Chapter 11

"I did the right thing. Did I not?"

"Yes, of course you did. You wouldn't have wanted her here."

Thomas sat on Alana's balcony, watching his once-beautiful home become blackened with the curse. The roses against the wall were no longer pure white but black at the tips of the petal. He was regretting his decision to let her go; but then again, what good would it have done for her to stay? All she would have been able to do was watch him die.

"You couldn't tell her the curse. Watching you fade would have only confused and alarmed her," Faith said consolingly. The other fairies nodded. They no longer had a sparkled, but flew slowly from place to place, their wings sagging.

"Joy, Faith, Hope," Thomas said, standing up and looking at them. "I… I want to thank you, for all that you've done for me. You helped me learn how to live again, and how to hope." He paused. "You did all you could do."

Hope, staying true to her namesake, said, "Thomas, you've lived a full life. You loved Alana, you learned your lesson."

"But she didn't love me in return," he said.

Joy sighed. "You don't know that, Thomas."

"And now I never will," he said softly. He left her room. The fairies fluttered behind him, praying for some sort of miracle.

All they could do now was hope.


Alana awoke on Evemass morning feeling not at all rested. She had slept a dreamless sleep, but still felt exhausted. She attributed it to all of her worrying.

Her door opened and Zora walked in, holding a piece of toast.

"Eat this before the vultures come," she said, giving it to Alana. Alana looked at her, puzzled.

"They are roping everyone and anyone into setting up," Zora explained.

Alana nodded and ate her toast.

"So," Zora said, "I still don't understand how you escaped."

"I didn't escape!" Alana exclaimed. "Why does everyone keep assuming that?"

"Because monstrous beasts don't just set people free."

"He isn't monstrous!" Alana said through a mouthful of toast.

"Right… you love him, I forgot."

Alana was about to answer when her mother came in.

"Alana, we really need your help," she said. "Get dressed and come down as soon as possible. Zora, they need help with the cake."

Zora nodded, and curtsying to the queen, she left. Alana got dressed, and followed her mother out the door, not noticing that the white rose was quickly turning black.


The day wore on, and Thomas felt a sharp pain in his chest where he supposed his heart would be. He felt weak and powerless; his head was filled with thoughts of Alana. The curse had won.

He visited the portrait of his family one last time. Their eternally smiling faces bore down on him, seemingly mocking and tormenting him. The curse was torturing him; he could hear his sister's screams and his parents' cries. The sorceress, it seemed, was laughing at him; he could hear it ringing throughout the castle.

He had failed. And the worse part was that he had finally fallen in love only to not have that love returned. The laughing grew stronger; he slumped to his room, not being able to take it anymore. The pain was intense; his eyes were pulled shut, and all he could see was Alana's face.

Giving in, he fell to his bed, and the world grew dark around him.


Alana had never worked so hard in her life. Her exhaustion becoming increasingly more unbearable, she helped with innumerous chairs, tables, flowers, candles, dresses, plates, forks, napkins, et cetera. It wasn't until three o'clock in the afternoon when her mother made her stop to get dressed. The ceremony began at four, and Alana looked a wreck. She was so mind-numbingly fatigued that she got into the satin pink dress and had her hair done without even one thought of the castle and Thomas.

Once dressed, she followed her mother into Davina's dressing room, where the bride-to-be stood in her royal white dress, wringing her hands.

"Alana! I am so glad you are here," the elder princess said.

"What's wrong?" Alana said, breaking somewhat out of her foggy state and realizing something was amiss.

"What if this is too early? What if I'm marrying the wrong man? What if, a year from now, I don't love him anymore?" Davina went on. Alana was beginning to relapse into her muddled mind, but then realized Davina had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly. Without thinking, she said some comforting words that must have worked, for Davina smiled and hugged her.

"Thank you," she said. "What did I ever do without you?"

Alana just smiled halfheartedly. The clock struck a quarter to four, and Davina asked Alana to go look and make sure everything was all right.

She left the room and carefully opened the back door to the ballroom. Everything seemed to be in order, so she went to check the grand hall, where the ceremony was to be. Orivo stood near the makeshift altar, looking awfully nervous himself. The chairs were nearly filled with an array of nobles and distant relations. Alana sighed and went back to the room. Assuring Davina everything was going to be fine, the queen hurried her out of the room. They had to walk in first, and her mother was almost as much of nervous wreck as Davina.

In a matter of minutes, the music began and Alana followed her mother into the hall, trying to walk in a straight line. Although her mind was hazy, something was tugging at the edges, as if something desperately wanted to break through the stupor. She tried to make it go away, but it persisted.

She barely listened to the ceremony, trying to think of what could possibly be wrong. She paid attention long enough to hear her sister and the prince pronounced husband and wife, and clapped as they exited the hall and into the ballroom. She scrambled to follow her mother out as well and immediately sat down the second she saw her chair.

The party began, and everyone got up to dance. Many came up to congratulate her and her mother on pulling together such a wonderful ceremony so very quickly. She supposed she nodded and smiled at the right places, but her vision became so blurred and her head began to hurt so badly that all she wanted to do was go to bed.

That's it! she thought. No one would notice her; both her sister and her mother were dancing, and no one else was really paying attention to her. She slowly stood up, and carefully walked away from the table and out of sight. Once in the hallway, she applauded herself and went up to her room.

Not bothering to take off her gown, she fell onto the bed and went straight to sleep.

But she wasn't going to get the restful sleep she had hoped for. She tossed and turned fitfully, sleeping but not resting. In her mind's eye, she could see Thomas, as clear as day, lying on a bed, his arm dangling off the side.

The dream shifted gears and now she saw them together, in the library. They were taking turns reading a book aloud to each other; somewhere deep in her subconscious she recognized this as one of the many times they had read together. Then she saw him giving her an orchid to put in her room; then, her playing the piano as he listened intently; him saving her from the wolf, and carrying her gently to the fireside; him discussing his family; them sitting by a fire, talking, content with each other's company.

Suddenly, the dream was clouded over with a smoky curtain. She saw a witch, laughing as she watched a man in a mirror turning horribly into a beast; the beast ripping apart tapestries, curtains, and carpets; then suddenly, very clearly, Alana heard,

"If you love, but are not loved in return, your heart shall break and you shall die a beast."

Then she saw herself, leaving the castle. She saw the castle become dark; the roses on the wall were turning black and the gardens were dead. Then came the worst of all; she saw Thomas falling, as if in slow motion, onto a bed. He lay there, completely still, no matter how many times Alana's subconscious willed him to get up.

Alana awoke, completely drenched in sweat. Gasping for breath and panic-stricken, she looked at the rose. The petals were black.

"No," she breathed. She picked it up, and pierced her finger on a thorn. Not caring, she noticed at the very bottom of the rose, a small part of it was still white.

The clock struck ten. Instinctively, she knew she had very little time, and grabbing the rose, ran out of the room. She flew past the ballroom, where the guests were still dancing the night away. She ran to the stable, and mounted the first horse she saw. Nudging it, it began to gallop.

"Hold on, Thomas," she whispered. "I'm coming."