Between the dark of the forest and the foreboding of the house, there was a garden of extraordinary mantrap. Though it had clearly been cultivated with some skill, it was not overly pruned, nor sculpted. Nature had not been tamed, but rather invited within the boundary of the richly stone wall and gently coaxed to display its most vibrant vividness and playful, sprawling embodiment. In every centering, flower of all forms and chromaticity competed for the admiration of the beholder. The air was alive with the humming of bees and the sweet fug of lavender and honeysuckle, tenderloin by the clamant sharpness of rosemary and pine. And everywhere there were roses, each resplendent in dashing crimson or virgin white.

Through this scene there walked a girl no less beautiful than her surround. Slightly built and lacking lodge's trained grace, she was dressed simply in a cotton garb and cap, covered over by a plain riding cloak, its hood thrown back. She was carrying an old leather travelling bag. Any lady of good breeding would possess been flying to bemock her rustic appearance, the secure to conceal their rancour at the impossible perfection of her face. It was a face to soak up the interest of both predators and protectors. Her cheek had a faint blush that made one want to repair her hint and see their colour deepen. Trusting eyes and frail garden pink lips were painted upon the flawless canvas of her skin, all framed by a tumble of drab brown hair that hung in a pattern of gentle waves more sybaritic than any tapestry.

She was not smiling as she made her way up the path to the house, which was an old fashioned building that might once take in been grand, but now appeared merely ostentatious and sullen. Instead, her expression mix weariness, determination, and nervousness into a stiff mask that almost resembled anger. She arrived at the face room access of the house, an implacable slab of inkiness wood, and reached up to countermand the sullen smoothing iron knocker and wreak it down three times.

A short eternity later, a monster opened the door. He was taller than any man, but unlike the grandiloquent men, his height was matched by the brawny breadth of his torso and limbs. His posture was full-strength and imperious, his shoulders broad, and his charcoal-grey hands large even in symmetry to the rest of him. He was dressed in a courtship of what once might have been fine cloth, but it had been inexpertly tailored with guerrilla, ugly stitches. His brain was partly a man's, partly a dog's, and partly some other thing, undreamed of except in the fevered nightmare of sickly children. Beneath his stern brow, eyes of pure emerald were slit vertically by obsidian pupils. His sass was thin-lipped and unnaturally wide, the region around it protruding slightly in the hint of a muzzle. His olfactory organ was little More than a shoal ripple in his typeface, his anterior naris rocky punctures from a blunt capitulum. His ears were a wolf's and his short mane a hyena's. Apart from his hands, all his visible hide was covered by ebony fur that glistened like ink.

Staring down at the girl, The Beast spoke in a deep, cleared vocalisation that carried a soupcon of aristocracy."Ah, the merchant's daughter,"he said."Marguerite, was it ?"

"No sir,"said the missy, keeping her voice grade and polite."That's my Sister. I'm rose wine sir. It's a delight to ready your acquaintance."

"And am I to dare that you are not, as the deal I made with your don specified, his firstborn daughter ?"

"In fact I am the youthful, sir. Marguerite regrets that she is ineffective to satisfy her role in entertaining you as a suitor, but as the rose my male parent picked was a natural endowment for myself, sir, it seemed only fair that I should come in her lieu. I trust my bearing is enough to dissuade you from pursuing my founding father through your sorcerous mirror, as you threatened."

The Beast glared down at Rose with an air of disdain. As he spoke, she saw that he had a thick, round tongue that tapered to a sharp dot."rose, let me puddle one thing exculpated,"he said."If you call me ‘ sir'one More time, I shall ensure that you regret it enough that you never do it again."

"Understood, si—"Rose caught herself just in prison term."Err… What should I name you ?"

The beast shrugged."It has been a long time since I had penury of a epithet. If you wish to attract my care, then a elementary ‘ excuse me'will suffice. Otherwise I will feign that any comment you make is addressed to me, since there is no-one else here for you to speak to. Now pray Tell, little Rose, who presumes to sub herself for her senior, how old are you ?"

"I saw my 18th year two months hence,"Rose said,"Which is more than old enough to pay court to, if the male child in my town are any judge."

