The Truth Beneath The Rose

The silence that overtook the room was enough of an answer. Mercy felt used. Like she was pulled into this on purpose, not just by the sudden death of her father. The air suddenly went cold against her skin. Her whole body froze, and they noticed her body tense as if suddenly under a heavy stage light. She could feel her eyes rim with salty water, threatening to spill over her lashes. This feeling—the feeling of having the world be against you—was common. She felt it on the hungry nights when her parents couldn’t afford food. She felt it the first time she met her mother’s side of the family, when they gave her looks of disgust, as if she were a speck of dust that everyone kicked around. Like she was a blade of grass that grew and grew, until someone saw this and cut her down—cutting all her hopes and dreams. She felt that feeling when her mother passed, and later her father, and everything became all too clear to be real. She had no one to go to. All on her father’s side had passed away. Her mother’s side hated her and her father because they weren’t rich. They had anticipated Mercy’s mother marrying someone with money, but instead fell in love with her father.

And since they couldn’t hate their own daughter, they hated the only ones they could.

Mercy'swhole world was torn to shreds—or what was left of it. She had no one to count on. No one to believe in. No one to call hers.

Except maybe Edge.

He hurt her. Maybe unknowingly, but he hurt her. That could never be changed. And later, he held her. Cared for her as if some helpless child.

She turned toward him. His misty gray eyes—the same ones the beast held. No, she told herself. That is not him. That will never be him…

She stood from her chair, leaning on the table for support. She needed to get the weight off her weary legs…

“I was wondering if I could go out and see the gardens.” Mercy said, letting her spine align once again.

Ian turned to Edge. Edge met his gaze. The look that passed between them was inevitable—she knew what they were thinking automatically. She clenched her small, white fists, holding herself from grabbing a sweet roll—or even a fork—and chunking it at them. They thought she would try to flee from the mansion.

“Yes, just let me…do something first.” Ian said skeptically.

And with that, she left.



Ian jammed the key into the ten-pound lock and gave it a good twist. He pulled it out after he heard a satisfying click and turned to face his son.

“You didn’t need to do that.” Edge, his arms crossed over his chest, glared at his father. He didn’t like making Mercy feel like a caged animal, just as he is. “She isn’t going to run away.”

“Oh, but I did, son. People are unpredictable. Your “many-greats grandmother” was very unpredictable, also. You think you can rely on someone for breaking a curse, and they betray you—”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t know the situation. She could’ve been in love without realizing it and it was too late—” Edge interrupted, only to be interrupted in reply.

“The least you can do for love is deny it, son. I’m sick of this. This witch could have tricked us. There might not even be love at all, and she knew it. She knew it would be permanent.”

“Mom wouldn’t have married you if there wasn’t love.”

“But look at where we are now.” Ian smiling a cunning grin, a look that suited the man. “Your mother was naïve. She thought that if she believed we were in love, then we would really be in love…and so did I.” He looked down at the dirt beneath his feet, thinking of the only woman e had really ever loved. It was when she was gone that he had become such a bastard.

“That’s not true.”

“Really? ‘Cause I’m starting to believe it.”

Ian began toward the mansion once again, brushing past Edge.

“What about Mercy?”

Ian stopped cold in his tracks. He turned slowly, like an owl staring at its prey. “Mercy is too frail to break a curse. She’s too…unlike you. Exact opposites. It’s like a lion falling in love with a flower. She’ll break the next time you touch her—”

“Stop!”

Ian stared at his son. The truth suddenly dawned on him. “You love the girl, don’t you?”

Edge tensed.

Ian walked up to him, looming in front of his face, and Edge met his eye. “Don’t expect to not get hurt. Flowers hardly fall in love with lions.”



Mercy felt as if she were lying on rocks, heated beneath the surface by a tomb of boiling magma just waiting to implode in her face. Everything felt that way. Hard. She felt like she couldn’t rely on anything. She couldn’t rely on the bed for warmth. The curtains for shade. Her pen for ink. Her mind for choices. Her heart for answers.

She took her head between her hands, conflicting emotions battling in her brain. She couldn’t think lying on top of the hard bricks that were meant to be a bed. Finally, she used her arms to levitate her upper body. They shook with all the weight she put on them. She felt so weak. Why did she feel this way?

She put her hand over her forehead, then went limp on the bed. It was only moments later that Colly came in, and then noticed her state. “Are you okay, child?”

Mercy flipped over, slowly but surely. “I’m fine.” She managed with a weak smile.

“Ian said you can go out to the gardens now.”

“Thank you, Colly.”

The outside was like a whole other world. The air that danced around her face was riveting, empowering. She finally felt free, as if she could forget the beast, the curse, and the deceased. A heavenly fragrance that bounced around her made her head fuzzy.

Mercy raced toward the garden, all thoughts flying out her ears and into the past. She stopped at the side of the mansion, knowing she had found it.

The garden began at a white metal archway, with long vines creeping up its sides as if they’d been there for centuries. Tall bushes surrounded the arch, making a circle. It’s a miniature maze. The garden must be inside.

She walked inside, her eyes having to adjust to the bright colors that surrounded her. It took her several moments to realize they were the flowers.

Roses—beautiful roses of every color. Pink, blue, orange, yellow, red, burgundy, purple. Mercy’s eyes boggled out of her head. It felt as if she were walking on clouds…that sprouted flowers. The scent had become so strong, she swam through it.

She ventured through the maze, basking in the dull clouds, admiring every piece of beauty that passed. She held her breath as she reached the middle of the maze, where a beautiful white altar appeared. It resembled something she saw in a picture. Her mother had been in a white, long dress, with see through sleeves and a pearl necklace wrapped around her throat. Her father had been dressed in a messy tuxedo, over-sized because he had inherited from her grandfather. They had gotten married in an altar exactly like this.

Cherry blossom trees rounded this altar, and the blossom leaves fell, making the cascade around her like rain. They were strewn across the ground, a sight just as beautiful as the roses. Also around the altar, were little brown benches with silver iron armrests.

There was a stone, gray bench that sat in the middle of this white altar. She decided to sit on the littler brown benches surrounding the altar instead so she could look up and watch the cherry blossoms fall all around her.

Her whole body relaxed under the cherry blossoms. The altar almost seemed like home. It was as if it had been waiting for this day—and she had been waiting for it.

A sound broke the everlasting silence.

At first, she couldn’t tell what it was—maybe a sort of croak. But then it came again…and again.

It was coming from right below her.

Bracing herself, she pulled her legs up onto the bench, and bent over to look.

What she saw made a wide smile grow on her face.