Page 36 of The Beauty and His Beast

Camdyn let out a laugh, a genuine sound of amusement that filled the room. “Oh, well, goodness. God forgive me, but I won’t disagree.” The tension in the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by the shared recognition of the absurdity of the situation.

Aldaay grinned, clearly relieved by the lighter atmosphere. “I don’t think even They could begrudge you that,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’ll leave you to it, my lord. You’ve quite a bit of reading to do.”

???

The first letter was written only a few days after Camdyn’s departure from the monastery.

My dear boy,

You took part of my heart when you left. I saw it clinging to you as you disappeared over the horizon in your brothers’ cart. Make sure to feed yourself well, and to getenough rest, and enjoy yourself when you can. By caring for yourself you will also care for me.

The monastery keenly feels your absence. It is far too quiet and everyone dislikes it greatly. Brother David had to wrangle the cows himself for the first time in nearly a decade. And I now have no stalwart companion to keep me company and assist me in the garden or the apothecary.

Do you remember how you used to run around during our prayers? You would tug on our rosaries and robes until I made you come stand with me. Always moving, always curious.

I know you are greatly upset with this sudden change in your life. I do not mean to add to your distress with my nostalgia and loneliness. But just know that you are my boy. I sewed and hemmed your robes, I bandaged your cuts, I watched over you when you were ill, and now, like children are wont to do, you have grown up and are getting married and will have a life separate from mine. I will do as all parents must one day do, and simply write to you with all the love I have in me.

It pained me greatly to see you leave and it still pains me now as I write you this letter, but I also feel heartened because soon you will read it and think of me. I pray that your journey is safe, I pray that your family welcomes you back with open arms, I pray that your husband is kind and loving, and I pray that you are happy.

God bless you, Camdyn.

Brother Cenric

Camdyn smiled and wiped his eyes, then kissed Cenric’s signature, scrawled in long-dried, black ink, and pressed the letter to his heart. He carefully folded it and set it aside before moving on to the next one, and the next. It pleased him thatthe contents of Cenric’s letters were much like his own, filled with the day-to-day life of the monastery. They mentioned every monk’s health, chronicled Brother David’s renewed struggles with the livestock, and described how the garden was growing, as well as when the day was particularly hot or rainy.

Cenric had realized early on that their communication was one-way.

You don’t address the subjects in any of my letters, yet nearly every week I receive more messages from you. Perhaps the couriers in this area are worse than I thought. I will continue writing, of course—you shall certainly get them one day, and what else is there for me to do? I will tell you a secret: no one here is as wonderful a conversation partner as you, Camdyn. If I do not put my thoughts of the day’s events to ink, then I will burst with all the observations I have not shared.

It always pleases me greatly to hear about your little niece. She sounds much like you did as a child—curious and sweet natured.

There was a shift in tone that occurred in the letters written after the wedding; a palpable relief as Camdyn wrote to Cenric, ecstatic, that Everild was gentle and handsome and had protected him during the ceremony and doted upon him at the banquet, and that he had been kind to him on their wedding night and all they had done was talk and sleep.

Praise be to God for Their love and mercy. I had so worried about your wedding day. I cannot overstate how grateful and relieved I am that you’ve a husband who is considerate of your fears and desires. It is of greatest comfort to me to know that you are well and happy. I love you so.

Eventually, Camdyn read through the entire pile of letters, and the only thing left to do was open the parcel. Cenric had mentioned it a few times—a wedding gift from the monastery.

The shape of it and the sound it had made when Aldaay dropped it onto the desk indicated what it was. Camdyn carefully unwrapped it and found his assumption accurate.

A prayer book.

The cover was a fine example of leatherwork. It was a carved scene of the view of the sea from the beach near the monastery, where Camdyn had spent much of his free time. He ran his fingers over the grooves, admiring the craftsmanship. Then he opened the book, smiling as he was greeted with page after page of illuminations and carefully copied prayers, hymns, and stories. Every new page brought another set of handwriting and a slightly different style of art.

This was no doubt a collaboration between every brother in the monastery.

Camdyn’s suspicions were proven correct when he neared the end of the book. It was slightly lengthier than other prayer books he had seen. The extra pages had him curious.

After the last page of hymns, there was a message written in Cenric’s hand:

This book of hours is dedicated to a young novice whose life path diverged from ours. We have humbly put together this collection of prayers for him and have also had the temerity to include in this additional section the memories we have of his time with us.

Camdyn, may this be a fitting present for your marriage. You might not have become a brother at the monastery, but you will always be a child in our hearts. Let this book be both a devotion to God and a record of our love for you.

Brother Cenric

Blinking back tears, Camdyn turned the page and found a recollection from every monk who had helped raise him. Brother Trian had written of the first day they took him to the beach and dipped his chubby legs into the water, and how he had shrieked with glee. Brother David extolled his virtues for having the patience and hardiness to deal with the cows. The abbot admired his gentle nature and his curiosity, as well as his ability to sneak sweets from the kitchen.

He read through each page, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt, until he reached the end of the book.

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