Beast Castle

“Episode 3”

 

The musty smell of a forgotten library, the rhythmic sound of rain beating against the earth, and the precise click-clack of footsteps like a clock’s pendulum—all were sensations Ray experienced as he followed Clodan.

After walking for a while, they entered a space filled with tightly packed bookshelves, passed by corridors adorned with numerous portraits in pearl frames, and noticed a transformation in the interior decorations that seemed to belong to a bygone era, at least half a century old. The colors of door frames and the displayed plates on ornate shelves were uniform, giving the impression of unearthing a past buried in time.

“Feeling tired?” Clodan, leading the way, asked.

“My steps have slowed down,” Ray replied. Waiting for Ray’s response, Clodan added, “It seems a bit challenging.”

Ray, who had been absorbed in observing the surroundings, shook his head slightly. “Not tired.”

At that moment, Clodan stopped abruptly, causing Ray to do the same. The only thing filling the corridor was the sound of rain.

“Come in.”

After exchanging a brief glance, Clodan pulled a snake-like ring with five intertwined tails hanging on the wall—a subtle indication that it was the disguised entrance.

Closdan entered first, patiently waiting for Ray to follow suit. Ray, unable to endure the courtesy, hurriedly entered, and the door closed. Finally, the two found themselves in a concealed chamber that was difficult to fully appreciate.

One wall was covered in books, another displayed bottles of various colored liquids, and the rest was filled with heirloom jewelry and withered flowers that seemed to have been passed down through generations. The scent of collected items overwhelmed any human scent in the air—a place where possessions spoke louder than the living.

Noticing a crumpled blanket in a corner, Ray deduced that this was Clodan’s space. The deep, familiar fragrance scattered throughout undoubtedly belonged to Clodan. Ray took a subtle breath, enjoying the scent of a boy who roamed the fields, mixed with a hint of faint incense. It was indescribably pleasant.

“Do you like it?” Clodan asked.

Ray, with wide eyes, looked at Clodan, who gestured around.

“Here.”

“Oh, yes. I like it. It’s beautiful.”

“Come here.”

Closdan gently pulled the edge of Ray’s sleeve, the first touch.

“I’ve gathered only things you’d like.”

The first thing he showed Ray was a meticulously clean fairy tale book with ants sliding down its pages. It was a monotonous tale that had been passed down for centuries, about a prince freed from a witch’s curse by a sincere kiss.

“Have you read it?”

Ray couldn’t decipher the title. Reluctantly, he nodded and feigned interest.

“Do you enjoy fairy tales, my lord?”

“Seems like you don’t.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Considering the lack of attention you give.”

Closdan chuckled, caressing the picked-up fairy tale book.

“Do you think it’s childish?”

Ray’s chest felt slightly cold. Clodan was standing closely behind him, and the rustling of his breath barely moved Ray’s hair.

“My lord.”

 

Clodan’s soft breath brushed against Ray’s ear, and in that moment, Ray was consumed by impulse. He wanted to kiss, to run his fingers through the furrowed eyebrows, to caress the man who persistently touched him. However, Ray only managed to discreetly lift Clodan’s sleeve.

“Read it for me.”

Clodan didn’t respond. Instead, he obediently followed where Ray led. Ray settled onto Clodan’s crumpled blanket, sitting with legs gathered under a long skirt that concealed even the tips of his toes. In Ray’s imagination, Clodan was sitting beside him, but in reality, Clodan stubbornly stood behind him.

The situation became increasingly awkward. Ray, like close friends, leaned against Clodan’s chest, trapped between firm arms on both sides. The intimate position made Ray feel vulnerable, unable to swallow saliva and causing his gaze to wander aimlessly.

“Have you read this before?”

Ray swallowed his words, fearing his voice might break.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“Just because. Just read it quickly.”

The situation hadn’t progressed beyond turning the cover of the book. Ray felt ticklish around his neck, making it difficult to endure. Clodan’s nose lightly brushed against the sensitive area, and Ray gradually squirmed. Meanwhile, Clodan became bolder, his cold lips even touching and passing over Ray’s skin.

The fairy tale book was now forgotten by Clodan. Ray tried to shift away, but Clodan tightened his embrace, drawing him even closer. Ray, in a vulnerable position, found himself lying on the blanket, with Clodan still holding onto him.