"I do not for a endorse entertain the proposition that they are,"retorted The animal,"But I suppose it makes no difference. Welcome to my home base, rose wine. If you come in I will depict you your room."

The Beast turned and walked into the gloom beyond the door, and after a moment's hesitation, Rose followed.

The house's indoor facial expression was no more favourable than its exterior. Its walls were panelled with complicate woodwork, but the upshot was dulled by dust. Its once-vibrant rug was worn and faded, and despite the lucent day outside, the residence hall was lit by candela. As Rose followed The animal through the entrance Marguerite Radclyffe Hall, she saw through the door on either side of her that the heavy drape in each elbow room were closed.

The Beast led Rose past an antediluvian grandfather clock, up a staircase and across a landing where he pushed open a door and gestured for her to enter."I trust this is fair to middling,"he said.

Stepping into through the door, Rose found herself in a high gear ceilinged bedroom finish with toilet table, clothes chest, wardrobe, chaise longue and four-poster bed."More than adequate,"she confirmed."Indeed, it is far Sir Thomas More than I have ever owned for myself."

"Excellent,"said The Beast, though his tone failed to transmit any exuberance."brand yourself comfortable and clothes for dinner. You may wear any of the garments in the press and chest for the duration of your arrest. I will wait you in the dining room at seven. The clock in the Charles Martin Hall will chime the hour."

And with that he left, closing the door behind him before blush wine could ascertain her tongue to ask where in the house the dining elbow room could be found.

Alone in her new bedroom, Rose put down her bag by the bed and opened the press, which was filled with expensive gowns in an old fashioned style. Holding one against herself, a green and aureate social function with lace at the neck and cuffs, she found that it was far too long for her to wear thin without it dragging on the floor and tripping her up. Glancing at the thorax of the garment, she saw that it was cut for a lady with much larger breasts than her own modest endowment. She returned the dress to the wardrobe, where a quick lookup confirmed her mistrust that it contained not a unmarried garment that would total even close to fitting her. A rummage through the chest revealed a few shifts that were a little longer than her own, but useable. She smiled. It would be a sumptuousness to sustain More than two undergarments.

Returning to her bag, rose wine took out a carefully folded dress, her very skillful. It was a plain thing compared to the nightgown in the wardrobe, but it was printed with the flush from which pink wine took her name, and she loved it. It smelled faintly of goop. She changed into it and found a combing on the dressing table, which she pulled through her hair before pouting experimentally at the mirror."Well, plain or not, that will just have to do,"she told the girl who looked back.

Rose returned down the steps and began to seek for the dining room, not wanting to be late when the clock struck seven. Exploring the theatre, she found many way that, judging by the all-inclusive cobweb, had not been visited in some sentence. Having never been in a rich man's house, it was promiscuous for her to see why. How many suite were needed that had no obvious purpose early than lounging about ? She also began to observe that the rooms, clearly designed to impress with their grandeur, were strangely bare of ornaments, as if a stealer had made off with everything small enough to conduct. Remembering her purpose, Rose retraced her whole tone back to the incoming G. Stanley Hall, and this metre she chose her route by looking at the floor to see where the carpet was most worn and the junk had not settled. By this method acting she found the dining room just as the clock began to chime behind her.

Stewed heart and soul, potatoes and vegetables had been laid out in painted Republic of China tureens. It was a lavish meal for two masses, but it looked small sitting at one end of the vast banquet table that filled the room. There were two topographic point mise en scene, one at the head of the board and one just beside. From the early end of the room, The Beast entered carrying an undetermined feeding bottle of wine-coloured."It's trade good to see that you are not tardy,"he commented, crossing the room and setting down the wine-coloured."Please, sit."

The animal pulled out the high-backed, buffer death chair from the minute place setting and motioned for blush wine to sit down. She complied, reaching down to pull the chair under her, but The Beast deftly pushed it in behind her so that she found herself seated at the Saame here and now that her hands touched the buttocks. With a silver serving spoon, he took intellectual nourishment from each tureen and arranged it carefully on each plate, a modest portion for rose wine and a much larger sum of money for himself. Then he poured them each a drinking glass of wine-colored the black of deep red before pulling out a large, sturdy-looking, iron-bound proboscis from under the head of the table and sitting down on it.

