Chapter Thirty-Two: Invaders!
Inside the castle, the staff members felt as though they were already dead.
Their one hope of salvation - Christine - had fled, and now the master was back to brooding, the rose was still wilting, and they had no chance of reversing the curse before it was too late.
As the night had grown darker, they had gathered in the foyer, taking solace in all they had left - each other.
Madame Giry, Marie and Elisabeth nuzzled together on the serving trolley as Meg the music box tinkled softly next to them, one of the other servants having brought her downstairs earlier.
Fleurette rested her head on André's shoulder, his flames having long since grown dim and his expression was as drawn and as serious as that of Firmin, who stood off to the side.
"He's finally learned to love," André said sadly, gazing toward the West Wing balcony where the master stood.
"A lot of good that does us if she doesn't love him in return!" Firmin pointed out.
He crossed his arms and pouted petulantly.
"It's not too late," Fleurette chimed in hopefully. "She could still return..."
"No..." Madame Giry said regretfully.
"This evening was the first time I've had any real hope that the curse could be broken, but now that he's let her go..." she trailed off.
Firmin opened his mouth to make a snippy retort but was stopped by Marie.
The elder teacup had turned toward the door and was listening intently.
"Did you hear that, Maman?" she asked.
"Is it her?" Elisabeth chimed in, jumping down from the serving trolley and hopping over to the window.
The rest of the staff rushed to join Elisabeth at the window.
They strained at the windowpane, trying to hear whatever it was that the elder teacup had heard.
In the distance, they saw light from torches flash through the trees.
André's flames erupted in excitement.
"Could it be? he asked, pushing through the other staff.
It was hard to see outside through the frost that covered the window.
He held up a flame, warming the window until the frost melted.
Then he let out a shout of dismay.
"Sacre bleu!" he cried out in horror.
"Invaders!"
The others peered through the cleared window.
André was right.
It wasn't Christine coming through the woods, returning to declare her love and break the spell.
It was a mob!
And from the looks of it, a very angry mob.
The villagers pushed through the castle gate and made their way across the bridge up to the colonnade.
Leading the charge was tall, broad man on a huge white stallion.
As the staff watched, he turned and addressed the mob.
"Take whatever treasures you can find!" he roared.
"Just remember, that freak is mine!"
The staff collectively gasped in fear.
What were they going to do?
Firmin knew exactly what he had to do.
He had to warn the master!
Leaving the others to form a small, sad barricade at the front door, Firmin headed up to the West Wing.
Peering around, he finally spotted the lone masked figure standing in front of the glass jar that held the enchanted rose.
There were only two petals left now, and as he watched, one broke away and drifted to the bottom of the jar.
He cleared his throat.
"Oh, pardon me, Your Grace!" he wheezed nervously.
"Leave me in peace," Erik said hopelessly, not bothering to look up.
"But, Master, the castle is under attack!" Firmin burst out urgently.
Erik still didn't look up.
When he spoke next, his voice was filled with pain.
"It doesn't matter now," he said sadly, finally raising his head.
His piercing amber eyes were glazed over with held-back tears.
"Why fight? Just let them come."
Firmin had had enough.
Gone was the calm, patient, loyal majordomo.
He had spent far too many years stuck as a clock to have the master give up now.
He had watched the master throw away his only chance at happiness and had silently let him.
But not anymore.
Now he was going to speak his mind.
"Why fight?" he snapped furiously.
"Why indeed! Why do any damned thing at all?"
Finishing, Firmin caught his breath and waited for the master to say something, anything, in return.
But all he did was lower his head once more as he turned his back on him.
With a sigh, Firmin turned and began the long walk back to the foyer.
It looked like the staff were on their own.
A/N: Please review to unlock Chapter Thirty-Three...