Beauty: A Retelling of the Story of Beauty and the Beast

“We can’t spare you, child,” said Father. “Mmph,” I said. “We can’t spare you.”

“You will leave tomorrow morning?” His voice was a little unsteady. I looked up at him, around at all of them. “I must. I’m sorry. Please try to understand. I promised.” Father tried to smile, but didn’t quite manage it. “You were well named,” he said.

I opened the window and leaned out, and to my exquisite delight found that the whole side of the house was covered with roses in full bloom; and I could see bright flowers leaning against the shop and stable walls. “Thank you,” I whispered to no one.

He dismounted slowly and stared around a minute longer; then he straightened his shoulders and led his horse inside, as if empty enchanted castles were a commonplace.

“It’s said there’s a castle in a wild garden at the center of these woods; and if you ever walk into the trees till you are out of sight of the edge of the forest and you can see nothing but big dark trees all around you, you will be drawn to that castle; and in the castle there lives a monster. He was a man once, some tales say, and was turned int

My intellectual abilities gave me a release, and an excuse. I shunned company because I preferred books;

Even the canary came through the winter in good health and spirits. He was a very useful bird, because he gave Grace and Hope and me something weaker than ourselves to worry over; and he sang as though he appreciated it.

“I—er—I hope you weren’t misled by my foolish nickname,” I said. What if he was angry at being cheated of Beauty, and killed me for tricking him? “Misled?” he said. “No. I think your name suits you very well.” “Oh no,” I said. It was my turn for the tone of convincing horror. “I assure you I am very plain.”

“Are you sure you’re not making it all up to scare me into obedience? It won’t work, you know; it’ll only make me mad.” He grinned. “Oh, I’m aware of your temper, Beauty, you needn’t fear.