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'It never dies,' He said one day talking about the rose bush.
'The other flowers wither and fade but it remains forever vibrant.'
His tone changed from wistful wonder as bitterness crept in.
'It is cursed like me, like the servants, like this place.'
He gestured around taking in the castle and surrounds.
'She died long ago,' He said, his mind wandering the years. 'Rose. They are all dead but her I miss the least'.
I held my breath and waited for him to continue. He had told me little of his life or how he came to be imprisoned in this castle. In my early days I was too frightened and angry to care but as I got to know him better and glimpsed some of the despair within the Beast, I was reluctant to hurt him further.
'It was long ago.' His eyes were unfocussed as he shuffled through his memories. 'I have lived a very long life.'
He looked at me then. I smiled my encouragement. Darkness had descended and the invisible servants were busily lighting the lamps. He watched their progress around the room, distracted, moody, unsure.
'There was once a young man, a lordling, handsome, brave and haughty. He had the world at his feet and a fortune in his hands.' He paused and took a sip from the goblet that had appeared on the table in front of him.
‘He had recently come into some of his inheritance, a castle with servants and enough gold and jewels to support the lifestyle he expected for a good many years. He was delirious with the sudden power and riches, and best of all, freedom from his father's rules.
'
The lordling was riding one day and he became separated from his companions. It bothered him not. He loved the freedom of the open countryside away from the castle and the demands on his time. He cared little where he rode. His mount was a fine and sturdy animal and happy for the exercise.
'
Eventually, darkness fell and the horse was tiring. The young man spied a lighted cottage so dismounted and knocked at the door.
'That was how he met Rose. She was beautiful and the lordling was smitten. He fell in love easily in those days.'
'Ah love.' He mused, 'Or lust. He tarried with her for many days lost in her charms until eventually his worried servants found him and he was obliged to return to his castle.'
'Pray, do not purse your lips so. He was young and carefree and the blood coursed hotly in his veins.'
'I am not shocked,' I sniffed. 'I understand about love. Did he marry her?'
'Marry?' he looked surprised. 'No, he could not marry her. One day he would inherit his father’s title and he would need a wife worthy to take his side. Rose could not be that person.'
'But if he loved her enough...’ I trailed off weakly. I sounded just like my sister, Blanche. That was the sort of hopeless romantic notion that would come from her.
‘So, he just went back to his fine castle?' I was sad on behalf of the long ago Rose, 'And forgot all about her?'
The Beast frowned. 'No, he didn't forget her. He couldn't. He would ride out to see her whenever he got the chance.'
“She was his favourite. For a while.'
'A while?' I prompted.
'Young men, spoilt by wealth and indolence can be thoughtless and unkind.' He sighed. 'She started to bore him. There were other pleasures - hunting with his friends, dances, balls - and other women. He had the world at his feet and she was just a very small part. A pretty trinket to be discarded when it no longer shone so brightly.'
‘And then there was the business with the child.’
‘A child? Was it his child?'
He sat staring moodily into the fire. He was silent so long that I thought he would not answer but finally he stirred.
‘No, it was not his. She claimed it was so and he believed at first but I will not speak of it now. The memories make me weary.‘
He sighed and indeed it seemed a great weight had settled on his shoulders and he hunched over the wine glass cradled in his hands.
‘You should sleep now for it is late. I will tell you more of this tale another time.’
