As Old As Time

by Liz Braswell

“You have until the eve of your twenty-first birthday to become as beautiful on the inside as you were on the outside. If you do not learn to love another—and be loved in return—by the time the last petal of this rose falls, you, your castle, and all within, will be cursed and forgotten forever.”

While the rest of the world was fighting for control of new lands across the seas, inventing ever more deadly weapons, and generously gifting their own religion to foreign people who didn’t want it, this kingdom just splendidly was.

“It was two boys fighting over a girl,” Alaric pointed out patiently. “It happens all the time. Boys die over that sort of thing in normal duels. This one just happened to involve magic. You can’t get all worked up about it.”

Plus he felt he could fix her. Make her normal. His overwhelming masculinity and presence would exorcise her desire to read and think and be alone.

As soon as she opened a book, this little town disappeared into a vast map of countries both real and imagined.

“You can’t have adventures without risk. You can’t have great things if you constantly fear loss.

“Magic always comes back on itself,” Rosalind whispered. “And also kindness,” Maurice pointed out.

When other children dreamed of mansions with fountains and big silky beds and servants to do their bidding, this was what Belle dreamed about. The money to buy all the books she ever wanted from all over the world—and a place to keep them.

“They didn’t protect my people—their people. Their subjects. There are repercussions for actions. Magic comes back to you, just as the actions of people do. The bigger the person, the more their actions affect the world. If they live, perhaps they will learn that.” “And if everyone dies, no one learns anything,” he pointed out gently.

Were all of these things once animated, like the teapot and clock? Had they been lively and talkative, moving and adorable—but were now stilled in a strange death?

“Books can tell you almost everything that mankind knows. Or imagines,”

Reading them is like traveling to other places. Being other people. Living other lives. It made life far less…sad and lonely for me.”

“A man with a soul, trapped in this unforgivable clockwork prison.”

Life is a strange mixture of all of these genres, she mused, and it doesn’t have nearly as neat and happy an ending as you often get in books.

But she wasn’t used to having backup; of all the many resources her prodigious mind was capable of accessing, help wasn’t one of them. She was used to doing things on her own.

Also, the Prince had never asked for help before. Anytime. Anywhere. As beast or prince. He ordered people, he demanded of people, he made sure people anticipated his wishes before he even had to vocalize them.

“Well, his books are dangerous!” Gaston persisted. “They turned you into what you are—a foolish girl who doesn’t want to marry me! Me, Gaston! Every girl in the village wants to marry me! And, also, they’re a fire hazard….”

Everyone is different. Each person has his or her own soul and is master of his or her own destiny.”

I was full of power and empty of wisdom. And now it’s the reverse…I am empty of power and am just beginning to have the faintest traces of wisdom.”

Everyone should have a journey—and everyone should also have a home, too. Go out into the world for adventure, come home for love.”