Rosalind - Beauty and the Beast meets Dracula retelling

69- Vicious Truths

Rosalind exited her room in the early evening. She had managed to run a brush through her hair and slip into a long, blue dress. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw that she had gotten thinner and paler. Her face, once soft ivory, was nearly as pasty as the snow. Dark circles looked like stains under her green eyes. She made her way to the kitchen and sat heavily upon a chair as the three maids turned in unison her way.

Silence fell like a suffocating blanket. Esther and Rue gave Rosalind a swift curtsey then scampered off muttering something about having to dust the sitting room.

All alone with her mistress, Clairie set her dishtowel down and filled a glass with water. Carrying the glass to the table, the maid sat across Rosalind. "I swore my discretion to you," she began gently, "anything you tell me I will keep to myself."

Rosalind looked at her wearily. Words failed her now. In the clutches of intoxication and sorrow, syllables had died.

Pushing the water to her, Clairie spoke, "If you drink a few glasses of water when you wake, it will make the feeling go away."

Putting her head in her hands, Rosalind muttered, "What feeling is that?"

"The feeling one gets when one empties a bottle of wine. I have eyes, my lady. It is not the first one that has gone missing. Your brothers and father drink brandy yet since you have arrived many bottles of red have vanished." When Rosalind looked up at her through narrowed eyes, Clarie went on, "I am not chastising nor judging. There is a good reason behind this, is there not?"

Reaching out for the water, Rosalind's gaze softened and she nodded.

"Is it the beast, my lady? Something beyond the fact that it is your destiny to kill him?" Clarie asked as Rosalind took a sip.

When the water went down the wrong way, Rosalind sputtered. Trying to regain her composure, she took a few deep breaths and choked out, "You know nothing."

 "You called his name last night."

 "I was intoxicated last night. I could have called out any name."

 "But it was not any name, my lady. It was his."

Rosalind shook her head. "No, it was just a name."

 "The beast's."

 "Stop calling him that!" Rosalind banged the glass on the table hard enough for Clairie to feel the vibration.

"He is Caspian to you," Claire whispered tearily. 

Covering her eyes, Rosalind nodded. She could not bear to look at Clarie for shame had come and perched upon her shoulders. "Yes," she admitted, "Lord Caspian, the monster. The Borgo Beast who has rained a century of hell over Transylvania." Lowering her hands she tried to look at her maid yet Rosalind's gaze faltered. "The creature my father and brothers sent me to live with. I called his name."

 "You were brave to go when your family was in trouble." Clarie took Rosalind's hand and squeezed gently. "You saved your kin. That is a grand thing to do. A heroic thing."

 "Yet by saving my kin I have damned myself." A tear trickled down Rosalind's cheek. "Do you want to know the truth?" Pausing, she saw Clarie hold her breath then nod. "He is a beast. I saw him return to the manor with blood-lust in his eyes, the scent of it lingering in the air. I saw him speak unkindly to others – bitter, harsh words that leave wounds worse than those made by swords. I heard him tell me that he enjoys the suffering and pain he spreads over the land. That he longs for death and destruction like it is some sort of drink to quench his thirst." Rosalind lowered her voice, her mind drifting away to a place that held her heart, "Yet he was kind to me. He treated me like a lady, as he promised my father he would."

Clairie felt the blood draining from her face as she listened. "He...he was kind to you. That is an honorable thing but does it erase the pandemonium he has caused for a century? Does it erase the fact that he is a killer?"

 "No," Rosalind choked, "It does not. But I saw a side he kept hidden away. A private, loving side that..." Swallowing back a sob, she slipped her hands out of Clarie's and cupped them over her mouth.

 "That what, my lady?" Clairie asked yet she was fearful of the answer that would soon come.

Lowering her hands, a whisper came from Rosalind, "That took my breath away." Wiping the tear away she began to confess her sins. "Stefan was not my lover." One by one, her truths spilled onto the table. "Caspian was. And now, I find out I am supposed to kill him and..." Another sob erupted within her, a deep and violent one which exploded and fragmented in the air.

"Dear God," Clarie whispered and crossed herself. "You did not give your maidenhood to him, did you?"

Shaking her head, Rosalind felt herself falling deeper into shame, regret and brutal longing. "No. He was not the first. Caspian has a son...a beautiful, kind young man about my age. Clairie, the young lord is a delicate soul, cursed because of his father's cruelty."

 "You..." Clairie blanched.

"I let the son have me first."

Clairie brought her trembling hand to her forehead. Not able to fathom what Rosalind was saying, she looked at her mistress bewildered and faint. "Perhaps I can understand taking the son as a lover," she said almost inaudibly. "If he is nothing like his father and is a gentle soul, I understand but you..." Clarie drew in a deep breath, "you let the beast take you?"

 "No," Rosalind cried loudly. "I took him. I fucked him because I wanted him more than I have ever wanted anyone. Because I love him." Shaking from emotion, Rosalind watched as her maid's own eyes filled with tears. "How do I kill him now, Clarie? How?"