Chapter 4: The Wreath of Roses

The path that led to the waterfall was made of finely grated sand. Bordering the path were miles and miles of flowers. Poppies, lilacs, roses, magnolias, lilies, irises, buttercups, Japanese blossoms, tulips, peach and orange blossoms, and thousands more she could not name. As for trees, there was oak, maple, cherry trees, apple, orange, and pear, there was honeysuckle, aspen. Many millions more tipped higher than the bright blue, cloud-covered skies. But what caught her attention was the bridge. The Japanese bridge, painted a rose red, which went over the crystal clear water. The stream's flow bounced happily over the little stones. And over to the side were cattails with frogs croaking. Oh, how beautiful it was here! And water lilies rippled with the water. And there was the waterfall again, farther down the little river. Suddenly, startling her from her gazing, a beech nut rolled to her feet. Bella picked it up and examined it. The nut had dent marks. Quickly, she put it back down. A squirrel had been trying to open this. As she predicted, an angry squirrel appeared, chattering crossly, grabbed its nut, and ran away. She laughed softly. Animals could be such cute little things. This was a Japanese Garden—with such striking sights. Bella turned; James was gazing hopefully at her.

"Well? Do you like it, Princess?" he asked expectantly.

She nodded slowly, trying not to express how wonderful it really was. "Yes. Yes, I do. It is wonderful. Do you have any bigger animals?"

James blinked. "No. But I can catch you some, if you'd like."

Bella sighed, but said, "You don't have to, but thank you. This is very pretty. I love it." Then her stomach growled. She grabbed her waist, embarrassed. She forgot how hungry she was. "Oh," she breathed.

James heard her. His head whipped around to face Laurent. "You forgot to feed her?" he snapped. "You foolish—I told you specifically to bring her here whole and unharmed! And unharmed included fully feed!"

Laurent flinched. So he was afraid of this man? "Go and tell the maids to make her soup! Then take her to her room."

Laurent bowed. "Yes, Master."

Once James was gone, Laurent grabbed her arm. Bella let out a squeal of pain. His crushing grip was hurting her shoulder from before. "Quiet, Princess! Do you want me to be thrown out? Would you like that? Well, I wouldn't." He led her to a plain door in the hall that smelled of mold. He threw her in, and hissed: "There's a dress in the closet, he wants you to wear it." With that, he closed the door. But just before it clicked closed, her foot stopped it. Laurent gave her an icy look. "What?" he snarled.

Bella put her hands on her hips. "Is the dress made of the finest silk? Or is it a peasant cloth?" she asked just as coldly. "If it is, I'm not wearing it! If it's as dingy as the rest of the place, no."

"How should I know, you bilge rat? Just put it on."

She smiled greedily. She wanted more meaningless threats. "What if I don't? If you hurt me, your master will surely slit your throat, wouldn't he?"

Laurent didn't answer. He showed her his blade and locked her in. But then his muffled purr came through. "You won't live to see the day, pretty!"

And he was gone.

Bella faced the room. The walls were a plain blue color, the floor cherry wood. In one corner, a desk stood, with nothing but a dried quill and a wrinkled piece of paper. Next to a small bed was a Japanese screen with orange blossoms painted on it. A bureau stood beside it, with carved handles. She opened it and there hung a long, beautiful dress fit for more than a queen. It was a very light green with little dark green roses. It was almost exactly like the one at home for her cousin's ball!

Home.

How she wished a thousand times over that was where she was. Were her parents, the servants, the guards…everyone…okay? Alive?

Where was Edward?

"Oh, Rosalie!"

James knocked loudly on her door. Rolling her eyes, she let him in.

"Ah, do you like your room?" he asked, smiling. He went over to the desk and set down a steaming bowl of soup. She breathed it in heartily. It smelled delicious!

"What kind is that, may I ask?" Bella dipped her head. It would take a while to get used to that, since her servants only did it—not her. "It smells great."

James grinned wider. "I'm glad. It's cream of cheese. I hope you like it." At the doorway, he continued: "Once you're done I would like you to wear that dress. It took quite a lot to get it. Had to almost sell my best—" He didn't finish. His guilty face gave him away. "Ah, well, enjoy! I'll send Laurent to get you in an hour's time."

