Ok Next Chapter, Spoiler Alert The Prince is coming Back...In the Next Chapter!

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Chapter 11: Regret

Jacqueline felt Louis's cold little fingers slip into her glove less hand. Curling her finger stiffly around his she attempted to comfort him…but it was no use. She couldn't comfort him, she barely had any desire to try. They stood huddled around the grave staring at the fresh covering of dirt that contrasted sharply with the white snow. Bells tolled in the distance announcing the hour, disrupting the silence that consumed the little town with a suffocating reverence.

In that grave, far below the snow lay their mother. And cradled in her lovingly arms was the baby girl whose eyes had never opened and whose lungs had never taken a breath. While the children who so desperately needed her were left behind.

Jacqueline had always wanted a sister. Now she regretted that wish more than she could have thought possible. She would have given anything, done anything, promised her very life if it were required, if only she could talk to her mother one last time. Death is the cruelest of punishments, not for those who have gone, but for the ones left behind.

As she looked at her brothers faces she saw that they all looked as lost as she felt. Even little Gaston seemed uncertain. Papa's face was as unreadable as stone. He stared into the distance, never making eye contact and never so much as glancing at the freshly dug grave before him.

The Priest gave the sign of the cross and closed his small brown book. A quiet amen echoed through the modest gathering of mourners who had come to pay their respects. No sooner had the sound of the closing prayer book reached their ears than Gaston turned on his heels, and marched towards the tavern without so much as a glance back.

The children watched him walk away, unsure whether they should follow, remain, or…truthfully they had no idea what to do. They had just lost their tether and were adrift, and it was now clear that the most logical individual for them to look to for guidance was not equipped for the task.

One by one the mourners dispersed until only the eight children remained forlornly beside their mother's grave. The quiet was all consuming, Jacqueline wanted to scream! But she couldn't, it was like there was a rock lodged in her throat blocking her air supply and making it painful to breath.

Maurice began to sniffle and she felt a red hot rage consume her. Without even looking at the little boy she silenced him with an angry hiss. Maurice coughed a few times and then swallowed his tears down, though his nose continued to drip. She couldn't deal with his tears now. If he began to cry she knew her own tears wouldn't be long in coming and if she began to cry right now she feared she would never stop.

Slowly Jacqueline became aware of several pairs of eyes watching her. She turned to see her seven brothers staring at her intently. They weren't kind looks, nor unkind ones. They were simply watching to see what should be done. Jacqueline realized that they would continue standing there forever unless someone told them what to do…but what should they do. Like a bolt of lightning she realized the most logical answer was to go home.

Tightening her grip on Louis hand she looked at her brothers sternly so they would not take her words for a suggestion.

"We're going home now."

Her voice faltered only slightly but her tone was commanding and a bit harsh. She couldn't help it, she was now in a possession of authority that she had no business being in. And like most who have to deal with more than they know how to manage she was going to become a bully in order to make those under her care do as she said. And so they wouldn't see the uncertainty that plagued her.

They trudged through the snow till they reached the path. There dirt and snow had mixed creating a brown icy mixture that was to solid to resemble mud but still clung to their shoes and clothes, soaking them in the process. At last their weary bones reached the cottage. Darkness was falling giving the house an ominous look that held no resemblance to the welcoming abode it had been all there lives.

Once inside Jacques struggled to close the door as the wind had picked up and was pushing back hard. Finally he managed it and the eight were plunged into darkness. Once again Maurice began to whimper. And Jacqueline felt her skin crawl with frustration.

"MAURICE BE QUIET!"

It didn't work and soon the little boy was blubbering along with Louis who didn't understand the situation and began to call for mama with outstretched arms. Jacqueline backed away from him her own feelings of loss becoming overwhelming. As the toddlers cried the others began to question.

"What do we do now genius?"

I don't know…

"I am hunger."

What do you want me to do about it?

"Where's Papa?"

I DON'T KNOW!

"Jackie is Mama coming back?"

Be quiet of PLEASE be Quiet!

