Tale as Old as Time

Beauty and the Beast

The story of Beauty and her Beast has been told many times, and though those were very lovely tales, that is all they were: tales. None of them hold the truth of what happened in that dark castle in the woods. I tried to sit back and just let the stories that were accumulating in the town become what they may, but the more the story was mangled the harder it was for me to hold my tongue. Now, two years after she came into our lives, I have decided to share the truth. How, you might ask, do I know the real story when others do not? Well, I will tell you…

In the thick of the forest, almost a full day's ride from the small town of Rose Hill, stood the huge mansion of Victor Leone. He really was a beastly man. He was married three times, but each of his wives died in the same way. He excused their illnesses by saying it was a sign of weakness, and he did not want someone weak for a wife anyways. Though I believe it was not an illness, but a broken heart which they all suffered from when they realized they had married an unkind, unloving man who would never change.

Victor's second wife gave him a son before she died, and it seemed for a while that they would make a happy little family, but as much as Victor's wife begged he would not let her leave the house not even for a short visit to Rose Hill, and she soon passed on. Shortly after his second wife died, Victor had married another woman. After she died, his son disappeared, and ever since then Victor has been horrible to us.

You must be wondering who 'us' is. Well, my name is Nancy Potts, and I came to Castle Leone with my husband Henry twenty years ago. Henry is Victor's butler, and I am the cook. Our son, Oliver, is ten now and he helps me out in the kitchen. There are two maids, sisters Louise and Fiona, who came here six years ago after the other maid escaped. Yes, I did say escaped. You see, once you enter Castle Leone, you don't leave until you die. That is, besides Doreen, the old maid, and I still don't know how she managed to get away.

Now that introductions have been made, on with the story…

Two years ago, in the afternoon when Oliver and I were just beginning to prepare supper and Henry was chatting with us while drinking some coffee, three loud pounds echoed through the house announcing that a visitor was here.

"That's strange," Henry set his cup down on the table, a frown on his wrinkling face, "I don't remember Victor saying we would be expecting company this evening."

"Neither do I, dear." I replied. "Why don't you go and see who it is?"

"I will!" Oliver called, his blue eyes lighting up with excitement, and he jumped down from the stool where he was stirring the vegetable soup.

I put out my arm to cut off his path to the door, "No you don't, Ollie, you stay here and stir the soup."

Oliver pouted, but went back to stirring while his father left the room. A moment later an angered shout was heard, "I've got it! Get out! Get out!" And Henry shuffled into the room soon after.

"Why was Victor shouting?" I questioned my husband.

Henry put a hand to his forehead and brushed his graying light brown hair out of his eyes before saying, "I have no idea, but there is a man here. I suppose he has a business deal to work out with Victor."

We didn't find out what that 'business deal' was until almost a month later, when I heard one thud from the door knocker against the tall wooden door as I passed through entryway to my and Henry's rooms looking for Oliver. This knock was much quieter than the three we heard nearly a month before. I looked around for Victor before opening the door myself.

Outside stood a young woman who looked as though she'd rather be anywhere but where she was standing right then. She was beautiful with long dark curls and big honey brown eyes. I smiled kindly at her and said, "Well, come in dear, it is frightfully cold out there."

She bowed her head and stepped into the room where she stood awkwardly, waiting for instructions and holding a big pack in front of her body as if to ward off anyone from getting too close.

"What are you here for, child?" I questioned, leading the way into the parlor and gesturing for her to take a seat. She sat, but kept that big bag on her lap.

"My name is Anabella," She began quietly, "My papa sent me here to be married to Victor Leone."

My jaw nearly dropped in shock. This poor child must only be sixteen or so and now she was doomed to spend the rest of her surely short days withering away to nothing in the grasp of Victor. Her beauty would be wasted on a man that did not deserve her, and I could do nothing about it.

"Anabella. That is a very pretty name. I am Nancy Potts, Victor's cook." I tried to keep a cheerful smile on my face, though I felt I was tricking the girl into believing this was not as bad a place as it seemed. "How old are you? And why are you marrying Victor?"

"I'm sixteen." Anabella answered. "My mama died last year and my papa does not have enough money to take care of me and my two younger sisters, so he came here last month to make a deal with Victor. My father will be paid for each month that I am here. We are to be married come spring."

I was relieved, it was only early November, and there was still time to find a way to get this girl her life back. Pounding footsteps were coming down the stairs and Anabella jumped. She looked to be struggling to hold back tears and she whispered, "Is that him?" I nodded. "Is he horrible?" I hesitated and then nodded again. One tear slipped down Anabella's cheek before he entered the room.