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“Who was at the door?” the lyrical voice called from high atop the stacked staircase. Outside a bitter, terrible wintry bluster roared, snow and ice covered the land, but the young princess cared not for such things. She lived in her palace, wrapped in silk, gold, and the finest furs, knowing only warmth and comfort.

The palace servant, a jittery man of advancing years, nervously stumbled forth to answer the Princess’ call, for he knew she would not take lightly to such a trespasser on her palace grounds.

“I-i-it’s an old woman, Majesty,” he called nervously.

“And w-w-what did she want?” the voice snapped back, its owner appearing just a moment later on the first landing, dressed in a fine silk gown of deep purple, inlaid with golden threaded flower patterns and precious pearls. Her long, golden hair lay in a perfect braid across her shoulder, beneath a lavish, jewel-encrusted tiara.

The old crone, by contrast, stood huddled by the door. Even from the distance, the princess could see bare skin quivering beneath the holes in her rags. She immediately turned up her nose as she descended the stairs.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting! What do you want, hag, and be quick before you dirty up my floors any further!”

The old woman’s form shrank back further at the spoiled girl’s approach.

“I ask only shelter for the night, Majesty. A place in the stables, perhaps. I would not dare to offend your senses further with my presence.”

“But you would dare to offend my horses instead,” the girl answered with as much cruelty and bile as she could summon, which any palace servant would attest is quite a bit.

“You should be wary, child, for appearances can be deceiving.”

The princess glared angrily at the crone. She strode closer now, raising her hand to strike.

At once, a brilliant light filled the entire room with such a terrible glow that it blinded the Princess. She shrieked as she shielded her eyes and turned away. The palace servant, too frightened of what the spoiled princess had unleashed, fled in terror without looking back.

When the light had subsided, an impossibly beautiful woman of indeterminate age now stood. Clad in a gown that looked, to the Princess’ eyes, to be of pure, solid gold, the Princess stared enviously at her new guest for only a moment before a broad smile crossed her lips.

“You should not play such silly tricks on a Princess. But now that I see who you truly are, please come in and warm yourself. You shall have my finest guest bedroom tonight!” She clapped her hands together, but no servant came.

The woman smiled, but the palpable malice behind the expression struck a chill down the Princess’ spine. She extended her hand, revealing golden jewelry, and a perfectly manicured finger which she pointed at the Princess.

“You wear the face of one on the cusp of adulthood, and yet you are but a petulant child, weak, spoiled. You see only that which is on the surface. It is just as I had feared. You are not worthy to bear that crown.”

“What? How dare you!” the princess tried to protest.

“You are sixteen years old today. If by the end of your twenty-first birthday you have not learned to love another, and to be loved in return, I shall wipe your memory from this world and curse you to an eternity as that which you fear most.”

“And how do you propose to teach me this lesson?” the princess asked. For the first time in her life, she knew fear. It tasted bitter to her lips. She tried hard to fight back the tears that threatened to burst forth, but no man nor beast had ever challenged her, nor threatened her in such a manner.

But the Enchantress did not answer. Instead she simply smiled, turning away from the Princess, and with a blinding flash of light, she disappeared.

“Foolish wench,” the princess grumbled. “How dare she threaten me; guards!”

But no one answered.

“Guards, your Princess demands your presence!”

Again, no one answered. She turned, storming into the nearest hallway, but nearly stumbled when her gaze set upon a newly added statue within the palace. A statue which looked conspicuously like a stone guard, dressed in the official armor she had personally picked out for them to wear. She covered her mouth, backing away.

“This is a dream. It has to be a dream. That’s right!” she laughed nervously, now sprinting upstairs. “Therefore,” she continued, ignoring the stone maid that precariously perched on the balcony, as though eavesdropping, “If I go to sleep here, I shall wake up and all will be as it should!”

Unceremoniously, the Princess disrobed. A strange sensation began to develop within her body. It felt as if she had an itch inside her that she simply could not scratch. She ignored it though, dressing in her finest silk sleeping gown. She fumbled with the material, finding it difficult to dress herself, but her dressing attendant stood still and silent as the grave outside her bedroom door, no help whatsoever to her now.

