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Title: WHITE ROSES
Book One
The Story of a Beast
Rated: PG+
Email: mariejwchan@yahoo.com
URL: www.clik.to/mariejwchan
Chapter Two
As I floating buoyantly across the sea darkness permanently before laid my eyes. For a while I thought I was dead, that is until I gradually felt something harsh and solid rub against my hands and face. My head felt foggy and numb. I could feel my body lying on solid land. I tried to move but it wouldn't obey me.
I lay motionless on my stomach. Hours seemed to pass and I couldn't help but think that I had somehow landed in Hell. This darkness was overwhelming. Hearing something move in the distance, I tried to open my eyes. It sounded like muffled thumping.
A dog barked, startling my nerves. I opened my eyes as much as they would allow me and tilted my head up. A dark silhouette of a man hovered over me. The devil himself had come to take me! I opened my mouth and tried to scream but instead of a thrilling sound a croak came out; my throat was too dry. The man bent down towards me. I panicked and tried to move away.
'He's going to take my soul!'
That was the last coherent thought before I fell back into darkness.
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"Do you hear that, dear?"
Looking up from my patch work quilt, I watched my father place a large banquette of pure white roses on our elegant old grandfather table. Grandfather Melbourne made that table for my parents for their fifth wedding anniversary a long time ago. The petals on the table looked soft and wet from the rain outside. Father had placed a fine glass vase next to roses and already he was picking the best out of the bunch to fill the vase with.
I creased my forehead in confusion as I thought back to his question, "Hear what, father?"
"Hmm? Oh, the sounds of spring, it's heavenly. You can almost taste the romance in the air," He began to hum a tune that I knew all too well from my childhood days. The song was about a man that wished for a fairy to come and grant him eternal life.
Resting my quilt on my lap, I looked out the window. Soft rain was gently pattering against the glass, making soft tinking sounds. As I watched the rain fall I noticed the old oak trees that my great, great grand father planted. They gently swayed with the wind, to and fro, almost like a dance. I blinked, surprised as two birds, one yellow and one blue, suddenly appeared at the window-ceil. They shook their feathers then chirped to one another gaily. I smiled. It was a beautiful day and quite peaceful.
"The roses are beautiful, father," I commented as I turned my attention back to him. I was amazed how unspotted and clean the roses were. I had seen many roses while I was growing up. My father loved to cultivate them in the front of our mansion. Last year we had pink and the year before that we had yellow. This year he planted white roses. They were the purest white roses I had ever seen. The lamp light shone on them, making their edges glow.
"Serena," Suddenly Father picked up a rose from the buddle and walked to my chair, "For you, my dear," he carefully placed the rose on my lap. The petals looked like small white pillows against my bright quilted blanket.
He touched my chin and I looked up into his brown eyes. He smiled carefully, "White roses, my dear Serena, white roses… remember that."
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Bolting up, my breathing came short and panicked. Something woke me. A creaking sound echoed off the walls. I snapped my head to the left and then to the right. It was pitch dark and not even the moonlight shown. For a moment I thought I could be dead. However, just as soon as the thought entered my mind, it left. The ground was too real, the floor too chilly, the air too thick and damp. I couldn't be dead.
"Hello?" I called, "Is anyone there?"
Silence.
I swallowed, licked my chapped lips then whispered, "Where am I?"
I listened to the silence. I shivered and rubbed my arms. Immediately I noticed that my clothes were wet. What had happened? I remembered being on a ship and I couldn't help but wonder if it was it at the bottom of the sea. Then the thought came, 'Was Mary alright?'
"Miss?"
A voice! I quickly made it to my knees and searched in the darkness for a face, "Yes? Yes, someone is here! Where are you?"
"Here, Miss," a pause, "I have come to bring you some bread and tea."
A creaking noise and then a clank sounded before I finally noticed the dull sound of footsteps slowly coming towards me. As he came closer, I could see a faint outline of his body. He came within two feet of me and then crouched down, placing something on the floor. I watched his form with curiosity. Who was this man and was he someone to fear or to trust?
