A Rose for the Beast

A Stealthy Operation

Silence seemed to cling to every wall of the castle. The thought of being captured again, or worse, made her apprehensive. No matter how daunting it was to slip around with guards littering every corner, she refused to give up.

The green cloaked hunters occasionally moved from their posts to patrol their assigned halls, making it difficult for Rosalie to sneak past. She managed to quietly move from the servant's quarters to the doorway underneath the grand staircase, though she suspected her fortune may leave her soon.

Two men stood at the bottom of the stairs holding loaded crossbows at the ready. She peered up to find a second pair on the landing leading to both wings of the castle. They were armed as well. They turned every few seconds to check the stairs and the ballroom door at their backs.

Rosalie bit her lip, pulling back into the shadow of the doorway and out of sight. Pressing her back against the wall, her gaze darted around the area searching for some obvious answer to her current predicament. When her eyes landed on an empty vase that sat atop a pedestal, she devised a plan.

Carefully creeping from the doorway, she reached out to grab the large porcelain container. The shifting of the vase when she lifted it produced a scraping sound, causing her pulse to race as she glanced at the hunters. When they made no indication of noticing her, she breathed a sigh of relief.

The ornate object in her hands probably had more monetary value than anything she owned, but she assured herself that the end result would be worth the loss. Rosalie looked up and waited for the opportune moment. When the guards on the landing turned their backs to her, she heaved the vase up high.

It flew up and over the staircase to land on the other side, shattering against the marble floor on impact. She cringed at the sound. Both pairs of guards immediately left their posts to investigate, giving her the cue to move. She swiftly climbed the stairs and made sure to bend low enough that they wouldn't see her. When she got to the West Wing hallway, she huffed out another relieved breath as she tried to steady her stammering heartbeat.

She composed herself and gazed down the hall toward Michel's chambers.

Almost there, she thought.

She heard a door slam shut downstairs followed by the sound of someone running.

"Do a full sweep of the castle! I found two of our men dead outside. There's an intruder here! Find them!"

The shout from below sent her into a panic. She ran directly to Michel's room, grabbing the door handle with urgency. It didn't turn and she realized the door was locked. She shoved against it several times until she knew her shoulder would bruise. It didn't budge.

Rosalie rushed toward the wall and rubbed her hands over every inch, searching for the entrance to the hidden passage. The torn and crumbling walls offered her no solice. Pulling herself away, she went to one of the other rooms just as footsteps began climbing the stairs to the West Wing. She entered quickly and pushed the door closed as quietly as she could.

The darkness swallowed her as she placed her ear against the door. The shattering of wood pierced the silence as the hunter's broke a door down at the end of the hall, causing her to jerk away. Rosalie glance around the dark room, but without light, she couldn't make out what any of the objects were.

She blindly reached out, touching and handling anything she could find in hopes of coming upon something she could use as a weapon. By the loud noises coming through the stone walls, she knew they were wrecking everything just to find her. 

She began searching while the guards continued breaking doors down.

First, she found a dresser with several glass bottles and a few different sized combs and brushes on its surface. Moving away, she walked into a large object, stubbing her foot against a solid base. Biting her tongue to keep from crying out, she laid her hand out on a soft, plush mattress. Assuming that a pillow or blankets wouldn't do well in defending herself, she edged her way around to the other side where she found a small nightstand.

She felt a tall glass object and smelled familiar fumes. It was an oil lamp. A single book rested beside it, but nothing else. As she turned, her foot nudged against something on the floor by the bed. Rosalie kneeled to pick it up, realizing it was a hand mirror.

"Whose room is this?," she whispered to herself.

"Mine," came a reply from behind her, causing her to jump up and spin, eyes scanning the blackness in fear.

Suddenly, every candle and lamp in the room ignited, revealing none other than Queen Magda. The maniacal smile she gave Rosalie sent a chill down her spine.