She threw back the covers and dove recklessly into the large canopy bed, tugging the covers high over her head, but it was a restless, sleepless night. She tossed, turned, and squirmed, trying vainly to ignore the feelings developing inside her, and when sleep did come, it was only to torture her more, presenting terrible images of her attendants throughout the castle as the stonework she now saw them as.

At dawn’s first light, she awoke. She did not feel the weight of her hair as she sat up, and her body somehow felt heavier. Her sleeping gown had been shredded in the night, as though someone had tried to put the garment on a raging bull. She laughed at the ridiculous notion, but cut it short when the tone that came out was not her lilted, lyrical giggle, but a deep baritone belly guffaw.

She covered her mouth, only to throw her hands away. Her delicate fingers had been replaced by massive, disgusting globs of meat and flesh. She shrieked, insomuch as the new voice would allow, leaping from the bed.

Always, the Princess kept a full length mirror beside her bed, so that the first thing she saw in the morning was her own radiant beauty. Now, instead, a strapping young lad of about fifteen or sixteen bore a look of abject horror etched seemingly permanently across his features, back at her. She shut her eyes tightly, but when she looked again, the lad still stood there. She yelled out, cursed, and smashed the mirror to pieces.

~oOo~

Sobbing bitterly, covered only by the shreds of cloth that managed to cling to her new form, the Princess sank to her knees. “Why?” she cried out, although it came as a low growl.

A subtle light began to grow from a corner of the room. No window existed there, and besides which, it was in the southwest, while the sun had only begun to pour in through the east. The sound of shoes stepping softly, slowly drew nearer to the crumpled mass of human flesh on the floor.

The Princess dared not to look at her tormentor, refusing to give her the satisfaction.

“Come to gloat,” she sobbed, a mix of both anger and hatred.

But the woman’s response came as gently as a mother’s might.

“I am not here to gloat, child. I have come to check on you, to see how you like your new form.”

The Princess hissed angrily. “Like?! You turned me into a man, you hag! Why did you do this?!”

“I told you last night, it’s to teach you a lesson. I know that it hurts now,” she knelt, and with hardly any effort, for the Princess chose not to resist, the Enchantress cupped her face in her delicate hands, letting their eyes meet. She smiled. “But if you can learn from this, then your kingdom will grow and prosper. This, I swear.”

“And if I don’t?”

The Enchantress frowned sadly, a harsh contrast to the maliciousness she had shown merely hours before. “If you don’t, then you will remain in this form. I told you that last night. Were you not listening?” She breathed an exasperated sigh.

“Stop it! I don’t WANT to learn. I don’t NEED your stupid lessons or your magic. You’re a monster! I had everything I ever wanted already, and my kingdom has been just fine without your meddling!”

“Was it? Loyalty to your family name has dwindled since the passing of your father. Whispers of war in other lands drawing away young men who thirst for adventure leave fields to lay fallow. Old hands still work the crops, but for how much longer? Your realm is dying, child, because of your cursed vanity. There is one other stipulation I forgot to mention, by the way.”

“What else could you possibly do to me that you haven’t already?” the princess answered. By now, despair and hate had given way to acceptance and hopelessness.

“You are not allowed to cut your hair or your nails, and that includes your beard.”

“My … beard?” she answered, reaching a hand up to touch her own face. The thought of facial hair had not even crossed her mind yet, in her despair.

The Enchantress nodded. “And just so you get no ideas about trying to huddle here until the Day of Judgment, you are banished from these grounds. I will keep your servants safely here and under my spell. Indeed, the entire kingdom sleeps, awaiting the day their Princess returns. You see,” she paused to stand, offering the transformed princess her hand, “If you fail, then your kingdom will stand forgotten to all time, just as it would have.”

“But how am I to survive like this? I know nothing of how to take care of myself! And you say I’ll be even uglier! People will throw things, or worse!”

“Neither man nor beast shall lay a hand on you. I will give you my blessed protection from their blades, but you shall suffer their malice, ‘tis true.”

The Enchantress knelt, taking the Princess’ hand now, and pulling her to her feet.

“And what will I wear? I have nothing that would fit this ugly form.”

“You will wear this,” the Enchantress answered. As if retrieving something from an unseen wardrobe or closet, the Enchantress plucked from the ether, a bear-skin shawl, a pair of woodsman’s trousers and tunic, and a heavy pair of boots. She spun around once, holding in her hands as she turned to face the princess again, a simple leather pouch which she dropped at her feet.

