The Daedalry

It seemed she had gone from bad to worse.

She had only had to deal with one stepmother. One “Evil Queen.”

Here she had to deal with seven dirty little men.

Seven dirty little men that expected her to clean and cook and place seven kisses on their heads when they left for work, and on their cheeks when they came home filthy from the mines.

She had assumed she would at least have her privacy here.  But no. These men had enlisted the animals to watch over her…her tale of a stepmother after her heart had been too compelling to the old fools.  They had fallen too deeply into it and had made it their duty to protect her.

Every second of every day she was watched by something. Beast. Bird. Snake. Even Insects.

But she had made a plan.  She was thankful the animals knew nothing of cooking.  She had squirreled away enough poisons to put her into a deep sleep.  A sleep they’d think was death.  She knew these men would mourn her. She knew it’d be something elaborate…and when they weren’t looking, she’d wake and rob them blind.

You see, there was one time in which the animals weren’t there.  At least, not close. An old woman came by each day selling apples.  Upon the first sign of her, the animals fled.  The men had said she was a witch.  That she could be her step mother in disguise.  She sneered.  That woman sat on her tuffet in the palace having servants do everything for her.  She wasn’t suddenly going to plan an elaborate disguise and stalk the forest on mere happenstance that she might run into her wayward charge.

But only she knew that.

The animals scampered.  A doe stayed a little longer than the others.  Staring up at her as if knowing that today was different.  As if begging that she not open the door. That she not carry out the plan.  She scowled, “you know, a venison stew might be nice.”

The white tail flitted out the window as a knock on the front door came.

For the first time in seven months, she answered it.  The old woman seemed surprised, but held out an apple.

“Oh my! I couldn’t,” the girl fluttered her eyes at the grizzled hag, “I haven’t any money to pay…”

The hag flashed a yellow smile full of holes, “Ah, m’dear.  This first one, then, will be free.” She dropped it in the girl’s open hands and turned to leave.

“Oh! Thank you! Thank you!”  The girl stepped on her foot so as to bring tears to her eyes, “This is the kindest thing—

“A warning dear; there are consequences to everything…even the most inconsequential actions.” She smiled, and walked further down the path cackling or humming, the girl didn’t know nor care.

She only had a few seconds to retrieve the vial and empty its contents into her throat and throw the thing down the well. She struggled to see straight, panicking, remembering she hadn’t bitten the apple for the illusion to be complete.  As it touched her lips, everything went black.

***

She was bored. She could hear them crying around her. She would have to wait until they stopped keeping vigil. And just like that, crying turned into murmuring.  

Had they seen her breath?  Did they know?

She could feel someone hovering over her. She held her breath.

Pressure on her lips, warm breath coming in…

She opened her eyes, as was expected. The little men cheered, shouting something about the witch being dead, whatever that meant. She looked doe-eyed at the man that had ‘saved’ her.  Smiling as expected. Throwing her arms around the man so he could carry her away from the pile of priceless gems that had been stacked around her to work horse on the path. Just another setback. Just a minor complication.

The Beast had died long ago.

It was funny, really. Whether he had been man at one time, the isolation had in the end killed him.  No one to check up on the man in the castle who had gotten caught behind a locked door. She shook her head, checking over her shoulder.

No one had followed.

Not that anyone ever did…and not like she wasn’t prepared.

The Beast had died and left his castle to be reclaimed.  She had decided that she would deny nature what it wanted a small while longer and she would reclaim it. Sell pieces of it.  And take from the terrifying room of taxidermied things skins suitable to feed the fantasy of the Beast.

Lumbering through the woods at night she was the Beast, stealing and selling off valuables, adding to her library and the Beast’s infamy.

By day, she was the girl everyone wanted.  The girl so beautiful that they would overlook her quiet ways.  Her awkwardness and non-talkative nature.  Each promised her adventure away from the books her nose was always in. Everyone wanted to take care of the frail woman who seemed to need to sleep for long stretches during day and night.

She would let them keep their delusions.  She needed no one to take care of her, other than the Beast.