Hello and welcome to a just Melissa.

On this episode, I'm going to be telling you the story of Bluebeard.

In every century there are whispers of a man.

A man whose wealth glitters brighter than his soul is dark.

They call him blue beard. Some say he was born beneath an eclipse. His beard marked blue by the devil's touch.

Others say it was no color of nature at all, but a stain left by sin itself. Whatever the truth, all who loved him

vanished. He came one autumn afternoon to the house of a noble widow and her two daughters,

the elder, fair and cautious, the younger curious, with a heart too quick to forgive, and eyes too quick to trust.

Good day, my lady. I've long admired the grace of your household. Might I be permitted a visit?

Why, of course, my lord, my daughters and I are honored. No one dared refuse a man so powerful. That week,

he showered them with gifts, rings of ruby, mirrors framed in gold, gowns softer than prayer.

And by the seventh night, the younger daughter Marie began to think his beard was not so frightful,

that perhaps he was merely misunderstood.

And when he asked for her hand, her voice trembled, but she said yes.

The wedding was swift, the feast magnificent.

But beneath the perfume and candlelight, the air felt wrong, too quiet, too heavy.

Bluebeard smiled, yet never laughed.

He watched her as though weighing her soul.

That night she dreamt of locked doors, of whispers behind them,

soft, pleading whispers, that turned to screams.

My dear wife, I must leave at once.

Affairs of the State.

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