Rosalind - Beauty and the Beast meets Dracula retelling

57- Home

Harlan slipped off his steed with such haste he almost fell. He welcomed his only daughter with an embrace and joyous tears in his eyes.

Rosalind returned the hug yet inside she felt like dying. Feeling her father hold her should have made her feel better than it was.

When Harlan choked out apologies and words meant to be soothing, all Rosalind could do was look over his shoulder toward the manor.

"Have you been treated well?" he asked as he held her at arm's length to take a look at her. She looked the same, albeit thinner and somewhat paler. "Were you treated as the lord had promised?" He added cautiously, "With respect?"  Worry furrowed his brow, for a month he fretted whether Rosalind was cared for as the beast had sworn to.

"The lord upheld his promise, father," she gently replied. "He gave me a beautiful room in which to reside, meals fit for royalty and the freedom to do as I wished within the manor and the forest. I longed for nothing." When she saw Harlan frown, she added, "Except my family."

Satisfied by her reply and the fact that she was returning to her family, Harlan helped her upon the horse, secured her bags and they headed back towards their home.

During the ride, Rosalind had to fight the tears. As they headed through the low-hanging fog, she wished it would swallow her up and transport her back to the Borgo.

Upon nearing the Hershel's house, Rosalind and Harlan were welcomed by the house staff and Rosalind's brothers who all waiting outside for her return. When she dismounted, Jacob and Julian ran to her, each brother lifted her up in turn and twirled her around. "Welcome home, sister," said Jacob as he kissed her cheek and set her down.

"It is good to be back," she lied through a smile.

The house staff bowed politely, unsure of how to act for they did not know how she had been treated. As she passed them they peeked up and welcomed her home with soft voices. Rosalind nodded to each of them but it was Clarie she reached for and embraced. "It is good to see you, my friend."

"It is good to have you back, miss."

Rosalind wanted to take Clarie by the hand and run into the warmth of the kitchen where she could share every secret she had brought with her. But what had happened in the manor between her and the two men had to remain hidden away in the depths of her soul like an unspeakable sickness.

"We thought a quiet dinner with your favourite foods would be a good way to welcome you home, my dear," Harlan said as he ushered his daughter inside. "Clairie will take your bags upstairs and draw you a bath. We shall eat in a couple of hours." He looked at Rosalind with a cautious smile. "Will that be alright?"

Rosalind had no appetite. She wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep forever. But she managed a smile for her father. "Thank you. I am looking forward to it, father."

Giving Harlan a kiss on the cheek, Rosalind led Clairie upstairs, each step feeling like she had weights on her feet.

The dinner with her family was full of chatter, mostly from her brothers who tried to keep the situation light. But whenever they looked at her, Rosalind saw questions in their gaze. Have you been violated? Have you been treated as a lady or someone's whore? Rosalind found herself filling her goblet with sweet red wine more than once as she pursed her lips and half-listened to her brother's chatter.

It was not until dinner had finished and she excused herself that Julien cornered her and spoke of that which she feared. "Was he unkind to you?"

"No, Julian."

Her brother's gaze moved over her face, seeking the right answers. "You were not...violated in any way, were you? He did not try to –"

Rosalind cut him off angrily, "The lord of the manor was a perfect gentleman." When Julian scoffed, she wanted to strike him. "Do you not believe your own sister?"

"Somehow I cannot believe a monster like him having you as his honored guest and nothing more."

Rosalind shot daggers at him. "What are you implying?"

"That he tried something to make you his whore."

Rosalind saw red. "If I tell you that he did not then take my words for it." Visions of her asking Caspian to bed her flooded her brain. It had not been him who had made the first move, it had been her. Yes, he had wanted to, but it all had happened when she said so. "He is not the man you think."

"Man?" Julien scoffed. "He is a beast, Rosalind. Nothing more."

Rage boiled inside her and entwined with the ache of leaving the Borgo behind. "You are a fool," Rosalind hissed and pushed by her brother to run up the stairs and slam the door of her room shut.

Through her window, the world did not look the same. The ill-fitting night was suffocating. There was nothing for her outside the confinement of her four walls. For the first time in a long time, Rosalind felt like a prisoner.

Her bed felt familiar. The comfort of her pillow was as it always had been. She clutched it under her head and stared blankly at the walls. Shadows shifted into lacy patterns. The moon was bright enough to cast light upon the small table where she kept her brush and ribbons. Upon the hard mahogany wood, the butterfly pin shimmered silvery.

The three goblets of wine she had drunk swam with the thoughts in her head. Troy's parting words came like a caress. Though he knew that she had been immoral, he told her he cared and would for all time. "Why are you so good?" she had asked him. His words echoed, "Because it is how men should be." "Sweet, beautiful Troy," Rosalind cried. "How could I have acted the way I have and you still care for me? I am not a woman. I am a wretched beast suited for your father not for you."

Rosalind blinked at the shadows as the memory of Troy was cruelly snatched away by a vision being replayed upon her wall. The vision of her writhing on Caspian's lap. The silence of the night became a sound of passion, growing louder until Rosalind had to clasp her hands over her ears, yet the sound turned into a buzz within her, like a swarm of bees. The vision grew brighter. She saw the way the shadow of her and the lord moved upon the wolf's hide. Though the hide they had been on last night was grey, this one was pure white, like snow. The shadowy Caspian arched his head back and Rosalind saw herself tear his shirt open, buttons flying towards her like bullets. Yelping and squirming under the covers, she brought a hand up to ward off the buttons. When she looked back up, Rosalind saw herself pushing Caspian on his back. He closed his eyes as she hitched her dress up. The moonlight stole the light from the pin and shone it upon Rosalind's hand as she raised it above Caspian.

In her bed, Rosalind witnessed it all. Swiping her hands over her eyes, she tried to make it stop but her attempt was futile. Her heart raced and a scream built up inside her as she saw her phantom's hand come down, blood spurting from Caspian's lips, and the wolf's hide turned from white to red.