The Rose Bride by Nancy Holder

died. Rose was terrified for the old woman, precisely because she
was
old. If Rose’s parents were alive, they would have kept Elise at the
château
until her dying day. To be thrown out in the twilight of her life—it was a shame and a stain on the house of Marchand.
    “I
was
loved,” Rose wept. “You loved me.”
    “I still love you, sweeting,” Elise said hoarsely. She looped a tendril of hair behind Rose’s ear. “Don’t fret on my account, ma
petite
. I’ll be all right.”
    “Don’t lie to make me feel better,” Rose protested. “I can’t bear this. Oh, gods, I hate her!” She burst into fresh tears.
    “I’m well liked in the village,” Elise said, gathering her into her arms again. “Someone will take me in.”
    “I’ll write you every day,” Rose promised. “I’ll send you letters whenever I can. And I’ll ask Ombrine to send me to market with the cook, so I can see you.”
    “Such a good girl.” Elise cupped Rose’s chin. “Don’t send letters. It will anger her. And don’t ask to go to the village. If you can manage it, let her think it’s her idea to send you. You see how she is.”
    Rose’s hands shook as she wrapped them around Elise’s.
    “But she doesn’t see how you are and there’s her loss. Her world is narrow and dark, like a mountain pass. But yours is a beautiful garden.”
    But the garden was cut back for the winter. The only roses that grew were the purple ones. The rest were sticks and withered leaves.
    “It will be a beautiful garden in the spring,” Rose said.
    “It is beautiful now,” Elise insisted. She leaned into the purple roses and breathed in their scent. Rose knew Elise had never heard the roses speak. Nor had anyone else. They whispered only to the daughter of Celestine. Ombrine was unaware that the purple roses even existed. She knew that Celestine had planted the garden and so she had no desire whatsoever to set foot in it.
    “I did this to you.” Rose’s voice broke. “By being willful and disobedient.”
    “Non, non, non, ma Rose,”
Elise said, smoothing away the lines in Rose’s forehead. “She would have done it anyway. Don’t add this weight to the burden you carry.”
    “It’s so wrong!” Rose looked around. She found a stick on the ground and broke it in two. Then she threw the pieces down and stomped on them. Elise watched quietly.
    “Then remember that it’s wrong,” Elise said. “And when you’re a great lady, act with mercy and justice:”
    Rose sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands. “I shall never be a great lady. Nothing will go right ever again.”
    Elise stroked her hair. “Your mother said much the same thing when she was your age,” she said.
    Rose raised her tearstained face. “She did?”
    Elise nodded. “She had trials and tribulations of her own. They kept her heart very soft. And that, I believe, is why she was able to love you so very, very much. Those who feel deeply, love deeply.”
    “I would rather be a block of ice,” Rose insisted. “I’m done with feeling. Beyond you, I’ll never love another human being.”
    “I doubt that very much:’ Elise trailed her fingers down the side of Rose’s face and drew her back up to her feet. “Oh, how I wish I could watch you fall in love.”
    “I shall never fall in love,” Rose muttered. “Ever.”
    Elise smiled very sadly. Then she took a breath. “Rose, there is something I have kept to myself. Something I have not dared to speak of. There are some new plants in the herb garden. I’ve never seen their like before. I don’t know what they’re for.”
    Rose understood at once. “I have never eaten from her hand,” Rose reminded her.
    “I—I won’t be here to protect you any longer,” Elise continued. Her voice faltered. “I have begged the goddess to guard you. I’ve offered my life in exchange for yours.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Perhaps this is her answer, sending me away.”
    “The lady of the moon is our