The Rose and the Balloon: A Beauty and the Beast Story (Once Upon a Twist Tales Book 1)

by Kirsten Fichter

  The Rose and the Balloon

  A Beauty and the Beast Story

  Book One of the Once Upon a Twist Tales

  Kirsten Fichter

  Copyright © 2016 Kirsten Fichter

  Cover Design by Latitude 40 Photography

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  ISBN: 1515061191

  ISBN-13: 978-1515061199

  To Jonathon – who claims this tale is based on a true story.

  I still say it isn’t… but I don’t think you’ll ever believe that. Anyway, thanks for being the most exasperating twenty-three year old on the face of the planet.

  One

  “Higher, higher!” Queen Maeva thrust her hand upward, as if she could shove the balloon to greater heights. “Fly, fly, my pet!” She squealed like a toddler, caught up in all the excitement.

  Prince Dmitri tried not to wince as he caught the sound of the court's ill-concealed laughter behind them. “Mother,” he said, laying his hand on her arm. “It's going higher. Be patient.”

  She pushed her lips into a pretty pout. “But it's going too slow.”

  “That's just how it works. It'll be where you want it in a minute.”

  “But I want it there now!”

  Her childish demand brought forth another round of chuckles from the nobles. For once, Dmitri wished some of his mother's crazy dreams could be achieved in privacy. All of Rohesia knew of her mental condition. They didn’t need to be reminded of it every day. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to remain calm. Three more weeks, he told himself. You only have three more weeks, and then you can be free of all of this.

  With that assurance, he turned his attention back to the sky. His mother's latest obsession hung before the azure blue – round, plump, and red. At the queen's request, the hot air balloon had been crafted completely out of brightly colored silk to commemorate the national flower. Dmitri would have preferred the color not so vibrant, for – in his personal opinion – the balloon looked more like a giant drop of blood than a delicate flower. And he knew what roses should look like; he was surrounded by them every moment of the day.

  A voice spoke from behind him. “It's rather pretty.”

  Dmitri turned to smile at the speaker but frowned when he saw only one person standing there. “Nicoline, where's Nicolas?”

  His sister shrugged. “I don't know. He said he had a surprise for you.”

  Dmitri scowled. Young Prince Nicolas, full of the unfortunate mischief that plagued most twelve-year-old boys, did not usually have very good surprises. Most of them resulted in a mess that Dmitri himself had to clean up. He did not look forward to this newest surprise. Nicoline, however, was not disturbed by whatever trouble her twin was up to now.

  “What's with the frown?” she asked. “Aren't you happy?”

  “Perfectly.” The word came out in a growl.

  She only laughed. “It could be worse. Mother could start off your courtships again.”

  Dmitri winced, remembering the fiascoes of visiting dignitaries and supposedly eligible young ladies of rank. Nicoline was right; it could be worse – far worse.

  Queen Maeva tugged on his arm, bringing his attention back to her. “Dmitri, is it falling?”

  “No, Mother, don't worry about it. The balloon is still going up.”

  “But it's taking too long!”

  Dmitri sighed. “Patience, Mother.” He didn't bother to keep the annoyance out of his tone. She wouldn't pick up on it anyway.

  “Poor thing,” he heard one of the nobles say. “I'm afraid she'll never be sane, not completely.”

  “No,” her companion said, and Dmitri imagined him twirling his stylish mustache around his finger to add effect to his words. “She's quite batty, and our beautiful kingdom has to suffer the unseemly image she casts upon us. A shame, really.”

  Dmitri bit his tongue. Not only does Rohesia suffer that image, but I as well. He hated himself for thinking that, but it was the truth. With a crazy mother, few people respected Dmitri's position as Crown Prince. Most believed him capable of the lunacy that plagued her.

