A Rose for the Beast

Locked Inside

Michel broke their heated stare, his eyes drifting down to look at Rosalie's messy attire. She blushed and folded her hands nervously in front of her.

"I, um, I guess I'm not dressed for this kind of formal setting," she mumbled.

Michel nodded and took her hand, pulling her out of the room. She trailed behind him, inwardly beaming at the warmth his hand embracing her own. They made their way up the grand marble staircase until they reached the landing. A white door with golden designs sat at the top and the stairs veered off in two directions.

He steered her to the right and up to the second floor hallway. The small scones dotting the upper part of the soft blue walls illuminated several white statues lining either side of the hall. Rosalie explored ahead while Michel stayed a few steps behind, letting her indulge in her curiosity.

Three doors occupied this wing of the castle and she peeked into them one by one. The first had a lavish tub and basin as well as a very modern lavatory. Closing that door, she skipped across the hall to look into the second room.

Cloth covered every piece of furniture and even the paintings on the walls. The heavy curtains hanging over the windows blocked any light from entering. Rosalie pulled herself from the doorway and peered over at Michel, who seemed amused by her interest.

"I suppose I'll have to prepare my own quarters?," she asked.

He tilted his head forward, directing her to the last door on the right at the end of the hall. She gave him a cheeky grin, then spun to race toward the last room. Holding her breath in anticipation she pushed the door open.

Rosalie's jaw dropped as she took in the glamorous decor. The moonlight shining in from two glass doors to the balcony outside made everything in the room visible. A giant canopy bed with purple curtains and blankets sat on the far wall. A matching settee and couch with silver embellishments occupied the nearest left corner, circling a beautiful pearly white vanity set. A fireplace stood on the right side of the room, mantle covered with a variety of trinkets and treasures.

It seemed like a fantasy and she very nearly pinched herself again to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Michel cleared his throat, drawing her attention to the right corner. He opened a door she hadn't noticed was there and waved a hand inside. She bit her lip as she walked over, peeking up at him through her lashes.

Michel grinned and slid past her to open the curtains on the three windows within the smaller room. The soft light penetrated the darkness, revealing a vast array of colorful dresses and gowns. Her eyes scanned every row of clothing, fingers itching to touch the expensive material.

"It's yours. You may explore the East Wing to your heart's content, but venture nowhere else," he said, cutting into her elation.

"Thank you?," she said with uncertainty, "Why can't I go anywhere else? What about the West Wing?"

She thought she heard him growl, then he stomped out of the room, prompting her to follow.

"It's dangerous. That's all you need to know," he grated as he yanked the door to the hall open forcefully.

"Wait, why--," she tried to finish her question, but he slammed the door in her face.

Rosalie grabbed the doorknob just as it clicked. He'd just locked her inside. She punched and banged on the door, but he didn't return. After several minutes and a couple of bruised knuckles later, she leaned her back against the stubbornly solid door, sliding down to the floor in defeat.

Just as she was about to fall asleep from total exhaustion, she saw a small creaturing ambling toward her from underneath the bed. Upon closer inspection, she realized the creature was a turtle.

What a strange pet to have, she thought.

It slowly crawled across the floor to her feet and peered up at her. Rosalie tilted her head slightly and squinted. Was that turtle observing her?

"You really should be careful. Master has quite the temper," the tiny animal said.

She shook her head and pulled off her slipper to wave it at the reptile, attempting to scare it away.

"Oh, apologies for my rudeness. Good Evening, Madame. I am Shelldon Dubois, the majordomo, Master's chief steward."

Rosalie tried to address the creature, knowing how delirious she would seem, but a rabbit hopped out of the closet.

"Ignore him, chére. He is a bit slow, if you catch my drift," the rabbit said as it jumped around the turtle.

Her mind tried to reconcile what she was seeing, but she simply couldn't comprehend everything she'd experienced that day. The chaotic events and her unruly emotions frayed over the last remnants of her nerves.

Rosalie slumped over to the floor as her vision blurred.

"Look what you've done now, Carotte."

"Me? I didn't bore her to death with my sluggish movements and unpleasant appearance," the rabbit replied.

"Oh, please. Rabbits are flea ridden vermin. I am obviously the superior creature."

"Then, I suppose you'll be able to make it to the master before I inform him of what you've done to our guest?"

"What? Why, you...I will have you know--," the stammering from the reptile was the last thing she heard before succumbing to unconsciousness.