Chapter Ten - Confusion
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I was furious! I did not know where to direct my anger or have any idea how to get it out of me, so it festered and spoiled in my bones as I paced my bedchamber in agitation.
How dare she!
Who did that girl think she was, talking to me like that? All my life, the only woman who had ever dared disrespect me so was my mother. To be screamed at and pushed by a mere servant, a wench? It was unthinkable!
I had been pacing and fuming for days now, trying to expel my anger, trying to make this seething rage evaporate as it normally did after a few stiff drinks, but nothing was working. A malicious part of me thought to find the girl, grab her by her hair and drag her before the king, demanding she be turned out of the castle, but every time I went towards the door to follow through with my plan, something stopped me.
I had attended dinner that same night and had seen her waiting on Gaston, though this time she was wearing far more appropriate attire thank goodness. I couldn't even bring myself to look at her, so angry I was. I wanted to get her into trouble, for the way she had treated me, but at the same time did not wish to draw attention to what had transpired between us. It wasn't that I was afraid to be turned out of the house, as she had threatened, it was far more complicated than that. The reason I couldn't seem to bring myself to mention it was that during our altercation, I had sparked something in her eyes I had simply never seen before, nor wished to see again.
Her eyes. The way she had looked at me. It wasn't the anger, rage or even the sorrow that was affecting me so... but the disappointment. The sheer disappointment she had ladened me with before fleeing from the room was haunting me more than any of the vile words that had spewed from her mouth.
Why did she look disappointed? Had she expected me to be different, had my words and actions shocked her that thoroughly? True, the last time we had been alone I had been far more civil. Genial, even. But the girl really shouldn't have had expectations of me. I was spoiled and I was unkind, and that was simply how I had always been. It was too late to change my personality. I was royalty and I was good at acting like it; right down to the entitled bratty attitude. But for her to be disappointed, it meant... it meant that in some way, some how, she saw something in me that simply had never been seen before. She had had expectations of me, and I had apparently ruined them. Enormously. The feeling left me hollow.
Well, how exactly did the girl expect me to act?
I think it's more along the lines of how she expects you not to act.
I had been running those words she had screamed at me through my mind for days now, and I had been able to pick out quite a few little slips she had made that supported my theory, particularly, when she had shrieked that we were apparently 'all the same.' It was clear she was used to that kind of treatment, and it would not take me far to look for the culprit. Though, it was her words when she accused me of being 'just like him' that had really caught my attention. She had said something like 'blackmail' and 'threatening' was in our natures, but I had not technically blackmailed or threatened her while I had her up against that wall. Sure, I may have acted threateningly towards her, but I believed that in her rage, it was an actual event or group of events she had been referring to.
So, she had been mistreated, threatened and blackmailed by a member of royalty, and my mind kept going back to Gaston. Could he have blackmailed her into being with him the way she apparently was? The accusation was shocking, to say the least. Not only had Gaston never had to do much besides crook his finger to get a girl all over him, but had never, to my knowledge, used force with a girl in his life. It just didn't seem... like him.
But the girl hadn't exactly sounded like she was lying, so...
Perhaps it had been coercion. Perhaps the girl had simply needed a little... persuading... to go to him. Maybe he was paying her for her services, because, as she herself had admitted, she was doing this for her family. So, that was understandable... right? It wasn't really blackmailing, it was simply a little... underhanded. And that kind of behaviour was Gaston all over. I knew he loved the hunt and would do anything to obtain something he desired. I had once travelled to another country with him and his father on a nine-week trip because Gaston wished to hunt and spear the head of a boar for his collection, and as we had none in our country, had so been indulged in his determination by the king. When Gaston wanted something, Gaston got it, and I couldn't blame him for wanting her and doing everything in his power to get her, even if I was envious. If he had merely given the peasant girl an offer to help sustain her family, then it wasn't blackmail. The girl had to have been embellishing.
But still, the question lingered... why did she always seem so reluctant around him. It wasn't just the way she seemed to flinch from his subtle caresses at meals, or how she had behaved so fearfully in the library, I was beginning to notice little things more and more often.
