The Curse of the Rose

by J. A. Lynch

  ***

  The glow always caught my attention every time I walked past the North tower, yet no matter how hard I tried to get close to it, I failed. “Hülye picsák,” I swore to myself as I circled the sixty foot monstrosity in front of me, trying to figure out a way to get past the guards and destroy the one thing keeping me a captive.

  Devising a plan seemed pointless, so I just had to wing it, or at least try too. So like many times before, I cast a spell, just a little incantation to bind the guards, “Dominons igne inferni clamavi et furor dolore te ad prælium. Non video vestigia non audierunt vocem meam et caecus et surdus ingressus venti,” Clicking my fingers together a whoosh of air circled the twelve otherworldly beasts guarding the sealed entrance to the tower.

  One by one, they froze in place. Each guard dropped their weapons, and solidified in a mummified state. Smirking, I stuck my chin up in the air, and felt pretty proud of myself. I had learned something from the old man after all. Of course, binding them was the easy task, now I had to find the entrance, which to the untrained eye was an impossible task.

  Closing my eyes, I focused hard on the doorway, almost willing it to appear, but nothing happened. “Fuck!” I grunted.

  “Okay...focus,” I whispered to myself as I circled the tower, running my hand across the cold stone. All the while the red glow teased and mocked me, knowing it had the better of me. “Bastard!” I cursed again.

  Channelling my entire thoughts on finding the entrance, I ignored the wind whistling around my ears, its wispy tone nipping at my earlobes; irritating me. Time wasn’t on my side and I knew that the binding spell would soon wear off, so I had to up my game. Taking both my hands, I placed them flat against the stone and pressed my cheek up against the wall, and willed the gateway to appear. Warm heat radiated through the stone, sending the oddest sensation tingling through me. I could almost taste its sweet seduction entwining itself deep within me. It was the most delicious thing I had ever experienced, unlike anything I had touched or tasted before. I was mesmerized.

  An amber glow began to appear in an arch where I was touching the wall, and like enchanted, I walked through the doorway, and found myself standing at the bottom of a winding stairwell.

  A mixture of excitement and fear ran through me. This was it. The moment I had long been waiting for, and now I was within reaching distance of finally releasing myself from its grip; its curse.

  Taking in a long breath of air, I placed my hand upon the hand rail, and slowly made my way up.

  Inside, my stomach danced and twirled itself into a knot of unease. Of course I knew that I was breaking every rule and risked my own execution, but my will to survive beyond the walls of this castle were a force to be reckoned with. I had to escape this place and all the memories that liked to scratch at the surface every once in a while, taunting me.

  With each step I took, the knot tightened itself in a ball, leaving me almost nauseated. Sucking in a long lungful of air, I ignored the incessant feeling taking over my insides, concentrating on the spiral stoned stairwell above me.

  It was strange finally being inside the walls that had kept me prisoner here for so long. It wasn’t how I imagined it to be. It was a world away from anything I had seen in all my time on this lonely planet and it soon reminded me of how small and insignificant I really was. I was nothing compared to the magic that was woven here. Although I loathed the curse and all her restraints, I couldn’t help but feel like a minor blip in her existence.

  Lost in my thoughts, I hardly felt the warm air descend upon me.

  Sick and sweet, the aroma aroused the deepest, wildest desires I thought had been hidden long ago. A familiar scent of someone I encountered the night I was summoned to the palace: my coming of age.

  ***

  Bewilderment and excitement ran through my veins as I was bathed by my mother and chambermaid. Warm honey was poured into the water, and gently sponged onto my olive skin. Inside my heart fluttered and I couldn’t help but wonder about what the night had in store for me. Would I be chosen? Would I be the one to catch her eye?

  With my body cleansed and my hair fixed in place, I stood staring at my reflection, taking in every little detail. I had never studied myself before, and I suppose before that moment I had never any cause to pick out my imperfections. But I had been given the opportunity to turn heads, and I had to take this chance as being the first day of the rest of my life. Or so it seemed.

