CHAPTER 11

Gaston stared thunderstruck at the broken glass on the ground, unable to believe the catastrophe. "No..." he whispered. He fell to his knees and touched the earth where the sand had spilled, looking for any grain that might be left, just one... But it was gone. All gone.

Etienne looked at him impatiently, not understanding. So the dumb thing had broken. Big deal. "Come on!" he said aggressively. "Get up and fight."

Gaston didn't even look at him. He just kept staring at the remains of the hourglass, looking stunned. He picked up the pieces of broken glass, as if he could somehow fit them back together. But of course it was useless.

Etienne was starting to get spooked by the way Gaston kept staring at the broken pieces, as though Etienne wasn't even there. It gave him the creeps. Feeling suddenly uncertain, he backed away. I'll deal with that little runt another time, he told himself, and headed for home.

In a daze, Gaston stumbled into the inn and back to his room, and lay down on the bed. A sickening dread fell over him as the truth sank in. Just like that, it was all over. His dreams, his plans...gone.

He had survived the past five hellish years by clinging to the hope that he would eventually end the curse. At first, he had been certain of it: after all, he always won in the end, he had told himself. As long as there was a way to break the spell, he would break it. Even at his lowest point after Celeste, when he had believed that it was hopeless, he always knew in the back of his mind that he had time left - that as bad as things seemed, there was still that tiny possibility of redemption, no matter how remote. And of course, since meeting Genevieve, his hopes had soared. Finally, he had found the right girl to break the spell and end his nightmare.

But now the nightmare was permanent. There was no way he could ever return to his old life. It was gone forever.

The magnitude of his loss devastated him. He would never again know the awesome feeling of bringing down a magnificent buck with his gun from an impossible distance, or aiming his bow at a flock of geese flying overhead and letting the arrow fly at just the right moment, knowing it would unerringly hit its target. He would never be able to defend his girl's honor by punching out anyone who dared to insult her. He would never lift up an enormous boulder with one hand while admirers oohed and aahed. He would never win any more contests, or bring home any more trophies, or be the town hero. Not now. Not ever.

He would never again be strong and capable, confident that he could handle whatever situation came up. He would never walk down a street without the painful awareness that people were laughing at him. He would never even be able to simply look in the mirror and be glad at what he saw, instead of turning away in disgust.

He could no longer pretend to himself that this ugly form was just an illusion, like a costume that he would soon remove to reveal his true self. This is who I really am, and always will be, he thought desolately - this weak, pathetic little nobody, a joke. Everything that had once made him special was gone forever.

And Genevieve...she would never get to see what a magnificent person he had once been. How could he ever explain this to her?

Then he stopped short as realization hit him. Genevieve didn't know about the curse. As far as she knew, he was nothing more than a puny dwarf. And yet...today she had looked at him as though he were a hero. He wasn't strong or handsome or impressive, but she had called him "amazing." She saw something special and worthy in him, even without his legendary strength.

She was expecting him for dinner tomorrow, he realized, feeling suddenly hopeful. She was going to give him her answer - whether she would marry him. And he wanted to marry her, curse or no curse. He wanted to wake up every day and see her smiling at him for the rest of his life. Suddenly he couldn't wait to see her.

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Genevieve was normally the calmest and most collected of people, but not tonight. She was flitting about her house in a tizzy, in an excited, flustered state totally out of character for her. As the hour grew late, she went to bed, but there was no way she could possibly sleep. She lay awake for hours, her mind racing.

He had asked her to marry him. She couldn't believe it. It seemed like a dream, but it was really happening.

Genevieve had never had a man in her life. After that village dance so many years ago, she had understood that her appearance meant she was unlikely to get married. So, with her usual practicality, and without self-pity, she had put aside her girlish dreams of romance and family, and focused on all the positive things in her life: her thriving career, her warm circle of friends, her many hobbies, her beloved dog and horses. She had even enjoyed the company of children, always happy to mind her friends' little ones when they needed a break. Her life had been full, and she had lived without regret, never looking back.

Gaston's appearance in her life had been a welcome surprise, and she had come to cherish his friendship. But she had reminded herself that he would be moving on soon, and refused to allow herself to dream or indulge in "what-ifs." She firmly believed in living in the "here and now." Life was less disappointing that way. She knew, with a pang, that she would miss him when he left, but she had tried to simply enjoy the time she had with him without expecting anything more.

But now, he had actually asked her to marry him. It was incredible. And the way he had looked at her when he proposed...No one had ever looked at her that way. Like she was special. Like she was...beautiful.

She was still in awe of the way he had defended her honor against that brute Etienne. It was the most romantic thing she had ever seen. To her, the fact that was so small and weak himself only made his actions that much more brave and heroic.

He was the most amazing man she had ever known. And he loved her. What had she done to earn such happiness?

She smiled as she remembered the wonderful month they had spent together, how much she enjoyed his company, how close she felt to him. She loved his odd mixture of self-confidence and vulnerability - the way that he would proudly brag and boast about his many accomplishments, but then become so touchingly sweet and shy when he would ask if he could see her again. And then look so happy when she said yes, as though she'd given him a present.

Even his appearance, which would be a negative to anyone else, was a positive to her. Like her, he knew how it felt to be different. It was just one more bond they shared. Together they would laugh at idiots like Etienne, she thought, smiling.

Oh, there was so much to do, so much to think about! Would Gaston continue peddling around France, she wondered, or would he want to give it up and settle down? If he continued peddling, should she travel with him, or hold down the fort at home? And if he did quit travelling, would they settle here in Reillanne, or in his home town? She knew he was homesick for his tiny village. She was open to the possibility of moving, but she would have to visit the place first to make sure she liked it, she thought.

And then there was the wedding itself. She couldn't help smiling at the idea of making her own wedding gown. She had made beautiful, frothy concoctions for countless brides, but never, ever thought she would have the opportunity to create her own. And she would make a wedding suit for Gaston too, she thought - something truly fine and special.

She hugged herself with excitement. It was all too wonderful.

She looked out the window. The night had finally passed, and dawn was breaking. Genevieve let out a sigh of frustration. Why on earth had she told him to come for dinner? It was an eternity away. She should have told him to come for breakfast. She could have made him those eggs that he liked so much. She felt as though she couldn't wait one more second to see him and tell him her answer. This was going to be the longest day of her life, she thought.

Throughout the day, Genevieve tried to keep busy with sewing, gardening and cooking, but she couldn't focus on anything. The hours passed so slowly, it felt to her as though time had stopped.

Finally it was 6:00. She watched for him at the window. There he was! Her heart was beating so fast, she thought he must hear it. She opened the door before he could even knock.

He smiled shyly and held out a bouquet of roses. "Thank you," she said, beaming. God, how she loved him. She put them in a vase on the kitchen table.

He followed her in. "Genevieve?" he asked hesitantly. He was suddenly nervous. Maybe she would say no. "Have you thought about it? Will you...?"

"YES!" she burst out before he could finish. "Yes, I'll marry you."

He was overcome with relief and happiness. "Oh, Genevieve, I love you."

"I love you too, Gaston," she said joyfully. She embraced him and kissed him.

But...but...something was different. Something was wrong. Genevieve let go of him, looked up, and screamed.

Gaston was gone. In his place was a tall, handsome man she had never seen before.