Rosalind ran her hands over the yellow dress. Raising her gaze to the mirror, she saw that the gown fit her perfectly. The dainty straps glistened with crystals, the bodice hugged her slender frame. Plunging from the waist to trail at least two feet behind her was the ethereal hem. Rosalind subconsciously took hold of the dress and twirled from side to side as if in a dream.

Agnes' face was rigid. "Hold still, my lady," she said as she tied the bow at the back. The older woman wanted to tell Rosalind to get out of the dress and slip the simpler, yet equally stunning, lavender one Rosalind had brought from her home.

"Forgive me, maid. It was absentmindedness."

Agnes wanted to collect every single stitch of clothing that she herself had hung in the closet prior to Rosalind's arrival and hurl them into the flames.

Agnes remained stern-faced. In the mirror, Rosalind saw the maid's forehead creasing. "Is everything alright, good maid?"

Dropping her hands from the bow of the yellow dress, Agnes curtly nodded. "Dinner will be served shortly, my lady. Please be downstairs in fifteen minutes. I am confident you will find your way." With a swift curtsy, Agnes dismissed herself and slipped out of the room, leaving Rosalind alone.

A long row of candelabra rested on the stone walls. They gave off a gentle glow which led Rosalind down the hall.

The raven-haired lady made no noise as she walked to the staircase. Remembering the roses etched in the wooden banister, Rosalind ran her fingers over the carved buds. She lingered at the top of the steps admiring them.

In the shadows, wedged among the corners of the walls where no light dared shine, a pair of dark eyes peered out. The eyes hovered over Rosalind as she trailed her hand over the centuries-old wood. The dark eyes shifted to the young woman's face and to the dreamy smile lingering on her lips. Where is her fear? the owner of the eyes thought. Does she not know where she is or what could happen to her? Perhaps she is just a silly girl, one with confetti in her head instead of logic.

The figure in the shadows took a step forward and slipped one foot out of the veil of darkness silently, yet not silently enough.

Rosalind looked up in the direction of the faint noise cracking the hush. Her hand hovering millimeters from the banister. "Who is there? Good maid, is it you?"

The figure stepped back into the shadows when Rosalind brought her hands to her chest and clasped them together as if in prayer.

Silly girl. There is no God here. The lord of the manor made sure of that. the figure thought. It bowed its head sadly, turned, and vanished into the belly of the manor.

"This house whispers." Rosalind lowered her hands and drew in a deep breath. When she listened carefully enough, she heard the walls speaking to one another, or so she thought. It sounded like a young man speaking, one that sounded not much older than her. It was so faint that Rosalind couldn't honestly trust her ears. "Am I imagining things?" she asked herself curiously. Her green eyes darted to the stones of the walls as though expecting a reply. "Or am I simply going mad?"

With a shake of her head, she regained her composure. She would have to keep her fear in her pocket, not wear it as a cloak. In the distance, a clock chimed seven. Rosalind picked up her skirt so that she would not trip and made her way down the stairs.

Darkness engulfed the lower part of the home. The only light shining led Rosalind towards a vast dining area. A long table, easily able to sit a dozen people or more, awaited her. Tall copper candlesticks held slim yellow-gold candles that bathed the area in light. Rosalind gasped when she saw the banquet spread before her. Upon the crisp white linen was a feast fit for a king and queen. A roast duck lay uncarved on a porcelain dish. Twin quails dipped in their juices rested in two large silver platters. Surrounding the poultry, on high trays, were fruit that Rosalind barely ever saw: strawberries and raspberries, crisp red apples, and lush cherries. Fruit impossible to find in the snow-covered Transylvania. She saw a large loaf of bread and then many smaller buns which smelled sweet of cinnamon and brown sugar. Rosalind continued to look around wide-eyed. In a palm-sized crystal bowl were a handful of black, shiny candies with a deep emerald sheen. When Rosalind peered closer, the sweets' shimmer reminded her of beetles. She frowned and poked them with her finger. They made a silvery clinking sound when they bumped against the crystal. Rosalind had seen candy like that in a shop many times, candy which tasted like lemon or peppermint but it came in either bright yellow or light blue, never black.

