Chapter Three – The Library
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The very next day I found myself in the library, attempting to entertain myself while the rain pelted down outside. I hadn't seen Gaston since he had left with Cogsworth the previous evening, and I wondered if the planning of his name day celebration had taken him and his father into early hours, as neither had been at the breakfast table that morning either.
The meal was good, and I had to admit to myself how much I had missed Mrs Potts' cooking while I had been away. Foreign cuisine was exotic and exciting, and the cooks in my own castle had been adequate, but there was just something about that woman's food. It was as though you could taste how much care had gone into each meal, and it wasn't surprising seeing as she was a very caring person. Another thing that had not changed. I wondered if everything was still the same as it had been before I left. I detected subtle changes in Gaston, but at his core, he was still exactly the same; arrogant, narcissistic and boastful. His attitude with his squire the day before made me snicker into the book I was attempting to read. I was glad so little had changed but was not exactly looking forward to throwing myself into the same routine that had been my life three years ago. I was already missing the excitement of being abroad and hoped that staying in this castle would entertain me until I had to go back home.
So I was not entirely surprised to find myself completely and utterly bored.
With my friend missing, and the autumn weather beating down outside, I was left to find something else to amuse myself with and was so completely desperate for any kind of amusement, I had actually come in here; the library.
I hadn't spent much time in here as a boy. When Gaston and I used to take lessons together, our tutor would drag us in here, hoping the surroundings would motivate us into focusing on our studies. It hadn't. It really really hadn't. No, as boys Gaston and I had had little patience for studying, preferring instead the activity training more suitable for young men; such as horse riding, shooting and sword fighting. We had learned our good-hearted competitiveness from our fathers and had worked hard to impress them. Neither of them had been very affectionate men, but we had each earned praise for our many athletic abilities.
But times had changed. I now had a stack of papers from my councilmen I knew I should have been addressing, but could not even begin to work up the nerve for that yet. Unlike Gaston, I did not have my father around to deal with such matters anymore, and with my coronation less than a year away, I was expected to participate in at least some of the decision making. It was why I had been called back after all. But I simply could not bring myself to. The daunting stacks of letters were currently sitting on a desk in my very comfortable guest suite; untouched. With nothing else to do, I knew I should have at least been attempting to tackle them, but instead, I was hiding from them, in a library no less, trying to absorb myself in some classic literary novel... and failing.
I yawned shamelessly, and then finally stood to place the useless book back in the stacks I had retrieved it, resolving myself to leave and find something, anything, to do; when the library doors opened. I looked over at them from my place high up on the second level and froze. There was the girl again.
Before I could rationalise my own actions, I'd quickly retreated behind the stacks, keeping the door and the girl firmly in view while I stood concealed. I had never hidden from anyone in my life, but I told myself that I simply wanted to observe the girl without interruption this time.
She was wearing a humble green day dress that reached to her ankles and darkened in shade around her bust. Her hair was pulled lazily back from her face at the nape of her neck, and she wore simple black shoes. Amazing, how she made such wholesome attire look so enticing. She moved leisurely about the library, practically prancing to a bookshelf to the far left as though she knew the large room inside and out. I kept myself concealed, no idea why I was spying on the girl like I did not have a right to be there myself. What was she even doing here? Didn't she have chores to do or something? I couldn't exactly list the number of different servants there was for different things - having never paid much attention to matters of the help - but surely, at almost midday, this girl should be doing... something? But no, she simply moved towards the imposing bookshelf, skimmed her fingers leisurely over the perfect spines and finally, slotted in a book I hadn't even noticed she was holding, all the while with a peaceful smile on her face I could clearly see from all the way up here.
That's when I realised, that this girl, she was... odd. I had never in my life seen someone look at books the way she was doing now. I had been taught to appreciate literature, of course I had, but when the girl moved about the room, taking her time, scanning her eyes over each of the spines with such thoughtful consideration, she did so with such reverence she might have been witnessing a famous theatre performance or grand orchestra, instead of being stuck in a barely used library on a rainy day. I had retreated here out of boredom, but it would appear I was the only one to do so. The girl even appeared beautiful while she was thinking, her teeth playing over her plump pink lower lip in a way that almost made me groan aloud. She wasn't the only one who wanted to bite that lip.
I watched with a kind of morbid curiosity as the girl pulled one of the wooden ladders over to the other side of the library, and then began to climb the wooden polls to the higher stacks with such ease one would think she did this every day!
I wanted to yell out for her to be careful, but she seemed completely in her element as she climbed eight paces and reached out her arm for a book she must have known was there because her actions were far too specific to be random. She must have known this library quite well to know which book lie where; there were thousands in here!