I had noticed that whenever Gaston and I would enter a room where Belle was, she would go completely rigid on sight. I noticed that, whenever Gaston spoke to Belle, especially in company, he'd do so as though addressing a child or an adorable little pet. I was actually rather shocked at how blasé he was about the whole thing. Most nobles would attempt to hide a 'relationship' of any kind with anyone of lower station, but Gaston flaunted it. In rooms full of servants, he'd demand she wait for him in his chambers. In front of nobles and councilmen he'd touch her and caress her, and she would do nothing. It made me wonder... why? If she didn't want this, then why was she doing it? And how could she have been so strong-willed and spirited with me, when all she ever did with him was cower and obey. It made no sense and I didn't like it.
What was worse, was that now I was paying more attention, It became stupidly clear that all occupants in this castle knew of her purpose, and I had been the last to catch up. I had even heard them outside my bedroom door once, as I was staying only a few rooms down from Gaston. Once again ignoring the large pile of letters on my desk, I had been attempting to read a book when I heard both their voices as well as the tell-tale sound of Gaston's large clomping boots.
"Gaston, could you please let go of my wrist a little, you're hurting me!"
"Darling, I've had a rough day, so pardon my manners, but I'm afraid this is the gentlest you are getting out of me tonight. I need to relieve some stress."
I didn't even need to open my bedroom door to hear them, so technically it didn't class as spying, as I was becoming quite accustomed to, and what I heard both confirmed my suspicions and solidified my doubts.
Alright, so Gaston wasn't the most chivalric with women, but they all knew what they were getting themselves into. And this girl, well, how could she not know by now what he was like? She had been with him for over a year, far longer than he had kept any of his other conquests around, so she obviously knew how she would be treated, and yet she stayed. The question that made me so confused, so angry, was why? If she was that opposed to her own actions, why didn't she stop? Why didn't she leave? There were other ways to make money, she wasn't a prisoner here! She could leave at any time, couldn't she?
God damn it, the more I spun this web in my head, the harder to untangle the knots became!
I had thought that confirming the girl's status within the castle would put this strange new fixation to rest, but instead, it had only made it grow back more viciously, and with two extra heads snapping their jaws at me.
I had to let this go. As I had told myself time and time again, no servant girl was worth this kind of agitation. The worst thing about this whole mess was that she was making me doubt myself. For a brief moment, after the girl had left me, in the silence, alone, a part of me had begged to go after her. Begged me to beg her for forgiveness. But once I had shaken free my shock, I had practically chewed that voice up.
A prince did not beg! A prince did not show weakness!
I, royal prince of Fairalia, heir to a throne, owed a servant girl an apology? It was heinous to even think as such! From now on I was just going to ignore her. I didn't care how beautiful she was, I was just going to push all thoughts of her aside and focus on things that were actually worth my attention!
Why did I get the feeling that was easier said than done?
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
My introduction to Angelique had been a godsend, I believed. The woman who had been responsible for planning large events hosted by kings and queens for the past ten years, the woman who apparently had planned my own welcoming gala, though had been unable to attend herself, had officially been called back to the kingdom once more. She was there to begin the planning for the Winter Solstice Silas was to host in two months, and would be staying in the castle for two weeks to begin the preparations for the grand ball. Though she most likely knew the castle and its main showrooms very well, King Silas had still requested that I accompany her and make sure she had everything she needed. Normally I would have scoffed, this job being one so beneath me, but the distraction Mademoiselle Angelique could provide had been an enormous relief, so I had happily agreed. The forty-something short haired blond, who giggled annoyingly every time I called her 'Mademoiselle' as she was 'too young' to be a miss, had been latching on to me like a leech ever since.
Every time we spoke, she'd not so casually run her hand up my arm in an overly familiar gesture and obvious attempt at flirting. Whenever I said anything, she'd always put on a staged little laugh, whether what I had said was intended to be funny or not, and she was constantly trying to get me alone, even though the two of us were mostly chaperoned by Cogsworth and his 'wonderful' expert knowledge of the castle, she was always trying to convince me to go off with her.
