Gwen gathered all the herbs listed as fast as she could, and she rode on Thor to reach the castle. She dismissed the eerie aura she felt once she entered the boundaries of the curse; all she could think of was her sister.

"There's one more ingredient!" Aaron, who floated in front of her as her guide, said. "The Prince will give it to you!"

"The Prince?"

"You know him as the Beast." He quickly corrected himself.

"Did he injure her?!" Gwen inquired with a slight tone of threat in her voice. Indeed, if there was anything that could incite Gwen's fury that would usually concern her family—especially her twin.

Aaron furiously nodded his head, "It's quite the contrary."

Before the sprite could give a further explanation, they already reached the castle. With an adrenaline-enhanced agility, Gwen leaped down from the horseback and dashed to the castle entrance, where a clock was waiting. "Mademoiselle?"

"I brought the herbs…"

A set of pestle and mortar appeared before her. "Thank you, mademoiselle." He said, "Let me check…"

Gwen brought the herbs before him, which he examined carefully before he nodded. "Yes, this will do."

"Let me help you." Gwen offered quickly.

The physician looked at her carefully before nodding. "Follow me."

He led her through an empty, seemingly desolate hallway lit by the hanging candles. Gwen wondered whether all these candelabras could talk as well, or only the one she saw briefly when she had been here.

They finally reached a well-lit room with a wooden crafting table and shelf at the far end of the room. There were empty jars arranged neatly on the shelf. "I haven't been able to gather any herbs ever since the curse."

From the books, Gwen had learned about how to discern which medicinal herbs to use for what purpose and which parts of the plants to be processed in what way to make the most use of their medicinal properties, however, she had never received tutelage on how to actually brew a potion. Fortunately, under the careful guidance of the castle physician, she was able to do tasks the physician couldn't do himself (since he was constrained in being a set of mortar and pestle) and soon the bubbling sound of the brewing potion over a small pot could be heard.

While waiting impatiently, they heard someone was coming. Gwen turned around, and much to her shock the towering figure of the Beast came into her sight. Gwen held her breath; this was the first time she had a good look on the Beast—and he was more terrifying than she had thought. He resembled a wolf, but in a gargantuan size. When he stood on his back leg, even with a slightly hunched back, she barely reached his wide shoulder. Even with his mouth shut, there was a pair of sharp fangs protruding out from his upper jaw, reaching his chin. His clothes were tattered in various places, and there were several fresh wounds on his body. Gwen looked up and met a pair of deep violet eyes and under his intense gaze, Gwen couldn't hold back a shudder.

The Beast said nothing but gave her a vial filled with dark red liquid. Gwen took it tentatively, before braving herself to say, "Thank you,"

She heard a low grunting voice. "Let me treat your injuries."

Just as she took a step forward, the Beast took a step back and raised his arm, "Don't touch me!" it growled, and Gwen shrunk in fear upon his thundering voice.

The Beast caught that fear, and he felt guilty for having assumed that Reine's sister had the same fearless demeanour. "I… I mean…" he stuttered, before abruptly turning back and walked away, leaving the bewildered young woman behind.

Keeping her confusion inside of her, Gwen gave the vial to the physician who promptly added it to the boiling mixture. "Master is never good with people even before the curse," he explained, "please do not be offended."

"but why he won't let me treat his injuries?"

"He let your sister treat his wound… that's how we found out too late that she's poisoned."

Gwen glanced back at the door from which the Beast had walked away. Her earlier fear dissipated and gave way to something more akin to pity.

The Beast was a sad man.

Gwen rushed down the hall, led by Rod, to Reine's room with the potion clutched tightly against her chest. She practically burst into the room, where Jessica, Cheryl and Allen were waiting. She didn't greet any of them but immediately rushed to her sister side. Reine lied on the bed unmoved with her eyes shut. Her bright complexion had been reduced to pale white, as if she had been left out in the snowstorm for hours, and indeed, her skin was cold when touched.

"She lost consciousness a few minutes ago," Jessica explained.