Finally pulling a book away from its confines, she held the thing carefully to her chest before gingerly climbing back down again.
It was odd that I would be so enthralled with such a mediocre task, for I had witnessed far greater acts of bravery than someone climbing up a ladder, but I couldn't help my smile. Perhaps it was simply because the women I normally surrounded myself with had many others who simply did things like that for them. I couldn't think of one single woman I had ever grown close to who would risk themselves climbing up a ladder, even a small ladder. But it would appear this girl liked books enough to take the risk, for she held the one to her chest as though it were the most precious thing in the world.
Now that I thought about it though, this library did seem a lot more... used. Far cleaner, lighter and more organised than I remembered it. It was a grand room; of course, it was, for a castle of this size and a family of wealth, how could it not be? But it was still mostly unused from what I could remember from before I left. When Gaston and I used to get dragged in here, the curtains were always kept closed, even on bright sunny days, as our tutor did not wish for us to get 'distracted' by the outside world. We had been forced to study for hours by only the light of a few sparsely lit candelabras, one of the many reasons we had given the old bat such a hard time as kids. I had practically sobbed in relief the day I had learned that the wrinkled old woman was moving out of the castle to teach another family's children, once Gaston and I had reached the capable age to 'study' on our own. But aside from her, I knew no one else who ever made regular use of this room, and was expecting to find it in the same dreary state it had always been when I had walked in this morning. But instead... no.
The curtains were wide open, sadly exposing the gloomy, stormy day, but still, shun a brighter light than any candle and made the room feel far more open. The gold and green marble floors had been waxed, the dark wood tables polished and the books and bookshelves dust free and organised perfectly. The old chairs that sat by the fireplace even looked like they had been put to good use lately. Hmm, perhaps this was the girl's job then, to keep the library in order? But she didn't look as though she were ready to clean or organise anything, she simply took the book she had in hand and moved towards the exact same well-worn faded green chairs I had noticed before, directly underneath where I stood; hiding. In order to keep the girl in view, I silently ducked down and hid behind the wooden bannister, unable to explain, even to myself what on earth I was even doing. Crouching behind the wooden frames of the bannister directly above the library's fireplace, I could see the girl plainly. I watched her sit herself down, pull her feet up underneath her and open the book, resting it on the chair's armrest as she began to read.
I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. What was I even doing, spying on some servant girl? I was a prince, and yet I was hiding up here ogling her like some kind of unsophisticated voyeur. Perhaps it was simply the way she looked whilst she was reading that book. From the angle I could see her now, only a small part of her face was visible to me, but from the small portion I could see, she looked so focused on the printed words that it felt like I was intruding on an extremely intimate moment. And now I didn't know what to do with myself. If I revealed myself now, she would know I had been watching her. For surely she would have noticed me up here if I hadn't been hiding, I being the only other person occupying the large room. But so what if she did? I asked myself scoldingly. I was a guest here, a royal guest, and she was just some... girl. A beautiful girl, but a girl nonetheless. What did it matter what she thought of me?
It doesn't, I reasoned, nodding my head in confirmation. Let her think what she wants, why should I care? Resolute, and determined to prove myself right, I was just about to stand when the library double doors swung open once more.
"I might have guessed I'd find you in here!" Came a familiar booming voice from the doorway. Quickly shrinking back down again, I saw the girl jump from her seat as though she had been prodded with a branding iron. For the briefest of moments, I saw a flash of fear on the girl's face, before she turned to face the intruder at the door, and away from me.
"B-Bonjour Gaston." The girl greeted shakily, curtsying. I realised this was the first time I was hearing her speak, and found her voice to be quite pleasing. Only the slight stutter as she said my friend's name ruined the sweet pitch of her words.
Gaston literally swaggered towards the girl, a familiar smirk prominent on his face as he approached her. I didn't want to spy on my friend, but if I revealed myself now, he would know I was spying on her, and there was no way I would ever be able to live that down, especially since I had, in so many words, surrendered to his claim on the girl. I had already decided I wasn't going to pursue her, as I had practically every other pretty woman who had ever crossed my path, and I didn't think he'd view my voyeuristic behaviour as 'backing off.'
Gaston moved to stand before the girl, quite literally towering over her as he was a head and a half her size. I watched him lift his hand to her face, and stroke his fingers over her left cheek. I couldn't tell for certain from my limited aerial view, but I was sure the girl tensed.
"And whatever might you be doing in here, my beauty?" He asked, though his sharp tone revealed he knew exactly what she was doing, and for some reason, took issue with it.
"I-I'm sorry Gaston. I woke up early this morning and you were still asleep. I just thought, since you didn't need me, I might spend some time in here. Just for a little while." She stammered. How strange, that she sounded as though she were pleading.
