Rose Daughter by Robin Mckinley

Author:Robin Mckinley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Her dress that evening was dark green, with long close-fining sleeves buttoned with many tiny

buttons, and a high neck, and round it went a wide necklet of great square emeralds, each as large as the

palm of a child’s hand. There were emerald drops for her ears that were so heavy she was not sure she

could wear them all evening; when she had put them on and turned her head, the tiny spray of opals and

peridots that hung below the emeralds brushed her shoulders. There were two heavy emerald wristlets

whose clasps closed with small substantial snicks like the locks of treasure vaults; her shoes were so stiff

with the gems sewn closely all over them she could barely bend her feet. When she leant down to pick up

a dark green bath towel and hang it over the back of a chair she creaked. “All T need is—let’s see—a

tiara, and perhaps a cape, sewn all over to match the shoes, and I will be too ponderous to move,” she

said, “and you will have to send a coach and four to transport me to the dining-hall.”

There was a sudden wild sibilancc from inside the wardrobe, and she started. “That was a joke!” she

said hastily; her voice had gone all high and thin. She turned and half ran—tittupping in her unyielding

shoes—through her rooms to the chamber of the star; there her shoes made a dramatic, resonant clatter,

as if the coach and four were there, waiting for her, invisible but not inaudible.

“Oh dear!” she said. “No more jokes!” She ran across the slar and through the door that opened for

her, and at once her shoes were muffled by carpeting. “Maybe that is the trouble with this place,” she

said. “No sense of humour.” But her words were muffled even as her shoes were, and she began to feel

her spirits muffled too; and she went on silently to the dining-hall. where the Beast silently waited.

She sat down, tasted the wine the Beast had poured for her, and resolutely began to eat. She was

not going to miss any more dinners. The shadows that were the Beast caught at the comer of her vision.

She only knew he was there because she had seen him sit down; he sal as still as some great predator

waiting for his prey. The tinkle of her cutlery hid the sound of his breathing, as the mutter of dry leaves

underfoot might hide the hunter’s. She tried to recall the mood of the morning. “Do you go every day to

the orchard?” she said.

“Yes. I spend much of each day there. Nights I spend on the roof.”

Beauty said, astonished, “But when do you sleep? And does not the weather trouble you?’’

“I do not steep much. And the weather troubles me little... in this shape. It is harder on my suits of

clothing. The magic can turn the weather too, when it chooses. I prefer it to come as it will; mostly I have

my way in this.” The Beast looked at her. “in the winter, occasionally, sanctuary is provided to some

traveller.

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