As I had said, I was grateful for the distraction she was so willingly providing for me, but could the woman truly not take a hint? She had to be at least twenty years my senior: and she was attractive, in an older woman kind of way, with high cheekbones, big lips and slanted little eyes, but she was simply not my type, and her continued sexual advances only made my mind retreat to who I wanted to focus my advances on.
I was being weak, and a part of me fully acknowledged it. I had already sworn that I would put all thoughts of Belle to the back of my mind, but it was proving a damn near impossible task. It seemed that everywhere I went I was reminded that I could not seek the relationship with her I might have wanted, the relationship my best friend was enjoying. Every time I saw her, mostly with Gaston, the uncomfortable, confusing, bubbling sensation in my stomach would rear up again, and I was left actively seeking the woman driving me up the wall for no other reason than, by simply being with Angelique, I was completely avoiding Belle. Alright, so, perhaps my action may have been construed as 'pursuing' her as well, but the older woman kept taking it way too far in my opinion.
The first week passed slowly enough. Angelique and her team writing out lists and drawing up sketches for the Winter Solstice. Some may have thought the party was planned a little too early, as Christmas day would not technically be here for another two months, and the Solstice was to take place, Christmas Eve, as was tradition, but each year was exactly the same. With each Kingdom designated to one party each year, it was rather like a contest to see who could produce the most lavish and talked about celebration of the country. Angelique had been the most renowned party planner for years now, and if you wanted something done right, you did it on her schedule. No matter who you were.
I was beginning to learn that keeping up with 'her schedule' was a complete bloody nightmare.
As the second week of her stay was slowly drawing to a close, she became more and more ruthless in her pursuits of me. She would often charm Cogsworth out of the room so we would be alone together. Well, not technically alone, as her assistant – a young man who always looked on the verge of tears– had been attached to her hip and completely ignoring us, going about whatever work he was assigned, obviously very used to this kind of behaviour from her.
Whenever we would retreat to the dining hall for supper, she would always sit right beside me, her croaky, thickly accented voice squealing in my ear the whole meal, while Gaston would often be on the opposite side of the table, winking at me and clearly enjoying my torment. I had even taken the opportunity to get him back for the kicking incident a few weeks ago when I caught him making kissing motions whilst indicating to the pair of us. Perhaps our behaviour was childish, but we had never been two for silent warfare. Everything was done out in the open, and as far as Angelique's flirting was concerned, very out in the open.
It was only on the last night of her stay that had sparked any kind of desire in me to return her affections. We were in the ballroom early evening, which was looking rather large and bare without the extravagant amount of party guests, whilst Angelique listened to Fife conduct his orchestra according to the type of music she thought would best be played for the winter solstice, all the while continuously interrupting to make little comments or criticisms. I could tell it was driving Fife crazy, for here was a man who had most likely been performing too royalty before this agitating woman had even been born. But, ever the gentleman, he politely stood there with his hands at his sides and accepted Angelique's advice with perfect manners, while the orchestra members looked as though they might charge at her and begin beating her with their instruments at any moment. I myself was eyeing a certain man's rather heavy looking tuba and hoped I could convince him to part with it while I joined them in the exercise.
"... and the first dance of the night should be soft and graceful, more subtle, perhaps using only one or two instruments. I myself prefer a piece that entwines style and elegance as well as beauty and splendour. I'm rather partial to the piano, and I hear that you, yourself, play?" She questioned rather haughtily.
Fife simply dipped his head in the affirmative, while his orchestra members rolled their eyes at the obvious stupidity of that question. Fife had been a musical prodigy as a child and had performed on his old piano to many a person from all over the world before he discovered his skill in conducting others to do the same. He had certainly been performing long before I'd been alive, hence the sheer stupidity of the dreadful woman's query.
"Wonderful," she cooed, clapping her hands together daintily, "then I'd very much like to hear you play, I never got the chance to do so whilst planning Adam's welcoming gala, but a personal, handwritten piano piece from you would be wonderful for the opening of the Winter Solstice ball. You know how King Silas likes his originality." She quipped.
