do." Her voice flowed on as she recounted her malicious plan to her slaves. A sly and devious look crossed Enno's face, and Anno rubbed his hands together, greedy for blood. "Cons-s-s-sider the tas-s-s-sk completed, your highness-s-s-s," the two fairies replied in unison.