The voices swarmed around her until she wanted to cut her ears off!

What am I supposed to do?

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" she shouted

Just to be sure they got the message she slapped Gaston who was dangerously close to her face and demanding answers. All the boys looked at her in surprise. Gaston and Jacqueline had fought many times before, even giving one another black eyes. But this was different, there was no one nearby to stop the fight…who was the highest authority?

Little Gaston held a hand to his pudgy cheek, his mouth open in a perfect circle. He studied his sister for a long time…The two were identical in height but Gaston seemed to shrink before his sister's glare. The wolf was unpinned and she had no one to hold her back. Jacqueline had always been stronger than her brother both as a fighter and mentally quicker. But her spirit was stronger as well. Gaston had never realized it before because mama or papa were always at hand to keep her in place but now her knew who was really in control and he didn't like it.

Gaston's face turned into a scowl but he backed away. Jacqueline now officially was the one in charge…and she had no idea what to do. A question made earlier came to mind and she decided to act on it.

"Everyone sit down."

They complied and all sat cross-legged on the rug. Jacqueline went over to the stove and cracked some eggs into a pan. She wasn't a good cook at all but she did know the basics of scrambling eggs. She had to fish a few shell fragments from the mixture but all in all it was alright. After cooking the eggs she grabbed what remained of a loaf of bread from the shelf. Checking it over she found a few spots where green twinges of mold were beginning to appear. Taking a knife she cut the patches off and with the loaf under her arm and pan in hand she returned to the rug.

By this time the boys had overcome their fear and were now squirming restlessly. Once the food was cooked they were all so overcome by hunger that none of them thought of getting plates to eat off of. Instead she set the pan down in the center of the rug and using bread for scoops they ate.

About half way through the meal complaints began to arise.

"These eggs are runny!"

"Get out of my way!"

"HEY! That was my piece!"

"Gross! Is that mold!"

Henri held up a piece of bread with a patch of green that Jacqueline had missed. Angrily she snatched it from his hand and tore out the offending section. Thrusting it back into his grimy hand she hissed.

"THERE! Now eat it before I cram it down your throat!"

"And the rest of you STARVE for all I care!"

There was a moment of silence before each began again to eat this time without comment.

A few hours later

As the bells once again tolled in the distance Jacqueline looked at the mass of sleeping bodies on the rug. They had fallen where they sat and now all were snoring peacefully. Hoping that when they woke this horrible nightmare would be over and life would return to what it had been before.

But she knew better. Separated from them all she sat back in a corner. Feeling more distant from the ones who were her blood then she had ever felt before. She had no affection for them, the one thing that had bound them together was gone and not coming back. She knew that her life had changed, in what way she wasn't entirely sure but she instinctively knew it was not for the better.

The Tavern

Gaston slammed his mug down against the counter so hard that the wood shook.

"Another one!"

The barmaid scurried to comply and in her haste overfilled the mug. Beer spilled over the sides and pooled around the vessel. Normally this would have result in a tongue lashing from the owner, but not today. Today he was too distracted to notice anything of his surroundings. He downed the mug of beer as quickly as its predecessor but it did not give him the freedom from thought he so desired. He had been drinking steadily for hours now trying to lose himself in drunkenness. He was drunk all right, but this time was different. This was not a drunkards laughing escape from reality. Instead it seemed that with each drink he became even more overcome by the reality and feelings he longed to flee. This was a drunkenness ridden with guilt.

I can't believe she's dead…He said it was my fault! Foolish man it couldn't have been my fault!

Gaston fought with his thoughts trying to deny the truth or wave it away. But for the first time and sadly the last in his life Gaston set his vanity aside and was able to see the truth as it really was.

No it wasn't her fault…it was mine.

"I should never have married Belle."

He said to no one as he once again raised his glass to his lips. Tears stung his eyes as they pooled there. Only now did he see a glimpse of his mistaken cruelty towards the woman who had been his faithful wife for 20 years, but whom he had never truly known. He should have been better to her, said he was sorry. But he hadn't, and he regretted it…too late.