To Love a Beast

Flynn glanced at the apple, and slowly took it in his hand. He took a bite and chewed for a moment before setting it down. There was a long pause until finally Flynn spoke. "Do you want me in the garden now." He looked at her for a moment, with a blank stare. Flynn truly felt his life had met it's end. He was a slave to a woman whom did not seem that caring. He did not know why, and probably would never understand why. His first impression of her was sour, and because of this, Flynn couldn't begin to think any pleasant. However, as he did stare at her, he did notice that she was quite beautiful. Her complexion and hair were elegant. It was about the only reason he continued to gaze upon her.
 
Her visible eye looked up from her plate to Flynn. She tapped her fingers on the table a couple of time, staring at his red eyes. They were her favorite color, the color of her precious roses. "Yes. To the garden. You will be assisting Mr. Winters, Henry, and Bosco with the storm clean-up. Depending on Mr. Winter's report on your job I will decide what duties you will be given." She resumed her breakfast and waved her servants off. "Mrs. Winters, please do tell the chef to have lunch prepared by precisely noon today. He was a whole half hour late and it made my stomach ache..." She continued to give orders as Flynn was instructed to follow the men to the garden. She paused her instructions to look over to the men leaving, "Just a moment. Bosco see to it that Flynn is given gloves and a coat. If he gets sick then he will be of no use to me or the castle." She then shooed them off.
 
Flynn was finishing putting the final glove on once they arrived in the garden. Mr. Winters was already at work, and the other two stood near Flynn. When Mr. Winters noticed Flynn he handed him a small bag. "You can collect some of the debris and place it in here." Flynn took the bag and did as he was told. There were some pieces of rubble lazily laying around some of the flowers. When he came to the roses, Flynn stared at them for a moment. They were almost exactly his eye color. His mother had told him he was conceived on a bed of Roses. A rather different way of birthing, and this is why she believed his eyes were red. They weren't threatening, not always. The red was bright and almost relaxing. Flynn had soon collected all the debris he could find. Mr Winters told him where to place the bag and he did so. "I suppose that will do, nice work Flynn. I don't know what Amelia will have you do next. You could venture in and ask. Just make sure she knows your coming." Flynn nodded and was off at once, not wanting to lurk around.
 
Amelia was her study, listening to some beautiful music on her phonograph. She sat on a tall stool in front of a large easel donning an apron. The sleeves on her dress were rolled back and her hair in a bun. On a beautiful cherry wood table in the center of the room sat the bouquet of roses. She was painting a still life of them along with a slightly open jewelry box made of silver with a pearl necklace draping out of it. There was a knock on the door followed by a voice. "My Lady, Flynn has been sent by Mr. Winters to see you." She sighted and continued to paint. "Very well, send him in." Amelia brushed her bangs to cover her eye and continued to her work.
 
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