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The Beast turned back to me. I could look at him fairly steadily this time. After a moment he said harshly: "I am very ugly, am I not?"
"You are certainly, uh, very hairy," I said.
"You are being polite," he said.
"Well, yes," I conceded. "But then you called me beautiful, last night."
He made a noise somewhere between a roar and a bark, and after an anxious minute, I decided it was probably a laugh. "You do not believe me then?" he inquired.
"Well'-no," I said, hesitantly, wondering if this might anger him. "Any number of mirrors have told me otherwise."
"You will find no mirrors here," he said, "for I cannot bear them: nor any quiet water in ponds. And since I am the only one who sees you, why are you not then beautiful?

( Robin McKinley )
[ Beauty: A Retelling of the ]
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