Beauty
by Robin McKinley
The castle rose up before her like a sunrise, its towers and
battlements reaching hundreds of feet into the sky. It was of grey
stone, huge block set on blocks; but it caught the sunlight like a
dolphin's back at dawn. It stood silent, the windows dark, apparently
deserted. But not quite deserted, Beauty told herself unyhappily. The
castle, the garden, the very forest itself -- the enchanted lair of
the Beast. For Beauty, a luxuriously appointed gaol -- and her
sentence was indefinite.
Beauty and the Beast
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