The room fell into silence, and the temperature seemed to rise. Ray, almost feverish, could barely release shallow breaths. Clodan’s lips were the only cool sensation, gliding over his cheek and neck. The firm parts of Clodan’s body pressed against the soft flesh, and Clodan’s breath, like that of a beast, brushed against him. Without restraint, lips were wet, and even the already stuck waist wriggled.

Ray’s forehead warmed. The lips that wetted his cheeks and neck were the only refreshing sensation. His fingers explored the waistband as Clodan’s lips continued their relentless assault.

“Master.”

The scene abruptly changed with Philip’s voice. The old man’s hoarse and sagging voice woke Ray, and Clodan slowly arranged his disheveled lips.

“Heish Resben has returned. He wishes to see you downstairs.”

Outside the secret chamber, the atmosphere remained calm after that, but Philip’s lingering presence suggested he was waiting for the master’s response.

“My lord.”

Clodan, with his face still close to Ray’s exposed shoulders, was silently waiting. Though appearing composed, his eyes were disheveled and distant from reason. It was Ray who let go first.

“Heish is here.”

Clodan followed Ray’s gaze, fixated on the buttoning of his shirt. The trembling eyelashes and the movement of untangling wrinkled fabric. Clodan’s gaze persisted as Ray stood up. He observed her closely until Ray finally met his eyes.

“I will go down soon.”

Timing was opportune for Philip to prompt Clodan again.

“My lord, should I inform him it’s inconvenient today?”

Clodan ran his fingers roughly through his hair. Even the act of standing was somewhat aggressive.

“I’ll be down shortly. Let him know.”

Philip’s brief footsteps soon faded away. Clodan retrieved the discarded fairy tale book and handed it slowly to Ray.

“I’ll lend it to you.”

She couldn’t read it anyway, but it provided an excuse to return it later. Ray shyly accepted the book.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be going now.”

Though Clodan led the way earlier, they walked side by side as they left. The sound of rain had ceased, and a warm sun scent replaced the damp earth smell.

“Young Lord, the rain has stopped.”

Ray smiled warmly, and Clodan’s gaze became fixated on her.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s warm.”

“Why do you like warm things?”

“Young Lord, don’t you like it?”

Ray briefly immersed herself in a daydream. Sunbeams showering in iridescent colors, a gentle breeze tickling underneath the shade, and the soothing sensation of a nap under the warm sun. The scenes were vividly bright and beautiful.

“Sleeping under the warm sun brings pleasant dreams. It’s genuinely nice.”

Clodan’s eyes, gradually turning amber, focused solely on Ray’s lips. In Ray’s mind, only the hauntingly yellow eyes of Clodan were etched. There was no need to look forward; they were each other’s eyes.

“Ray?”

Suddenly, Haisch’s astonished voice echoed. Dressed neatly, he had just returned and was looking up from below. His face was a mixture of displeasure and anxiety, and his face soon turned red and purple.

“Why are you coming down from there?”

“I called for the young lord…”

“What disrespectful act is this in front of the young lord! Trying to ruin everything by standing out! Attempting to take advantage and make mistakes in this situation!…”

As expected, Ray was treated as an embarrassment, an unwanted byproduct. Clodan bent down, shielding Ray’s shoulders.

“Is it more disrespectful for someone to kneel there begging for help?”

“I meant…”

“I called her because there’s a book I’d like to lend her. Stop making a scene.”

However, Haisch’s face became more distorted.

“A child who can’t even read is asking for a book?”

Ray thought it didn’t matter. Such language was akin to a needle prick or a trivial annoyance. However, tears unexpectedly streamed down her cheeks.

“Ray, come down right now. What are you doing, spreading false lies in front of the young lord?”

It was too embarrassing—for Clodan.

Ray pushed Clodan’s hand away, sprinted down the stairs, and pushed Haisch aside. Whether Haisch complained or cursed, she ran towards the only refuge. Ignoring the obscenities behind her, she dove onto the bed, hiding under the covers, hugging the last remaining fairy tale book.

Though she couldn’t be honest with Clodan, Ray hated fairy tales. In reality, there were no fairy godmothers. Only unkind people and wounds surrounded her.