I resisted the urge to smirk when I saw Fife's lips twitch, as though he were trying to bite back a snarl. He was an incredibly refined man, and his humble background served to ensure that he always showed the utmost courtesy and respect, but I could tell this woman was clearly hitting his last nerve. After she had practically ordered him to write a new piano piece just for the ball, knowing how great musicians could take years to write their own masterpieces, I would not be surprised if Fife ended up reaching for the large man's tuba before I got the chance to. Honestly, the only thing I thought saved the picky woman from the bludgeoning she had practically been begging for, was a soft voice that floated from across the ballroom floor.
"Monsieur Fife, I have the sheets of music you requested."
I internally groaned as the sound of Belle's sweet soft voice carried across the bare hall. I kept my sight from swivelling to her, while every other person did the exact opposite. I watched in amazement as Fife's extremely tense demeanour suddenly melted away, leaving but a warm open-hearted smile in its place. It was clear how he favoured the girl since I had never known anyone to be allowed to sit on the bench beside him as he played. And from the look in his eyes, it was the way a loving father would gaze upon his only daughter.
I hated how so many people in the castle would treat her like she was a precious flower. That wasn't what she was and they all knew it! It infuriated me!
"Belle, dear, how many times must I tell you to address me as simply 'Fife', please no more of this 'Monsieur' nonsense. It makes me feel old." He told the girl light-heartedly, eliciting a sweet little giggle that cracked my weak resolve. I turned, and upon seeing me, the happy, carefree look on Belle's face seemed to melt away. A rather steeled look came over her eyes as she took a step in my direction and gave me a respectful curtsy, bowing her head as was expected.
"Your Majesty." She acknowledged me coolly, but without any kind of animosity. Either she had already forgiven me for what had occurred between us those days ago, or she was putting up a front for our company. I believed the latter to be the most conceivable.
"Belle," I replied calmly, not letting my voice betray my sudden burst of anger.
The girl rose after being acknowledged and moved to Fife to hand him the papers she had been holding in her left hand the whole time. Fife smiled thankfully, taking the sheets from her and placing a small kiss on the back of her hand. For some unknown unexplainable reason, the familiarity of his action made my blood boil, even if I knew the intention behind it was completely innocent, I didn't like it.
"Thank you mon cher, I don't know what I would do without you." He gushed, releasing her hand and giving her a courteous little bow, much like the one he had given Angelique, only this one seemed far more sincere and natural. She giggled again and offered him a curtsy in return, while the orchestra behind them all smiled indulgently. I wanted to scoff in agitation; Is there anyone who doesn't love this girl?
Just as I asked the question in my head, I turned to look at the snooty woman beside me and found that her thick, bright red lips were pursed in displeasure. She was obviously not attracted to the warmth of this display the way everyone else seemed to be.
Finally, something we had in common.
"Mon cher, you simply must assist me in my performance piece at the Winter Solstice ball, perhaps you could even sing for the masses while I play our favourite melody." Fife insisted, his naturally greying brown hair falling over his dark eyes as he playfully beseeched her.
Angelique began to tap her foot impatiently, clearly not pleased she was no longer the centre of attention. But the two paid her no mind as Belle blushed deeply and hid her face behind a curtain of beautifully soft looking brunette hair. Oh, how I'd love to run my fingers through those soft curls as I lowered my lips to her plump, perfect ones for a lingering...
Stop that!
Before Belle could say anything in response to Fife's gentle pleading, Angelique cleared her throat in an obviously unforbearing manner, successfully directing all the attention in the room back to her. She smiled at Belle, but it was not a smile of friendship, there was absolutely no warmth in the woman's icy eyes, only a look of calm calculation. Stepping closer to the girl, she stuck her arm out in a very brisk manner.
"Angelique, the castles event planner, and you would be?" She questioned rather pointedly, as though declaring her own importance while diminishing Belle's.
"Mademoiselle Angelique, it's very nice to see you again," Belle said politely, taking the woman's hand and shaking it briefly before dropping her arms at her sides.
