The Beast of Rose Castle

-= 2 =-

"I'm getting quite concerned mother. He isn't usually this late," a girl, on the verge of being old enough to marry whispered. Her hair was of the lightest of blonde and laid in waves down to her mid-back. Her eyes were as green as a field of flowing grass and were usually sparkling with happiness or humor. In that moment, her brows were furrowed, all happiness lost within worry. 

Her teeth bit her bottom lip as she moved back and forth, back and forth. The wooden floorboards, cold from the draft coming from under the door, creaked under her feet. Despite the numbing sensation, she couldn't very well leave the door. 

She had awoken from a terrible dream of death and horror to find her father had yet to make his way home. Her mother sat, her own cool greenish-brown eyes focused on the quilt she was making. It laid limply on her lap, a form of pieces sewn together. The needle was uselessly held in her hand, as if at any moment she was going to resume her work. 

Though neither were superstitious women, it was hard not to think of all the things that could have gone wrong. Had he fallen? Was he stuck somewhere, unable to move in the freezing temperatures and snow? "Where is he?" she exclaimed, her voice picking up its volume the longer she had to pace. 

Her mother, with graying brown hair, rose from her seat. The quilt and needle fell to the ground in a piled mess. She found herself wrapping her arms around her daughter, wishing she could quell both their depressing thoughts. 

When it felt like all hope was lost, the door opened with a gust of icy wind. "Brr!" Merrick exclaimed. His cheeks were reddened and his fingers were practically useless in their black leather gloves. He closed the door after himself, far too entranced by seeing the Beast stare at him again. He was far too lost in thought to notice the way his wife and daughter seemed to relax as soon as he appeared. 

Merrick walked into the kitchen, tossing his coat and gloves aside onto a chair before pausing in his step. "What are the two of you doing up at such an hour?" he questioned. As though snapped out of whatever state his mind had been in, he turned to look at them. 

"Just... waiting up for you, sweetheart," his wife replied, her eyes soft and warm. Merrick blinked before nodding his head. Already, his mind was whirling with thoughts once more. 

He disappeared into the kitchen, getting the dough and such ready for the coming morning. Meanwhile, his wife turned to their daughter. "Annelie, darling, I'm sure you will be able to get to sleep now," she murmured softly. 

A soft sound escaped the growing girl's mouth, and she nodded her head. "Yes, I do believe I will," she replied. With a nod of her head, she moved further into the one story, pale, wooden house. It was slowly getting worse in condition, yet there was nothing she could do about it, any of them could do about it. 

There was hardly enough money to make sure they were cared for. The money from the bakery wasn't enough, that she knew for such a long time. Yet, they had to make it, they had to. They had nowhere else to go, no relatives to stay with. 

Annelie shook her head, not wanting to think about what the future could bring. Instead, she focused on her books, which she had been given over the years. Her collection was beautiful and kept her at peace. Other worlds awaited her with a flick of a finger. Slowly, her pink lips curled upward. Yes, they are wonderful, she thought. 

Once in her room, she sat down on the edge of her bed, eyes moving to the closed and locked window. Snow stuck to the bottom where the sill on the outside was. The window itself was frozen, small shapes, like snowflakes, were stretched across the surface. She blew out a breath, ignoring the fact that she could see her own breath. 

It was cold, and dark. With only a single candle to light the room, the one on her bedside table. Annelie took the flaming tip of the candle and pinched it between her fingers. The flame quickly disappeared, leaving the room in darkness.