Chapter 3: Chateau

The lioness, who purred eventually that her name was Amara, guided Belle to the garden. Belle gasped when she saw it through the gate.

Her father had described to her how it was half summer and half winter, and about the surreal light, but Belle had assumed that it was an exaggeration. Now, she realized that it truly was split down the center.

"How is it possible?" she breathed to Amara, "How is it possible that it is split into two opposite seasons?"

Amara turned to look back at her, her golden features arranged in what looked amazingly like a smirk.

"How is it possible that a lion can speak, Little One?"

Belle felt herself redden. She had not thought how ignorant her question would sound, and realized that from now on she should learn not to be so easily surprised.

The lioness, meanwhile, place a golden brown paw upon the wrought iron gate. It began to shudder, throwing snow in all directions, and with a slight groan it opened. This, too, Belle felt safe to assume, was more of the magic that enshrouded this whole situation.

The path that led through the garden ambled through both halves; some of it was warmed brick, while other parts were still covered in ice and snow. Belle was content to gaze at the garden in silence, as Amara showed no signs of speaking soon. But after awhile, the flowers her eyes landed upon set her heart aching for home, and she had to look away.

Quite suddenly, the landscape changed. Now, instead of wintry terrain on the left and summery plants on the right, there were colorful leaves of red, gold, and orange on the left and green buds and drying slush on the right. Belle could not help but utter a gasp. She looked behind her- the winter and summer were still there.

"This is the garden of four seasons." Amara remarked, "before us, the left side is fall and the right side is spring."

Awestruck, Belle said,

"It is so beautiful!"

Amara grunted, which Belle took to mean that she agreed. Too soon for Belle's liking, she saw a castle looming before them. It was not as large as she had imagined, but it was majestic, as it glowed with that same otherworldly glow that lit the garden around them. It was made with smooth gray stone, and towers rose from it. There were no walls to block out intruders, and it was quite clear that it was not intended to be a fortress.

"That is where you live?" she asked, knowing the answer already.

"Yes."

"And…and that is where your master lives?"

"Yes. His name is Misrak."

Belle wiped her sweating palms on her green skirt.

"Is he…is he the one who threatened my Papa?"

"No. That was Samson. Misrak is his son."

"But I thought that it was your master who sent for me…"

"It was."

"That makes no sense. Wouldn't it be logical that Samson is the one who should send someone out for me?"

"Samson is our king." Amara said shortly, "He has no time for such affairs. He assigns these sort of things to his son."

Belle bristled at calling her situation 'this sort of thing', as though it was common and unimportant.

"What sort of land is he king of, that he should be so consumed in other affairs?"

"The land is his no more. It is far away, and I do not know what you would call it here."

She wondered at that, but said,

"I should think that the king would have more compassion."

Amara stopped and regarded Belle scrutinizingly.

"Your father stole from Samson. Is that not good reason to expect repayment?"

"Not if he didn't know," Belle said heatedly, "and certainly not if he can't even bother to look after his own meals. I hardly think that a rose is worth a life."

"What?" Amara asked. Belle puffed out her cheeks in a most unladylike manner and said, with some annoyance,

"Does your master not intend to devour me?"

Something in Amara's laugh was harsh.

"No," she said, "Misrak would not take your life. Samson either, for that matter."

Belle thought of how the lion had threatened her father and sniffed.

"I would not be so sure."

But after that, she was barely nervous.

It felt like eternity before they reached the golden grilles that barred off the entrance into the castle. This time, instead of putting her paw onto it, the lioness licked the gate delicately.

Instantly, it slid upwards, much smoother than the other gate had been. As soon as they were high enough, Amara padded through. Belle was annoyed, because though they were smooth in rising, the grilles moved rather slowly. By the time the gate was high enough for Belle to go under, she had to run to catch up with Amara.

"You could have ducked under." Amara said simply. Belle scowled, but knew she was right.

Instead of telling her so, Belle looked around her reverently, taking in the awesome structure. Although it was not as imposing from the outside as it could have been, the castle had a high ceiling and was quite large. The floor was made of a marble that was swirled with the colors of honey and cream. There were pillars made of the same marble supporting the ceiling along the far sides of the hall. At the top and bottom was cream colored molding. In the walls were sconces that held torches, which cast pools of light in the areas surrounding them.

