Authoress's Note: Hullo to all!!! Sorry it's been SO LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG since I updated this...but I'm in the process of writing it, and I won't write in it unless I have enough time to put towards it, SO...yeah...but I'll try to update as soon as I can...reviews always encourage updates (hint, hint...)

Many thanks to: chava (u're right, Rosemarie will still be important, thanx for the questions - stuff for me to think on - and I'm afraid that my writer's block will not always be nonexistent, but hopefully it will be scarce), Jacquleine Schaeffer, eThErEaLAnGeL, Firebird (thanx for the email...sorry it's been so long! Hmmmm...good question...I said that Rosemarie was seventeen in chapter one(title one, chap two, tho), but she's closer to eighteen when she gets married (thanx to Chein for correcting me on this!)...I think I hav a line in there about her growing up fast...I know it's quick, but things were different back then, not to mention it's my own lil fantasy world!!! So there! Lol), RubyFaerie (yeah...I kinda feel sorry for him too...can't wait til he comes back into the story, tho!), no-one-of-consequence (yeah...actually, it surprised me, too...at first Rosemarie was gonna be the Beauty, but the story kinda took off on its own...kinda like Robin McKinley's quote that I think - correct me if I'm wrong - is at the beginning of Spindle's End, (i stand corrected~it's Rose Daughter, Sailor Zel reminded me~sorry, guys!) as where she talks about running behind her story ideas, waving her notebook in the air, screaming "WAIT!!!!" it was kinda like that!), Beatrice Mantanto (no, its' not the end!), and FairySpirite (sorry I made ya cry...unless u hav a cold and were snifflin already!)

Well, that's it, kids...on with chapter two!!!


~Jenny the chica~













Two




So it was that the child, Rosemarie's little girl, grew up without a mother. Henri was inconsolable for weeks, refusing to even look at his child. He did not feel strong enough to go on without the unwavering strength of his wife. He did not see how he could still run his business, not only without her, but with six children to take care of. The oldest, Marc, was only fourteen, and the oldest sister, Gabrielle, was eleven, much too young to be left to care for four little brothers and sisters. Besides, Marc was already helping his father on business.

After much thought, Henri decided to keep the children's nurse to care for them while he was away. It broke his heart to do so, because he knew how much his wife would have hated it, but he had to do what was best for his children. It is better for them to grow up with a father merely half the time and still eat than to have him there and they all starve.

He wept to himself, locked away in his small study. He wept over his loneliness, over how he couldn't take care of his children alone, how he missed them, and knew how they needed him, but that he lacked the strength to comfort them, wept for Rosemarie's family, heartbroken over their loss, but he cried the most over the fact that he could not even bring himself to look at his newborn daughter. The poor child did not even have a name. Henri knew in his head that it was not her fault that his wife was dead, but his heart ached over it.

Henri forced himself out of his chair and opened the study door. He was shocked to see six year-old Sylvie in the doorway, looking up at him, and holding a bundle clumsily in her hand.

"Papa," she whispered, "why did you go away? I missed you."

A tear rolled down Henri's cheek as he knelt next to his small daughter. "I'm so sorry. Papa's just sad, that's all."

"I miss Maman," Sylvie tearfully admitted. "Where did she go?"

"Oh sweetheart," Henri murmured as he pulled her close to him in a hug. "She's gone to heaven."

Sylvie sniffled. "That's what Aunt Colette said."

"When did she come?"

"She got here," Sylvie paused to thoughtfully count on her fingers, "four days ago."

The day after Rosemarie had died. And Henri hadn't even known about it.

Rosemarie had given birth a week and a half ago, but fever ravaged her weakened body for a week until she died. Henri had not left her side, but her delusions and feverish screams had broken his heart. She had rarely come back into consciousness, and when she did, she did not recognize anyone, not even him. He had had to leave her the morning on the day she died, to eat and rest, and the doctor said that she had asked for her baby, but only murmured "Beauty" before she had lost consciousness for the last time.

Sylvie nudged him, "Papa?"

He turned and smiled at her. "What is it?"

"Here." She handed him her bundle and he took it with trembling hands. He unfolded the blanket and gazed for the first time at his youngest daughter. Tears began to flow at a constant pace down his cheeks, but he did not bother to wipe them away.

She was asleep, but she had a beautifully precious smile on her small face, and she looked so...peaceful. Henri could not remember now why he had even attempted to blame anything on this innocent child. Everything about her reminded him of his wife. He somehow knew that she would be just like her. He realized that he had not lost his wife completely. He broke into a smile.

Sylvie just watched all this, extremely patient for a six year-old. "Do ya wanna know her name?" she quietly asked, unable to keep her childlike eagerness inside any longer.

Henri looked up, surprised. He had not known that she even had a name yet. Slightly hurt, he gently asked, "Who named her?"

Sylvie was confused, but answered, "Aunt Colette asked all of us - me, Jacques, Gabrielle, Bernard, and Marc - what we wanted it to be, and we agreed on a name."

"What was it?"

Sylvie looked down at her feet, suddenly not eager to talk at all.

"Sylvie," Henri cupped her chin and made her look at him. "What is her name?"

Sylvie mumbled something, but he could not hear her. "Please say it again, but just a little louder."

Sylvie looked up. "We named her Rosemarie, after Maman."








Ps~ PLEASE review!!!! Merci beaucoup! (HAH!!! that ryhmed...and sorry it was kinda short!)