Beauty and Her Beast

“Papa!!!!” Anna called her father as he rode into their yard.

Standing from scrubbing the floor, her hands chapped from scrubbing with lye soap, she ran to greet her father.

Sliding down from his saddle, Albert walked past the girl, ignoring her completely. When he reached the door, he scanned the interior of his hovel, looking for his other two worthless daughters.

“Where are your sisters?” he demanded over his shoulder.

“They have gone to the market, papa,” Anna said, taking the reins of his tired horse. “Erica wanted to see Captain Lionel before the regiment left, and Teresa went to visit the baker. He has a new sweet roll that she is very fond of.”

Albert turned to look at his youngest daughter, and thought of turning her over to the beast. Anna, with her sallow skin and limp mud colored hair. There was nothing in him, no regrets, no fear for her safety, only joy that it wasn’t himself facing that horrible creature in three days.

“Take care of my horse,” he said as he turned to enter their ramshackle home.

Anna’s shoulders sagged, her heart heavy with sadness. Just once she wished her father would be happy to see her. From the day she was born, he’d made it clear she was worthless to him, less than worthless, she was not the son he’d wanted, just a useless girl.

Soon Anna entered the house heavily laden with saddlebags on each shoulder.

“Was your trip worthwhile papa?” she asked as she put the bags on the table with a resounding thud.

Albert turned from the meager fireplace and looked at the bags. They had been empty when he had left the beast’s manor, he’d made sure of it. After the incident with the roses he dare not steal anything from such a creature, not even one fork.

Upon opening the first bag, gold and silver coins cascaded onto the table, overflowing onto the floor. The second bag contained precious gems and pearls, some in magnificent settings, others rolling freely across the table. The third and fourth bags contained lengths of silk, brocade, damask, and other fine rich fabrics Albert would have been hard pressed to name. As Anna reached out to touch a beautiful blue silk, Albert slapped her hand away.

“Don’t touch that with your filthy hands!” he snapped, lifting the silk with his own dirty ones.

Anna withdrew her hand rubbing it on her apron.

Anna worked night and day doing everything she could think of to make her father’s life easier. Over and over she tried, but nothing ever seemed to reach him. Perhaps now that his money woes were over, maybe that would change.

“Papa,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “Papa, you did it.” She smiled a congratulatory smile at him. “You did it!”

Albert just looked at her as if she were the town fool.

“Of course I’ve done it,” he said, holding up a handful of coins. “How else do you think I came across such wealth? You are such an imbecile! Go!” he yelled. “Go finish with the horse and then find your sisters!”