"Oh, we've met before? You must forgive my forgetfulness dear, it's those common frocks all you servants seem to wear, you see. It does make it awfully difficult to commit one's face to memory out of the masses. Perhaps if you were to dress with a little more... flair... it would be easier to recall your name, but life is I suppose... Belle, is it?" She asked the girl condescendingly, her face all but twisting in pleasure at the low blow she had just delivered at Belle's expense. Everyone knew mostly all servants wore either uniforms or hand-me-downs, and the implication that style and dressing in money had anything to do with being a person worth knowing would be a fine insult to a servant. Her thick lips stretched up in a small smirk as she eyed the girl, already celebrating her victory.
Belle didn't even blink before a similar smile spread across her face. I thought for a moment she was simply going to ignore the jab, but then...
"Yes, and we have met before actually, during the planning of Prince Adam's welcoming gala and last years Winter Solstice. I'm actually surprised you don't recall me from your last visit, as you were extremely focused on Prince Gaston and he always wanted me by his side whenever he came to meet you. But, I suppose, old age does have a way of tricking one's mind to committing falsehoods to memory. No harm done." She replied sweetly.
I could see several of the orchestra members smirking and attempting to hide their snickers behind their instruments as Angelique's face turned an unattractive shade of puce. I was too surprised at the girl's artful counter attack to do anything but stand there in awe. Belle was certainly no wilting flower, I'd give her that. She knew how to fight back when and if the situation allowed it, and I was at least relieved that I wasn't the only one she showed such attitude with. Angelique was a guest in the castle, and while Belle may have held the status of a servant, she obviously was not afraid to speak her mind.
Before Angelique could respond, a boisterous laugh sounded from across the room. Belle seemed to straighten immediately, an action mimicked by every other person as Gaston marched across the hall in an authoritative manner, his eyes bright with humour and going straight to Belle as she curtsied to him.
"That's my girl." He said amusedly, marching up to Belle and leaning down to lay his lips to her forehead, almost tenderly. He made absolutely no attempt to hide his... relationship... with her, and seemed completely unashamed. Most of higher class would find relations with servants aberrant, but he was a prince, and a prince was untouchable. It did not really matter what anyone else said or thought, as long as whatever it was between them was kept within this castle, and out of the obvious public eye.
Gaston pulled Belle to his side, slinging one arm around her shoulder, unapologetically staking his claim. She went to him without a fuss, though I noticed her light-hearted smile had vanished.
Angelique's rather hateful sneer painfully transformed into a bright fake grin as she addressed the other prince. "Your majesty," she greeted in a sultry voice, dipping into her own curtsy, purposefully flashing him far too much of the low cut top of her dress. When she rose, she looked pointedly at Belle before turning to the prince, "I'm quite surprised at how outspoken this servant girl seems to be Sire. Do they not teach servants to respect their betters in this kingdom?" She questioned, some of her earlier smug attitude returning, clearly sure she was going to land the girl in hot water. Belle did not look the least bit concerned.
"Indeed, we do. And I might have even scolded my Belle for it, if she had indeed been disrespecting her betters." Gaston retorted mockingly, baring all his immaculate teeth.
The event planner's face flushed as she staggered back, as though physically struck. The thirty odd orchestra members seemed to be having mixed feelings about the turn of events; some were finding anywhere to look but at the four of us, who now stood centre in something that could potentially turn into a bloodbath, and some were watching avidly, as though the drama of the moment were the most entertained they'd been in all their lives. It was only Fife's expression I could not deduce, as he stood behind Belle and Gaston. He was eyeing the arm that was resting on Belle's shoulders and glaring.
I was relieved I wasn't the only one who disapproved of their relationship for unexplainable reasons.
Before things could escalate any further, and before Angelique could say anything she would most definitely regret later, I decided to step in and defuse the tension.
"So, Angelique, are you going to be returning after the winter solstice ball to plan Gaston's coming of age celebration?" I asked the silently seething woman, who was gritting her perfect sparkling teeth rather painfully at this point. My question seemed to knock some sense into the vapid lady, for she seemed to shake herself, run her hands over her revealing dress and straighten her back, brushing off Gaston's insult and plastering another fake smile on her face.
"Of course! I've already been asked by the king to lend my expertise to plan the event. And what a marvellous event it is bound to be as well. I'll have to take some time with you, Your Majesty, to inquire as to any personal preferences you may have." The woman said to Gaston, even adding in an over exaggerated wink, clearly flirting.
