Beauty and Her Beast

Anna ran out of the house as quickly as possible, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was always the same; anger, violence, and shouting. Never love or comfort, nothing that could ever be mistaken as love.

She hurriedly groomed the horse, marveling at the richness of the saddles leather and craftsmanship, and set out his food and water. Then, before she could catch her breath she was off to find her sister.

Running on the cobbles of the road hurt her feet through the holes in her shoes, but she dare not take too long in finding them. Papa would get angrier every second she was gone.

She found them in the market as she expected, Teresa was being indiscreet with the baker’s boy in exchange for a taste of the new sweet roll and Erica was singing a bawdy song with a group of travelers, taking coins from passersby. Anna took each in hand and began to pull them home.

“Papa is home,” she panted as her sisters struggled against her, “and he wants us.”

Upon hearing this, they no longer fought to stay, it was more of a fight to be the first home. They knew that the last one through the door would receive a switch to her back of the leg. This was a race Anna knew well, and despite the fact that she was the better runner, she was almost always last. It wasn’t that she couldn’t beat them or didn’t try, it was the fact that she did most of the work around the house, and that she had already run so far to find them.

True to form, she was the last through the door, and true to form she was thoroughly switched for it, her back criss-crossed with blooming welts.

“Now my disappointing children,” Albert said, placing his switch in its holy place beside his chair. “I have some good news for you. In three days time one of you will have a new home.”

Albert waited for his daughter’s reactions; as he expected, the simpletons just stood there with their mouths agape.

‘Stupid girls,’ he thought.

“I have decided that one of you is no longer worth my time or coin,” he said aloud. “You are to be taken into the service of Lord Christian Beauchamp. You will cook, clean, or provide any other service he and his household require.”

“But papa,” Erica pled, pointing to the overflowing bags. “With all the wealth you have brought back, surely there is no need to send any of us.”

For speaking without permission, Erica received a swift hit with the switch across her right thigh.

“Shut your mouth you stupid cow. That wealth you speak of is mine,” Albert growled rising to his feet, “and I will be damned if I waste shillings on all of you. One of you will go when the coach arrives for you three days from now.”