  The soft candlelight reflected in my dark hazelnut eyes. I had never noticed the amber hue that danced across my pupils as the light flickered. My round lips were the softest shade of delicate peach, supple and plump. My hair was long, black and shone with brilliance. It was almost luminescent, even in the light of the candle, and coupled with my eyes, I looked the picture of radiance.

  My mother walked up behind me, staring over my right shoulder, taking in the splendour of my reflection and smiled. I had taken after her and although she was a touch too emotional off late, I couldn’t help but dread the fear of leaving this house and never returning.

  “You are exquisite, Bianka,” she whispered in my ear.

  Smiling, she retreated back and reached out her hand to the chambermaid, who approached her and very carefully handed her the dress. The dress made from Swiss voile and cotton net, and trimmed with pale blue silk taffeta. The bodice had tiny diamante and pearl flowers sewn intricately across the breast, and matching gloves that had elaborate lacework and embroidery.

  Tightening the corset, I held my breath as my maid pulled on the cord, pulling every inch of my waist in, leaving my breasts very much on display. I felt brazen but the most bizarre feeling came over me; warm heat radiated over me, leaving my face with a blush of pink. I had never seen my breasts looking so full and bold. Brushing the oddness to the side, I stood still as the dress was slipped over my head and fastened from behind. My legs were bare but I was thankful, it was a warm evening, and the thought of tight stockings around my legs brought me out in a cold sweat.

  Stepping back, my mother gasped and put her hands to her face. Her eyes began to fill with tears and trying my best not to show my fear, I smiled, reassuring her that I was indeed ready for what lay ahead of me.

  “A gyönyörű baba,” she said as she wiped tears from her eyes.

  “Oh, anya, I am not the beautiful,” I gushed with embarrassment. “Plus, I’m not really a baby anymore, anya,”

  Smiling, my mother walked up to me and cupped my face in her hands, “But you will always be my baby.” Kissing me on the forehead she gently rubbed the side of my face before taking me by the hand and leading out of my room for the last time.

  Looking back at my maid, I couldn’t help but notice her sombre expression. She too wiped tears clean from her face and avoided anymore eye contact with me, and instantly felt a peculiar grief overcome me.

  ***

  Closing my eyes, I pushed the memory to the back of my mind and refused it anymore of my time. I didn’t want to think about that night, the moment my life changed forever.

  Continuing my climb up the stoned stairwell, a rage began to erupt inside of me. I hated what she had done to me. I despised being kept a prisoner all these centuries, and more than anything I wanted to swipe the smug grin from her face; a vision I found hard to ignore. She after all was unlike anything I had seen or experienced before. I had heard the rumours, the usual meanderings of bored townsfolk, but she had never been seen, yet her presence was felt and dominated much of the kingdom. A thousand lifetimes had passed, and she remained supreme ruler of all. Even the king had to bow to her.

  A low rumbling began to shake the stone beneath my feet. Gasping, I grabbed hold of the wooden railing, and held on tight. A light beckoned me forward. Its warm hue was a welcome sight, and the scent that danced around my head told me I was close. I remembered that odour anywhere.

  It was her.

  “I knew the moment I chose you that you were special,” her sultry voice rushed past my ears, leaving my
head dizzy.

  Vanilla infused aromas played havoc with my senses, almost making me feel on a high. It was a scent I remembered so well and instantly brought me back to that one moment in time when my life changed forever.

  ***

  Crimson drapes adorned the windows of the carriage as it took me to the castle. My mother and father sat across from me, neither of them spoke a word, but I could tell from the red ring around my mother’s eyes that she had been crying.

  I had been so young and naïve, I never once thought about what I would be leaving behind if I was chosen. If only I had known what lay ahead, I may have ran, disappeared into the night and no one would ever have found me. But like most things, hindsight is useless considering the gravity of the situation.

