Rosalind - Beauty and the Beast meets Dracula retelling

32- Blood and Wine

Rosalind ran her hands over the blue gown, smoothing it down. Yet as anticipation mounted her, what she really wanted to do was wring it until it was crinkled.

The golden glow of the red candles gave off enough light for her to see the empty chair on the opposite end of the table. The high-back seat was identical to hers. A crushed velvet cushion gave the occupant a comfortable rest on both seat and back. Rosalind moved her hands from her dress and placed them upon the armrest. Her fingers rubbed at the polished wood nervously. Spread before her was a meal worthy of more than two. The stag had been butchered, sliced, and cooked. A part of the animal's leg and torso rested on large silver platters. The skin was crispy and brown. The scent of rosemary and thyme wafted to Rosalind making her long for a piece of the deer. Steam plumed from small, round potatoes in a shallow bowl. A deep bowl with a porcelain ladle gave off the familiar scent of pumpkin soup.

Two decanters sat on either end of the long table, one to Rosalind's right and a matching one to the lord's right. Crystal goblets awaited their fill.

Silence lingered alongside Rosalind keeping her company. Her gaze darted from the table over to the entrance then back over to the spread. Until the moment she returned her attention to the table, she had not noticed the familiar black candies. The sweets rested away from the gentle glow of light. Under a shadow, they reminded her of bits of coal, rather unappealing. Reaching over, she pulled the candy bowl towards a section of candle-light shining on the tablecloth. The inky hue turned into a familiar greenish-black, slightly oily looking, and shimmery like a beetle. Rosalind picked one piece up and inspected it, half expecting the sweet to grow legs and scurry away.

"Lady Rosalind. I hope you are well tonight." When Caspian entered the room and bid her good evening, Rosalind accidentally dropped the sweet, it rolled off the table and fell onto her lap. The lord stood at the head of the table with his hand on the back of the chair. His long fingers curled around the wood possessively. The black trousers he wore looked painted on for they accentuated every curve of his slender frame. His black shirt bore ruffles on the high neckline and the ruffled cuffs darted forth from the wrist band of a long blue velvet coat. Caspian's wings rested low, nearly hidden behind his back. When he moved to sit, the shadow of the wings swayed hypnotically behind him.

Rosalind looked to the lord and his choice of attire and wavered. She had seen him in nothing but a cape, skulking around as a vampire, but tonight he greeted her and dressed like a true lord should. "I am well enough..." She could not stop herself from drinking in the sight of his body and it filled her with shame. He is the devil! Her mind warned. Rosalind cleared her throat and dropped her eyes to the table, momentarily torn between wanting to address him as Beast and as his proper title. When she lifted her eyes, she knew what to say, "I am well enough, my lord."

Caspian pulled his chair out to take his seat. A smile ghosting his lips. From the corner of the dining area, Agnes appeared and ever so silently set a plate in front of her master. From over the plates of food and candles, Rosalind struggled to make out what lay high on the lord's dish. As the maid went about silently filling the lord's goblet then Rosalind's from their respective decanters, the young woman inched up to see what sat on Caspian's plate.

"Do not be alarmed," Agnes whispered as she took a slice of deer and placed it on Rosalind's plate. Then, with no other word, the maid hurried away.

The scent of her meal drifted around Rosalind pleasantly. It was when she noticed two stubs of antler poking through her line of vision that she gasped.

The stag's raw, fur-less head sat on Caspian's dish facing the lord with glassy eyes. Its horns had been cut to a few inches in height giving the animal a grotesque appearance.

"How can you eat that?" Rosalind blurted before she had a moment to think. Her hands flew to her mouth. She tried not to retch.

Lord Caspian chuckled dryly. "What is on my plate and what is on yours came from the same deer."

Rosalind drew her eyes away. She looked over her shoulder and away from the disgusting spectacle. "It is not the same."

"Why? Because yours had been seasoned and cooked?" Caspian's deep voice held an air of amusement. "Sunlight and shadow my lady," he reminded her, "are the same. You will soon see."

Caspian reached for his glass goblet and asked for Rosalind to turn his way. "Look at me, my lady."

Hesitantly, she turned towards him. The night lay eerily silent. No wind blew outside, no nocturnal creature fluttered or called. Every stone held its breath. Even the sounds of whatever Agnes had been doing in the kitchen stopped.

Rosalind's gaze moved onto the lord's goblet. The liquid inside was red, the same shade as her wine.

"Will it please you if I have the maid take my meal away?" Caspian asked. He moved his fingers between the stem of his goblet and swirled it lazily around.

Rosalind uneasily watched the liquid move around the glass, staining the edged thick and gelatinous.

"Is this what you eat, my lord, raw meat?"

Caspian nodded. "It is all I can eat."

Raising her gaze to Caspian's glass, she indicated, "We drink from separate decanters."

"Do you want to know what this is?" He lifted his goblet to eye level.

For a moment, Rosalind thought about telling him no for part of her already knew. "It is not like the wine offered to me, is it?"

Caspian rose and asked permission to come to her side of the table.

When Rosalind nervously agreed, he walked over. Caspian knelt by Rosalind's seat. The crystal goblet was set next to hers.

The light of the candle shone into the glass, turning the dark red liquid ruby. "Sunlight," he uttered, "and shadow."

Rosalind's hands knitted together as she tried to keep them from shaking. The nearness had her heart thundering. Her whole body tensed but she would not tell him to return to his seat.

"Yours is the shadow, my lord," she said under her breath. "I am the sunlight."

Caspian reached to her glass, he took his and Rosalind's and swirled them around until she did not know which was which. When he offered her one, she took it reluctantly. "I do not want to drink the wrong one."

"I swear to you, my lady," Caspian said, "you will not." Taking the other goblet, Caspian raised it in an unspoken toast. "Drink."

The scent of sweetness rolled around the rim. Bringing it to her lips, Rosalind took a small sip. The wine was the same as it had been the night before, pleasing and calming.

Caspian drank from his own glass. It trickled richly down his throat.

The coppery scent lingered on Caspian's lips. When he rose, a gentle breeze danced around Rosalind. And when he returned to take his seat, she found herself longing to know what his own wine tasted like.