“Whenever you reach into this pouch, you will always find the exact amount of gold you require to buy food and lodgings, wherever your travels take you. That is, assuming you can find lodgings that will take you.” The Enchantress’ smile had taken on that malice it had the night prior. The Princess recoiled, frightened.

“You must tell no one of this, or the curse will never be lifted. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes,” she answered, choking back a sob. “But if I am a princess no more, who… what am I to be called?”

“Indeed, you are Arianna no more. I believe ‘Bear’ is a fitting name for your new form. Yes, Bear shall do nicely,” she cackled as she threw back her head. Arianna, now Bear, cringed, but when she looked again, the Enchantress was gone. She breathed a slow, sad sigh.

“This is unbearable,” she muttered, collapsing onto her bed and sobbing.

A disembodied voice echoed through the chamber. “Do hurry up. I will escort you out of the castle, whether or not you are dressed, within the hour.”

Bear jolted from her bed and into her clothes. She packed nothing else of her old belongings. After all, she had been disallowed from telling others of her curse, and could give no other conceivable reason for carrying such fineries with her. They would only remind her of the world she had lost, anyway.

What else had the Enchantress said, though? She must learn to love another, and be loved in return? But what man could ever love her in this form?

Tears stung her eyes as she looked upon the silent façade of her former home from outside its mighty walls. A chill wind gusted past, forcing her to pull her bear skin shawl more tightly about herself. She exhaled slowly, turning to trudge down the path where she once rode a magnificent white horse in Springs past.

~oOo~

And so it was that Bear made her way into the world. Dressed like a common woodcutter or mountain-dweller, and forced to let her appearance bedraggle, at first she vowed not to allow her curse to ruin her, but as more and more innkeepers closed their doors to her, insisting she need to move on, mistreatment and hatred, both of herself and others, began to take hold. She had lost the only thing that mattered to her in her beauty, and she began to take it out on the rest of the world.

Rather than ordering her meals, for example, she would demand them. She began to find more gold in her pouch than she needed to pay for her room and board, but always, she let those extra coins lay unused, not realizing why they would be there in the first place. When her pouch became too heavy from the excess money, she would go out into the woods somewhere and fling them into a ditch, or off a cliff, into a well, it didn’t matter, so long as she was rid of them.

Two years passed, and rumors had already begun to fade of what became of her old kingdom. Talk of the war abroad had taken over the local gossip, but Bear didn’t care. She ignored them, sitting alone in her corner, trying to drown her sorrows in whatever specialty spirit the tavern had on-hand, waiting to be thrown out.

One especially bitter night, when the local customers had all returned to their homes, she could hear someone shouting. It was the innkeeper and his daughter, arguing her fate. The innkeeper insisted that Bear, now beginning to live up to her namesake after these past two years, had overstayed her welcome.

Of course she had done nothing truly terrible. She merely frightened children and old women with her glower, and a display of her magical protection scared one drunk too foolish to leave her be from ever returning. None of that mattered. “He” was costing the tavern money. One boarder scaring off the rest was bad for business.

Bear watched in silent, semi-sober amusement as the girl raced out of the room from which the arguing had come. The innkeeper, a portly middle-aged man with entirely too little hair on top, began to approach. Bear stood to her full six feet, staring down at the innkeeper. The portly man flinched, but Bear shook her head. She flung a handful of coins at his feet, shoved him aside, and plodded out into the night.

“Please wait!” the innkeeper’s daughter called out. Bear gave a disgusted grunt and refused to look at her as she raced closer, trying to catch up.

“Go back girl,” she growled. “Leave me in peace.”

“But where will you stay? It’s too cold already, and there are whispers of bad omens that a blizzard might strike.”

“I said leave me be!” she shouted, pulling her hand away as the girl tried to reach for it. The innkeeper’s daughter, startled by the sudden motion, tripped and fell, her face striking a stone.

“Did you see that?” one man shouted. “That monster just attacked that poor girl!”

As the man raced off to heaven knew where, though probably to rally an angry mob against her, Bear sighed.

“You stupid fool. I told you to leave me be.” She exhaled as the girl sobbed, cupping her bleeding face. Bear knelt down to scoop her up, carefully carrying her back to the inn.

