Roar - Goldilocks Retold

ONE Berehaven would be a much pleasanter place if it weren't for her family, Ursula thought as she tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. She kept thinking she heard the scratch of mice again. Had she missed one? Probably. Her brothers had kept them in the chest containing her best clothes, knowing it was the most secure place to breed mice, far from the prying eyes of their nurse. Especially as there would be no feast days until midwinter. Of course, the boys hadn't considered that Ursula was a woman now, old enough to be betrothed and married, and the presence of Lord Vauquelin's envoy in the castle meant she would have to present herself in her best gowns, night after night, until the feasting and negotiations for her wedding to whoever Father decided she would marry were concluded. Never mind that she'd never met her prospective husband, or that she never wanted to leave the shelter of Berehaven. The Bere River came down from the mountains, pure and clear as the ice that fed it, carving their valley and the fertile fields into a slice of heaven, nestled up against the mountains. But she was a dutiful daughter, however grudgingly, and Ursula had sought a new gown to air for tomorrow night, only to discover the hems of every single one chewed to ribbons. Further investigation had revealed a chess set that she knew belonged to her brothers, but inside it there were no chess men to be seen. Just a mouse and her litter of pink newborns, in a nest of strips torn off her dresses. As a good lady should, she took the problem to the source. Her brothers' chamber was off the passage below her tower, and she'd laid the chess set and a destroyed gown on Gidie's bed before demanding an explanation. Gidie had just stared at the items on his bed in horror, so it was Eudes who had told her the story, claiming it as his idea. The boys had wanted to breed mice to bait a trap for the golden eagle who lived in the crags upon the mountain. If they could catch the eagle, they could train it to hunt for them, bringing in fresh meat all winter once the ice had closed the passes and isolated the valley until spring. She might have lost her temper at that point. Perhaps a little. And her voice may have been a little louder than it should have been, telling them how foolish their idea truly was. Loud enough so that Father had heard, and Baron Orson had not been pleased to find his two youngest sons squeaking on the floor, transformed into terrified mice, while his only daughter stood over them with her arms folded, insisting they apologise before she'd change them back into boys again. At Father's insistence, she'd changed the boys back, expecting to see them punished properly. Instead, her father had then seized her arm and escorted her back to her own rooms at the top of the maidens' tower, before unleashing a torrent of words that echoed in her head, even now, hours after he'd uttered them. "That is the last time I ever want to see you practice magic," he'd said. "Do you know who is in this castle, at this very moment? An envoy from Lord Vauquelin himself, asking for your hand. A marriage alliance with one of his sons would ensure peace with our neighbours for a generation, so that when it is my time, your brother Geoffrey will not have to worry about attacks from anywhere, for Vauquelin is the power in these parts. He is asking for an enormous dowry, oaths of allegiance...all manner of things, for allowing you the honour of marrying into Vauquelin's family. I have told him you will be a perfect wife, meek and obedient in all things...but if he has heard any of this, he may leave tonight and find another, more suitable bride for his lord's son. Instead of peace, we will have war, for without an alliance, Vauquelin will conquer us before King Siward can come to our aid. We are a small barony, but we have been loyal to King Almos even when we had no contact with him through the Wall, and after fifty years, our loyalty is about to be rewarded by his successor. King Siward has promised all trade shall pass through our valley just as it once did, but only if we can protect the trade route. If this alliance fails, we will be forced to fight, and many of our people will die to defend what is ours. And their blood will be on your hands." Ill though it had sat with her, Ursula had vowed to do no more magic, ever, if it would place Berehaven in danger. She'd have to marry someone, eventually, and at least one of Lord Vauquelin's sons could afford to buy her nice gowns. He'd be a man, and, like all men, her father and brothers included, he'd care only for war and honour and position and, occasionally, hunting. Violence and status. She wouldn't be expected to see him more than a few times a year, as he went off to lead armies or hunt bears or whatever it was men filled their days with to make themselves feel important, so it was best that she choose a husband who would help her protect what she loved most – Berehaven. Even if her marriage meant banishment from Berehaven forever. But if something were to happen to her brothers...turned into mice, perhaps...she would inherit Berehaven one day. She was Father's first born, after all. Before Eudes, Gidie or even Geoffrey, it had been just Ursula and her mother and father, and they'd shared this tower room when her grandfather was alive. Father's and mother's chairs still sat by the wall, beside the tiny stool she'd once sat upon to listen to her mother's stories. Oh, stories where princesses married for love, or defeated monsters, and lived happily ever after. Ursula smiled into the dark at the fantasy, but it didn't last long. She might not like her brothers, or even her father much at the moment, but her father and then Geoffrey would do what was best for Berehaven. And so would she, even if it broke her heart to leave. If only the world were different, and it didn't have to be that way. Where the eldest daughter might inherit as readily as a son, and a woman could choose her own fate, and her own home. She might as well wish for the ability to fly, like the eagle that had inspired her brothers to destroy her best dresses. What a world that would be. Another scraping sound jerked her out of her reverie. It sounded too big to be a mouse. A rat, maybe? Or a cat trying to catch the mice. Ursula settled deeper under her blankets, waiting for the panicked squeaking then silence as the cat claimed its victory.