Page 7 of The Curse and the Silver Rose

She had to act quickly, for her brothers were subtly preparing for the same journey. Raphael sharpened swords and polished boots. Marcel washed their traveling clothes in the creek and tended to the horses.

While doing so, they tried their best to keep their plan a secret. They took care to joke and relax with their sisters, showing interest in the dried wildflowers Colette was arranging and helping Amelie with the baking. They asked about Philomene and Laughlin and the everyday affairs of the village.

Meanwhile, Raphael slipped packets of dried meat and hard cheese from the larder into his knapsack when he thought Amelie wasn’t looking. As soon as he left the kitchen, she did the same.

Through the window, Marcel polished the saddles and checked the reins, surreptitiously looking over his shoulder. Colette sorted her flowers nearby, unaware. With her siblings occupied, Amelie took the opportunity to pack clothes and a comb into her satchel.

The brothers were so focused on their clandestine venture that they failed to notice Amelie planning one of her own. Had the circumstances not been so dire, she would’ve been amused.

She decided to leave that night, before her brothers could set off, and before her nerves failed her. Amelie had never traveled beyond her province, and certainly not alone. Her earlier excitement had coalesced into bonafide fear. Committing to grand adventures was easy while tucked safely in bed, owls hooting softly at the window. Once the moment for action arrived, in the glaring light of day, the prospect was far less alluring.

The dangers of her plan were immense. Raiders menaced travelers on the roads, stealing horses and inciting violence. Even if she managed to evade them, she might become lost. The kingdom was vast and she had no map. Or she might fall off the horse and injure herself, never to be found. To speak nothing of the horrors awaiting her at Castle Grange.

Betrothed to a beast, she thought miserably, as she kneaded dough on the kitchen bench. What an awful prospect. Not at all what she had in mind when she wished for a grand adventure.

And yet, she had to go. The lives of her beloved family members depended on her.

The day ended all too quickly. Before she knew it, Amelie was sharing supper with her siblings. She lingered over dessert, reluctant to say goodnight, for she didn’t know when she’d see them again.

Thankfully, Raphael and Marcel did the same, pushing their peach pie and cream around their bowls, and bringing up endless new topics of conversation. Colette alone ate cheerfully, helping herself to a second serving of pie while the others stole wistful glances around the cottage.

“Oh, really, what is going on this evening?” asked Colette, leaning back in her seat. “You’ve all barely touched your food.”

“I am tired from traveling,” said Raphael.

Marcel hastened to eat his dessert. “As am I.”

“And I am simply happy we’re together again,” said Amelie truthfully. “It is a great pleasure, and one I hope never to take for granted.”

“Aye,” said Raphael, cuffing her shoulder gently. “Well said.”

Amelie suspected her brothers did not plan to leave that evening. Their riding clothes were still drying, having been worn to filth on the return journey. Tonight would be Amelie’s best chance at beating them to the road, and she was determined to do it.

Still, her heart was heavy as she penned her farewell letter after they’d retired for the evening. She kept the note short and light-hearted, to avoid distressing Colette and her brothers more than necessary. Amelie outlined her intentions plainly, and told them not to follow her. Traveling to Castle Grange was her sincere wish, she wrote.

Last of all, she promised she would return home to visit when she was able. She tried not to dwell on the possibility that day might never come. For all she knew, she was riding to her death. Or something worse, to which Raphael had hauntingly alluded.

The night was inky dark when she pulled on her boots and cloak. Slinging her satchel over her shoulder, she made her way carefully through the cottage to the moonlit courtyard. In the shadows of the oak tree, the two horses dozed. The palomino roused as she drew close.

“Shhh, girl,” said Amelie, extending her hand and patting the mare’s velvety nose. “We’re going on a long ride tonight,” she whispered. “Is that alright?”

The palomino nudged her shoulder in response.

Amelie slid the freshly polished saddle and harness, which Marcel had concealed behind the stump, onto the horse’s back. She checked the silver rose was in her satchel, while hoping desperately she’d not need it.

As she put her foot in a stirrup and prepared to mount, a familiar voice from the courtyard made Amelie stop dead.

“What in all the blessed kingdoms do you think you are doing?”

CHAPTER 4

Amelie cringed, knowing she was caught red-handed.

Nothing could excuse her traveling cloak and satchel, nor preparing to mount a horse in the middle of the night. Colette strode over, still in her nightgown, her hair loose over her shoulders.

“Colette, please, you don’t understand.” Amelie clasped her hands together.

“Oh, but I believe I do.” Colette held up the note Amelie had left on the kitchen table. “I understand completely. You intend to give yourself willingly to this—” She squinted at the parchment in the pale moonlight. “—this Beast?”

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