She glided her fingertips along the linen tablecloth, over to the table setting. Rosalind noticed there were two sets of dishes, two sets of cutlery and two goblets, one set on opposite sides of the table. She tensed up. Dinner was going to be served shortly and she would have to dine with the Borgo Beast!

Rosalind stepped away from the table hastily and bumped into one of the chairs. The chair itself fell against the table which made the contents of one of the goblets spill onto the surface. Red wine soaked into the white cloth. The young woman scurried to pick up the fallen cup, but the damage was already done.

Her heart thudded. Foolish! she thought angrily. You have been here five minutes and you have already created chaos. Rosalind tried to place the goblet back in its place. Worry ate her up inside. What if she got yelled at? She did not fear Agnes, the maid looked like a fine person. It was her host whom she was terrified of. How she wished she were back home safe and snug in her room, perched on the windowsill watching the little butterflies flutter aimlessly about the flakes of snow.

The wine dripped down the length of the tablecloth, creating vivid red patterns in its wake. Rosalind felt her heart lurch out of her chest when she heard footsteps approaching.

She stumbled back, heading towards the safety of where the edge of the table met the wall. There she felt a false sense of security.

A long cloak swishing underfoot met with the footsteps. The sound was not from the entrance to the dining area Rosalind had entered, rather it came from a section of the room draped with long, purple and gold ceiling to floor curtains. A section far from the table which the candlelight did not reach.

"Forgive me for not welcoming you sooner, my lady," came a deep baritone.

Rosalind backed further towards the wall and found she had nowhere else to go. Tongue-tied, she waited for him to exit the shadows and come into view. Villagers had spoken about the lord's terrifying looks. Some people said of how he resembled a demon with spikes protruding from his head like a stag's horns. Some spoke of him looking like a bat with large black wings. Rosalind wanted to close her eyes and spare herself from whatever sort of horror the Borgo Beast was.

"I offer you my humble appreciation for accepting my invitation."

Rosalind's jaw clenched at those words and her own escaped her before she had a moment to think. "You gave me no choice, my lord."

For a few moments, the beast fell silent. Rosalind breathed heavily awaiting some sort of act of violence upon her for speaking her mind.

But that was not to be.

"Yes, I did. The choice you made was what you may call the lesser of two evils."

Rosalind wrung her hands. She was unsure if it was better that he remained hidden or not. "Will you honor your agreement, my lord, and treat me with respect?"

Caspian nodded. "You are my honored guest and will be treated with the utmost respect. I will harm you in no way. This I swear."

Rosalind's heart did not slow down. "Thank you, my lord," she said softly, "but they whisper of your reign of terror. They say you are the Devil. And I fear."

"I was never the devil albeit I was thought to be. I do not know what I am now."

Remembering her father's replay of the events in the forest, Rosalind angrily replied, "You are a beast. A madman murdering and threatening older gentlemen that you will kill their sons in the most wretched of ways. You are a monster making me feel I had no choice but to come here to save my family."

The lord's deep voice was calm. A faint musing in the way he spoke. "Yes. I am what you say I am and more."

"I do not want to be here, my lord, but I am. I will honor our agreement and I pray you will honor yours." Soon Rosalind's fury turned into pleading. "Once the month is over I beg of you never to come near my family and me again. Promise that for the rest of our days you will leave us in peace and never harm us. I want to return to the sunlight knowing your shadow is far away."

"Sunlight and shadows are the same, my lady. You will soon come to see that," replied the beast as he lingered in the darkness.

"Give me your word, my lord," Rosalind pleaded.

"I give no promise to any vow other than what I have already promised you." Caspian turned slightly but his gaze remained on his guest. "Enjoy the feast, my lady. Tomorrow perchance we will meet again."

Rosalind stared after his shadow as he turned away and headed deeper into the curtained area. With her heart racing, she slumped into the nearest chair feeling helpless. Rosalind buried her face into her hands and fought back the sting of tears. 

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