“Yes, my prince, it is. My sisters and I come from a long line of royalty.”
“I don’t understand!”
Circe’s sisters stepped into the light and stood behind her. Their grotesquerie made Circe’s beauty even more pronounced.
It was startling, really.
It wasn’t that they were ugly, the sisters; it was just that everything about them was so striking, and in such contrast to their other features. Each feature on its own could have been beautiful. Their large eyes, for example, might have looked stunning on another woman. Their hair, somehow it was too black, like one could become lost in the depth of the darkness, and the contrast of their bloodred lips against their parchment white skin was just too shocking. They didn’t seem real, these sisters. None of this did, because all of it was absurd. He felt as if he must be dreaming, caught in a nightmare. He was entranced by Circe’s transfiguration, and it made him forget his earlier vow never again to think of her.
He was enamored with her beauty once more.
“Circe! This is wonderful! All is well, you’re of royal descent, we can be married!”
“We had to be sure you really loved her,” said Lucinda, her eyes narrowing.
“Yes, sure,” said Martha.
“We wouldn’t just…”
“Let our little sister marry a…”
“Monster!” they shouted accusingly in unison.
“Monster? How dare you!” the Prince snapped.
The sisters laughed.
“That is what we see—”
“A monster.”
“Oh, others may find you handsome enough—”
“But you have a cruel heart!”
“And that is what we see, the ugliness of your soul.”
“Soon all will see you for the cruel beast you are!”
“Sisters, please! Let me speak! He is mine, after all!” said Circe, trying to calm her sisters. “It is my right to deliver the retribution.”
“There is no need for this,” the Prince said, finally showing his fear—whether it be of the sisters or of losing the beautiful vision before him. “We can be married now. I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you. There’s nothing to stand in our way. I must have you as my wife!”
“Your wife? Never! I see now you only loved my beauty. I will ensure no woman will ever want you no matter how you try to charm her! Not as long as you remain as you are—tainted by vain cruelty.”
The sisters’ laugh could be heard clear across the land on that night. It was so piercing it sent hundreds of birds into flight and frightened the entire population of the kingdom, even Gaston—but Circe continued with her curse while Gaston and the others wondered what ominous happenings might be afoot.
“Your ugly deeds will mar that handsome face of yours, and soon, as my sisters said, everyone will see you as the beast you are.”
She then handed the Prince the single rose she had tried to give him earlier. “And since you would not take this token of love from the woman you professed to cherish, let it then be a symbol of your doom!”
“Your doom!” Martha said, laughing while she clapped her little white hands and hopped in her tiny boots with absolute glee.
“Your doom!” joined Ruby and Lucinda, also jumping up and down, making the scene even more confusing and macabre.
“Sisters!” Circe pleaded. “I am not finished!”
She continued, “As the rose petals fall, so shall the years pass until your twenty-first birthday. If you have not found love—true love, both given and received—by that day, and sealed with a kiss, then you shall remain the horrifying creature you’ll become.”