“What in heaven’s name did you do to her?!” the innkeeper shouted. Bear said nothing, instead setting her down by the fire. She reached into her pouch, for the first time taking everything she found there. She dropped it into the girl’s lap.

“The stone she fell against was buried deep in the snow, or it would have been worse. Take the money and get your village doctor here straightaway.”

The dumbfounded innkeeper stared in silence as Bear turned to leave. Outside, the angry man from before stood with a group of villagers, though most were simply standing off to one side, watching as he vainly argued with a little old woman.

“Mother Maitia, your eyes are old and feeble. You cannot possibly tell me you saw the girl fall! I watched him push her!”

“And I am telling you, dear Marcus, that looks can be deceiving.”

Bear froze in her tracks at those words.

“I can prove to you that he did not lay a hand on her.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” he balked, generating a deep chorus of laughter from the men in the crowd. She approached Bear, taking her by the hand.

“Come along, dearie. I need your help for this.”

Bear started to recoil, but something about the old woman’s gentle nature set her mind strangely at ease for the first time in years. She hesitantly nodded, following the old woman. The crowd of onlookers, defiantly led by the loud-mouth, came in a great procession behind them, to the place where the girl had fallen, meanwhile the village’s doctor shoved his way through to get to his patient.

“There, you see. Gunther, you’re an expert tracker aren’t you?”

A broad-shouldered man with a short, black ponytail laughed as he stepped forward. “Aye, Mother Matia, I could track a flea ‘cross a forest, I could.”

“So look at these tracks. There, this young man’s, and there, the girl’s. What do you see?”

“Well.” He stepped forward to kneel. His gaze carefully set upon each footprint and for several seconds, he knelt, staring. It seemed the longer he stared, the less sure he became.

“Here, this is where she was standing when she fell of course, but if he shoved her down, then there woulda been a more aggressive footprint here. This looks more like he was pulling away from her.”

He scowled at the boisterous man. “You pulled us from our beds just to tell us that the innkeeper’s daughter slipped on some ice? I ought to run you out of the village myself, you blockheaded fool!”

Angry grumblings from the villagers followed as the crowd slowly dispersed. Marcus stayed behind until the end, though his attitude seemed vastly more subdued. The old crone quietly returned to her one room cottage, and Bear, shaking her head, began her journey anew, or so she thought.

“I’m sorry,” the man called hesitantly. “It’s not easy to say, but I figure, if the rumors are true and you are some sort of enchanter, it’s best not to be havin’ that kind of enemy without due cause.”

“What did you say?” Bear asked as she spun about to face the man. He held up his hands defensively.

“Well it’s just, you show up in town dressed like a Wildman, yet you got more than enough gold to get by with, and I saw what happened to old William when he got too close and took a swing at you. Everyone’s spooked to have you around, and then when I saw Karrick’s daughter go down, I just thought…”

“You thought I struck her,” Bear concluded neutrally and quite unceremoniously. It was hardly the first time such accusations were lobbed at her, though usually rotten fruit accompanied it.

“I’m no enchanter,” she answered softly. Without giving further explanation though, she continued into the night.

~oOo~

The sun shone brightly down on Bear the next morning, despite warnings of a blizzard. She hadn’t the time, nor the light of day to find her next bed, so instead had hunkered down in the hollow of a rotted out old tree. Something felt strange inside her, though. The calm she felt when the old crone took her hand remained this morning, and she felt ten pounds lighter.

She stood to dust herself off and quietly walked down to the edge of the main road. She looked first north, toward the village she had abandoned not a mile away, then south toward what fate might have in store for her. Regardless what evidence, and one witness, had suggested though, the girl’s fall was partly her fault. Had she not jerked away her hand, it would never have happened. What would it hurt to see how she’s feeling before hitting the road again?

She arrived back in the tiny village to find all as quiet as expected. With the dead of winter upon them, there were no fields to tend, and only limited livestock to look after. Winter was a time of resting for the sleepy little village, a time to wait out the bitter cold and prepare for the Spring planting.