"Do you know where I am?" I asked then bit my lip, waiting for an answer.
"Don't you know, Miss?"
"No," my voice came out as a whisper, "I don't. Please tell me."
"You're in Valley Castle's prison tower."
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Shocked into silence, I didn't say anything. I could tell that the man was getting worried over my silence when he asked if I was alright. I thought that was a strange question to ask considering I was in a dark, cold tower.
"You say I'm in a prison tower?"
I barely saw his form nod in the dark, "Yes, Miss."
I nodded and then asked, fear seeping from my voice, "Um… why?"
He seemed surprised for he suddenly jerked away from me, "Miss, you are charged for trespassing on the king's land and for spying on his majesty."
"Spying? Trespassing?" I was suddenly very confused, "How can that be when I have never seen your king or his land?! I landed here by accident! I have no idea how I got here!"
Silence greeted my outburst.
"Sir?"
"You may call me James Blakemore; I am the king's person tenant. And my dear, you shall be here for a very long time," his voice was grave.
I trembled at his words, "What do you mean? I have done nothing! Can't you explain to your king that this is a mistake?"
"I cannot. He would not listen. You shall find that the rules here are not-. Well, you shall see soon enough. Goodnight Miss. Drink the tea before it gets cold, you shall need the warmth. I would bring you a quilt but the king would discover it… I must go."
I panicked, "Please! Please don't go! I don't want to be left here alone!" I tried to grab onto him but he stepped out of my reach, leaving me grasping at air. I quickly tried to scramble to my feet but my legs were weak and stiff and my head began throbbed from the exertion. The door shut with a loud creak and then a click. I was trapped!
"I'm sorry…truly, I am."
I sat listening to the fading footsteps. I felt one single tear fall down my cheek. What was I doing here? Had I somehow washed up onto this strange land? I should have asked what land this was and what King rules over it. My hands felt carefully for the tea and bread. I found the tea warm and the bread cold but I drank the tea and ate the bread greedily. Suddenly I felt quite sick. My stomach churned and then suddenly the food erupted and I coughed it all onto the dirty floor. I groaned; my stomach still felt like it was full of sea water, which I'm sure it was.
I weakly crawled over to the wall and slumped down, holding my stomach.
What was I going to do? The only thing I could think of was to wait out the night and then see how things looked in the morning. Surely it would be better than this nightmare and not at all as bad as it seemed
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"NO! Please, please! He is weak!" A loud whipping sound promptly pierced the air.
My eyes flew open. I swallowed hard as I looked around. My face was lying against the cold stone floor. As I noticed my surroundings, I indeed, found that the man from last night spoke the truth; I was in a prison with thick bars to keep me from escaping. Above me I heard more screaming and then silence. I sat up and looked up along the stone wall behind me. About five feet from the bottom there was a small narrow window.
I carefully stood up and walked to the window, gently placing my hands on the base and standing on my tiptoes to get a better look. I could tell that the sun had just barely come out despite my facing the west side of the valley. Glancing down and gasped then stared. Below me were hundreds of men, women and children. They were spread out in groups covering the base of the valley. My eyes were wide and my mouth hung open. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
Hundreds of slaves were chipping at stones, mixing mud, carving wood, tying large sticks together as well as other laborious projects. As I slowly looked further out, I saw the large stone wall that surrounded the city. It was almost complete but it was still missing the sentry walk as well as the tips of the gatehouse. It was a beautiful stone structure but my heart cried out for those building it. They were obviously in bondage for there were well built men, wearing fine clothing and carrying long whips in their hands, watching over them. The proud men stood among the slaves as they watched and gave orders, whipping more out of the slaves than the slaves had to give. On some of slaves, especially the older men, you could see bones rubbing against their skin as they carried heavy rocks and large wood beams. I cringed.
