Chapter Text
Once upon a time, in a far, far away land.
Well, not that far away, it was just the lovely country of France.
Somewhere in the heart of France, lived a handsome rabbit prince. A prince whose beauty was like no other, fur as white as snow, paired with piercing blue eyes. He was as handsome as a prince would get! But he bore a cold heart filled with nothing but greed and envy, a selfish man who had not a care for anything pathetic. He never spared any sympathy for those who needed it, and had never once shown an ounce of pity.
Tonight was special, the prince held a magnificent ball. Gone were the sounds of the thundering storm outside, for the lively music and hearty talk of the noble folk inside numbed it all. There the prince say, with about five footmen brushing his fur. He looked at himself in the ornate hand mirror he always held, flashing a smile. His little rabbit teeth stuck out the most, but apart from that there was nothing special about it.
Beautiful yokai women danced with ballgowns that looked as if they were flowers turned upside down. With the grace of a hummingbird they moved their feet around the floor, the rhythm of the music was the cherry on top. The scene was quite the elegant sight, the castle decked in pretty lights was a view that would make anyone in the common land’s eyes shine with envy, it was something any below nobility could never have.
The prince sat haughtily on his throne, about five footmen waiting on him. One brushed his fur, the other dusted his coat. His eyes wandered about the room, momentarily catching a glimpse of a beautiful woman, before darting towards someone even more dazzling. It was obvious; He was looking for a wife. He sat back in his chair, smiling when a candelabra was held to light his face as he admired himself in the mirror. It was such a perfect night, how he wished it would never end.
The music abruptly came to a halt, and there was a single knock on the door. Infuriated that his beautiful night had been interrupted, the prince angrily grabbed the candelabra from the footman, grumbling as he marched towards the closed door before swinging it open.
There stood a hooded figure. An old woman with nothing except a single red rose in her hand. She wanted to take shelter for the night, the rain had drenched her head to toe, the cape of her hood torn. With distress in her voice, she asked if she could take shelter for one night, just for the storm, but all she could was the blood-coloured flower. She pleaded for just a night’s stay. The prince laughed in her face, telling her that he had no time to entertain such a pathetic sight. The woman dropped to her knees, begging yet again with whatever little energy she had left. The prince’s hand simply waved her off as he went back into the hall, picking the mirror up where he left off.
The woman warned him to not be received by appearances, for beauty is found within. He once again laughed in her face, waving his hand to gesture her to leave.
One of the prince’s footmen began to attempt to shoo off the hooded lady, who lowered her head. She let out a sob, it was as if she were crying. Before she raised her head, a glorious yellow light flashed out of the hood, blinding everyone in sight. The hood dropped to the floor behind the now beautiful cat enchantress. She wore a lovely red gown, quite resembling a rose. She looked at the prince in disgust. The prince who was now on his knees, frightened and begging her for mercy. The same woman who he had tried to shoo off just a few moments ago. She had witnessed the frigidity of the prince's heart, she had seen that there was no love in there to spare.
With a loud crash of thunder, the prince felt his breath catch in his throat. He began to grow larger the fur on his head standing on end. With a loud wail of agony he clutched his chest as the sleeves of his coat began to rip, the jewellery he wore began to pop. Once flat teeth now grew out into fangs, his claws grew sharper and longer. The once beautiful prince was now a hideous beast. The storm outside seemed to match, gales of wind bringing raindrops into the palace. The enchantress looked at him with a cold glare and disappeared, the doors of the castle slamming shut as she evaporated into nothing.
The curse would only be broken if he found love, true love. He had time until the single, bright red rose shed it's last petal.
But it was impossible, for who could learn how to love a beast?
Years later, the castle stood isolated. Cursed with an invisible cloak of the events of years ago. In the west wing stood the enchanted rose, the same one the enchantress first offered. It was covered by a glass bell jar to protect it through the seasons, all in vain, for it continued to wither.
Whoever would learn to love a hideous beast?