Chapter 11 - Snow White's Son
Translator's Note:
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"I will sing you a lullaby," Crow said softly. "I will sing until your eyes turn back to that same blue they are now, and until you yourself tell me that it's safe. I will keep you bound tightly in my hair, and with all my heart, I will sing to bring you back to who you truly are. So please... come to me. I'll be waiting, Beast. Please, come see me."
The thought of someone waiting for him, of someone wanting to meet him, made Crow's heart swell with joy. He was already laughing and crying at the thought of it, wiping away the blood from the Beast's hair and beard with a cloth, while his other hand gently held the Beast's.
"So, will you come to see me?"
Though the Beast's hand was large and covered with coarse fur, Crow knew these were the same hands that had, night after night, climbed the tower. There were many other creatures in the forest, easier prey for a beast, yet something deeper had driven him, something stronger than hunger or instinct—the desire to see Crow.
It was that desire, Crow thought, that had kept him coming back. Tomorrow, he would surely return again, driven by those same feelings, even if the beast within once more sought out food or pleasure. But as long as Crow's magic hair could bind him, he believed he could keep him at bay.
"Snow White..." the Beast whispered.
Though he didn't say he would come, he pulled Crow into an embrace. Perhaps he didn't want to show his face, but Crow didn't care. The warmth of that hug, the steady rhythm of his heart—it brought Crow peace.
"I wanted to see you," the Beast murmured.
"How... how did you know of me?" Crow asked, his voice soft. Wrapped tightly in the Beast's strong arms, he felt the depth of the emotions pressing upon him—not a mere few days of yearning, but something that felt like it had spanned years.
"That..."
The Beast's voice trembled, as though he were about to cry, his breath a whisper near Crow's ear.
Having grown up among the secretive elves, Crow had learned to sense when a secret was near.
His heart told him that perhaps he should not have asked, that the question may have touched on something better left unspoken. He thought to take it back, but before he could, the Beast answered in a low voice.
"I heard rumors."
"Rumors?" Crow echoed.
"Yes... of a second prince, locked away in a tower deep within the Black Forest. They said he had skin as pale as snow, a beauty unmatched. When I saw you, I knew at once—it was you. The prince's name is Snow White... that is your true name."
"Snow White..." Crow repeated, smiling softly as the name fell from his lips. He had heard it before, whispered by the elves in their final moments, a secret of his origin. To hear it from the lips of another felt strangely comforting, like a forgotten part of himself returning.
With that revelation, Crow's mind felt clearer. He now knew the way to keep himself safe from the Beast, and with renewed resolve, he would wait for Prince Kyle to come for him. Or perhaps, once the wolves thinned, he could escape the tower on his own. There was no rush. He would wait for the right time, and act when the moment was right.
"If I am a prince, then why am I imprisoned here?" Crow asked, his voice laden with wonder and sorrow.
"Your father, once a noble king, lost his mind after your mother, the queen, passed away. He loved her too deeply, and when you began to resemble her so closely, it pained him to look at you. That is why... he locked you away."
The Beast's voice faltered. Crow rested his chin on the Beast's shoulder, staring at the stone walls, slick with the Beast's blood and the flickering light of the hearth.
"So my father... cast me away because I reminded him too much of my mother?"
"No," the Beast replied gently. "Not cast away... but a consequence of love. You were born of great love, and raised with it, too. Your father loved you dearly, but the love for your mother overshadowed it. He was consumed by it. But even though you were not his greatest love, there is someone who loves you most of all."
"Someone who loves me most of all?" Crow mused aloud, thinking of the few he knew—his elven guardians, his older brother, Prince Kyle, or perhaps his mother, the queen.
The Beast said nothing more, only tightened his embrace, as if to silently say "It is I." But Crow could not believe it—he was a stranger, after all. No one could love him after hearing mere rumors. Yet, perhaps... in some rare cases, love could spring from such whispers. After all, Crow himself had felt something for Prince Kyle, someone he had only known through stories and portraits.
"Beast..." Crow began.
"The one who loves you most is Prince Kyle," the Beast interrupted.
Crow's heart swelled with joy at this answer—his most cherished dream. He pulled back to look at the Beast's face, but the Beast turned away at once, avoiding his gaze.
His blue eyes were filled with sadness, and it seemed as though he might cry at any moment.
"Does Prince Kyle truly love me?" Crow asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Yes... I have heard tales of how dearly he treasures his only brother. He longs to see you, but is kept from you by cruel fate. The prince cannot enter this forest."
"Why not?" Crow asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"The king forbids it," the Beast said softly. "In his madness, no one knows what the king might do to Prince Snow White. Thus, your brother is powerless to act."
"But... he always sends me the most wonderful gifts," Crow mused.
"It is all he can do," the Beast sighed, closing his eyes. "He loves you deeply, but he is a man trapped by his helplessness. I pity him for it."
Though Crow's heart ached to hear his beloved brother spoken of in such a way, the sorrow in the Beast's voice stilled any protest that might have arisen. It was clear the Beast spoke not in malice, but out of compassion for the prince's plight.
"Do you think my brother will come for me?" Crow asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"When he becomes king, he will surely come. Some say he is already making plans to rescue you as soon as he can. But the forest is full of wolves and bears—it is not safe for anyone to enter, nor is it safe for you to leave the tower. You must wait here, where it is safe, until Prince Kyle can come for you... Will you promise me that?"
As the Beast spoke, he reached out to tenderly touch Crow's cheek, his rough hand surprisingly gentle.
Crow, feeling a warmth and strength in the Beast's presence, nodded with tears glistening in his eyes. "I will wait."
"Beast... it's lonely, being all alone. Will you visit me again while I wait for my brother? I'd like to learn so much from you."
Crow pressed his cheek against the Beast's palm, marveling at its size and strength. Looking into the Beast's kind, intelligent blue eyes—so different from the fearsome red they were—he pleaded once more, "Please, come to see me."
"Do you truly wish to see someone as hideous as I? Are you not afraid?" the Beast asked, his voice trembling.
"I wish to see you very much. I'm not afraid," Crow smiled gently. "When you're in your beastly form, yes, it's frightening. But I know now that isn't the real you."
As Crow's smile warmed the room, the Beast once again shed tears—tears that seemed at odds with his powerful, imposing appearance. But Crow could see the truth behind the facade: the Beast was a deeply complex and wounded soul, burdened by untold sorrows.
"Promise me one thing," the Beast said through his tears. "Promise me you will never let your guard down, no matter what."
Crow, returning the Beast's tears with a radiant smile, nodded resolutely. "I promise," he said, his heart full of hope, vowing to remain cautious around the Beast in his wilder moments.
And thus, in the quiet warmth of that tower, a fragile bond was forged—a bond that might yet withstand the shadows of their fates entwined.
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