Gaston did not remove his hand from her face, instead, he leant towards her and murmured, so quietly I had to strain myself to hear him; "You could have stayed and laid beside me, you know?" Then his smirk melted away, and in its place a hardened glare as he straightened, moving his hand from her cheek to tightly grasp her chin. "But no. You still prefer the company of all these dusty old books than to me." He accused coldly, his tone almost daring her to say otherwise.
I couldn't see the girl's face, but it would appear she had opted for silence. After a moment, Gaston grunted, releasing his grip on her. She took a small step back, an action that was clearly caught by Gaston's narrowed blue eyes.
The frown on my face deepened; was this girl... afraid of Gaston?
I had never seen them interact together, but she did seem wary of him. Yesterday, whilst serving him drinks, she had appeared the same. Her shoulders had tensed every time they touched like... like touching was the last thing she wanted to do.
I shook my head. I had to be imagining it. There was no way Gaston would ever force a girl into anything. And why would he even need to? We were royalty; women threw themselves at us daily. Why would this girl be any different?
But wary or not, the girl's actions seemed to amuse Gaston, for his smirk slowly returned as he dragged his eyes up and down her body, settling on her chest. I thought he might be staring at the obvious, but before I could roll my eyes at his boyish behaviour, Gaston asked, mockingly inquisitive; "And what do we have here?"
Then I remembered the girl was still holding the book she had been reading before. Straining my neck to keep the pair of them in sight without revealing myself, I saw the girl had her arms folded over her chest, cuddling the book to her as though it were a security blanket.
Gaston's grin only grew as he held out his hand before him, his expectations clear. I watched the girl hesitantly, reluctantly, unwind her arms and place the book into Gaston's waiting palm. He opened it immediately, flicking through the pages in obvious disinterest.
"How can you even read this? There aren't even any pictures." He tsked in displeasure.
Now that made me bite my lip to keep in a laugh. Same old Gaston; never met a book worth reading.
"I've told you before, some books don't need pictures. You only have to use your imagination." She told him, a little confidence seeping through her guarded tone.
Gaston scoffed again, and I nearly mirrored his sentiment. Imagination; what was the point in that? We lived lives of grandeur and wealth. People spent their lives imagining being like us. Wishing they were us. Did she truly not understand that? This girl really was strange.
"Belle, my dear, when are you going to get your head out of these books and concentrate on more important things? Like me." He demanded.
The girl's face was still hidden, but I heard her let out a tiny little sigh. They had clearly had this conversation, or something close to it, many times before. But instead of reproaching him as an equal would, or prostrating like a servant should, the girl seemed to straighten her back and raise her head more assertively than before. Well, perhaps assertive was the wrong word, from what little I could see of her, the girl looked like she was preparing herself.
"I apologise Gaston. Was there something that you wanted?" The girl – Belle, I mentally corrected – asked him politely. Amazing how she could sound resigned and sincere all at once. What an interesting couple these two made. Watching them together was like watching two people perform two different dances on the same stage. I knew next to nothing about this girl, and yet, I could already tell she wasn't the type of woman Gaston would normally go for. She seemed intelligent, and she clearly liked reading. She also didn't sound at all like she was eager to bow at Gaston's feet as many other girls had been, despite the fact that she had basically offered to do just that.
This mystery just kept getting more intriguing.
Gaston threw his shoulders back, posturing proudly.
"As a matter of fact, there is." He replied, and without further comment, slipped the small blue book into his inner jacket pocket.
"Gaston, may I have my book please?" She requested, though there was a certain level of desperation lacing her tone that confused me. Besides, it wasn't really her book. She had taken it off the library shelf. It was more his book than hers.
Gaston brought his hands together and touched his forefingers to his lips in sarcastic contemplation. "Hmm, I'm not so sure you deserve to have it back Belle. You didn't ask permission to come in here after all. Perhaps losing the book will be a good enough lesson in obedience for you." He reprimanded her, flashing his sparkling teeth in a full grin.
Belle held up her hands beseechingly to him, her tone laced with panic; "please Gaston, don't take it! I'm sorry! You were still asleep when I woke up and it was raining outside and the house-staff was busy and I just came in here for something to do. I should have asked you first, I know. Please, I won't do it again! Just don't take my book, it's my favourite! Please?"
Wow. I had never heard anyone beg so much for a book before.
The smirk never left Gaston's face, and I did think it rather unsavoury of my friend to dangle something so obviously meaningful to the girl above her head like this. We had played similar games as children, mostly picking on Lafou in the same way, keeping something he desired away from him, knowing he couldn't and wouldn't do a thing to stop us. But we weren't kids anymore, and with the way the girl was pleading, it did seem rather... cruel. I had found Lefou's cowering before my old friend amusing yesterday afternoon, but on this girl, I didn't know, cowering just didn't seem to suit her.
