Winter's Rose ~A Beauty and the Beast Retelling~

The Debt

Rosalind loved her place by the stream. She loved to hear the sound of water gurgling as it traveled across the stones to an unknown destination. The brisk late November air carried the smell of the bakery down to her from the town. The smell for her was fall, a sweet nutty spice smell that seemed to be omnipresent every year at this time.

Her toes curled around the gritty mud, she loved the feeling. She remembered mud--thick and brown. She remembered the sight of many things. The color of the sky, grass, her mother's face. She missed her. Being older now, she is thankful she never had to see her mother's body, she is glad her mother's image wasn't tarnished by death.

She could hear the birds singing as they jumped from branch to branch. She had become attuned to those sort of things; her sight maybe gone, but her other senses are not. She leaned back allowing the beam of sun to touch her face, a warm and inviting feeling. It was quiet and peaceful; an escape.

Her brother treats her as if she was an infant--fragile and tiny. Her father was no better. After the attack they had made a home for themselves here. Her father became a carpenter and her brother worked in the stables of the inn. She felt useless here. Her family hated that she went to the stream by herself, but she knew the way. Her father had made her a walking stick; she uses it to feel for unwanted obstacles in her path. Or if Andrew is being a nuisance she takes a whack at him.

Crack!

She heard it, a twig snapping in half. She knew who it was--she had learned the sound of people's foot falls. Andrew. He was no doubt coming to check on her. She felt around in the dirt with her fingertips until she felt a smooth stone. Her hand closed around it, and she waited. The footfalls were closer now, and Rosalind could feel the edges of her lips curving into a smile. She turned in the direction of the sound of the footsteps and tossed the pebble.

"Ow! Damn it!" She began to laugh as she heard her brother's voice. He gave up on trying to sneak up on her and fell into place next to her. "You need to stop doing that."

"Stop what? Having good aim?" She laughed. He pushed her shoulder slightly. "Where did I hit you this time?"

"The forehead," he grimaced.

"Damn, I was hoping for a tad lower."

"You're an evil little imp, aren't you?" He laughed. Rosalind smiled, this has been going on over the course of a month. He came every day to try and talk her into living with their aunt. A bitter old woman who had never spent time in the sun a day in her life; an utter bore. He thought it would be safer there than here.

The throne had been empty nearly seven years, the castle remained abandoned. It's said that a monster of sorts lurks inside the castle walls like a ghost. It is absurd. No one had any accounts of this squatter, well, a side from the town drunks who claim to have been attacked outside the palace gates. The longer the throne sits empty, the more the lords feel entitled to reign over their lands. They over tax the towns claiming that they are protecting the people from the beast that lurks in the woods--the same mythical beast that haunts the castle. Rosalind thinks it is utterly ridiculous.

"Have you given anymore thought to it?" Andrew asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I am not going," she said sharply. "You cannot send me away. I am not a child anymore." She felt his arm around her shoulders. She clung to him. "Please do not send me away, Andrew." He remained silent for a few moments, before helping her to her feet. She slipped her shoes back onto her feet; no more mud, no more memories.