The Blossoming: A Retelling of Beauty & the Beast

Chapter 1

Joanna walked across the deck of the large merchant vessel. Her long nightgown billowed in the sea breeze. She remained fixed on the sky. It was partly cloudy. Joanna turned to look behind her. The crew of the ship moved frantically on the deck. Some were wide-eyed, pointing at the sky. She followed their direction. Dark clouds filled the once-serene sky. Lightning flashed in the distance. The winds grew furious, whipping the water into rough waves. The ship. Joanna held on as tight as she could. The next crash against the ship was rough. Her grip slipped and her body flew toward the dark monstrous waters. She opened her mouth to scream.

As soon as she could feel the sharp cold water, Joanna rose, whipping the sheets off her. She was in her room. The morning light reassured her of her current reality. Most of the furniture that decorated her room was covered up. This morning was her last in this bedroom she had known all her life.

Jean Beaumont's shoulder slumped heavily as he carried the last two bags as he stepped off the last steps of the spiral staircase. His footsteps bounced off the bare walls of the large and empty entrance hall. It wasn't the weight of the bags that caused his position but the fact that the two bags and their contents were all that could be salvaged, the only possessions that survived the tragedy that was the fall of the Beaumont wealth. He scanned the entrance hall, void of the rich furnishings and the decorative statues he purchased and collected over the three decades. Defeated, he bowed his head and walked out.

Jean walked down the steps onto the path that led to the readied coach and swung the bags on top of the roof. When he came down, he came face to face with his youngest daughter, Joanna. Her sympathetic brown eyes gazed up at him. He could feel her comfort and strength emanating from her gaze. He lightly smiled.

"Hello, angel."

"Is that all," asked the impatient voice of Julianna.

He looked to the right and saw his oldest along with his middle daughter, Josephine, blending in the shadows with their deep mourning clothes on. Julianna wore a mourning bonnet as Josephine wore a black lace veil that further concealed her face. They were ready to go to a funeral. The funeral of the Beaumont prosperity. Two days ago, the stores, the merchandise, and all of his merchant business were destroyed and now they were buried, moving away from their old life. They could no longer afford to keep it. There was no way to resuscitate this life.

"Yes, love," Jean answered. "That's all of it."

"Can we hurry up before anyone wakes up and sees us," Josephine rushed.

Jean couldn't agree more. He already faced humiliation over the days and he didn't want to face more judgmental whispering and eyes. He stepped up onto the cart seat, picked up the riding whip in his left hand, and sat down. He looked over at his former abode, a Midas gold-colored seventeenth-century three-story house crowned by an iron silver sky. It was the first house he shared with his late wife, Hope. Where all three of their beautiful, precious daughters grew up. It was the venue of many parties where other merchants, businessmen, and their families attended. Now it was just an empty building that waited to be inhabited by another.

Jean looked ahead at Anton, the dark liver chestnut Arabian attached to the cart. A sense of gratitude sprung in his heart as he was very grateful to keep him. He bent down and collected the reins in his left hand. He took a deep inhale and exhaled.

"Walk on," he said as he motioned the reins.

Anton obeyed and took the Beaumont family down the path toward the gates. As soon as they passed the threshold of the gates onto Chemin du Viaduc, Jean felt a cool wet drop fall onto his right cheek. Another drop made contact with his coat. Soon, a drizzle descended. Jean had no umbrella but he gladly welcomed the water of Heaven, hoping it would wash away his anxiety.