The door to the inn stood wide open, and as she drew closer, Bear discovered why the hard way, for around that blind corner, a mighty cloud of dust was swept up, right into her face. She coughed and sputtered, backing away to dust herself off, followed quickly by a soft and apologetic voice.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she cooed. She dared not to approach the large “man” a second time, having learned that lesson the night prior, but she still gave her best apologetic smile, even despite the heavy poultice bandaged against her face. “I secretly hoped you might return so that I could thank you properly.”

Bear slowly shook her head, keeping a healthy distance from the girl. “How are you feeling?”

“Better thanks to your generosity sir,” she answered, batting her big brown eyes innocently. “The doctor was concerned about how he would replace the herbs he needed to use on me, until I presented him with the money you gave to me. He said he could replenish his stock ten times over the very next time a trader passes through!”

Hints of a smile tugged at Bear’s lips, though she could not explain nor fathom why. The enthusiasm exuding from this girl, barely at the cusp of womanhood, reminded her somehow of herself, once upon a time, yet her happiness seemed more genuine, more pure. Bear envied her, not just because of her beauty, but because she didn’t seem to care that Bear had marred her beauty so.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, rousing Bear from her contemplation.

“It’s nothing,” she answered simply. “I am glad you’re better. I hope you make a full recovery soon.”

“Wait, where are you going?” she called after Bear.

Bear stopped, but refused to look back at her, lowering her head instead. “I do not belong here. I do not ‘belong’ anywhere. I must keep moving.”

The girl slowly approached. When she reached for Bear’s hand, the large form did not recoil this time. She walked slowly around, reaching out to touch Bear’s cheek.

“There’s such a terrible sadness in your eyes. Why don’t you stay at least another day? The entire village knows what you’ve done for me already. You could belong here.”

Bear shut her eyes tightly. “No. You don’t understand. This isn’t… this isn’t my home. This isn’t where I belong. I have to find… Have to find…”

Bear found herself unable to complete the sentence. For what man could love such a hideous beast as she had become? She sidestepped the girl, but found herself unable to continue. She cast her gaze back to see that the girl still held fast to her hand, callused and filthy as it was. The girl smiled back at her.

“Just stay for a day, and see what the weather will do.”

“I don’t belong-”

“I know, you don’t belong here,” the girl echoed. “But I want to know where you do belong.”

Bear gave a heaved sigh as she shook her head. “I cannot tell you that either. I have no hope of returning there so it does not matter. No one could love a beast like me.”

“You’re wrong,” the girl answered more softly now.

“Don’t say it,” Bear answered. “You, most of all, can’t love me. You’d regret it for the rest of your life, I swear it.”

Her words were not a malicious, hateful warning as they might suggest though. They were genuine fear for this poor girl’s safety. If she were to fall in love with Bear in this form, and that love were returned, then the curse would be lifted, but what kind of love would they share after?

“I’m sorry.” Bear spoke gently as she placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “But for your own sake, forget about me. Marry Marcus or Gunther, or one of the other men of this village, raise fat babies, and live happily.”

“Gunther’s married, and Marcus is to be wed in the spring. There are no men in this village. The young men all left to fight in the wars, and from the rumors, I fear there will be none left before that stupid war’s concluded. There may not even be anything left of these lands.”

For the first time, the girl’s tone took on a sadness that Bear had never heard from her, yet it echoed true within herself. Though their circumstances were different, she had found a kindred spirit. She exhaled slowly.

“Alright, I’ll stay, but ONLY for a day. And I stand by what I said, that you should forget about me when I leave.”

“Oh, thank you!” she answered as she threw her arms around Bear. Though she flinched after kissing her cheek, it was largely because her poultice had shifted in her excitement.

Bear gave the girl a weary smile, too tired to fight back after sleeping only a few hours in the frigid cold. She followed the girl slowly back inside.

“By the way, what is your name?”

“I am called Bear,” Bear answered simply. “My old name isn’t important anymore.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I’m Rose. You know my father Karrick, and my mother Arabella. Can I get you something to eat? I bet you know some great recipes from your travels, too!”

“I never learned to cook,” Bear mumbled sheepishly.

Rose gave her new friend a peculiar stare. “Most woodsmen at least know how to cook their own fish or wild boar, or whatever it is they can catch. Come into the kitchen, and I’ll teach you a thing or two. The next village is three days’ walk from here, so you’ll need to know at least how to cook a rabbit if you’re to make it without starving.”

