Chapter 4

It was nearly sunset when Belle finished wrapping up the boy's chest in clean bandages. He had suffered a stab wound in the shoulder and it had gotten infected, but he didn't know that. He just knew it hurt. Belle could see the darkened skin around the puncture site that had recently spread up the side of his neck. His face was pale and sweaty, and his glassy eyes sought out Belle's.

"I'm dying, aren't I?"

Belle looked into his eyes and saw him hoping. She could not tell whether he hoped to survive or whether he hoped that the pain would end soon with death.

"Yes, sweet one. But we're all dying, very slowly." She tried being honest.

The boy was silent. He seemed too tired to shift to look out the window at the red sky and orange clouds, but he tried anyway.

"Da says when people die, they go to a great feast in the sky." His voice cracked on the last word. "He said me mum's there, and me grand-da. And little baby Aerin," he said, remembering.

Belle held his hand. "My father said the same thing. He said in the castle in the sky, kings and countrymen all eat together, then battle, then sleep. And in the morning, it starts all over again. What do you think of that?"

He shifted back to look at her. "I think I'm done with fighting. It's…not as good as they said it would be," he said, barely a whisper.

"But in the sky, there is no pain," Belle disagreed. "You'll live another day, and never hurt anymore. And you'll be with your family. Your ma, your grand-da…"

"My sister," he finished weakly

"Yes," Belle agreed. She saw that he was fading. "You'll see them all soon. They're so excited to see you again."

His grip loosened, and Belle could hold back her tears no longer. She let them fall.

"Jaeson?" she said, hoping for a response. His eyes were stuck on a spot above Belle's head. "Jaeson?" She tried again. His chest had stopped its motions and he lay stiller than any living person should. "Oh no, please…" Belle murmured, not even realizing that she was speaking. She checked his neck for a pulse, put her ear to his chest in vain. She stayed there for a moment. He tried so hard, but he was gone. It wasn't fair.

"He's gone, dearie," a low voice behind her said. Rumpelstiltskin stepped out of the shadows. Belle sat up and tried to wipe her face dry with her sleeves.

"He was only thirteen," she mourned, looking into the boy's frozen face.

"He will be the last," the man said. He stepped behind her and closed the boy's eyes with two fingers. "I promise." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and it felt almost comforting.

Belle's emotions were spent. She had no energy left to resent this creature for taking her from her home, and not even enough to hate the ogres who had killed the boy. She sat, dejected, holding Jaeson's hand.

"Perhaps you'd better change," Rumpelstiltskin hinted. Belle looked down at her dress and remembered herself.

"Oh, yes," she said, standing up. "I've packed two trunks, I hope you don't mind. The only wedding dress I have is my mother's, it's yellow…"

"No matter to me," he said, waving his hand as if to swat away pesky ideas like packing and dresses.

"I—I'll meet you in the Great Hall in half an hour." Belle stated. She left the room in a hurry, realizing that if she wasn't ready soon he could rescind his offer.

Emmeline had been hard at work since Belle left. She had finished packing the linens, and she had even retrieved Belle's favorite toys from when she was a little girl. A stuffed bear whose button eyes were falling off, a silver rattle, and a porcelain doll with red hair. Emmeline knew the woman whose hair it belonged to. She had been a servant in the kitchens at the time, only sixteen years old when she got pregnant. She had sold her hair to a tinker to try and save up for a place to live, maybe take a room in an inn and be a barmaid. She had died on the birthing bed, but the baby had been adopted by a family in town. Emmeline sighed. You never know where a woman will end up. With men it was easy, they would either follow their fathers into court or in a church, or they would be no-good layabouts and wanderers. Or worse, minstrels.

Emmeline rushed about the castle, enlisting the help of everyone she could find to help make Belle's wedding as happy as it could be, under the circumstances. By the end, half of the castle pulled together to decorate the Great Hall for their beloved princess. Men had moved pews from the chapel storage and arranged them in rows with an aisle in between. They realized that there would be more people attending than who could fit in the pews, so they called a massive effort to gather as many of the chairs and benches in the castle as they could into the Great Hall. They tried their best to make neat rows, but considering the different shapes and sizes of the chairs, it didn't look as perfect as they wanted.

