Chapter 16 - Snow White's Son

Translator's Note:

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The Beast did not truly understand why Queen Snow White's body had not decayed, nor why Crow's hair was imbued with magic. Both Crow and the late queen had lived among the elves for a time, and the Beast believed their powers had been shared by these ancient beings.

 

Though this wasn't entirely untrue, simply living with the elves could not bestow such magic. Crow and his mother had shared more than just their days with the elves—they had shared intimate, forbidden nights, drawing their strength from consuming the essence of these mystical creatures.

 

"And so... all I can do is wait for my brother to come for me?"

 

"You almost sound as though you dread his arrival. Do you dislike Prince Kyle?"

 

"I don't dislike him at all. I'm very grateful to him. But... perhaps, in some small way, I find him a bit... cold. I do hope it's just my imagination."

 

"C-cold?" The Beast's reaction to Crow's words was immediate, his entire frame shuddering beneath his cloak.

 

His shoulders and back trembled, and in his distress, he even forgot to hide his face. His sapphire eyes widened in shock, and his lips quivered as if they might break into sobs at any moment.

 

"Why do you think he's cold? Is it because he hasn't come for you, even after the elves disappeared a year ago?" The Beast's voice trembled as he asked.

 

Crow quickly shook his head, trying to ease the tension. "No, it's not that. There's something else…"

 

"There was a time when I tried to secretly watch who left the gift boxes for me. I fell asleep before I could see the moment it was placed, but I did manage to catch a glimpse of the figures walking away. They were not my brother, but servants. Though my brother sends me gifts, he never writes me letters. I longed for him to write, 'You are my brother, and I will come for you. Wait for me.' I always search through the packages, pushing aside the gifts, hoping to find a small card hidden within. I even flip through all the pages of the books he sends, searching for some note tucked away inside. But I find nothing. My brother is kind, thoughtful, and spares no expense in sending me beautiful things, using his wealth and power as the crown prince. But still… I cannot see his heart. I'm certain he pities me, but sometimes, I fear he may have merely told his servants, 'Send something that will please him.'"

 

"That's not true! Absolutely not!"

 

"Ah…!" Crow stepped back in surprise at the Beast's loud denial. The Beast covered his bearded face with both hands, his leather gloves trembling as he pressed them over his eyes and brow, then collapsed onto the table, overwhelmed.

 

"No… it's not true at all!" he repeated, his voice breaking with emotion.

 

"Beast…?" Crow whispered.

 

"There are feelings the crown prince might have had, feelings he could never put into words… Perhaps he loved you too much. Perhaps he wrote letters and tore them up, over and over again, unable to find the right words to express his heart. Maybe he dreamed only of the day he could see you again… I can understand how he must have felt, for I have experienced something very similar myself…"

 

The Beast's voice was strained, his words choked with tears. Soon, he was openly weeping.

 

It had been a year since Crow last saw him cry, and just like before, the Beast wept with shame, as though he could not bear his own existence.

 

"Who… who was it?" Crow asked, his voice barely audible. "Is there someone you love?"

 

The very thought of someone causing the Beast such anguish, of there being another whom the Beast still loved, was like a crushing weight on Crow's heart.

 

Did he love someone so deeply that the pain of separation brought him to tears?

 

"Kyle, the crown prince… He must have agonized over not being able to see you, blinded by his own sorrow. But his failure to consider your feelings… that was his greatest mistake. To claim that writing to you was too painful is nothing more than an excuse. If he had thought of you, waiting for him, he should have written you a letter, even if the ink blurred with his tears. As your brother, he should have sent you that letter, to ease your anxieties, to offer you some peace. He was wrong. Not just powerless… but, as you say, coldhearted."

 

The Beast did not speak of the one he had loved. Instead, he channeled his sorrow into defending the crown prince, as if trying to soothe Crow's doubts.

 

Still hunched over, his hands pressed firmly to his face, the Beast continued to weep. His sorrowful sobs filled the room, and Crow realized how deeply his words had wounded him.

 

"I'm sorry, Beast. Truly… I was upset, feeling lost in my own sorrow, and I took it out on my brother, who has done nothing wrong. I never meant to hurt you as well… I am so, so sorry."

 

Crow reached out to soothe him, gently stroking his broad back through the heavy cloak, murmuring apologies over and over. His own voice soon wavered, and beside the Beast, Crow, too, began to sob.

 

"I spoke so harshly of my brother… Please forget my cruel words," Crow whispered, his voice trembling with tears.

 

Though he had secretly longed for letters or messages from his brother, some tangible token of love, he had never meant to utter such selfish desires aloud. But the frustration had boiled over, and his own heart, feeling neglected, had lashed out, not only against his brother but against the Beast as well.

 

"Forgive me… for hurting you too…" Crow's voice quivered with emotion.

 

"Snow White, you've done nothing wrong," the Beast murmured, his voice deep and comforting.

 

Before Crow could say another word, he found himself enveloped in the Beast's strong arms, held tightly against his chest. Even through the cloak and gloves, he felt the solid strength of those arms, felt the powerful heartbeat that echoed through their closeness.

 

"Please… Beast, stay with me tonight…" Crow's voice faltered as he clung to the Beast's broad back, unable to hold back his longing.

 

He yearned for a connection, for the warmth of another beside him, as lovers do when they entwine themselves in the night. But he feared that, if he asked too much, the Beast would leave him. He couldn't bear to hear the words, "You need to calm yourself," or spend the lonely hours until dawn by himself.

 

He couldn't stand the thought of his feelings being dismissed, as if all he wanted was to fulfill some base desire. He wasn't sure he could endure that.

 

"Please… Just lie beside me," Crow pleaded softly.

 

"Snow White…" the Beast murmured.

 

"Lately, I've found it hard to sleep," Crow confessed, clutching the edge of the Beast's red cloak.

 

He couldn't see the Beast's face, nor could he hear an answer right away, but he clung to the hope that the silence would soon give way to something kind, something gentle. For the heartbeat he felt through the Beast's chest was fast and strong, as though it, too, held secrets yet unspoken.

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