For some reason that one action... irritated me. It wasn't as though I had any feelings for the woman, really I could hardly stand her company, but with Belle standing right there under his arm, and with another woman who had been pursuing me all week, now trying to throw herself at him?
No!
He already had Belle, he couldn't have them both!
Gaston chuckled, as though the idea were appealing, though I knew the look in his eyes. It told me he was quite enjoying himself at the desperate woman's expense.
"Of course, I would be happy to lend my opinion," He purred, and for a moment Angelique's face seemed to light up with pleasure before his next words no doubt extinguished that light.
"Belle, you'll accompany us, won't you? I'd simply love your input." He smirked down at the small brunette under his arm, and she looked up and gave him a single nod and a weak looking smile, "Of course Gaston," she replied.
Beside me, Angelique was barely keeping it together. She had been insulted both subtly and outrightly by both Belle and Gaston, and honestly, I didn't know whose insults were getting to her more. Behind her, her assistant was fixed on the scene, with a wide smile and eyes practically glistening with joy. He had been trampled over the whole two weeks by Angelique and no doubt viewed this as her getting some well-deserved comeuppance.
Angelique turned to Belle and practically snarled. "Someone of your station is permitted to call royalty by their given names? No wonder you're so unruly child, you clearly lack such basic manners as to know how to address your superiors." She hissed.
Belle simply stared back emotionlessly, with only a small raise of her eyebrow. I couldn't figure out if she was insulted or amused by the older woman's rather pathetic display, but I'd bet on amused since she herself had told me she wasn't one for caring what others thought about her. True, that comment had been directed at me, but if she didn't care for the opinion of a prince and soon-to-be king, why would she care what anyone else thought?
Instead of becoming offended, Gaston merely chuckled at the woman's words before telling her, "of course my beauty is allowed to say my name, I love the sound of it on her lips, and it gives me the incentive to make her scream it."
A few gasps around the room signified how inappropriate his words really were, but, no one dared to speak out. I looked at Belle beside him, but she did not even seem the least bit embarrassed by Gaston speaking so publicly of an act so intimate. There was simply a little huff and the slightest hint of an eye roll.
For whatever reason I could not explain even to myself, her apathetic attitude to his behaviour made me feel a little... sad. Like, she shouldn't have been used to Gaston acting so uncouthly towards her. But this was the way Gaston was, how he had always been with women, so...
Gah! What was happening to me?!
I had never been filled with so much doubt in my all life. Belle belonged to Gaston. He had gotten her, fair and square. So why was it the picture of the two of them before me, in a seemingly intimate embrace, make me feel... so damn horrible?
I didn't like being so clueless. It was driving me insane!
It wasn't until I had effectively returned from the muddy puddle my mind had become that I realised Gaston was smirking at me. I blanched, praying that nothing I had just thought had shown on my face.
He was baiting me, I realised, practically challenging me to say anything in defence of the annoying woman beside me. We had played similar games when one of us had ended up with a more attractive female than the other. Normally, the girls would be friends, and it was a kind of obligation for one of us to latch on to the ugly one while the other got to spend an amazing night with the prettier friend. This situation was similar but different. Gaston had obviously gotten the prize, but he was trying to set me up with the dud? I wondered if Gaston believed I had bedded her already. She had been spending the last two weeks rubbing herself all over me, perhaps Gaston was trying to 'set me up' so to speak. Whether he was doing it out of sympathy or of malicious intent, I had no idea, but I did know that it was working.
I had absolutely no attraction to the woman, other than her obvious good looks, since the moment her flirting had started, but now I was thinking... what if I just... gave her what she wanted. Took her to my room and bedded her and hopefully got the fantasies about Belle out of my head. I couldn't have the brunette beauty, that much was obvious, but the woman beside me... I very much could have. And why not? She had been practically begging me for it for the entire length of her stay. Why not use her, and let her use me, as long as we both got some relief? The more I thought about it, the more and more appealing the idea seemed. I needed to relieve some stress, and she was an obvious choice so... why not?
I found myself suddenly grinning back at Gaston to thank him for his assistance, and he simply shrugged as if to say, 'what are friends for?'
