Rosalind: Book One

25 - A Rose in Eternal Winter

Rosalind headed to the small window in the library and parted the velvet curtains aside. The night carried thick around the lord's land and spread as far as the eye can see. There was a ghastly silence around her and she was certain it lead to the outside, as well. Everything was white. The snow was fresh, pristine, and pure white as it blanketed the ground. There were no animal nor human prints of any kind on the snow, no indication that anything alive ever frolicked there. Flakes as big as rosebuds fell to the ground in utter silence.

Rosalind placed her hand on the window and welcomed the chill. Her dress matched the shade of snow, blinding white like a bride's gown, all apart from the small specks of blood that twined into the fabric. It was that coppery scent that led the beast to his guest.

Caspian's nose twitched as he walked though the hall. The blood-scent was rich, a perfume. The stag he had slaughtered lay in the butcher's room so the lord knew it had not magically rose from the dead to gallivant around his manor. Someone must have found the deer. Someone must have got too close.

My guest. She does not fear a kill, Caspian thought as he pulled his long, black cape around his shoulders. Blood perhaps calls to her.

Caspian's deep blue eyes searched the door of the library. When he pushed it open a sliver, he caught sight of Rosalind standing by the window. Against a backdrop of darkness and mist she stood. The lord caught himself lingering by the threshold to watch her slide her hand over the chill of the glass. Inside the monster, the beast which was Caspian was brought to his knees by her presence, and the man inside crept forth to witness her. The man who only Calla had been able to tame was now looking out through the cursed lord's eyes. 

Bringing his cape up to cover the lower half of his face, Caspian broke the silence. "My lady," he said in a gruff baritone.

The sound of him speaking caught Rosalind off guard. With a tiny cry, she turned on her heel and came face to face with the beast.

The length separating Rosalind and Caspian in the small room was approximately that of a long dinner table. Though it put a space between them, it was not far enough and the closeness made Rosalind panic.

"I beg your pardon." Caspian bowed to his guest. He did not move past the door when he saw her flinch. "I have been a terrible host."

Rosalind cupped her icy hand and brought it to her chest. She took two steps back. "It is not as though I long for your presence near me," she said irately. Rosalind looked at Caspian. His monstrous face was half-hiding behind the cape but she saw his horns protruded from his head like a crown of thorns. She saw the large black wings that trailed behind him, wings that twitched in the shadows. Though the beast was terrifying, Rosalind thought he was not as terrifying as the villagers made him out to be. He stood before Rosalind horrid and unGodly but at that moment, he stood more like a man and less like some woodland fable.

"Out of the shadows I believe you are still an unwelcome horror, but I did think a lord would do his lady guest a courtesy and at least show his face and grant her his name. You have given me nothing but days and nights of wandering a terrifying place without even the good manners of telling me your name."

Caspian narrowed his eyes at her words. Not because they were blunt but because they were true. "May I come closer? Then I shall grand you my name."

When Rosalind nodded, albeit with hesitation, Caspian stepped into the library and walked half-way in.

This close, Rosalind could see every detail of him. Every wretched, animal-like part. Though frightened, she remained brave and held her head high.

"Your name and your face my lord," Rosalind said gently.

Caspian knelt on one knee before Rosalind. He lifted a hand to her own but did not take it until she extended it and gave it to him herself. Their touch was both cold. Hers from the window, his from death.

"I am Lord Caspian," he said yet remained hidden behind his cloak. "Grace me with your name fair lady."

"Rosalind Hershel," she whispered. Her gaze fell upon his eyes, on the deep blue of glaciers.

"Rosalind. A rose," Caspian said then uttered softly enough for Rosalind not to hear, "the only rose in my eternal winter."

When Caspian removed the cape from his face Rosalind tensed. The lord felt her nervousness and remained on his knee. "I will do you no harm. I swear," he said in a low tone.

"How can I trust you?" she asked.

When Rosalind slipped her hand out of Caspian's he growled under his breath.

When the lord hesitated to reply, Rosalind repeated. "How? I cannot trust you, can I?"

Caspian tilted his head to look at her. He knew that he had lied to both Rosalind's father and to her. There would be harm done, it would be inevitable for the house and old Serabeth's curse damned whoever stepped inside.

"I will not harm you," he repeated.

Rosalind took a step back and shook her head. Her lips were pursed with anger. "I will not and cannot trust a monster."

Caspian rose with a growl. Her words stabbing him like a sword piercing his skin.

"Lord Caspian," he raised his voice.

Rosalind narrowed her eyes and spat back, "Monster."

Without a word, the lord turned and stormed out of the room. The hem of his long cloak fluttering behind like like a shroud of darkness.

Rosalind felt faint. Her heart hammered in her chest. Heavily, she sat on the armchair and clasped her trembling hands over her mouth. He will be the death of me.

Agnes found Rosalind still sitting in the library a few hours later. The young guest was still shaken by her and Caspian's meeting. Agnes saw it in the way Rosalind's fingers trembled when the young woman lifted her hand to push a stray lock of raven hair behind her ear. "I called him a monster. To his face, dear maid. He will cut my throat in my sleep."

Agnes ushered Rosalind to her chamber. Since the maid was unable to sooth the young woman with words, she eventually made her way back to the kitchen to get a cup of warm wine to calm Rosalind down.

"Drink this," Agnes insisted as she handed Rosalind the copper cup.

The young woman's green eyes shifted downwards, her gaze lingered on the delicate steam escaping from the warm carmine liquid.

"He will not kill you in your sleep, nor any other time of day. He swore and a man's promise is his vow. It is the way he sometimes speaks and the way he growls which makes him appear monstrous. I cannot believe he will do you any harm, my lady." When Rosalind told the maid that Lord Caspian swore he would do her no harm, Agnes wondered if it was nothing more than a beautiful lie. Would Caspian be true to his words? But Caspian was a monster. He had torn his family apart by his cruel ways. He killed and had been killing innocent people for decades. Caspian had no faith, he had no fear of God in him. No love for neighbor or beggar alike. Nothing had ever meant anything to that man except his lovely wife. Agnes knew that the only reason Caspian would possibly not harm Rosalind was because of the way she looked and acted, so painfully similar to Calla. But the old maid could not be certain, for beasts tend to always find a way to remain beasts.

"You may think it is true, good maid," Rosalind replied after taking a few sips of warm wine. "But I cannot believe it."

Agnes knew trying to persuade Rosalind would be futile. How does one persuade when one does not believe with all their heart?

The maid stayed by Rosalind's side until the wine was gone and Rosalind snuggled under the warm wolf's fur covers, desperate for sleep.

As she had done one hundred years ago with Troy, Agnes tucked the young woman in and hoped the wine was strong enough to allow her to sleep through Caspian's ugliness. 

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