Also on the walls there hung several large portraits and tapestries, and most of the paintings were of regal looking men and women. What was curious about the men and women in these paintings was that, rather than having pale white skin, their skin tones were in varying shades of brown. Belle couldn't help a small frown that crept onto her face. She had rarely seen such darkly colored people before.

"Amara," she said finally, "why do the lords and ladies in these pictures have such dark skin? I know that's how they were born," she added quickly, "but I have scarcely seen any other color besides white in the village I live in."

Amara looked at the pictures that Belle had spoken of, and for a moment Belle could see what looked remarkably like a wistful expression on the lioness's face. Quickly, it was gone, and her forehead crinkled with what she took to be concern.

"You do not know of people with brown skin?"

Belle shrugged.

"I have seen it a few times, but only on gypsies and slaves."

"You have slaves?" Amara growled, rounding on her accusingly. Belle backed away as she saw fire in the lioness's eyes and the glint of her sharp teeth.

"N-no." she stammered, "The only one who helped us was our neighbor, Aurelie."

Amara glared at her a moment, then turned away. Though Belle felt relief flood through her once more, she felt a sense of cautiousness. She could not trust anyone in this castle- particularly, a lioness with such a nasty temper. They resumed walking.

"I am sorry." Amara said, after a time, "you did nothing wrong, my child. What was your question, again?"

Much more cautiously, Belle said,

"I have rarely seen one with dark coloring. Why, then, are these people dressed so nobly? Would I not have heard of royals with brown skin?"

Amara shook her head.

"In your country, the royalty is indeed lightly colored. But in a land far from here-" she stopped for a second, and when she started again her voice was filled with longing, "in a land far from here, all the people have skin as dark as those that are in the portraits. It is the white folk that are a rarity, and when they appear, they are feared and hated, for their sole purpose is to enslave them- us."

Belle was shocked. She had no idea they actually went out to capture slaves. She had thought slaves did something to deserve their punishment, and she told Amara so. Amara's response was a bitter laugh.

"That is what they would have you believe. In truth, the slaves' only offense is being born." she said darkly, and Belle did not dare to ask what she meant by 'they'. She did not need to. Whoever would do such a thing…well, she considered it barbaric. 'Almost like these lions are doing to you' something inside of her said. She ignored it.

"Look. It is the Great Hall."

Belle could not help but smile at the sight as they passed the open archway leading to it. It was grand and large, with light (which she correctly assumed was more of the unnatural light that lit the garden) streaming through the large windows. The light was made brighter by how it reflected off the snow. All around the large room ran three tables, one to sit parallel to each of the walls except for the one that the archway was situated in. Though the tables were both wide and long, there was a large amount of space in the center for entertainment or for servants to deliver food to those who were dining.

"Are there many lions who live here?" Belle asked.

"Not really; our court is not so large." she snorted, "however, this hall is convenient, should we ever have guests."

Belle took her tone to mean that there were not many people who visited. It was not hard to see why.

After they continued walking (this time at a faster pace, as though to make up lost time), Belle remembered something.

"You said your master- what was his name?"

"Misrak."

"Yes, yes, Misrak." Belle said, embarrassed at having forgotten, "You said he would not kill me?"

"Yes."

"Then- then- is it possible that he would let me go?" she felt hope rise in her breast as she voiced the possibility.

"I'm afraid not, my child."

Belle's heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach.

"But- you said-"

"I said he would not kill you. No more, no less."

"But why would he keep me here?"

Amara let out an exasperated sigh.

"Your father took something of ours." she explained, "and now, he has taken something of your father's. A debt is repaid."

"It was only a rose!" Belle exploded, her face reddening and disappointment seeping in, "And I'm not any form of payment!"

Amara said nothing. They walked in silence, and Belle calmed down, her rage only melting into grief.

"We are here." Amara said finally, stopping at a large wooden door engraved with gold.

"Where?" Belle asked flatly.

"The throne room. You are to see Misrak now."

She opened the door and was at once assaulted by a burst of the colors gold and purple. The throne room itself was nothing more than a room filled with different blankets and comfortable looking pillows in these colors. Among them, she saw upon closer inspection, was sprawled a majestic lion. He was giant- almost twice Amara's size, and several shades darker. He seemed to be sleeping among his gold and purple pillows, but as soon as the door opened, he woke up.

"Come in, girl." he said in a deep voice that had an accent that resembled Amara's. She turned to hold the door open wider for the lioness, only to find that she had vanished. She gulped, and then entered the throne room alone.