Tale as old as Time

Prologue: the curse

Princess Cassandra was a person who liked to keep to herself.

She lived in a castle, in the middle of an enchanted forest, surrounded only by the inhabitants of the palace itself. On that fateful night, Cassandra was busy training with her sword, her favorite pastime, when she heard a knock on her door. At first, Cassandra ignored it. No one ever came through the woods. Whoever it was, they were going to find another castle.

The knock came again. With a roll of her eyes, Cassandra sat down her sword, and made her way to the door. She opened it, and was met by a frightening looking older lady. "Please, your majesty." The woman said. "I seek shelter." Cassandra thought about it for a minute. It wouldn't take much to house the woman for a night, and the storm outside was raging. But if Cassandra took the woman in, she'd have to talk to her, and make pleasant conversation. Hard pass.

"My apologies, old traveler." Cassandra said. "But you're going to have to find somewhere else to stay for the night." She turned on her heel to close the door, but the woman caught Cassandra by the arm. "Please." She said, producing a small, perfect red rose. "I have something to offer."

Cassandra looked at the rose, then down at the woman. The trouble of taking care of this woman most certainly couldn't be paid for by a flower. Cassandra shut the door behind her without looking back. And that was when she made the biggest mistake of her life.

The old woman was actually a sorceress in disguise, and she pulled off her cloak, revealing a much younger face, and long purple hair. Cassandra tried time and time again to apologize, but it was too late: she'd had her chance. The sorceress could tell there was no love in Cassandra's heart.

The sorceress looked down at the rose in her hands, and decided on a punishment she deemed fitting. Cassandra would be cursed, and the curse would only be broken if she could bring herself to love someone entirely before the last petal fell. As the sorceress spoke the words, Cassandra's form began to change. Nails grew into talons, and teeth turned to fangs. The transformation had begun.

Cassandra stayed in her attic, for the most part, ashamed to show her new form to the rest of the castle. Little did she know, at this point, but the rest of the castle was experiencing some changes of their own. Cassandra sat on the windowsill, and sliced a large slash through an old painting of her, still as a human. She didn't want to see that anymore. After that, Cassandra fell into despair, sure that the curse would never be broken.

After all, who could learn to love a beast?