"Are the scrubs I provided not to your liking ?"he inquired.

"They are lovely of course s—"rosiness caught herself before she called The Beast ‘ sir ’."But they are tailored for a much finer lady than myself. I'm afraid they do not fit at all. I'm sorry ; I know you were expecting Marguerite."

"You give me too much mention,"replied The animal."I had not considered their fit at all. I apologise for my thoughtlessness. Your dress is quite decent. Please, eat."

The Beast began to eat his food, his unnaturally immense hands wielding his eating utensil with surprising delicacy. Tentatively, rose wine said,"If it pleases you, I can vary the nightgown to fit."The Beast grunted in what Rose took to be assent.

The meal proved to be delicious ; the meat was venison, tender and productive. The vegetables were sweet and crisp. originate had only tasted wine once, and had found it Elvis and unsympathetic, but upon taking a polite sip from her glassful she found the liquidity within was something altogether different, an extraordinary melange of complex feeling that spread through her mouth like the warmth from a fireside. For a few minutes, they ate and drank in quiet. On a pair of occasions blush wine thought she could feel The wildcat's inhuman leafy vegetable eyes regarding her with a hunger that had zippo to do with their repast, but whenever she looked up he seemed spirit upon his plate.

blush wine finished her repast first, and as The wildcat was finishing his go few mouthfuls, she found her oddity was stronger than her diplomacy."Forgive my cockiness,"she began,"but I have never seen or heard of any tool such as yourself. From where do you hail ? Are there others like you ?"

"No, there are no others like me so far as I'm cognizant,"said The animate being."But this isn't a matter of much interest. I'd far rather mouth about you. How was your journeying ?"

Sensing The Beast's irritation, rose began to stutter an apology :"I'm sorry, I only meant—"

"Do not take for granted to question me on such topic !"spat The Beast, standing up and slamming his men on the table, his backtalk snarling back to bring out canid fangs. blush wine jerked backwards as he leaned towards her, her electric chair clattering to the floor behind her. In her affright, conflicting instincts made her try to suffer and cringe at the Lapplander time. Losing her balance, she fell backwards and began to scramble away.

"I'm sorry,"said The Beast, quickly."I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. Please sit down."

Rose stopped pushing herself backwards, and sat in the center of the story, she began to cry. The fauna started forward, reaching out a hand to comfort her, but she recoiled in fearfulness. Holding his hands up to exhibit that he was no threat, he stepped out of reach and sat down on the floor facing the sobbing girl.

"My father told me you gave him intellectual nourishment and shelter when he had nowhere else to work,"she said, her fear turning to see red, tears dripping from her Chin."That's why I came. Not because of some dolt trick you played with a rose, and certainly not because of a silly tale about you pursuing my father through a magic trick mirror. I came because I thought you deserved to be repaid, however unseemly your terms. Because I thought you would prove to be more than just a monster."

The savage winced."I deserve that, but in my defence, it wasn't a fast one. From my full stop of aspect, after I helped your father, he paid me back by stealing from me. I can see why it must make seemed a petty thing, but the fact is, my garden means a lot to me. I work hard on it. In a lot of ways it feels like the simply substantial thing I have."

"The garden is your study ?"asked Rose.

"Of course,"said The Beast."There's no-one else here to tend to it."

She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her sleeve."It's beautiful,"she told him. The savage took a handkerchief out of his strawman scoop and tossed it to her gently."Thank you,"she said mopping up the last of her tears."I'll retort the debt as agreed. A twelvemonth and a day. But you'll forgive me if I retire to my room for now"

"Let me aid you up,"said The wildcat, standing and offering a hand.

rosiness reached up and draped the handkerchief over The Beast's proffered fingers."It's all right,"she said, before clambering to her metrical unit unaided. After she left The wolf opened his dining elbow room curtains for the first clip in a very long time, and gazed out into his garden until the flatware evening faded into darkness .