  “Look, look! It's so high!” Queen Maeva bounced on her toes, waving her arms in the air. The prince sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  ~*~

  “Ouch!” Janelle gritted her teeth and pulled her hand back to examine it. This was the fourteenth thorn she'd encountered that morning. Her palm still bore the stains of previous thorns, but at least nothing was bleeding.

  “Blasted roses,” she muttered, glaring at the rosy blossoms as if she could wither them with a single glance. But of course, she couldn't. She'd often considered plucking all the petals off and stomping them into ground, but her father would never support the action. No, he would consider it a blatant outrage. The roses were his heart, his whole life, his precious babies, his ticket to winning Rohesia's flora show every year. If Janelle ever so much as bruised one flower, Lord Roux would find it.

  Janelle sighed. It wasn't as if her father didn't love her; he did, and no daughter could ask for a more loving father. But since his wife's death, Lord Roux often got distracted by the splendor of his roses, and Janelle found herself a poor recipient of his attentions.

  Less than a mile away, a bright spot of red in the sky caught her vision. Janelle knew what it was without looking; indeed, the entire kingdom knew what it was – Crazy Maeva's hot air balloon. She knew it wasn't proper to address the queen that way, but everyone else called her that, and so the name was stuck in her head. Everyone had been abuzz with the news of the flying contraption all week, especially since the last balloon had gotten stuck on one of the castle turrets. It had taken a multitude of volunteers to disentangle the balloon and remove it. Janelle imagined the crowds surrounding the castle courtyard right now were immense, but the family Roux was not numbered among them. With the annual flora show only three weeks away, Lord Roux's only concern lay in the rich soil and thorny bushes around his estate.

  “The finest roses in all of Rohesia,” Janelle mimicked her father's voice as she bent over the bushes. “The purest red, the sweetest scent, and the softest petals. No rose anywhere in the world can compare.”

  As she spoke, she glanced over to the other end of the garden where Lord Roux caressed the roses covering a lovely white trellis. When she was certain he wasn't listening to her, she twisted her face into a scowl and addressed the nearest blossom.

  “If I never see any of you again, I will be the happiest of all.”

  A growing murmur came from the direction of the castle, and Janelle turned to watch the red balloon rise higher. A large basket dangled below it, proof of Crazy Maeva's dream to someday soar with the clouds. Her royal scientists had not succeeded in producing a balloon strong enough to hold the weight of a person, but the queen would not give up. Someday, the size of the balloon, the quality of the material, and the heat from the burner would combine into the perfect setting and Crazy Maeva would fly.

  Janelle frowned as she realized the wind was picking up. Surely the breeze was too strong for the balloon; the scientists would have to bring it down lest the ropes snap and their contraption be lost forever to the sky. The basket moved slightly as the balloon leaned with the wind, yet there was still no sign of it being pulled back to the ground. She put both hands on her hips and studied the hot air balloon. What was that dark lump in the basket? It moved slightly, but it didn't seem to parallel the motions of the balloon. Could it be...?

&nbs
p; She gasped as the lump grew into a distinct shape. It was a person. Crazy Maeva had finally sent a person up to the clouds.

  ~*~

  “Mother, we should pull it down!” Dmitri urged. “The wind's getting too strong!”

  “Never!” she shouted. “Higher, higher!”

  Dmitri cast desperate eyes at the balloon. He knew the ropes couldn't last long, not with the wind growing stronger every minute. The loss of the balloon was petty in his mind, but he knew the court would not look favorably on yet another failed dream from their eccentric queen.

  Behind him, Nicoline gave a squeal of betrayal and grabbed his arm. “Dmitri, isn't that Nicolas?”

  “Nicolas?” Dmitri's heart sank as he spotted his lost brother in the balloon's basket. No, no, no... this can't be happening!

  “He went without me!” Nicoline stomped her foot. “He promised he wouldn't! He said that we two would be the first to fly! That little devil!”

