A Rose for the Beast

Captured

Darkness reigned in the room where Rosalie and her father were being kept. The eerie sounds filling the area sent a chill through her. The squeaking of the rats as they skittered across the stone floor was unsettling. The dripping of water echoed off the walls.

Her father had been quiet since they'd been forcefully taken from their home and deep into the woods. She didn't know where thay had gone, since the hunters had blindfolded them before kidnapping them. Rosalie hadn't noticed any changes in the climate on the way, so she knew they weren't in Michel's territory.

She assumed they were sitting somewhere in Magda's castle, specifically, in her dungeon. Thick chains linked to the wall kept them from escaping. They clanked as she shifted to look at her father, who stared blankly ahead.

"Papa?," she whispered.

Victor swallowed and turned his head toward her.

"I'm so sorry," he said with tears in his eyes, "I should have protected you. If I hadn't left for that stupid convention..."

Rosalie shook her head, chest tightening at the sight of her father crying.

"No, Papa. This isn't your fault. It's mine. I should have pushed Bastien away instead of always trying to be polite. Then, we never would have come into the forest. You're in danger because of me and if I could take it all back, I would. Even if," she said, her voice catching slightly on the words, "Even if I never got to meet Michel."

Her father raised his grey brows.

"Michel? Who is that?"

Rosalie wanted to laugh at the sudden interest, amazed at how the mention of a man had changed Victor's hope expression into an interrogative one. The dire situation snatched away the humor.

"He's the one who that queen wants to hurt. I think she plans on using me to do it."

"Why? What do you have to do with any of this?"

She sighed deeply, then regaled to him a very simplified version of events, leaving out the talking animals and Michel's transformation.

Her father's face pinched in anger.

"Bastien attacked you and then you went off with some stranger for half a week?!"

Rosalie flinched at his harsh tone.

"I knew you were adventurous, but I never dreamed you'd be so reckless! That man could have killed you and noone would have ever known! I wouldn't have been able to find you!"

Her gaze fell to the floor, unable to mask the shame. She couldn't deny that she'd made rash decisions. But, as she recalled all of the time she'd spent with Michel, she couldn't muster any amount of guilt. Not when his life and the lives of his servants were in danger.

"I know I'm a disappointment, Michel is a good man. He doesn't deserve whatever she plans on doing to him. I have to get out of here to warn him."

She listened as her father took a deep breath in. After a few seconds of silence he spoke with a more even tone.

"You could never disappoint me, Rosalie. I'm sorry for raising my voice. This is just a lot to take in. I can't understand how so much happened in the short time I was gone."

She searched the room again, but saw nothing that could aid in breaking them out. Her wrists throbbed against the chaffing metal cuffs. She tried rubbing them, but the bulky chains were too tight for her fingers to fit. Rosalie dropped her hands into her lap and leaned her head back against the wall.

"So," she said, "How was the convention?"

Her father chuckled and leaned his head back to stare at the dark ceiling.

"I sold my invention."

Rosalie turned her head to look at him in surprise. It usually took weeks to secure a sale. Most people didn't appreciate his genius and she hadn't expected a buyer so soon.

"That's great, Papa! Congratulations," she said sincerely.

"Yes, well, it won't do me much good while we are stuck in here," he replied as he reached for the pocket on his trousers.

When her father pulled out his little travel toolkit, she raised a brow. He opened it and took out two items. She watched as he stuck them inside the lock of his cuffs. A few moments of tinkering and one of the metal chains fell from his wrist.

Rosalie's eyes widened as she marveled at her father's lock picking skills. He glanced at her and laughed.

"I like to see how things work. Locks are my specialty."

"How did I not know that?"

"Well, I don't make it a habit of being locked up, Rosalie," he said dryly.

She squinted at him, though his sarcasm was funny to her. He grinned and made quick work of his remaining cuff, then he freed her.

"What do we do now?," Victor asked.

Rosalie stood up with her father, rubbing the sting from her wrists as she contemplated. She strolled to the only door and pulled on it, but it didn't budge.

"I have to warn Michel about Bastien and the queen. But first, we need to get out of here. The door is locked."

Her father held up his little toolkit and smiled.