Slipping away from the wall I felt confused and heartbroken for those people below me. What was to become of my future? Did this king plan to plant me among the slaves or was I to live in this prison forever? What kind of King would put his people in slavery? I shivered. Not a good one.
I heard the sound of the prison bars opening and closing and then footsteps approaching. I turned around. Coming towards me was a tall, thin man.
"Who are you?" I shrunk against the wall, my eyes searching for any sign of malice in this man.
The man bowed, "Miss, I am James Blakemore from the previous night."
I immediately relaxed. It was good to know someone here was a friend. It was also nice to put a face to the shallow I saw the night before.
I looked him over. He had a thin oval face with heavy eyebrows that sat above his large sad brown eyes. His mouth was also thin, but not unpleasantly so, and I found his brown hair to be brushed back cleanly and away from his forehead. He wore a black tunic over his cream colored shirt and black pant tights. As I looked him over once more, I deemed Mr. Blakemore to be in his late thirties.
"Thank you… for the bread and tea…" I blushed remembering how my stomach had rejected it, "Although I'm afraid my stomach wasn't up to it."
He walked passed me to look out the window as I had done earlier, "You have you seen this?"
I nodded.
Turning to me he looked grave, "I am sorry you have come to this land. The king plans to keep you here… until you die as punishment. You will be alone for there are no other prisoners up here. There is a separate prison on the east side that is full of prisoners… but he has not sent you there."
"This prison is attached to the castle?" I asked, already knowing the answer. It was obvious I was in one of the castles towers.
He nodded, "I will try to do what I can for you but it will not be much. The king doesn't let me out of his sight very often," he looked me up and down, taking in my attire which was now a sad sight, "You are a lady, yes?" His eyes turned sorrowful.
"I am…" I didn't feel like a lady just then though. I felt like a small child with no power what-so-ever.
"Then I am most saddened for you will not be used to this life here."
I looked away, "I shall do fine, just as fine as any young woman…"
He didn't argue nor did he agree. There was silence for awhile before I finally turned to him with the many questions that had been spinning around my head the night before, "Who is this king and what kingdom am I in? How long have you served under him and what does he have you do? Do many people come to this land on accident? What other kingdoms does he associate with? Are there-"
James stopped me with a soft smile as he held up his hand, "My lady, please, I can only answer so many." He seemed somewhat amused at all my questions. I smiled despite my predicament.
"For your first question, the king is King Taroth the III of Castle Valley. I served his father since I was seven and then when King Taroth II died I served under his son. It has been eight years now."
"How old it the king?" I couldn't imagine him being too old for Mr. Blakemore was only in his thirties maybe forties.
"Twenty-five, his father died when he was eighteen and that's when he became king."
"He is young… that would be like Edward inheriting the throne." I didn't like the thought of that. Edward was a good man but he was prideful and thought too much of his own ideas. At such a young age, I doubt he would heed the High Council's advice. Obviously the king here was much the same.
"Who is Edward?" He asked. He looked a little lost yet curious.
I sighed softly, "He is Prince Chaundler of Wistler. He is also my cousin."
"Your cousin?" His eyes widened, "You are royalty then?"
I shook my head, "No, it's a long story. I shall tell you later if the opportunity comes."
Suddenly he straitened, looked out the window then sighed, "I must go, the Master will be wondering where I went. I shall have someone bring you up some bread and tea. Hopefully you shall keep it down this time. You will need the strength. Good day, my lady."
Nodding, I let him go. He opened the prison door, closed it without looking back and walked away. I sighed and backed up, leaning against the cold wall. At least now I knew where I was. James Blakemore was very helpful as far as information went. I wondered if I could get him to answer more questions next time. He seemed eager to talk.
Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my self. My dress had dried for the most part but it did little to keep the cold away from my skin. The morning air was cold and damp, leaving me cold inside and out.
