Epilogue
Rose let herself into their suite just as the sun began to sink behind the distant mountains, and she grinned when she saw her husband’s boots and cloak discarded on the chair at the entrance of the room.
“I brought you something to eat,” she called, walking from the parlor into the bedroom. She was met there by Jonathan, who was buttoning the last button on what appeared to be a clean shirt.
“Oh, good. I’m famished. Master Vernon worked me nearly senseless today.” He took the little plate of cake from her and immediately stuffed the first bite into his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning as he chewed.
“Are you regretting hiring a new combat instructor?” Rose asked.
“Very much so.” He collapsed onto the bed and took another bite of cake. “But I needed something to keep me busy, or you’re going to fatten me up with all these sweets.”
Rose laughed. That was hardly possible. They had been married three months now, and she only baked sweets once a week.
And these were always shared with the servants and the kitchen staff, as well as her sister and Frederick.
But her husband, as she had known he would be, was rarely still, and even if it was only in little ways, she did what she could to help him rest.
How else was she supposed to express how much she delighted in him?
A few of the old crones of the court had warned her that marriage was far from the happy ending young, starry-eyed girls dreamed it would be. But Rose was rather sure that was their jealousy speaking.
Had marriage to the the crown prince been difficult?
Most certainly, she thought to herself wryly as she watched him eat, his eyes still closed.
They’d already had their share of spats, and the queen had continued to act as a thorn in Rose’s side whenever she got the chance.
But returning every day to await the man she respected and adored was more than worth the cost.
“How did things go today with Snow?” he asked without opening his eyes.
“Oh, about how they’ve been for the last few weeks.
” Rose settled in beside him, leaning back against a pillow and stretching her sore muscles.
“Snow is keeping a little more food down now, but not much.” She let out a snort.
“I finally kicked Frederick out, though. He is officially banned from her room and will be sleeping in her old suite until she’s much improved. ”
At this, Jonathan’s eyes opened wide. “Exiling a prince before you’re even a queen. I’m impressed.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “He’s so worried that he’s worrying Snow.
And the nurse says that will make her condition even worse.
” Then she paused. “Although I will say that caring for Snow has seemed to revive my mother like nothing else has since we moved here. She even dared to correct a servant today for being rough when helping to change Snow’s bedclothes. ”
Rose didn’t add it aloud, but the fire in her mother’s eyes that morning–the mother’s protective wrath that Rose had known as a child–had made Rose hope once more that her mother might become herself again while living within the palace walls.
Jonathan made a face. “So how long will this… condition last?”
Rose laughed. “About seven more months. But hopefully, the sickness will have abated long before then.”
Jonathan studied her thoughtfully for a moment before putting the plate down.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Is this what you consider a good recipe?” he asked.
She stared at him. “For the cake? It’s the same one I used for the wedding.”
But he just shook his head. “For this.” He gestured to the room around them before pulling her toward him for a kiss. She accepted the kiss greedily and was disappointed when he pulled back again.
“Let’s be honest, Rose.” He tapped her nose. “You barely knew me when we were wed. Has it been all you hoped it would be?”
Rose tapped his nose back. “Remember, I’m not the hopeless romantic that my sister is. She was looking for a love that made her swoon. I was looking for a man I could lean on.”
“Did you find him?” Jonathan’s words were teasing, but there was a hint of fear in his eyes.
Rose leaned forward and kissed him again, but this time, their kiss was long and slow, and she let her lips linger against his.
“Not only did I find him,” she whispered. “But I’ve fallen head over heels for him, and I’m rather sure I’m even more besotted than my sister could ever be.”
“But you’re sure,” he said with a slight frown, “that you didn’t need more time to get to know me first?”
Rose grinned. “There’s no better way to get to know someone than to face life alongside them. To travel the hills and valleys together. To taste the bitter herbs and the sparkling sugar as one.”
After another long look of consideration, Jonathan finally broke into a grin. “In that case,” he said slyly, “is there anything I can do to make it sweeter?”
Rose thought for a moment. “I might,” she said, suddenly feeling somewhat shy, “like a plump little cherry to top it all off. Or even three or four.”
He froze for the briefest of seconds before cupping her cheek in his hand and drawing her in for another kiss.
“It won’t be easy,” she told him seriously, pulling back to meet his eyes. “My parents were deeply in love. But they faced hardships they never dreamed of.”
“No one ever said it would be easy,” he argued.
“True. But you’re going to be king. And I have so much more to learn about being queen.”
“Maybe,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers. “But making this life with you will be ever so sweet.”
Before Beauty: A Retelling of Beauty & the Beast
An Excerpt
As the prince opened the door, however, Isa gasped. Inside was the most luxurious room she had ever seen. It far outweighed any daydream Isa had ever conjured up, and most likely even that of her more well-to-do childhood friends in Soudain.
Lavender silk was draped and hung from every surface and window, and the furniture was gilded in gold and silver.
