A Rose for the Beast

Escaped

Only their soft steps could be heard as Rosalie and her father snuck down the corridor leading away from the dungeon. The hanging torches lit the way, casting firelight and shadows around the darkened castle. They stopped when they arrived at a junction, which veered off in two directions.

Rosalie examind both passages, unnerved by how similar they were. A dozen paintings lined the walls between the many doors on either side and a forest colored rug covered the floor from end to end. She pursed her lips while turning her head back and forth.

"Which way?," her father whispered.

She shook her head, unsure how to answer. She decided to take the right hall on a whim with her father following close behind. When the hall forked again, she nearly groaned in frustration. Then, she heard footsteps marching from one end of the corridor.

Grabbing her father's hand, Rosalie led them into the closest room and quietly pushed the door nearly closed. She peeked out the thin slit, holding her breath as she watched a pair of armed guards walk steadily on down the hall, hands tightly gripping the hilt of their swords. She and her father sighed in relief when the men passed by without noticing them.

"That was close," Rosalie said.

She pulled the door open and carefully peered around the corner to see the cloaked men continue trooping onward. Her father quickly edged down the hall the opposite way. Rosalie continued behind, glancing around for more guards.

The shadowy and desolate castle confused her and not just because there were many twisting passages. She had expected more people lurking, patroling the so-called queen's home. As they snuck from corridor to corridor, she only saw a couple pairs of guards.

"Here!," her father whispered loudly, drawing her attention to a door near the end of the hall they were in.

She approached the small alcove while cautiously surveying each end of the hall for the slightest noise or movement. Rosalie doubted the queen would be merciful if they were found skulking about. She examined the tall wooden door, then turned to her father.

"How do you know this is the way out?," she asked.

"The pentures are 15th century wrought iron," he explained, "Certain metals make different sounds when rubbed together. I recognized the metal from the noise when we were brought in."

She quirked a brow. "You deducted this from sound?"

"None of the other doors have hinges fashioned like this. They're either decorative brass or silver. These are sturdier than the rest. This is a rather large door, much thicker than the others to deter intruders."

"Or escapees," she added, glancing over her should once again.

Victor pulled his handy toolkit out, knelt down on the floor, and began the tedious task of picking the lock. He'd only just slipped the thin metal piece into the hole when Rosalie heard chatter from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She nearly choked on the rising fear as another pair of footsteps came from the other end where Rosalie and her father had just been. She backed up against the door and whispered down to her father with urgency.

"Papa, they're coming. We must leave!"

He lifted his head to scowl at her, "You know better than to rush me when I'm working."

She pursed her lips and gestured to both sides of the hallway.

"You do realize that if we are caught, we'll probably be executed, right? I feel like making haste is prudent at the moment!," she said louder than she'd intended.

"Who's there!?"

The close shout from one side of the hall caused Rosalie to jolt in panic. She quickly reached for the doorknob and twisted it. When the door creaked open, she and her father shared a look of surprise briefly before scrambling outside. They shoved the heavy door closed and leaned back against it. Her heart hammered in her chest as she listened to the guards on the other side.

"There's nobody here."

"They must be hiding in one of the rooms."

"Quickly! Search the castle. And send an envoy to BelleMontagne. Queen Magda will want to be apprised of the situation."

Rosalie's stomach dropped as she heard the conversation. Her father sighed in relief, then dusted off his knees as he pulled away from the door. She tried to summon the motivation to move, but despair slithered through her. Magda could have already hurt or killed everyone in Michel's castle.

"Rosa?"

She finally looked up at her father whose brow wrinkled in concern. She shook her head as her gaze drifted to unfamiliar surroundings. The twisted branches and thick greenery of the forest taunted her.

"It's too late, Papa," she said, her voice raspy with sadness, "Even if we somehow made it through the woods and found the castle, she's already there. I can't do anything to help."

Rosalie buried her face in her hands as tears erupted from her eyes. She felt her father's arms wrap around her, consoling her with a gentle squeeze.

"Now, now, Rosa. You aren't so ignorant to believe that. You are the most capable woman I know. I don't want you putting yourself in danger, so I won't tell you to go off and take on a queen and her army, he said softly, "But, I know your heart guides you just as your mother's once guided her. She chose this poor eccentric inventor because she felt it was the right thing to do. So, daughter, I ask you this..."

He pulled back and Rosalie peered up at him. His baggy skin and raggedy beard showed his age, but looking into his eyes, she saw fatherly wisdom within. He'd raised her alone, brought her up with loose discipline, but a sound set of morals. She was proud to call him her father.

"Would you feel right about leaving here and just finding our way home? Would you be able to do it without looking back with regret?"

She didn't even have to contemplate the questions, the answer to both tumbled out of her mouth without having to think on it.

"No."

Victor opened his mouth to reply, but someone else interrupted their private conversation.

"Good. Nice to know you haven't given up on us just yet."

Rosalie looked over her father's shoulder and her jaw dropped. She stared at the animal just beyond the treeline, its golden eyes gleaming in the light of dusk. The white wolf stood there with a smirk and she grinned in return.

Hope suddenly didn't seem so far from her grasp. Now, it was just within reach and Rosalie mustered all of her strength of will, daring to take hold. Despite the peril, her body buzzed in anticipation for the battle ahead and the oppurtunity to see Michel once again.