Rachel Hawkins - Grim

“CEO,” Chad mumbled. “And it’s up to Beauty. She’s the one who saved me, right? She went on the quest and broke the curse. She’s the hero. She can decide on the ending.”

It was another moment for Beauty where she could look at him and recognize her Beast without a doubt. Then she looked out the window of the enchantress’s tower and saw the rolling green fields, little villages and grand castles of her land, laid out before her. She knew what would happen if she stayed: security, love, happiness within certain boundaries. Beauty thought what might lie beyond those lands: for Chad an inheritance, which would let him be kind, and for herself another adventure, which would let her be brave.

“Will you tell my family,” she asked the evil enchantress, “that I’m happy?”

“Not safe?”

Beauty smiled. “I don’t want to be entirely safe.”

Aimee the evil enchantress smiled, and snapped her fingers.

* * * * *

A long time ago, below the sharp peaks of the Graulumberg Mountains, past the dark branches of the Verzanfrost Woods and over the cold waters of the Eisenfluss River was a quiet kingdom nestled in the valley. Once, it had been a bustling, vibrant kingdom, but the echoes of its glory had begun to fade.

It was the quiet that had begun to wear on the fair Queen Rose. She preferred to sit in the wild garden behind the palace, where the songs of the birds, the buzz of the bees and the rustling of the animals were there to ward off the growing silence.

The people in the kingdom called it the Queen’s Garden, but it wasn’t Rose’s garden. It had belonged to her husband’s great-grandmother, and while it had been tamed and groomed once, it had taken on a life of its own. The flowers overgrown from their gardens, the vines climbing over the fruit trees, the insects and all manner of beasts roaming freely—that was precisely as Rose liked it.

So while she loved the garden, it wasn’t hers. She let it belong to the flowers and the animals, the way it ought to.

When her husband, King Elrik, went out to the garden, he found his queen in her favorite spot. She sat among the pink carnations, unmindful of the dirt on her gown. Her dark hair was worn in a long braid, and though she was looking down, Elrik could see a tear falling down her cheek.

“My love, you mustn’t cry,” Elrik told his wife, and he held out his handkerchief to her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my lord.” Her cheeks turned the color of amaranth, nearly matching the carnations around her, as she wiped her tears away in haste. “I did not mean for you to see me like this.”

“There is no need for apologies, or tears,” Elrik said, his voice firm but gentle. He was a just ruler, and he always spoke like one, sometimes to the consternation of his wife.

Rose got to her feet, brushing petals and leaves from her dress. The tears had stopped, but she still didn’t brave looking up at her husband. She asked, “Am I needed inside the palace?”

“Not at the moment,” Elrik replied. “I came out to see you. The visit with the midwife this morning seemed to have left you saddened.”

Rose shook her head as she stared down. “The midwife, the doctors, my ladies in waiting, they all assure me these things take time. But the villagers are worried, and I’ve heard your advisors whisper in the hall.”

“What advisors?” asked the king, no doubt already planning a punishment for those who had hurt his wife. “Who is whispering about my queen?”

“Everyone,” she replied wearily, and lifted her eyes to meet his. “By now, everyone has begun to talk. But that’s not even what has my heart so heavy.” A tear slid down her cheek. “Why can I not have a baby?”

When she tried to look away, Elrik gently put his hand on her chin so she would look up at him.

“Rose,” he said with the tenderness he reserved for when they were alone, “I love you. Together, we will have a child. It will only take a bit more time.”

As she searched her husband’s gray eyes, she saw that he was beginning to doubt the truth in his words. Though Elrik did love her, their three years of childless marriage had begun to wear on him.

When they’d wed, though Rose had only just reached her sixteenth birthday, Elrik had already been in his middle age. He didn’t have the kind of time a younger man might have. Much too soon, he would need an heir.

“I love you, Elrik,” Rose told him simply, and she stood on her toes so she could lean up and kiss him.

When they separated, Elrik told her, “I must go back inside to meet with my advisors. Will you be joining me?”

“Not quite yet.”

The king eyed up his bride. “Are you still saddened?”

“I’m better, thank you.” She smiled at him, hoping to ease her husband’s worry.

A berry bush rustled nearby, and Elrik stepped in front of Rose and reached for the sword sheathed in his belt, preparing to defend her from any attacker. No sooner had his hand touched the guard when a mottled boar piglet came out of the brush, rooting around for grubs.

“Oh, it’s a darling piglet!” Rose knelt down and reached out her hand, meaning to summon the baby to her.

“My queen, you must be careful,” the king commanded.

“It’s only a baby,” Rose told him with a laugh. The piglet trotted close to her, its small tail wagging behind it, and stopped for her to pet its soft fur.

“Where there’s a baby, there is an angry mother nearby,” the king warned her.

The queen scooped the piglet onto her lap. “The boars are harmless when left alone.”

“You are too kind,” Elrik said, sounding almost weary of it. “There are too many wild beasts running about here. It’s no place for a young queen to be alone.”

“I will be fine, my king,” Rose told him. “Go inside, conduct your business, and I will be along shortly.”

The king bade her farewell, and Rose let the piglet off her lap. It squealed in delight, then disappeared in the bushes, leaving the queen alone with her heavy heart.

Her sadness hadn’t lessened any after her visit with Elrik. If anything, it had deepened. When the king had first taken an interest in her, Rose had almost instantly fallen in love with his gentle heart and fair nature, and she’d thought all her dreams had come true.

But with each passing year, her dream had begun to wear away. Soon, she would be left without her garden, her home, her husband. His kingdom would pass to his nearest advisor if the king had no children, and she would be alone and destitute.

The queen lay down on the ground, burying her face in her arms as she wept. Around her, the garden fell silent, and the sound of her sobs floated up to the heavens above her. She begged the gods to take pity on her, because she couldn’t bear the heartbreak anymore.

“Hush, child.” A soothing voice spoke in her ear, and Rose felt a strong, warm hand on her shoulder.

She lifted her head to see a man standing over her. He was handsome beyond anything she’d seen before, and light seemed to illuminate him from within, making his golden hair glow. White feathered wings spread out behind him, and though Rose had never seen a creature like him before, she felt no fear.

“Who are you?” Rose asked, and sat up so she would face him.