“Prince, what are you barking at? Is it a bird?”

He barks even louder.

“Prince! Stop it!”

“I’m not a bird,” says a booming voice.

Huh?

I look up to see a young man swinging from one of the branches. He is wearing a striped blue-and-white suit. He has purple hair.

“Howdy!” he says.

“Hello,” I say. I feel that creepy-crawly feeling down my back. “Do I know you?”

He’s holding a silver-and-red yo-yo in his hand and he throws it up and down and up and down. “I’m Jax.”

Jax? Who’s Jax? Wait! “You’re the jealous fairy who cursed Mr. Beast!”

Chapter Fifteen: Jax Strikes Back

I take a quick step back.

“Jealous?” Jax pouts. “You’re right. I was jealous. He had everything. Wealth. Health. Extreme good looks. And he was even nice. All the girls wanted to marry him. They used to line up on the streets to meet him! Did anyone line up on the streets to meet me? No. Never! And I have magical powers! Did anyone care? No one cared! They all liked him for his looks! Blah. I had to do something about it.”

I hug myself and glare at Jax. “You did do something about it. You cursed him.”

He cackles. “Yes. And he was only supposed to turn back when a woman agreed to marry him despite his beastly looks.”

“She did!” I call out. “Beauty agreed to marry him! And she didn’t know about the curse! I swear!”

“I know, I know,” Jax sighs. “That’s why he changed back. I couldn’t stop it.” He flips over and hangs from the branch by his knees. “But! But, but, but. She didn’t agree to marry him because she loved him for who he was, now, did she?”

I clear my throat. “Well, not exactly …”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he says. He wags his finger at me. “She doesn’t love him! She agreed to marry him because you told her it was a good deed. And Beauty is quite the do-gooder, isn’t she? Orphans, soup kitchens, grumpy great-grandmas. You took advantage of her, didn’t you? You preyed on her weakness and found a loophole in my curse.”

My shoulders tense. “I guess. Maybe. But I had to. And what difference does it make? They were going to fall in love anyway.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ll tell you what. Your shenanigans annoy me. A lot. I think you deserve to be punished. Do you think you deserve to be punished?”

A wave of dread washes over me.

“No!” I cry. “Don’t punish me!” But even as I say the words, a deep-down part of me does think I deserve to be punished.

Not for tricking Beauty into agreeing to marry Mr. Beast.

But for ruining Penny’s painting.