"Angelique," I said conversationally, drawing her attention back to me, where it should have stayed in the first place. She turned around, clearly still distressed, but I hoped to change that soon enough. With a smirk on my face, I stepped towards her and quickly took her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips in a mocking gentlemanly gesture, though due to a lot of practice, only Gaston and I would know how gentlemanly I was truly being.
"I find myself interested in learning more about your plans for the Winter Solstice ball. Perhaps we can discuss this matter further. Say, over drinks in my bedchamber?" I propositioned silkily. Her pursed mouth suddenly dropped from angry to stunned, and her face lit up a deep red as she blushed like a young girl, staring at the hand I had just bestowed a kiss to before looking up to bat her lashes at me. She took a step closer, her coy smile returning.
"I would be honoured, Your Majesty." She purred, attempting to sound sexy, but really it only made her seem more pathetic.
"Marvellous." I cooed, using my grip on her hand to pull her towards me. She let out an exaggerated giggle, and I resisted rolling my eyes at the stupid creature. I bent down and pressed my lips to her ear, whispering, "and perhaps after drinks, we could indulge in some dessert?"
She nodded like an eager puppy and followed behind me as I began to pull her from the room. I didn't look back. Satisfied as I was to know that I had not lost all my appeal and that some women still wanted me, I didn't want to face the reaction of the crowd. More specifically, the reaction of the woman I could somehow feel staring at my back as I walked away.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Angelique was looking at me like I had just pulled off my head and was now juggling it in front of her whilst singing 'Mary had a little lamb.' Honestly, I was just as mortified as she was in this exact moment.
"What do you mean?" She demanded, outraged. "What happened?"
I wished I knew the answer to that myself.
The second I closed the door of my bedroom, she pounced on me. Throwing herself at me like her life depended on it. She mashed her lips to mine and began kissing me with wild abandon while rubbing herself against me and attempting to remove my clothing. Never one to miss an opportunity, and set in my plan to blow off a little steam, I kissed back. Grabbing hold of her, I switched our positions and pressed her against the wall, hearing her let out an animalistic moan as she continued to rip my clothing free from my body. Not to be outdone, I grabbed hold of the front of her dress and tugged, hard. The noise of ripping fabric and falling buttons was the only accompanying sound to her gasp of surprise. Lips still moulded together, I grabbed both her legs and lifted her to straddle me, aiming straight for the bed. We crashed down upon it in a mess of tangled limbs and somehow managed to remove most of our clothing while our bodies and lips were still connected. Finally ridding her of her extravagant dress, I moved my hand up to cup one of her thinly covered breasts and she let out another small gasp and moaned my name.
"Oh, Adam!" She panted, thrusting her body up to meet my hand.
"Oh, Belle." I gasped, and a second later, all kissing ceased.
It took me a few moments to really notice that anything had gone wrong. When I was in the heat of the moment, I very rarely cared what was happening with my bed partner. As long as they were making me feel good, nothing else mattered, but in that one single moment, I thought I could feel the temperature in the room drop about a thousand degrees. I opened my eyes, to see the older woman no longer looking up at me with lust and heat, but with shock, surprise and rage.
"What?" She demanded, and I looked at her, dumbfounded, unaware of what had gone wrong to change her attitude so completely.
"What?" I countered her, just as confrontationally. I wasn't in the mood for this right now. I was in the mood for something, and it certainly wasn't talking.
"You said, 'Belle!' She accused, her voice low and her face stone cold, as though I could not have delivered a worse insult. I looked down at her, confounded.
"No, I didn't." I defended. Of course, I didn't. Why would I have? She wasn't here, and I was just about to be intimate with another woman. The brown haired goddess had been the furthest thing from my mind.
"Yes, you did! You said, 'Oh Belle!' Were you thinking about her just now?" She yelled at me shrilly, pushing me away from where I was still hovering over her. She pulled herself up to the headboard, still sparsely dressed and looking at me angrily.
I didn't understand.
I had never used a girls name before, not once... not since Marie had I called a girls name during a heated exchange of passion. To call a girl's name, while I was with another girl... I...I...