  Every female in the crowd began screaming, and the men flung themselves about shouting advice – as if any of that could save the young prince. Dmitri didn't care that it would ruin his mother's day; he had to get the balloon down now. But before he could give the order to the group of scientists surrounding the balloon's anchorage point, he saw what Nicolas was doing. His foolish brother had taken a knife with him and was now sawing through the anchor ropes.

  “Nicolas, no! Don't!”

  But Dmitri was either too far away or too grown-up to heed. Nicolas's knife severed the last tie to earth and the balloon sailed freely in the wind.

  “Away!” Queen Maeva sang out.

  Dmitri looked about wildly. In this wind, the balloon could be carried any great distance. The burner and gas supply wouldn't last long, and then the blasted contraption would fall. If the basket were to plummet into the forest or the ocean...

  The blood drained from his face. The balloon had to come down before then.

  “Get my horse!”

  The servant he'd yelled at jumped in shock to his voice but scurried off to obey. Nicoline's brows went up.

  “Does this mean I'm not going to be a twin any longer?” She almost sounded hopeful.

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “And it would be bad if we just left him up there?”

  Dmitri glared at her, and she dropped her shoulders in resignation. Their mother hadn't recognized Nicolas as the rider, and she alternated between berating the dark figure for being the first to fly and encouraging the flight to continue.

  A longbow was easily obtained from a passing guard. The guard looked even more alarmed when the prince snatched away his quiver too, almost cutting off the poor fellow's airflow in the process as the leather strap caught around his neck. The familiar sound of hooves on cobblestones announced the arrival of his horse. A swift bound got him into the saddle, and then Dmitri was giving chase.

  The balloon moved slower in the wind than he had anticipated; apparently, its mammoth size slowed progress. Dmitri caught up to it, and then swiftly nocked an arrow. He breathed a quick prayer before releasing. The arrow punctured the balloon near the base, getting stuck in the fabric, but effectively creating the hole Dmitri wanted. Immediately, the air gathered in the balloon began escaping. Dmitri allowed himself a smile as his mother's crazy dream began descending.

  Above him, Nicolas was not so happy. As the balloon lowered, Dmitri heard indecipherable insults hurled in his direction, but he let them pass. His brother would be safe now, and Dmitri would make certain he'd regret his rash actions later.

  The basket bounced as Nicolas stomped his feet in anger. Dmitri winced. He should keep still. He was just opening his mouth to shout to his brother when he saw the heel of Nicolas's boot drive through the woven strands of the basket's floor. Nicolas yelped and grabbed out for anything to steady himself. His flailing hands caught the bottom of the burner, and the burner fell.

  Dmitri watched, horrified, as the basket began smoking. The fire eagerly caught the dry weave, its orange tongue licking up a greater area with each passing second. Without wasting a second, he spurred his horse forward.

  Nicolas's white face appeared over the edge of the basket. “Dmitri!”

  “Jump, Nicolas! You have to get out of there!” The balloon was low enough that Dmitri thought he could catch his brother. “Come on, jump!”

  Now the fire was climbing the ropes to gnaw at the balloon itself. Nicolas swung himself over the edge of the basket, dangled there for a heart-wrenching moment, and let go. He gave a great shout as he fell, thinking himself about to smash into the earth, but Dmitri was there. Nicolas fell right on top of him, and both boys tumbled off the horse, bruised and winded, but otherwise unhurt.

  TWO

  “Watch out, Janelle!” Lord Roux ran through the garden, waving his hands.

  Janelle was already sprinting toward the road. She’d been watching the balloon, and its fiery descent did not comfort her in the least. Especially when she saw that its landing point would be directly where she was standing. Bits of burning fabric and basket fell into the rose bushes, but she knew that would be little damage to what was coming.

  Janelle and her father reached the gravel driveway leading to the main road at the same time. She grabbed her father's arm, and together they raced away. No sooner had they gained the road than a terrific boom shook the entire world. The blast knocked both of them off their feet, sending them sprawling into the cobblestones.