  Holding in my breath I wondered if my lungs would explode and I would escape the trip, flee the festivities that lay ahead. I had heard rumour about the coming of age balls, but no one ever truly spoke of what happened there, nor did anyone who was chosen ever attend Sunday mass again. It was as though they disappeared from the face of the earth, and the town’s folk accepted that. Daughters were chosen and gone, and not once did their fathers search or speak of them again.

  Clearing his throat, my father looked me in the eye. For a moment I saw a hint of dread, or maybe it was regret, but he still led me to the slaughter, and for that alone, I could never forgive him.

  Our carriage came to a stop and as my door was opened, my mother grabbed my wrist and her eyes filled with water, her touch hesitant.

  “Always remember that this was bestowed upon us. We are bound to the cloth,” she said as her voice broke.

  Nodding, I pulled my arm away, and let my father guide me from the carriage. Standing still and silent, I looked up at the giant turrets that seemed to stand out of place on the castle, but oddly gave it a mesmerizing touch of unique class. I wondered about the Rose and how she held so much power over a small kingdom and tried my best not look a fool as one of the ushers walked towards me, gesturing me to follow him.

  My heart did a double take. Excitement, euphoria, fright, bewilderment were but a few of the emotions running through me.

  What if she chooses me? I thought over and over, almost convincing myself I was not what she desired; yet, there was a hint of wishful thinking - something I will never understand.

  Row and rows of possible candidates stood with their chaperones as we were led inside the grand foyer, where musicians welcomed us with triumphant music, sending a few of the other girls into an excitable frenzy.

  I, on the other hand played it somewhat cool. How could I not? As enchanting as the whole spectacle was, the voice inside my head told me this was wrong and to escape, but the voice was shushed by my mother, who just so happened to be the one person to truly understand the confusion consuming me.

  “Bianka, you must forget about everything you see and hear right now. You need to concentrate on your presentation. You have but one chance at this. You do not want to be segregated from the community due to rejection. Rejection is NOT a choice,” she said, almost coldly.

  Oddly enough, I don’t think I had ever seen my mother look so distant and vague before. My father too noted the indifference in her, and placed a caring hand on her shoulder and whispered something in her ear.

  Retreating to his side, she not once looked at me again after that.

  My heart broke.

  A large man walked across the main floor and stopped in the centre. In his hand he held a scroll, and as he read it, each one the girls stood forward, until it came to my turn. My feet refused to move. I had become stuck and if truth were known, it was my heart that refused me movement.

  “Bianka Anastasia Bakos!” the speaker repeated, until finally, a guard came and ushered me forward.

  There were grumbles of disapproval from members of the crowd. So much so I could feel my cheeks redden from the shame.

  That was the last time my parents and I were in close proximity of each other. A moment I have lived a thousand lifetimes and over.

  Majestic music erupted throughout the hall, and on the balcony above us, she appeared.

  Dressed in white and gold, fine jewels on her gown glittered and danced in the light of the room. People fell to their knees, bowing their heads, showing their utmost respect for the Queen who had taken time and time again from them, and yet they bequeathed so much love and respect for her, or maybe it was fear; trepidation that had become a curse, a living nightmare.

  Raising her hand into the air, the music stopped and complete silence fell around the room.

  “Welcome my humble citizens. Tonight is a night for celebration, rejoicing. A night when one soul becomes one with mine, a night when all your dreams and fortunes become reality,” her regal voice filled the room with flawless grace.

  “For over a thousand years the great community of Hollókő has been gracious and kind. Your generosity has not once gone unnoticed, and because of that, tonight on a rare occasion, I feel it pertinent to offer you something of a thank you,”

  Clicking her fingers, a small brown haired boy ran up to her side and whispered something to him, and quickly he ran off. Focusing her gaze on the row girls in front of her, me included. I could feel my heart pound. It thunderous thump had me almost ready to faint, but stubborn and intrigued, I kept my composure, and stood tall and proud.

