Winter's Rose ~A Beauty and the Beast Retelling~

The Truth

Rosalind smelled a wonderful aroma. Cassandra had not been wrong; Selene had worked very hard. Rosalind was enchanted by the smells of citrus and cinnamon. Cassandra sat her in a plush chair at the end of the table. Rosalind traced the width of the table with her fingers, she could not reach the end of the table; even with both arms stretched out. She had never sat at a table that was so big.

She played with her fingers in her lap. Selene set a plate of fruit jam and toast in front of her; Rosalind mumbled her thanks. It smelled amazing, her stomach growled in hunger. Her father had taught her to wait to eat until everyone was served. Rosalind sighed. She was nervous. She did not know why.

She heard the door open and slam behind her. She stood quickly sensing the powerful presence in the room. She could hear harsh footsteps pounding the floor as they crossed to the other side of the room. The chair at the other end of the table screeched as it was jerked from its place. Rosalind hadn't realized it, but she had stopped breathing.

"Well? Why are you still standing?" William's voice was coarse. She took a sharp intake of breath before sitting back down. She did not know what to do with herself. She was hungry, yes, but she was so put off with William's finicky behavior that she could not see to reach for her toast.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" William asked crudely between bites. She was at a loss of words. Here she was sitting across from a man whom was so different from the man she met the night before. He was back to being the knave that harassed her in the kitchen. What sparked the change, she had no idea. "Eat!"

She reached for her toast carefully. It was cold now, considering how long it had been on her plate. She ate it still, the sweet taste of jam exploding in her mouth.

"Was it all that hard?" He grumbled.

"It will be hard to stomach if you continue to behave this way," she told him coldly. She heard Selene gasp from the corner of the room. She heard a clank of a fork hitting against a plate. Rosalind did not know what sparked the sort of courage it took to talk to William that way, but she was thankful for it.

"What?" William asked, his voice seethed through his teeth.

"You march in here like a wild animal, you never thanked Selene for cooking a marvelous breakfast, and you never even asked me how I was this morning! Honestly, were you ever taught manners?" Rosalind took another bite of her toast once she had finished her laundry list of things that was off putting about William.

He remained quiet a long time. "How did you fare last night?" His question was meek and lacking any sincere emotions.

"Fine," she told him solemnly. He grumbled something that was inaudible. "Pardon?"

"I said," he began. "Thank you Miss. Warren, for this delightful breakfast."

Rosalind could not help smile softly. She finished her toast in silence before standing abruptly. She held the wool cloak tightly in her left hand following the table's edge with her right. She walked as firmly as she could to the end of the table; her fingertips treaded on the edge of the corner. A hand shot out and grabbed onto her wrist. She froze in her place feeling the warmth of his hand. Rosalind tossed the cloak at him. He released her and she took a step back.

"Enjoy your breakfast," she said before taking her leave. Rosalind had no idea where she was going, but she kept moving through the halls with confidence.

Rosalind wandered aimlessly through the halls and corridors. She felt the walls learning their placement. This house was enormous or she just kept walking in circles. She had been walking for hours. Her fingers suddenly felt a latch; she pulled on the door. It opened and she could hear laughter echoing from the inside. She felt like an intruder as she entered the room.