~oOo~

After a thorough hand-scrubbing at Rose’s direction, Bear removed her heavy fur shawl for the first time in awhile to exchange for a cooking apron. She stayed mostly out of the way, watching Rose work, though at one point the girl insisted Bear help out too, or she’d never learn anything.

“May I ask you something, Mr. Bear?”

“Just Bear. No ‘Mister’, please,” Bear answered. Even after two long years, she hated being referred to as a man. She hated everything about being a man, from the awkward smells to the nervous stares, but she had learned not so much to accept, but to tolerate her fate.

“Okay, Bear then,” Rose answered. The inn had only a simple, brick oven, though it opened wide enough to easily facilitate the kinds of baking the typical customer asked for here. “Why do you let your hair and beard, and your fingernails grow so long? If you’ll forgive me, you really do look like a Bear,” she giggled.

Bear flinched at being reminded of her hideous outward appearance. She closed her eyes as she thought back to how this whole mess began, and she exhaled.

“I made a vow never to speak of the exact details. It is a punishment, of sorts. I shunned someone in need of help, and was cursed with this form in return. More than that, I can’t tell you, if I ever hope to lift my curse.”

The sound of a bread pan clattering noisily against the stone floor drew Bear’s attention. Rose stared in awkward, stunned silence. “That’s awful!”

“I know. I am a terrible person,” Bear exhaled. But Rose quickly shook her head.

“No, that someone would do that to you. No matter how terrible your actions, you didn’t deserve to just lose everything like that.”

“How did you know I lost everything?” Bear asked, taking a step back as she warily eyed the girl.

Rose lifted her shoulders into a gentle shrug as she stared at the ground. “You talk in your sleep. I could hear you in the hallway. Besides, you told me before that you don’t belong anywhere.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose tried to offer. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that you seem so… so like me. I thought perhaps if we spent some time talking, that I could convince you to stay. I’m so alone here.”

Bear shook her head. “No, Rose. You can’t. You mustn’t.”

“But why?”

Rose stepped closer. Bear matched her steps, keeping their distance.

“Rose, do you not see? This path is too dangerous for you. I hurt you once already. I can’t let you get hurt again.”

“You said ‘can’t’,” Rose giggled. Bear stared blankly back at her. “You said ‘can’t’, and not ‘won’t’. You DO care about me don’t you?”

Bear sighed, defeated. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell you. You have to trust me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed.”

Rose heaved a heavy sigh, blowing her bangs from her face in the process. “If it doesn’t matter, then why can’t you tell me the truth?”

“Because if I do, then I’ll remain like this forever. I have until my twenty-first birthday to find a man to love me as I am. Do you know how slim those odds are?”

Bear wanted to cry. For two years she built up a tough outer exterior to match the physical one she had been cursed with, but all at once Rose had brought it crashing down. A nearby stool creaked under Bear’s weight as she collapsed upon it.

Rose stepped closer, kneeling in front of her.

“Why must it be a man?”

“Because, I… that’s… I mean…” she fumbled. Rose stood and bent down to kiss her.

Bear stared, stunned as Rose stood once more, and Bear stood to her full height, wrapping her arms around Rose. She had to bend down to cry on Rose’s shoulder, but in that instance she let out two years of pent-up frustration. Rose simply held her, ignoring for now the scent of burning bread close by.

“Please stay with me,” Rose whispered softly.

Bear shook her head slowly. “You will hate me if you are the one to lift my terrible curse.”

“No, I won’t. I never believed in love at first sight, and I never thought I would fall in love with someone who looks so … unusual, but I do love you.”

“Then… I’ll tell you the truth. You deserve that much.”

“Wait, Bear, if you do that won’t you remain like this?”

Bear gave a sad nod. “Yes, but Rose, I love you as well, but it’s a sacrifice I have to make, otherwise I’ll only break your heart.”

Rose tried to protest, but Bear simply placed her large hand over the girl’s lips to silence her. She bade Rose sit while she retrieved the toasted bread from the simple brick oven.

She began to relate to Rose her long tale. She regaled her of palace life, of her life as a Princess in a faraway kingdom, and how the people now slumber there. When she finished, she gave a sad sigh.