"What am I to do up here? Sleep, pace, think… become mad?" The idea frightened me. I quickly pushed myself away from the wall and began to pace. I had to find a way out of here. I couldn't stay here! There were other people beside me to worry about. Father would be deathly worried, Margaret and Peggy would beg father to search for me and Edward… what would he think? What would he do? Would he look for me? I hated to think what would happen to my family. They would be sick with worry; I knew they would because I knew they loved me. Father was sick enough as it was with his heart attacks and fainting spells. I only hoped Margaret and her husband Thomas would be there for him.
I spent the rest of the day pacing, worrying, watching the slaves and when I couldn't take that anymore, I would pace again before slumping down in tears when I found I could do nothing.
A young maid wearing a dark veil over her face brought the tea and bread. I slowly ate and sipped it down this time. The maid then took the tray from last night as well as the one she just brought in silence. She left quickly and without a word.
I curled up against the wall under the window, and stared into the slowly dimming room. I watched the sunlight blaze through the window. The colors were amazing but it slowly disappeared down against the walls of my prison cell. My eyes were tired and they felt sore from keeping them open so long. I closed my eyes and imagined I was home again in my warm bed with the bright colored quilt covering it, the one I just finished before going to visit Edward. I imagined the smell of roses against my pillow. The scent would wafer all day through my window and rest on my sheets and pillowcase and then would linger all night. With that vivid picture in mind I fell asleep.
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Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the wood planks of the barn. I brushed Saralee and I watched, fascinated, as her brown and white coat shimmered in the morning sunlight. Saralee was my horse, a beautiful mare with the sweetest temperament. We had been friends ever since she was just a baby colt. Now she was tall, strong and an excellent ride. What a beautiful baby she was to me… Yes, my little baby despite her large frame.
She neighed into my hand and I laughed, "What? Oh, I'm sorry!" I quickly fetched a carrot out of my pocket. She nibbled on it. I smiled and finished brushing her.
"Serena! Serennna!" I heard Margaret call. I waited for her to enter the barn before answering her.
"I'm right here!" I called as I put a blue and cream colored blanket on Saralee's back and straitened it. Margaret approached and stepped onto the gate of Saralee's pen and leaned over it, "Where have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere! Of course, you would be in a barn, wouldn't you?" She looked at Saralee and cooed at her before turning her attention back to me, "Father wants to talk to you. He just got a letter from Whistler," She winked. I ignored her. She was always teasing me about flirting with Edward when I knew, and I knew she knew, that we were only friends.
"Alright, I'll go in. Just tell father I'm finishing up with Saralee."
Margaret sighed and nodded, "I should have had Thomas come look for you since he's home. But no, I come looking for you myself." She stepped off the gate and began walking away, "I think Edward's in love with you!" She sang. I rolled my eyes then whispered into Saralee's ear, "You think she's weird now, you should see her when it's four-o-clock in the morning and she's wide awake. She acts like a four year old."
Saralee snorted and let out a neigh that sounded more to me like a laugh. Smiling, I patted her on the back, "Be a good girl for me and don't get all dirty while I'm gone. I'll see you later today."
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"Ah, a princess, are you?"
I awoke as a deep voice echoed off the prison walls. At first I was a little disoriented but eventually my brain registered that there was a stranger in the room. I looked around me. It was completely dark once again. I stood up and leaned against the cold wall. At first I thought the voice could be Mr. Blakemore's but as I processed it in my mind, I could easily tell that the voice didn't belong to him. Mr. Blakemore's voice was much weaker and a lot softer.
"What? Who said that?" My voice came out in a strained whisper.
"Here to spy on me, are we? You know I won't have that."
The voice was low, threatening, and somewhat sarcastic.
"Who are you?"
"The question is, who are you and what are you doing here?"
"I…" I swallowed, "I don't know! I was… Our ship went down in a storm and… I don't know how I got here! Please, who are you?"
There was a deep chuckle, "Witches, all of you! Deceiving little witches! You will rot here, princess," he growled.
"Who are you? Please, I have done nothing!" I screamed, "Please, let me go! I will never speak a word of this place, if it is your wish! Please?"
Silence…
My breathing came out harshly, "Hello?"
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