If I Can't Love Her Prologue
Deep in the woods, far off from the beaten path, there was a castle, cold and dark, hidden from visitors. Magnificent but gothic, it would fill any viewers' eye with delight at the sheer opulence at first glance. But there had not been a single soul to intrude upon it for quite some time. And time had been unkind to it, one might have been able to imagine how lovely it once was but there was a sinister air hanging about it. The feeling lingered in the air, making the statutes and the turrets appear to be something less than beautiful, casting a long shadow.
There was only one true claim to beauty in the estate—the gardens. The gardens were exquisitely cared for—roses of every color filled the gardens, a sharp contrast to the almost medieval look to the castle. The red roses, the color of blood and rubies, gleamed even in the dying light, contrasted to the white ones, as pale as the moon. But there was one shadow; the tallest tower overlooked the garden, casting a shadow as long as it was dark over the garden. There in a high in a tower, if one had been a visitor, one might see the silhouette of someone or something in the window.
"There will never be a visitor here," he proclaimed softly, gazing out the window. The sky had darkened as night covered the sky, a dark starless night, how it reflected his own soul. A protesting voice was cut off with a sharp, "It has been many years and neither friend nor foe has traveled upon us yet. She did her work well." His voice turned bitter, as each word was poison on his tongue. "I expect that perhaps, we will have to content ourselves to live out the rest of our lives as we are." His head dropped as his voice lowered, taking on a dark, sad quality, "Leave me—I am poor company but you already knew that." He kept his back turned until he heard the sound of the door closing once more.
With a roar, he turned the table over, before covering his face, burying it in his hands and resisting the urge to cry out in frustration. He knew any more outbursts would draw the attention of his servants, who waited below for him. How cruel was fate? He'd never known until any and all hope had faded away and now he was simply left with resentment and anger—and sadness. What he would have given to go back to that day, he would have given all that he had to be something other than he was. And here he was punished for his sins again and again. And on top of that, he held the lives of those who served him in his grasp, how could she have believed that this was equitable but to curse those who worked for him when he was truly the one at fault. But she had proven to be as cruel as she was beautiful and faithful to her word.
He stalked over to a table, where in the center held a rose, a beautiful red rose, just beginning to wilt. A few petals lined the top of the table and the rose emanated a faint glow, magnified by the glass covering it. How he would long to reach over and touch it, how he longed to destroy the damned thing but he would not damn them all. He couldn't damn them all—his actions had already led to this and he was eternally sorry for them. He wondered if she was content with her actions, if she found them benefiting the crime.
"Perhaps, I do not deserve to a second chance." He said quietly, his eyes never leaving the rose. "It was foolish of me to think that perhaps I might have the opportunity…the chance…but it is not to be…" He turned away, looking into the mirror where all he could see was a creature so terrible that could hardly deserve to be treated with any kindness. He could not imagine that even if he was blessed with a visitor that he might be able to have them look beyond and see something, how could he ever imagine that they would be able to when he was unable to look past his own appearance.
"No beauty could me, no goodness improve me, no power on earth…" He sang brokenly. He had not realized how much he had relied upon hope until this very moment when he realized he had none. "No passion could reach me, no lesson could teach me…"
Several floors below, a male voice could be heard speaking to his companions. "I fear the master has given up all hope." "All is not lost, my love," a distinctly feminine voice replied. It cooed, "We cannot give up hope, it is all we have left." The male voice continued, "But it matters not. If we never have a visitor, then he will never have a chance—we will lose the chance…"
Unbeknownst to them, they did have a visitor this evening. Cruel as they thought her, she did not just abandon those who she cursed. She liked to check in from time to time—unseen by them—to see how he was faring, to see if he had changed. And she might be responsible for his change in outward appearance but she had simply brought out what was hidden within him. Her curses were always true and she did not like to think of herself as vindictive or unfair but even now, she wondered if she was fair to have extended his punishment to them. She had done it to teach him responsibility and to instill a certain amount of fear in him.
Silently, she made her way to the top of the tower and watched him sing. "No hope left within me." He really did have a remarkable voice, she decided listening to his song, maybe he spent his days composing or playing, she wondered idly, listening to him sing. She knew that before she had cursed him, he had devoted his life to pleasure and she knew that he had a certain fondness for the arts. She had never given it much thought, to be honest, but now as she watched him, she did wonder about the man whom she had cursed with no less then he deserved. Bitterly, he concluded, "Let the world be done with me."
As she listened to him and observed him once, she decided it was time. Perhaps, she had punished him enough. It was time to see, if in fact he was the same man-child who had no love in his heart or any kindness or indeed someone much better than before. This pitiful creature before her bore no resemblance to the arrogant young man of his youth but how is one to truly to know if he had changed? By sending someone who might restore that hope, she knew that everyone in the castle was lacking. And she might know just the girl to send.
With a thoughtful smile, she disappeared just as she came, unseen to the inhabitants and she reappeared outside the town nearby. Tomorrow, she would send him his final test. Should he be as changed as she might believe him, then perhaps his exterior might soon reflect what in his inner self. With that she disappeared form view, tomorrow would be the beginning of the end for him. May his stay in purgatory lead to either heaven or hell, but she would know once and for all if he had learned to see the beauty within.