“Perhaps, if I beg, the Enchantress will at least release my people from the curse. They did nothing to deserve their fate, and they should not be included in my punishment.”

“I suppose since we’re being honest, that I should tell you the truth as well.” Rose flinched as she lowered her gaze. “I wasn’t always ‘Rose’ either. My father turned away such a crone as you described. Only it wasn’t he who carried the punishment, but me. We left our home and traveled here to start a new life. I gave up long ago on lifting the curse, but this is why I argued so vehemently with my father before, about throwing you out. I was afraid history would repeat itself.”

Bear nodded sadly, but before she could speak, a faint and very subtle golden glow began to develop in the corner of the room. Its brightness increased steadily until it blinded the two, and the Enchantress’ voice spoke in a caring tone.

“Finally, you understand.”

“W-what are you doing here?” Rose stammered, still shielding her eyes, and afraid to look. A gentle hand on hers pulled her arm away, revealing to her both the ageless Enchantress, and a young woman no more than a year or two older than herself, dressed not in the ragged, filthy woodcutters’ garb, but a long, deep purple gown. Even without her tiara, she looked every bit the regal she admitted to being moments before.

“I am so very proud of you both. I knew you could do it.”

“What are you talking about? I broke my promise by telling her.”

“Yes, you did, but you did so for the right reasons. You were ready to sacrifice everything to avoid breaking her heart. You learned to love another for the right reasons, and she you.”

The Enchantress now turned to Rose, placing her hands on her shoulders. “So, now comes the time for you to decide. Do you wish to remain as Rose, or do you choose to return to that which you once were?”

Rose turned to stare at the Princess. “Can you love me like this?” she asked softly. “Even knowing we can never ... I can never give you an heir?”

The Princess laughed softly as she stepped closer. “I already do love you. I don’t care what you look like. You freed me, and you showed me that there is so much more to life than simple appearances.”

Rose smiled fondly as she turned to the Enchantress. “Then, I make my decision, and a humble request.”

The Enchantress stepped back, a knowing smile on her lips. “Then make your wish known.”

“I want to remain as Rose, but … I want to bear a son for my future Queen as well, so that someone will carry on the lessons you’ve taught us, to rule when our bones turn to dust.”

“Are you certain this is what you want?” Though the Enchantress’ tone remained neutral, her expression revealed hesitance and uncertainty. That may well have just been part of the ‘game’, however.

Rose immediately nodded. “She was ready to give up everything to be with me. I’ve lived over half my life in this form, and wouldn’t know how to be a man if I tried, but if I can give her an heir in this form, I will gladly make that sacrifice.”

The Enchantress smiled proudly. She took each by the hand and pulled them into a loving embrace. “Then it shall be done.”

“What will we tell my subjects, though?” The Princess asked with a hesitant tone. Her gaze sank to the floor. “Our love is forbidden.”

“You are the rightful Queen of your kingdom, dear child. Lead and your people will follow you. My time here grows short. Arianna,” the Enchantress turned to the Princess formerly known as ‘Bear’.

“Take your old pouch. I want you to return to your home, and stop at every village you pass along the way. Reach into your pouch, and leave behind in the village coffers what you find there. Do this in the name of your kingdom, and earn back the fealty that has been lost.”

“I’ll need a horse.”

“Your faithful friend is waiting outside,” the Enchantress advised.

Rose slowly glanced between the two. “What can I do? I want to help too.”

The Enchantress turned to Rose with a cheerful smile. “Prepare your parents for the shock. They saw a Beast enter this room with you. They will not be expecting a Princess to emerge.”

~oOo~

Queen Arianna and her beloved Rose never again saw the Enchantress. In time, Rose convinced her parents to move to Arianna’s palace with them. Arianna ruled her kingdom justly and kindly, taking great care to ensure that no mouth would go unfed if she could help it, and in time, Rose was blessed with a healthy baby boy. To both their surprise, he had as much of Arianna’s appearance in him as Rose, but then, Rose did ask to bear the Queen’s heir.

In due time, Queen Arianna rallied a great army from those lands whose loyalty her Enchantress benefactor's coin had bought. Though she, herself, never rode out into battle, she trained the finest knights to set upon the foreign invaders and push them back, uniting the scattered lands abroad under her banner.

And of course, they all lived happily ever after.