Beast and the Beauty

“You may use these chambers to prepare yourself for dinner,” offered the same man that night, controlling his tone very deliberately.

“Thank you,” said Roselynn in a tone less conformed. She entered one of the bedchambers of the castle, closed the door behind as the other man still stood, and lay wildly on the soft bed. She began to close her eyes, finally warm and comfortable.

“Miss? You are planning to attend dinner, are you not?” came a kind woman’s voice.

“Hmm? Oh,” said Roselynn, half-awoken from her dozing but rolling over again, “perhaps not.”

“But you will be sent back to the tower! Really, you must go,” the voice came again.

“Who are you?” Roselynn asked and an armoire stepped forward,

“I am the chambermaid. Well, rather, I’m a wardrobe, but I am also your chambermaid. My name is Isolde, may I ask yours?” the large wooden cabinet told her in a very friendly voice, smiling with a mouth that stretched her two doors.

“Roselynn,” the girl answered quietly, now sitting upon the bed. She sighed and said truthfully, “I do not wish to go to dinner with him. I never want to look at him again, in fact I want to sleep and cry and starve alone. I miss my father and my sisters, and I want so much to go home,” her eyes flitted downward and she held back her tears now. She had been very glad of Chip’s company, but he had been too young to understand.

“I see, dear. But you won’t ever be able to go anywhere if you don’t obey the Master,” the closet told her kindly, “So what will you wear to dinner then? Perhaps you might have a warm bath and I will find you a dress?”

So Roselynn sadly left the warm bed and found the bath and washroom adjoined to the room. The bath was more refreshing than she had imagined and she spent a long hour in it before she re-entered the bedroom and took the dress from Isolde. It was beautiful, pale green silk and fell just to her ankles. She resolved that the castle wasn’t so very bad and concluded that, should she be freed, she would enjoy exploring it before she left.

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Dinner went somewhat better than Roselynn had expected. That is to say, it went without argument and, therefore, almost silently. She sat quietly at the far end of a long table, eating the first warm meal she had seen in so many days. The man sat far, at the head of the table, facing her and eating soberly. He tried to make conversation, such as, “How do you find the peacock?” but his ire and the distance made for a very unwelcoming tone and Roselynn either dismissed his attempts or answered shortly.

What she did not know was that the man’s fork and spoon, as well as the candle placed at his end of the table, were painfully instructing him in etiquette and chatter. He would have been better off, perhaps, to simply allow the girl some silence, but his coaches urged him to pursue a discussion. The meal lasted very long, and after three hours together the two were each surprised that no uproars had taken place.

“You will sleep in a bedchamber tonight, and you must go quickly, because it is nearly ten o’clock,” he told her at the end of the meal. She had eaten enough to sate her three times over, for fear of not receiving another meal in a long while.

“You are freeing me?” she asked him, taken aback again and filled with more hope than food.

“No! You will remain my prisoner, but the castle gates will be your bars now,” he replied, cutting Roselynn’s hopes back, “But, first, you must give me your word that you will not leave my land.”

She hardly thought at all, wanting so much to be free but wanting so little to return to the cold, dark tower,

“You have my word,” she said firmly. Her eyes began to swim in tears, though they never fell. The man stood and led her back to her room, relaying a list of castle rules to her as they went,

“You will never leave the gate or pass the wall surrounding my home. If anyone can be seen near the castle, you will return inside and put out any candles. All meals are mandatory and you are expected to be on time; breakfast is at 6:00, lunch at noon, tea at 3:00, and dinner at 7:00. You must be in your bedchamber, sleeping, by 10:00. Under no circumstances will you be found in the hallways, outside, or otherwise in the castle during the night. You may not send letters or communicate with your family and friends outside. You may go any place in the castle except for the rooms of the West Wing and my chambers, which are located in the West Wing anyhow. By breaking any of said rules, you will be placed again in the tower and never be granted any freedom whatsoever again. Is this clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Roselynn stammered awkwardly. She hadn’t fully caught every rule, but she believed she understood. She paused, “When did you say dinner started, sir?”

“7:00. And you will not be calling me ‘sir’ either. You will call me ‘Master,’ ” he answered shortly. They had arrived at her door.

“Goodnight,” he told her, his manner not offering care or sincerity, and he left her.

Roselynn opened the tall, heavy door again and crept into the room. Although she ached for sleep and rest, she sat on the bed and gazed out the tall window in the northern-facing wall. The starts were bright and twinkled with innocent peace, seemingly in an attempt to convince Roselynn that they were watching for her. It had been less than ten minutes before she heard a deep, resonating clock strike the tenth hour.

“You must sleep now, dear,” came the voice of the wardrobe, startling Roselynn who had forgotten she was not alone.

“But it has been a very exciting day,” she said almost dreamily, but with slight regret, “I mean that this castle is quite nice and I am so interested to meet more enchanted people. Don’t you think I could investigate a bit before going to sleep?”

“No, dear. You must go to sleep now. Did the Master not tell you that you must be in your room, asleep, by 10:00?”

“Yes, he did mention that. Is it a very strict rule?” she inquired.

“Very strict. Perhaps the strictest rule we have,” the woman said kindly but firmly.

“I wonder why. It didn’t seem like so much of a problem.”

“Perhaps it is only superstition. You call our castle enchanted, but it has long been called haunted in place. It is said that there is a vicious beast who sleeps the day in the West Wing and stalks the halls at night,” the kind lady paused, her voice not seeming to believe the legends fully, “I don’t wish to frighten you, but the Master says he awakens at ten o’clock each night and returns to sleep at five each morning. I haven’t seen him, but Cogsworth has. And the Master, of course. That is why we aren’t allowed in the West Wing during the day or around the castle at night.”

“Oh, hogwash!” Roselynn said, though she had gotten a faint chill in her spine, “He is probably hiding something in his West Wing and only doesn’t want us to find it.” But despite Roselynn’s disbelief, she did go to sleep straight away.