"I can't do this," I said softly, staring down at the bed covers in shame.
"What!" She squealed, and I cringed at the piercing, ear-splitting sound of the woman's voice, still unwilling to meet her eyes.
I was humiliated.
This had never happened before. Never, since the age of fourteen, had I been rendered unable to... perform. I looked down at my own body and noted that the arousal I had felt only moments before, had, indeed, softened. Completely. It was mortifying, and now she was staring at me like I had lost my bloody mind because I couldn't go through with something that should have been second nature by now.
"What do you mean 'you can't do this'?! You were having the time of your life just a few moments ago! Don't tell me this is about that stupid little girl!"
I cringed, literally, something I could scarcely remember ever doing in front of a woman who was not my bitch of a mother. I didn't know what to say, how to defend myself. I looked up at the woman who was practically steaming with anger. I had absolutely no attraction to her, at all. She was just supposed to be a distraction. A one-night release and she hadn't even been able to do that right. I met her gaze and spoke quietly.
"I think you should go," I said, stepping away from the bed in search for the shirt that had been flung somewhere during our brief moment of heated passion.
"Go?!" She questioned loudly, as I hastily replaced my shirt and scanned the room for the dress I had ripped off her body.
"Yes, go," I replied, picking the garment up and holding it out to her. She'd never be able to wear it again, but at least it would be better than undergarments as she found her way back to her room.
"No, Adam, C'mon! It was just getting to the fun part. Don't kick me out, I... I don't care that you said her name okay? Let's just pick up where we left off." She begged pathetically, getting off the bed and sauntering towards me, putting a purposeful spring in her step to perhaps show off the bounce of her breasts, which were quite easily in view thanks to the scrappy piece of lingerie she had on.
"No," I told her sternly, capturing her wrist before it could rub against my chest. Her face turned sour, and she snatched her hand from me quickly and glowered at me in a way no woman ever had before.
"This is all because of that stupid whore, isn't it? You're just as fixated on her as prince Gaston! Well guess what Adam, you'll never get near her, not the way you obviously want to, Gaston would never allow it! He's as strung up on that little bitch as you apparently, even though I have no idea why! She's just a little girl playing a woman, I'm a real woman! I could please you so much more!" She screamed.
Her words made my blood boil. It wasn't the disrespectful way in which she spoke to me or even the way she added salt into the already festering wound of how I couldn't be with Belle the way I wanted to be; it was the way she talked about her. How dare this woman accuse Belle of being a whore whilst standing before me half naked telling me she could please me better? If there was a whore in this castle, it was her. What right did this woman have to judge Belle?
…
…
…
Like you did?
It was like a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown all over me, as I finally came to understand the real reason I had been so angry these last few weeks.
I felt guilty.
It was an emotion I had never felt before, in all my life. I wasn't one to dwell on my actions, or even think anything wrong of them, even when I knew I had done something completely shameless and spiteful. It was my right, after all, to treat anyone of lower rank in any way I pleased, but now that the thought had wormed its way into my mind, it was stuck.
I should never have called her a whore. She hadn't deserved that abuse. Even if she admitted to me that was exactly what she was, I couldn't help but feel repulsed by my own actions.
She wasn't a whore, that was so obvious now. Belle was sweet and kind and caring and she didn't throw herself at every single man who gave her the slightest bit of attention. She didn't strut around the castle knowing that every man residing in it would probably give their left arm for a night with her.
She was shy. Humble. A good person.
The woman before me had no right to name her a whore, and neither had I.
"Get out!" I ordered Angelique coldly. She gave me one last glare before snatching her dress from my fingers, flinging it haphazardly over her head and storming from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Whats up ducks?! Okay, so first, I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far, and I want you all to know that I enjoy reading your reviews just as much.
In fact, I have so much faith in you as readers that I am just going to go ahead and say, that my final editing for this chapter came off the same hour I watched the season premiere of Game of Thrones. Suffice to say my mind is so packed full of G.O.T awesomeness right now I am finding it hard to concentrate. I have done my best, but if you spot any mistakes, feel free to brandish your pitchforks at me.
Hope to hear from you next chapter duckies! Peace out.