Sighing heavily, she sat down to eat her soup. It indeed was very good. Bella took big spoonfuls, wanting more. But as soon as the soup reached the bottom, she was full.

Once she'd digested her dinner, she undressed and redressed in the green silk. It fit her perfectly. There was no mirror, though, so if her hair was flat, she had no way to fix it. Bella would complain to James about that. Or Laurent. Yes, it would be much funnier with Laurent. As if on cue, someone knocked. "Oh, Princess!" he purred like a cat.

He turned the knob, but she stopped it and held tight. He grunted, and she giggled quietly. "Open up, bilge rat!" He twisted harder, and Bella let go. The door burst open, and Laurent fell flat on his face. She put her hand to her mouth to stop from laughing. When he raised his head, his face was so red she could have thought he burned himself. A trickle of blood ran from his lip. Laurent noticed her stare and felt his mouth. He trembled. But all the same, he leaped to his feet and pointed his knife to her throat. She forgot how to breathe.

"If you ever do something like that again, sweetheart, I'll personally cut up your pretty face!"

He gave her a final icy glare and spun around and slammed the door so hard that the screen fell with a clatter. Tears flowed down her cheeks, hot and wet. Angrily, she wiped them away. Oh, where was her lover now? Was he looking for her? Yes, she was sure of that. Or was she?

Then a timid, almost inaudible, knock came. Bella jumped.

"Hello?" asked a small voice. She opened the door to reveal a short maid. She only stood to Bella's waist. The girl held out a wreath of roses. "I'm t-to give y-you this, Princess," she stuttered.

Bella gently took the crown, and smiled. The girl looked pleadingly at her, no doubt asking for help. It wasn't surprising—who would want to work for James? "Hush now, dear, I promise I'll get you out," she whispered.

The girl's eyes widened. "How are you going to do that, Princess?"

Bella straightened up. "I don't know yet. But we will be free, somehow."

"My name's Anne, Your Highness," she said while bowing. "My master wishes you to wear this, and then come down to his garden."

"Thank you, Anne. Will I see you soon?" Bella gazed at the little maid. She only looked about ten years old. Poor thing.

"I hope, Princess." She turned as an angry voice echoed down the halls. "Goodbye!" she called hastily.

Sighing, Bella put down the crown, set the screen right, and then went to the mirror with the roses. She placed them on her head, and then walked through the narrow corridors. Once at the door where James's garden was, furious voices reached her ears. Her hand froze on the handle.

"…she what?" came James's voice.

"Yeah! She punched me in the face and knocked me down! Little witch!" Then there was a pound on the table, no doubt Laurent's fist.

"Hardly a dainty thing like her would do that, even to you." James let out a soft laugh. But Laurent slammed his fist down again.

"She did! You're just letting her off because you're in love…"

That was all she heard. Bella bolted back to her room and flung herself on the bed. The tears came nonstop for what it felt like hours. This time she didn't wipe them away. Now she knew why James wanted her here, why this dress, why Laurent captured her, and so many other reasons…

James wanted a wife. And she was his target.

The wreath of roses was gone.

Brady was lying dead upon the floor.

A gash in his neck oozed blood. Fear swallowed him, leaving him rooted to the spot. All was silent in the huge castle, not a moving soul in sight.

He had been in the stables when a maid ran to him, a look of horror in her eyes and face. Right then, he knew something terrible happened.

"Someone broke in the castle!" she had cried, "Brady is dead! And Princess Bella is gone!"

Edward ran faster than he had in his life, and right now, his lover was the only thing that mattered. Rage—infuriating, burning, scorching rage—threatened to tear him apart. Somebody stole her, and that was the all-time low. Whoever took her didn't know what was coming. He racked his brain for a victim. Nothing came. And then he was back at the servants' quarters.

He pulled Brady's body out of the way. Edward opened the door to find a disgusting sight. Broken objects everywhere, fluff from pillows flying, shards of glass, locks of hair, and blood. Blood all over—on the walls, floor, cabinets, beds, desks… and in a corner was another maid. It was a girl named Violet. She was slumped against the wall, her eyes open. It was quite scary. He went over and shut her eyelids for her. "Rest peacefully, dear Violet." And he swore he could hear her voice, saying her thanks. She had practically raised him.

