Rosalind - Beauty and the Beast meets Dracula retelling

67- Blood In The Snow

Rosalind's father and brothers left just as the sun was cracking open over the horizon. She watched as their horses got further and further away. The land before her was a state of uneven lines. The wine she had drunk the night before remained in her system and refused to go.

When she was called into the house by Clairie, Rosalind pondered running off towards the direction of the Borgo and vanishing forever.

"Miss, come. I have a cup of tea ready for you." Clairie took hold of Rosalind's arm and led her to the kitchen.

A cup of steaming tea waited for her. Thanking Clairie, Rosalind wrapped her hands around it and closed her eyes. She felt out of place, like one of Caspian's horses were they led into her father's stables. It was wrong, she no longer belonged for she had come back different.

The house was alive with the sound of potatoes being peeled and counters being cleaned. In the far corner of the kitchen, Rosalind heard Esther and Rue speaking. Paying no mind until she heard a familiar name, she had been lost in the steam of her tea until Stefan Moldovan's name was dropped from Esther's lips.

"What was that, Esther?" Rosalind asked as she rose unsteadily from the table.

When Esther opened her mouth to speak, Clairie rushed to her and swiped her with a dishtowel. "I am sure the butcher has been waiting at the front door for at least ten minutes now. Go fetch the meat." Though no one had knocked on the door, Clairie was adamant Esther leave.

"Tonight is not his day to come," Esther reminded the younger maid when Clairie kept insisting. With confusion drawn on her face, the older maid headed to the door to check.

A frown knitted Rosalind's brows. Her maid's persistence that Esther leave was curious. When she cast a look to Rue, the other maid simply bit her lip and dashed to the pantry.

"Why have you sent Esther away when you know the butcher does not come on a Monday? And why did Rue run off as though she was a rat on a sinking ship?" Rosalind asked Claire.

The maid stepped closer to Rosalind, her voice was soft. "They gossip when they should be working, that is all," she lied.

Before Clarie could walk away from Rosalind, her mistress grabbed her arm to stop her. "Why were they talking about Stefan?"

Looking at Rosalind, the maid knew she would not be able to come up with something fictional to say. Sooner or later, her mistress would find out the truth. Claire decided perhaps it would be better coming from her. "Miss... they found Stefan's body last night."

Outside the window, the snow fell heavily, hiding any track any person or creature may have left behind.

"What do you mean?" Rosalind asked, her voice raising in worry. When the maid gestured for her to sit, she declined. "Tell me what the devil is going on."

Casting a glance to the door, Clairie cursed the other maids for speaking. "My lady," she said turning to Rosalind. "Stefan Moldovan and two of his companions were out bear hunting. He was killed." Lowering her voice, she continued, "Slaughtered. Someone ripped him open from chin to belly."

Shock ran down Rosalind's spine like a cube of ice. The room began to sway. "What?" she said in disbelief.

"The Borgo Beast, my lady. He has murdered your lover."

"No," came a broken whisper, "it is not true. You are lying to me!" Picking up her skirt, Rosalind turned and ran to her room slamming the door with such force the whole house shook.

Rosalind refused to speak to anyone for the rest of the day. When Clairie left her a tray of food outside her door and begged her to eat, Rosalind ignored her.

She lay in her bed clutching her pillow tight. She shed no tears for Stefan but the ache became a disease eating her up inside. She felt guilt. She felt responsible. What a fool I am, she thought bitterly. I believed he had changed, that he was no longer the monster everyone said he was. Why did he kill Stefan? Under her bed, the vorpal blade sang a soft tune, when she closed her eyes she heard it hover faintly around her. No, Rosalind buried her face in the pillow, I cannot! I will not! The blade sang of death in the forest and of revenge. "Stop it," Rosalind groaned into the pillow. "I will not do it. I will not kill Caspian no matter what he does." Yet beliefs were made to be shattered.

In the forest, not too far from where Stefan's body was found, a black bear cub cried for its mother. A female bear full of muscle and teeth trotted out from behind a cluster of trees and hurried towards her worried child. The mother bear nuzzled her small one, lovingly, protectively. As the two bears headed towards their cave, the mother's long claws left behind faded blood-prints in the snow.