Beauty's Beast

Chapter 1



         Once there was a handsome prince who lived in a beautiful castle in a bright and friendly wood.  He ruled many lands, stretching so far that there were places in his power that he had never seen.

         His parents, the High King and Queen realized that they were growing old, and that soon their son would take their place.  But how can you be king without a queen?

         So they called their son to them and asked him if there were any beautiful princess he might wish to marry.  But there was none, for it seemed that no girl could ever deserve the handsome prince.

         But the King and Queen could not let their beautiful child go unmarried.  So they planned a great dinner, in which all the princesses of the surrounding countries would come.  There must be one, they thought, that could win their sons affections.

         The dinner was grand, the dining hall decorated with the finest silks, and heaviest chalices, and scattered with the wealthiest princesses.  They flounced their skirts and batted their eyes most becomingly, for the prince was wealthy and handsome, and they wished most sorely to be his chosen bride.

         The most glamorous princess was rewarded immediately for her beauty efforts, for the prince most certainly noticed her.  Her black hair and blue eyes were in vogue, and the dark purple gown dripping with pearls and diamonds accented her pale skin.  Not long after their acquaintance, the prince and his princess were eating next to each other, talking to each other, and beginning to like one another.  The discarded princesses efforts to turn his attentions on themselves were futile.  At the end of the meal, the prince announced his engagements.

         “Oddonna and I will be married tomorrow.”  He pronounced, looking out proudly upon his subjects.

         The King and Queen were very happy, along with every other nobleman, servant, and subject of the court.  The wedding arrangements were made immediately, and the other princesses were sent home.

         But the prince himself was a selfish man, and he failed to notice the rage and pain of a lowly kitchen maid.  So conceited was he that he could not love anyone but himself.  He did not love his wife to be, he only recognized that she was attractive, and would be well liked among the people that gave him money.  She would be a fine queen, and would birth handsome children that would one day take the throne.  He was a prince.  His loyalties were to no one, and his love was meant for no one other than himself.  But little did he know that his blindness towards a kitchen maid would be his everlasting doom.



         At 11:30 the King and Queen retired for bed, and requested the servants show the princess to a guest room when she was ready.  Not long after, she was, and a butler took her up a grand staircase to the East Wing, where she was led down a long corridor to a large room with a big window and a comfortable bed.

         The prince was also led away to his chambers where another butler helped him into his nightclothes and a maid hurried in with a small glass of wine.

         That night, however, the prince did not sleep well.  He had eerie nightmares of a hideous beast hiding in his tangled mane, but peering out from behind it with milky eyes.

         When he woke, his hair was tangled and fresh sweat cooled his face.  A butler rushed in to help him into a handsome suit, one the prince had ordered just yesterday.  A maid bustled in with a breakfast platter and a bowl of cold water for his face.

         “Beggin’ forgiveness, Yur Majest’, but His High Majest’ wishes you join him fur breakfast.”  The maid said in a hurry.  “But, uh, we come brought ya’ll up a snack.”

         “Very well.”  The prince said coldly.  “You may go.”

         The maid gave a final curtsy and rushed away.

         While he ate and drank, the butler combed his hair and smoothed it with gel.  He then helped the prince wash his sticky face with a fluffy cloth, and the cold water from the silver bowl.  Soon the prince looked good as new, and was ready to meet his father for breakfast.  He strolled down the stairs, the butler following behind.

         But before the prince reached the dining hall, a loud scream pierced the still air.  A maid came rushing down the stairs that led to the East Wing.

         “Oh, your Majesty!”  She cried.  “Please forgive me, highness, but…oooh, but you’re fiancé--has been murdered!”

         As soon as she spoke these horrible words, the prince rushed towards the East Wing, where he found a crowd of servants gathered about his wife’s room.  And there she was lying on her bed, blood dripping from her chest, her face as peaceful as it had been when she was sleeping.  A jeweled knife lay on the bedside table, coated in blood.

         The prince turned, pale faced and sick, away from the scene.  He then rushed down stairs to tell his father everything.  He stumbled down the hallway like a drunk, then tripped down the staircase like a rabid creature.  But moments before he reached the dining hall, a rapid pain began to burn in his chest and hands.  He looked down, and saw his fingers begin to transform, turning into ugly claws with long yellow nails.  They curled nastily, as if victims of arthritis.  The skin became brown and crusty, and dark hair began to grow thick upon the backs of his hands.  The pain spread through his entire body, turning him into the hideous monster he had encountered in his dreams.  Servants began to vanish before him, and only their distant voices remained.  The items they carried seemed to float in midair, but they were really carried by the servants’ invisible hands.

         Suddenly, a beautiful voice began to echo throughout the palace.

         “A terrible curse I’ve set upon you, prince.  For all your beauty, you are selfish and ugly.  I have turned your handsome face into a mask of the beast that lives inside you.  You will have until your 25th birthday to learn to love someone, and for them to learn to love you.  Or you shall live the life of a monster until the day you die.”



Chapter 2

1726

         “Rosalia, which dress should I wear?”  Asked Vanessa in a sweet voice that had evolved quickly into a whine.  She held up two choices for her younger sister to examine.  One dress was a dark wine color, the other a peach satin.

         Rosalia looked up from her French literature book, thankful for a break.  She looked closely at the two dresses, noticing the frills on the red one, and the bows on the peach one.

         “The pink one.”  She responded decidedly.  “It goes with your hair.”

         Vanessa’s hair was an unattractive thin curtain of mousy brown hair that she adorned with pearls and tiaras that made it seem unusually shiny for its color.

         “Very well.”  She agreed.  “I shall go pink tonight.  Now!  Where are my hats…”?

         Rosalia smiled to herself as her sister went off in search of a hat.  It wasn’t long before she was sure to find one.  Vanessa adored hats and other accessories, and she filled her room with them.  Hats with veils, hat with trails, hats with brims, hats with plumes, hats with flowers, and even hats so small they had to be jauntily pinned to the side of your head.

         But, tonight was a very important night, at least to Rosalia’s father.  Her father was a rich merchant who traveled the world for beautiful trinkets that would make his fortune.  Their house was a museum of foreign relics that decorated every mantelpiece, hallway, and public room besides the kitchen.  Bronze statues of stately creatures such as lions and dragons kept a silent watch over marble bowls and ceramic pots, while delicate gray tresses glittered enticingly upon a sterling silver woman.  Many of the merchants friends were impressed by the array of lovely artifacts, and constantly questioned the merchant on where and how he came to possess them.