  From behind her, the young boy appeared, but this time he held in his hand some white fabric. Taking the piece of cloth from him, she shooed him away. I could tell already how easily irritated she could become.

  Clearing her throat, she held up the single piece of white embroidered cloth and let it drop to the floor. It swayed from side to side as it slowly made its way to the marbled ground. Once it made contact with the ground, a loud boom echoed around the room. The crowd began to look on in bafflement as the floor seemed to open up, and out came small beings. Their heads were covered with a garment resembling a monk's cowl, which fell over the breast and shoulders. The carried a mock sceptre in their hands, which was adorned by a carved head an animal. It was like a farcical performance. Very flamboyant, pompous and quite raunchy, if I were to be honest. But who were we to grumble?

  There had to have been more than a hundred of them, each one of the very unique in their style of dance, but it their eyes scared me. Deep crimson, and lifeless.

  “Rejoice my good people - you have earned your gift of fortune,” she bellowed over the music that began to play loud and fast, drowning out the giggles and chatter of the crowd.

  Smiling and baring unkempt teeth, one of the clowns came towards me and raised his hand in front of my father. My father obediently held out his hand, unsure of what was happening. Laughing the clown dropped several gold pieces into my father’s palm; my mother’s gasp was loud enough to gain a mocking curtsey.

  Once the furore of the excitement was over, silence soon fell, and a loud bell rang out.

  It was time.

  One by one, the other girls and I were led from the grand hallway, and were marched in single file into an awaiting room. The door was closed behind us and not one of us looked at the other, afraid of tempting fate, or even worse, being damned before the chance of being chosen.

  With my eyes focused on the carpeted floor beneath me, I avoided the whimpers, the stomach rumbles and the two large beasts standing on either side of the double doors at the far end of the room.

  The smell was the first thing to get my attention. Fresh cinnamon and vanilla, infused in a citrusy bath filled the air around me. It was beautiful, tantalising, and in a peculiar way awoke something inside me. Closing my eyes, I relished in the transfixing bouquet of momentary heaven.

  The doors opened and jerked me sober. Raising my eyes slightly, she walked in, dressed in a lighter dress this time. Its blue hue matched the pearly white flesh that was on show.

  As she moved across the room, she stopped and looked at each girl, placing a finger on their chin, moving their heads, inspecting every inch of
their faces. Her face showed signs of disappointment, and frowning; she turned to one of her maids, and shook her head.

  “And this is Hollókő’s best?” she spat furiously.

  Then it was my turn. My insides ached from standing so still. I tried to not make a sound as I inhaled deeply. I did anything and everything in my power not to draw any kind of scrutiny upon myself.

  Standing in front of me she crossed her arms, and tapped her fingers lightly on her upper arm. Tilting her head to the side, she looked me up and down, and then spoke.

  “What is your name?”

  “Bianka Anastasia Bakos,” I replied.

  “Turn around,” she ordered, as she spun her finger at me.

  Doing as I was told, I slowly turned clockwise, giving her enough viewing time.

  Frowning at me, she shrugged her shoulders and walked away.

  Standing there in my frozen position, I didn’t know what to do. Was I to be condemned and shunned to the unknown because I wasn’t appealing enough? I was frightened. I knew what my fate would be if I were banished, and it wasn’t a choice I’d chose any day.

  For what seemed like hours, the numbers of the girls fell, until there were just two of us left. Neither of us made a sound. There was only the ticking and chiming of the clock as it hit three am.

  “Come!” One of the maidens ordered us, and following her out of the double doors, we were led into a darkened room, candles adorning the walls, and drapes that gently flowed from the midnight breeze.

  Lying across a day bed, she was dressed in an almost transparent ivory chemise. Her breasts were full and protruded through the small neckline and it was hard to not look. I had never seen anything like it in my entire life.

  Taking a sip from a gold goblet, she picked up an apple and bit into it, leaving a slight drip of moisture on her chin.