An Invitation to the Castle

My hands trembled as I attempted to arrange my hair. Although I'd never considered my attire to be hideous, my dress suddenly seemed too plain. Never before had I been summoned to a castle.

"Dépêche-toi!" Maman nervously whisked me out the door. "You mustn't keep Their Majesties waiting!"

"Be home before dark!" Papa reminded me. "The wolves in that area of forest are the most dangerous in Europe! Their cunning is equal to human intelligence, and their relentless nature is second to none. They're hostile as rabid creatures, and they have no fear of humans, or anything else. Remember the one that nearly killed your uncle!"

I nodded, recalling the wolf that used to steal livestock on Oncle Marcel's farm. My oncle had once fired his gun, causing the wolf to fall as it carried away one of his sheep. Pleased at his triumph over his enemy, who had previously stolen countless pigs and cattle, Oncle Marcel had walked over to the wolf and kicked its ribs as hard as he could.

"Now let's see you murder any more of my livestock, voyou!" he exclaimed proudly.

As if in response, the wolf had suddenly risen to its feet, placing its forepaws on my uncle's shoulders before he had time to react. What happened next is still unclear. Oncle Marcel says the wolf used one of its forepaws to tap him on the back gently, moving its head briefly as if giving a respectful nod, as if it wanted to thank him for providing food for it and apologize for its theft before vanishing into the forest with the sheep it had murdered. Papa says both gestures are human; wolves would never do such a thing, so Oncle Marcel just imagined that was what happened. My uncle swears that wolf was a ghost or something of the like. His bullet had only grazed its shoulder, and when he later sent an arrow between the wolf's ribs, the animal had recovered after the arrow mysteriously vanished. Even the wolfhounds had little to no effect in deterring the wolf's attacks on the livestock. Papa insists that Oncle Marcel was either imagining things or else he exaggerates.

"If you believed the wolf was so dangerous, why did you kick it?" Papa always asks.

"I thought it was dead!" Oncle Marcel answers. "I thought I was kicking a dead wolf! How was I supposed to know it was still alive? It was too dark to see whether or not it was still breathing!"

One day, for no apparent reason, the marauding ended. The wolf stopped coming to my uncle's farm. It's been years since he's seen it. To this day, he's never figured out what happened to it.

However, my parents always insist that I be careful. I must never walk through the forest before dawn or after dusk, and when we visit my uncle, I must never tend his livestock alone.

Even though the wolves are so vicious, I'm more afraid of the Beast. A few years ago, Gaston rallied the men of our village to lay siege to a castle where a hideous monster lived. Papa joined the others in an effort to protect our village, but when he returned, he talked about a bewitched place where the furniture itself could become deadly. Oncle Marcel always scoffs and says Papa must have been ivre that night, but Papa couldn't have been; he never drinks. All I know is that many of the other men who attacked the castle had similar stories, and most had bruises. As for Gaston, he never returned.

These troubling thoughts raced through my mind as I came to a crossroads in the forest. The path I was to follow looked very much like the one Papa described as leading to the Beast's castle.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," a voice greeted.

I turned to see five men staring at me.

"Their Majesties have ordered us to escort you to the castle," one explained. "You needn't be alarmed. We are the caretakers of the royal forest. It's our job to make sure Their Majesties' guests don't lose their way in the woods."

I followed them to the castle, becoming more nervous by the moment.

"What is the proper protocol for meeting the king?" I asked.

One of the men shrugged. "Nothing too special. Just be respectful and don't stare at the scars on his right arm."

Before I could ask what he meant, I was escorted to the West Wing of the castle. One of the king's servants was waiting at the door.

"His Majesty has been expecting you," he informed me, dismissing the other five men with a nod.

The door opened, and King Adam himself stepped out. "Cogsworth, who is it?"

Remembering my manners, I curtsied. "Mon seigneur."

"Are you Elise?" he asked kindly.

"Oui, Votre Majesté," I replied.

"Come." He lightly placed a hand on my shoulder. "I have something to discuss with you."

I followed him through the door, taking a seat in the chair he indicated. I was surprised to see Belle again, but this time, she was not the peasant who wandered through the streets of town, singing on her way to the bookshop. I had often seen her standing on the back of a cart, and a few times, I had wished her and the driver a good day. However, when I saw her now, she was my queen.

She smiled politely. "Adam thought perhaps the royal tailors and seamstresses could use a bit of help. I recommended you because you always were the best dressmaker in the village."

"You are not required to be of service," King Adam continued, "but if you do offer your assistance, I'll see you well paid. You're welcome to stay at the castle for a while if you'd like, but you're also welcome to return home whenever you wish. You may work for an hour or work all day, whichever would suit you better."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Lowering my head respectfully, I replied that I would be honored to help the servants.

"That's wonderful!" Queen Belle responded. "When can you start?"

"Demain," I answered. "My parents insist that I return home before dark, lest the wolves attack me."

King Adam nodded. "I respect the wishes of your parents, but there's no need to fear the wolves anymore." He pushed up his right sleeve, revealing hideous scars of what must have been serious injuries. "I took care of the problem."

I arrived home shortly before dusk. My parents were surprised to hear that I would be working with King Adam's servants, but they agreed that this was a great honor for me. However, none of us could figure out how His Majesty had survived a wolf attack or what he had meant by saying he had taken care of the problem.