A bed nearly the size of Isa’s old attic room stood in the corner, surrounded by little tables, chairs, dressers, and vanities, each of which was decked with little boxes— some the size of her thumb and others larger than her face.
The boxes were made of all colors and grains of wood, hewn stone, thin, shiny metals, and some even of shells.
In a daze, Isa wandered over to the nearest vanity and touched it to make sure she wasn’t dreaming again.
“It was more lavish before the curse was cast,” Prince Everard said from behind her, sounding quite bored. “The gold and silver have tarnished some, but I supposed you could find a few baubles to please you.”
Understanding hit Isa. He was trying to buy her loyalty. After abducting her and making her privy to the hate within his soul, he was now attempting to purchase her affections. Well, Isa wasn’t that cheap. It took every bit of self-control for her not to turn around and slam the door in his face.
Still, as angry as she was, she might as well use the chance to learn more about her captor, if nothing else.
“It is lovely.” She tried to make her voice cool and reserved, pausing to open one of the boxes atop the vanity.
The jewel encrusted silver bracelet inside of it nearly took her breath away, and she had to focus to keep her expression unaffected. “Whose room was this?”
“My mother’s.”
This time, Isa was unable to keep the surprise from her face, and a sudden sense of pity warred with her disdain. “I am sorry.”
“There is no need for that.” The prince walked over to a large vanity, and carelessly flipped open more of the boxes. “She was ill. Death comes for all of us.” He held out a thin golden necklace with a jewel nearly the size of Isa’s thumb. “Would you like this?”
“Surely you cannot mean for me to take any of the queen’s belongings!” Isa stuttered, taking a step back. “I am only a commoner!”
“I assure you, nothing in this room will affect me, whether it leaves or remains.”
Isa watched him for another moment before her conscience got the better of her. She should at least choose one item. Even if he was trying to purchase her good will, it would be rude to ignore such an offering. And though Isa’s parents were commoners, they had taught Isa well. She was never rude.
Well, she tried not to be, anyway.
Isa resumed perusing the little items, but their sheer number was overwhelming. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, opals, coral, and amethysts made the room sparkle even in the dim light that the dusty windows let through. Such jewels were breathtaking, but far too expensive for Isa’s taste.
Just when she was about to give up and take something simply to say she had done it, Isa spotted a little round stone in the corner of one of the dustier boxes.
When she lifted it, she was delighted to find that the rock looked like a rose.
Its edges were rough and looked as though someone had pressed red sand together until it stuck.
Little lips of pink jutted out, layered in a circular pattern so that they looked like petals.
“What is this?” she asked.
“It’s called a desert rose stone.”
Isa jumped a little at the sudden nearness of his voice. The prince had silently come to stand behind her as she gazed at the stone. He was frowning.
“You like that?”
“It’s simple,” she said, turning it over in her hands. “But beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. Did a wizard make it?”
“We wouldn’t keep a wizard’s work here.” He looked slightly disgusted. “It came into being by natural means in the desert. Something having to do with the wind, I think.”
She looked back at him and smiled politely. “Your mother must have treasured this.”
“Hardly.” The prince snorted. “It was too common for her taste.”
“How do you know?” As the words left her lips, Isa wondered at her sudden audacity to speak to the prince as though she were his equal. But he didn’t seem to mind.
“She told me as much when I gave it to her.”
For a long moment, Isa was trapped in his fiery gaze as she felt her mouth open a bit in horror.
“I was eight,” he said more softly as he held a grizzled hand out. She gave him the stone, and he studied it as he spoke. “I was out with my father on a diplomatic journey in a neighboring country. We were passing through a desert, and I found it along the path.”
“And she didn’t like it?” Isa was still at a loss as to how a mother could reject a gift from her son.
“If I recall correctly, her words were, ‘Everard, the sentiment was kind, but such gifts are below my station, and below yours. Next time, ask your father to help you find something.’” He handed the stone back to Isa.
“I cannot see why you should want this over the gems, but if you wish for it, it’s yours. ”
“I do wish it.” Isa curled her fingers around the stone defiantly. “I shall keep it beside my bed. It will be nice to look at if I have another bad dream.”
The prince’s fiery eyes softened slightly before they snapped wide open. “Wait. You had a bad dream? Here?”
Isa nodded. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. But he was glaring at her again with that frightening intensity. “What was your dream about?” He grabbed her shoulders with his gloved hands and squeezed. “Tell me everything!”
Fear suddenly made Isa nauseous as his eyes burned into hers. “It was only a dream…” she stammered. Seeing, however, that he wasn’t convinced, she managed to tell him all she could of the dream, though her face grew hot as she revealed the visions that had so played on her insecurities.
Then he was gone, faster than she would have imagined him capable in his weakened state. Suddenly all alone again, Isa looked down at the little stone carving in her hand. She was somehow even more confused than she had been that morning.