No other bodies were found by him, at least not in the servants' quarters. He couldn't bring himself to search the rest of the castle. Not even to find his king and queen. So Edward headed, as fast as his weary legs would carry him, to the stables. He readied his own horse for a long trip. He would find food later, for now it didn't matter—but information would. He found the maid who had brought him bad tidings.

"Who did this?" he demanded. His voice shook.

Hers did also. "They called him Laurent."

He tore down to the stables once more, not caring to say thanks, wondering who this person was, what he wanted, or where to find him. He would look on his own. Not a minute to spare. Only his lover mattered, nothing else. No one was going to harm her. He would cross the country. Come to think of it, she could be in that abandoned barn. Some said it was a garden of demons. He pulled himself up on his horse.

The gates crashed open and Edward and his horse disappeared into the sinking sun.

"Rosalie! Princess Rosalie! Answer the door, please!"

She turned the knob, and James smiled at her. But the smile instantly changed to a concerned frown. "Why are you tear-streaked?" he whispered.

Her finger traced her cheek. It was wet. She hated him so much, but what would he do to her if she refused? "What is that?" she asked instead. James looked at the package in his hands. It was small, tiny enough to be a —

"No!" she shrieked and flung herself on the bed again. Bella heard a little "huff" from him. Then pressure was added to her bed. She buried her face deeper in the pillows, muffling her sobs.

"Dear princess, do you know why I brought you here?"

Bella nodded. More tears flowed. "I heard you and your other knife-friend talking last night," she muttered.

"Oh? Oh! My dear, Laurent is certainly not my friend—although he very much loves his knife. Please look at me, Princess," he murmured, his voice suddenly serious.

Bella shook her head. This was it, the most terrifying moment of her life. James leaned down to her face, so they looked eye to eye. He gazed at her with concerning comfort. She immediately distrusted it. "Please, Rosalie. I won't hurt you. Please? I just have a question."

Then she thought, horrified: Don't tell Laurent, don't tell Laurent…

"I could call Laurent."

Reluctantly, she sat up. With a satisfied yet still solemn smile, he wiped away her tears and put her hair behind her ears. "You look very beautiful in your dress. I hoped you would look good. I also made you a rose crown. Where is it? Did that ugly—" He broke off when Bella glared at him. Anne certainly wasn't ugly. "I'm sorry." He watched his fingers. Then he sought her blue eyes. "Anyway, where did you put it?"

"I lost it," she replied sulkily.

"Oh." James stood and held out his hand for her. "Come with me," he murmured. But Bella only stared icily at it. "I need to show you something magical."

She couldn't resist that, even coming from him. "Okay." She placed her dainty hand into his big, plain ones. He grinned broadly.

James led her to the door where his garden was. The table and chairs were still there, and so was the slider door to the actual garden. When she looked uneasily at him, James only smiled and pulled open the door. There were those butterflies that fly in her insides! "Oh, gorgeous," she said, barely a whisper.

The flowers, trees, waterfall, everything was the same—oh!

A trio of golden-glowing deer gazed at Bella with golden eyes. A buck, a fawn, and a doe stood side by side, chewing gracefully at a marigold plant. Rooted to the spot where she stood, the buck elegantly walked over and stared with milky eyes. It blinked and snorted. Bella lifted her hand. It nudged it, and, startled, she leapt back. Scared but amazed as she was, nothing but awe came to her mind. The buck, doe, and fawn darted away suddenly as if they hadn't been there.

"Where did they go?" she asked, disappointment layered in her voice.

"To their den, I suppose. I bought them just for you. They come from the Heavens."

"The Heavens…"

Is that where Edward is?

He passed many fields, prairies, servants working away their feelings in the meadow, and things he did not have time for. His horse galloped through the cornfields, scattering mice and rabbits. He was very hungry, but his lover's health was more important. Day and night, they ran. And then he saw the barn.

The Devil's Barn; the Garden of Demons.

A/N: I like the Garden of Demons thing. I came up with it. ;)

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