The women set to decorating, using a table for an altar and taking the best rugs out of storage. A long, narrow rug was set down for the aisle, and the head butler sent up one of the finest wines they had for the ceremony. The children were sent outside—but not too far—to collect as many flowers as they could. The older girls set the younger ones to pulling the petals off daisies to scatter down the aisle, and argued over who would be the princess' flower girl. The maids gathered bundles of flowers (they could hardly be called bouquets) and hung them on the walls to seem festive. The altar was quickly covered by flowers and herbs that were said to bring luck and fertility to a marriage.

By sunset, the Great Hall had become a grand reception hall, not quite fit for a princess' wedding but still impressive. Candles were placed around the room to produce an ethereal glow, and two goblets of red wine sat on the altar. Everyone in the castle of some rank took seats at the front of the room in the pews, and everyone else who could fit sat in the rows of chairs or stood against the wall. All they were missing were the bride and groom.

Twenty minutes after seeing Rumpelstiltskin in the infirmary, Belle stood in the Great Hall. Her yellow ball gown was barely being held up by her body. Her mother's shoulders had been broader than her own, so the sleeves slipped down the sides of her arms in what Belle hoped was an appropriate way. One of her handmaidens passed her a bouquet of flowers—gladiolus and lavender—and the doors to the Great Hall opened. She was greeted with a truly beautiful sight. The hall had darkened without the sunlight, but the candles around the room twinkled like fireflies and made the flowers seem like they glowed. She walked up the makeshift aisle to her future husband, making eye contact not with him but with the people in the crowd who she knew had helped. She smiled at her father in the front pew, and Emmeline standing to the side next to the holy men who were witnessing. She noticed the Marquise looking pleased with himself for something—oh, he was sitting next to Rosalind, a servant girl whose generous chest was barely covered by her dress. That would explain it. She made eye contact with her friends in court, the few women who had been friendly to her while they embroidered together to pass the time in winters, and her father's counselors who had recommended books to her. They smiled back encouragingly, thanking her for what she was about to do. Her radiant smile was not one of a bride-to-be, but of a person who had just received the best present of her life. Her wedding was beautiful.

She took her place at Rumpelstiltskin's left side and handed off her bouquet to Emmeline, her witness. She turned to face the groom, who locked eyes with her. It seemed he was daring her to continue. He offered his right hand, which she took in her own. He then produced a gold ribbon out of thin air and held it next to their clasped hands. Belle reached beneath their hands to grab the end of the ribbon and, with Rumpelstiltskin, tied a simple knot together. Their first action as a couple. Despite her apparent calmness, Belle felt like she was shaking all over as she said the words.

"I, Belle," she began nervously, "consent and gladly give myself to thee, Rumpelstiltskin, to be your wedded wife, till death do us part."

Rumpelstiltskin's eyes showed his surprise at her quick and clear voice saying the vows, and then echoed her words, his voice deeper and resounding through the room.

"I, Rumpelstiltskin, take thee, Belle, to be my wedded wife, till death do us part."

He then leaned forward to kiss her. She leaned too, and met his lips with…the left corner of her lips.

She missed. Her very first kiss, and Belle missed! She pulled back for a moment. Then, ignoring the confusion in his eyes, Belle leaned her head forward and kissed him again. On target, this time, hurrah!

He pulled back, and so did she, a blush spreading across her cheeks. Suddenly the room felt overcrowded. So many people, people she'd known for as long as she could remember, just saw her first blundering kiss, and it would be their last memory of her.

Someone broke the silence. "To Rumpelstiltskin and his bride!"

Cheers filled the hall, somewhat halfhearted but at least it wasn't silent. Belle and Rumpelstiltskin dropped their hands, but Belle held on to the golden ribbon. They each picked up a goblet of wine and drank through their linked arms, as was custom. The crowd cheered louder for the love of their princess. The people celebrated the best way they knew how: by getting drunk. Cups of wine and ale were being passed around, and Belle looked around the room at all of the people she loved. She saw her father (who had clearly started drinking early), and the unfortunate page who was chosen to be his babysitter for the night. Gaston stood leaning against the wall, his eyes trying to convey all that he felt toward her situation. She could see sorrow for her marriage, and best wishes for her future.

Rumpelstiltskin, upon noticing this silent exchange, decided that that was enough.

"Marvelous!" he clapped. "Best wedding I've had yet. We must be going, busy night ahead of us!" He said with a wink. Belle guessed there were about to poof away.

"Goodbye!" she cried, and they were gone.