Gwen glanced back at her sister again. She saw Reine's chest rose slightly before dropping again—and that's was the only indication that she was still alive.

"We have to administer this potion…" Gwen murmured. "But, how…?"

It was then Gwen saw Reine's chest dropped, but not rising again. Gwen waited with a bating heart, counting to three inwardly, but Reine was as still as mannequin.

Gwen grabbed Reine's unmoving body and cried hysterically. "No!"

When she opened her eyes, she found herself being stranded on a part of forest that she wasn't really familiar with. There was no snow; the ground was covered with newly sprouted grass and the branches were covered with baby leaves.

She stood up and straightened her back; she saw a tall tower reaching the sky at a distance. Now, she remembered the place; her father often brought her there to train her archery—the last time she went to this place was right after she had heard about her father's demise; and that was the only time she remembered she got very close to the castle before running away since she was discovered by a castle occupant.

She had never been there ever since.

"Reine,"

Reine turned abruptly and her heart felt like stopped beating when she saw the figure approaching her; his tied up brunette hair kissed by the golden sun, the faint shade of stubble covering his lower jaw, the rough muscles beneath the yellowed shirt, the worn out hunting gloves that smelled of oil, and the muddy boots.

"Papa…"

He laughed and patted Reine on her shoulder, "Look at you—what a woman!"

That laugh; the easy-going laugh that seemed to melt all the hardships in life. Reine threw her arms around her father, pressing her face close to his broad chest. He squeezed her for a while before letting go and Reine wept the tear that escaped her eye. "Is this… afterlife?"

"More like somewhere in between." Monsieur Rousseau began walking, and gestured for her daughter to come along. Reine, just like the old times she could begin to remember, followed faithfully. "Why don't you tell me how your life have been?"

"Um… I'm hunting." Reine replied. "And farming."

"That's all?" her father asked curiously, "No more dreams?"

"Last time I dreamed of something, it cost me you."

"Oh, dear…" he lamented, "You know… our lives are defined by the choices we make." He stopped walking and turned around; his warm hazel eyes gazed at his daughter in a mixture of love, sadness and guilt. "but how could you know what choices to make if you don't have any dreams?"

He raised his hand and touched her cheek gently, and Reine could feel her father's warmth. She closed her eyes, and her father's warmth melted the frozen tears she had kept for the past decade. "I'm sorry, Papa…" she finally said, "I'm sorry…"

"It's not your fault, ma bichette," he replied lovingly. "I love you… and love is never a mistake."

He continued walking, and Reine followed. Soon, he parted the thick bushes in front of them and revealed that they had been walking towards the direction of the tall tower that turned out to be a part of a grand castle that both seemed so foreign and magical, yet familiar and real to her at the same time.

Reine took a step forward closer to the castle, standing between her father and the grand castle.

"Now, I'm giving you a choice." Monsieur Rousseau said, extending his hand. "You can either take my hand, and we'll go together."

"Or?"

Her father smiled kindly, "You know the other option very well, ma bichette," he said. "Just like what I told you every time you miss the target: you can always choose to give it another shot, right?"

Reine hesitated. She had thought that she knew what she wanted, but after meeting her father, she couldn't be so sure anymore.

She raised her hand tentatively at the open, waiting palm of her father.

All we can do now is to wait.

That was the parting word the Goddess left him with. He knew that there was a limitation to how much a divine being could intervene in mortals' affair—which was why the Goddess couldn't overturn the curse since, as he had learned from her, the Fates had decreed it to be so.

Have faith, she had told him then.

Another petal dropped from the rose, and just like any other before it and others followed, the magical glow enveloping it vanished as soon as it touched the table surface. Neil watched the scenery in silence, wondering why this time his heart didn't sink it usually would upon watching the petal fell. There was only numbness—as if knowing that there was a greater darkness rather than this curse.

Was there something that he dreaded even more than the losing to the curse?

Gwen missed her sister by a breath,

while the Goddess still asked for Neil to 'have faith'.

Will his faith be sustained? Or is faith really a privilege he can't afford to have now?

Thanks for reading!

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