  “That Crazy Maeva!” Lord Roux shouted, picking himself up. “She should know better than to tinker with fire and gas. Nothing good can ever come of her insanity!” He assisted his daughter to her feet, watching her anxiously. “Are you hurt?”

  Janelle checked herself over quickly. “Other than a scraped elbow and a bump on my shin, I'm fine.”

  He relaxed and brushed her forehead with a quick kiss. “Thank the Lord for that.”

  She turned to look back at their house, and a sob rose in her throat. “We should thank Him that we sent all the servants to the castle this afternoon.”

  Lord Roux's jaw dropped as he viewed his property. Though the airborne fire had not completely destroyed the balloon, the flames had mercilessly swallowed the gas burner. The resulting explosion that had knocked Janelle and her father to the ground sparked the destruction of their house. Dried by the hot Rohesian sun, the wooden clapboards crafting its exterior held little resistance to the power of the fire.

  Janelle could hardly tear her gaze away from the spectacle of the house, but she realized that the fire was not content only with a single devastation. The explosion rained flames onto the garden; roses and thorns alike melted under the living, red tongues. Everything disappeared under a cloud of orange and black smoke.

  “No!” Lord Roux held out his hands as though he might snatch his things from the ashes. “No, no, no! This cannot be! My house, my property, my roses!”

  Fearful that he might try to kill the fire on his own and avenge his property, Janelle caught his arm. “Father! No! It's gone!”

  His mouth moved as if he wished to speak, but no sound issued forth. He could only gape in disbelief and horror. Yet, Janelle knew he understood her. Trying to save anything from the destruction now would only jeopardize the rescuer's safety.

  Tears blinded Janelle's eyes until the dreadful scene swam before her. She was stunned that everything she'd ever known could disappear that fast. It was as if someone had erased her entire life. Her words of before came back, and she wished she could swallow them just as the fire had swallowed the roses. I wished I would never see them again, and now I won't. What have I done?

  Footsteps pounded on the cobblestones, and Janelle turned to see Prince Dmitri running through the smoke, dragging his younger brother with him. Prince Nicolas protested loudly and tried to pull away, but his brother held onto him. Dmitri looked at Janelle. “Are you all right?”

  Lord Roux answered for his daughter. “We may be, on the whole, unharmed, my prince, but this is a loss too great
to fathom! Everything we worked for, everything we knew – gone in but a moment!”

  Dmitri winced. “It is, indeed, a great loss, but you should have no concern for your well-being. As my mother's wild schemes and my brother's reckless behavior were the cause of your ruin, I shall do whatever it is in my power to remedy this.”

  “Remedy this?” Lord Roux all but shrieked, forgetting he was talking to the Crown Prince. “Don't you know what this means for me – for us? That blasted contraption nearly killed us, devastated my roses, devoured all that I own, and all you can say is that you'll remedy this? There is no remedy!”

  Janelle caught his arm. “Father, please.”

  But he shook her off. “You're a pompous, conniving, worthless royal, and all of you are the same! Think that you can do whatever you please, to whomever you please, and it doesn't bother you two petals, does it?”

  His outburst quieted Nicolas so that Dmitri was able to drop his hold without fearing his brother would run away. “Lord Roux, I understand you're upset...”

  “Upset? Upset? I am not upset, my boy. I am livid!”

  “Lord Roux, please...” Dmitri tried again, but Janelle stepped between them, putting her arm around her father and steering him away.

  “Come away, Father,” she said.

  The crowds from the castle were now arriving at the scene and she caught sight of a few familiar faces among them. Janelle beckoned to them, and the servants rushed forward to take care of her father. Once she saw him calmed somewhat, she turned back to the prince.

  “Your Highness, I must beg you to stop. This is unlike anything my father has ever experienced before.”

  “I understand that, but I'm only trying to reason with him.”

  Janelle shoved her hands on her hips. “Reason? In all due respect, Your Highness, we just lost everything. How could you expect to reason with a man who just lost everything?”