Gaston let out an exaggerated sigh, before looking down upon the girl with fake compassion, and exclaiming. "I might be persuaded to give the book back, if..." He trailed off.
"If what?" She demanded resignedly.
"If you kiss me."
Hmm, that was a simple enough request I supposed. Judging by Gaston's earlier words, I would guess they had already been intimate before, so why should a kiss even matter. I still couldn't see the girl's face, but I watched in fascination as her whole body went tense like... like the thought of kissing him was... unpleasant.
Other girls would kill their husbands for the chance to be kissed by a prince.
Seriously, what was going on?
They stood apart for several more moments, in silence, before the girl's shoulders sank. She took a hesitant step closer to him - so all I could see of her was her back – and with Gaston watching her like a hawk, did she raise herself up on her tiptoes to place her lips on his.
He looked like he was smiling as he began to kiss her back, his arm snaking around her back as he pulled her closer. His other hand snuck into her hair and pulled the green ribbon tying the back of her hair free, letting it fall to the ground as he crushed the brunette strains in his fist and deepened the kiss, practically ravaging her mouth with his own.
And now I felt like a complete pervert. I was watching my friend passionately kiss a girl, and for some reason, I just couldn't pry my eyes away. He looked as though he was crushing the poor girl's small body as he held her close to him, attacking her lips as he loudly groaned. And I couldn't be entirely certain, but as my eyes refused to look away, I couldn't help but notice that the girl did not look like a girl who wanted to be kissed. Her back was tense and her legs were dangling just above the ground, straight and rigid. Her body looked locked as Gaston continued displaying his passion, though it seemed clear to everyone but him that he was the only one enjoying it. But, how funny, that the girl did appear to be kissing him back. Why kiss someone if you didn't enjoy doing it? And why wouldn't she enjoy it in the first place?
Unable to continue spying on such an intimate moment, I averted my eyes until the light smacking sounds finally ceased. Gaston released the girl, sighing loudly in contentment as she staggered back a few paces, almost knocking into the faded red chair she had been sat on before. Gaston gave a small chuckle at her dishevelled appearance, and crossed his arms over his chest arrogantly, looking completely fine as the girl panted and struggled to regain her breath.
"Now that was a kiss." He complemented with a toothy grin; though, really, it sounded more like he was boasting then praising. I watched him lean forward and place his lips to her cheek. Then, just as suddenly, turn on his heel back towards the library door.
"Wait!" Belle cried after him, hurrying to catch up. I breathed a sigh of relief that I no longer had to strain my neck to see them both. They were now perfectly in view as Belle ran up to Gaston - her lovely long hair freely flying behind her back - and placed her hand on his arm. He turned to face her, his eyes soaking in her every movement like watching her was his greatest pleasure.
"May I have my book now please?" She asked breathlessly, humbly. Her lovely face flushed with an attractive red blush.
Gaston chuckled, his loud baritone bouncing around the wide open room. My forehead puckered at Gaston's behaviour. She had given him what he had asked for. We were nothing if our word meant nothing. Nothing without our honour.
"You may... later on tonight." He told her. She opened her mouth as though to protest, and Gaston swooped down and recaptured her perfect lips before she could make a sound. It was a short, hard kiss judging by the scrunched appearance of the girl's face. He released her just as quickly, and said something close to her ear that I could not hear before swaggering back out the room, leaving the girl without her book... alone. Well, almost alone.
Belle slumped, literally collapsed into herself as though she had been holding the same posture for hours. I had no idea what Gaston had whispered in her ear, but whatever it was, judging by her squinted eyes and lifeless posture, the girl looked as though she were about to cry.
I couldn't fathom why, he had only taken a book after all, and this room was filled with others, but as she brought her hand to rub at her eyes as though attempting to keep the tears at bay, I found the sight quite... displeasing. She stood there for several more moments, composing herself, before she approached the door and quietly exited the room, leaving me behind.
What a strange relationship my friend seemed to have with this servant girl. If she even was a servant at all. I had seen her in three different settings now, and twice she hadn't even been wearing servant attire. And while she was pleading with Gaston, she had said 'house-staff' as though she did not belong to that category. So… what exactly was she? Did she serve the castle or was she free to do as she pleased? Or did she serve the prince, and because of that, she was free to do as she pleased.
Well, one thing was for sure, and that was the fact that she did not seem to enjoy Gaston's affections the way most women did. So, again I asked myself... who is this girl?
