Chapter 4: Soeur

Not half an hour later, Belle found herself staring incredulously at the lion before her. She was sitting across from him on the bare ground, and Misrak was, if anything, nothing at all like she would have expected.

For the last half of an hour, the lion had questioned her thoroughly about herself. At first he asked her name and age, then about her family, and then, after he ran out of general questions, he asked her all sorts of other things, such as her favorite color (to which she had tentatively replied 'blue'). Now, he had just asked her,

"What is your favorite flower?"

Belle paused for a second, then said, with conviction,

"Lilies."

Misrak seemed somewhat surprised.

"Really. I would have thought something different. Like…roses."

Belle narrowed her eyes.

"No." she said vehemently, "Roses have thorns and are much more trouble than they are worth. And I think," she added, glancing up at the lounging prince, "that they have proven themselves to cause much pain and misery, especially as of late."

Misrak's eyes met hers, and she knew that her meaning was not lost upon him. He looked away, and Belle could not help feel a little guilty at the wounded look in his eyes. But when he looked back, it was not there. They sat in an awkward silence.

"I do not mean to be rude," she said, knowing that she already had been, "but- do you intend to make me stay here?"

Misrak said, after a long silence,

"It depends whether I decide if you are suitable to eat."

Belle, who had been looking at the interlocking tiles that she sat on, looked up so fast she could have sworn her neck had snapped. Rubbing it, she said in a pitch much higher than she remembered having,

"You can't! You wouldn't! Amara- she-"

She was interrupted by Misrak's roar of laughter, and she felt heat rush to her face when she realized that he had fooled her. Normally, such a thing would not bother her, but she had been scared and upset too much that day. Her patience snapped, and she glared at him.

"Very well," she said boldly, "go ahead." She was tired of being frightened and, against her better judgment, she wanted to see what the lion would do.

Misrak's laughter subsided after a few moments and he wiped the tears from his catlike eyes with a swipe of his huge paw.

"I am sorry, ma chere." he laughed, "but it has been so long…so long since I saw someone new."

Belle bit her tongue to resist the evil words that flew to her mind. Instead, in one fluid movement, she rose to her feet, turned on her heel, and stalked out. She was determined that she would either find Amara (who she felt something akin to friendliness for) or she would simply leave and go home. It was only then that she realized she had left her pack in the throne room. It had all she would need to get home- a cloak, food, and a map.

Besides, she remembered, she no longer had a horse. She winced at the thought.

She had just resolved to go without it when a streak of light brown came running in her direction and knocked her to the ground.

"Oh- I am sorry." said the female, heavily accented voice that came from the creature that pinned her down, "Are you well?"

Belle tried to respond but, as the beast was sprawled over her chest, she could do little more than wheeze and wave her arms helplessly.

"Oh- I am sorry." she repeated, and quickly scuttled off her. When she sat up she saw that the lioness was quite a bit younger than Amara, and smaller too.

"Are you the lady who just came?" she asked eagerly. Then, Belle observed a most curious thing. She winced, and before her eyes she could see the girl chiding herself. It consisted of her hissing in an unintelligible fashion, like one who had been hissed at so much that she just continued doing it to herself long after the actual scolding has ceased.

"Of course you are," the lioness finally said to her, "you must be, because you are a human now. And your skin!" she giggled, "it is so pale!"

Belle couldn't resist smiling.

"What is your name?" she asked the lioness, getting to her feet.

"Bibi." she replied breathlessly, "Oh and yours is?" she added as an afterthought.

"Belle."

She giggled again.

"What a strange name!" a second later, she was scolding herself quietly again. It took another minute before she finished conferring with herself and said, abashedly,

"I am sorry again. France is such a very strange place, I imagine!"

"You imagine? You live here!"

"Yes. But…" she trailed off and eyed one of the sconces on the wall with distaste.

"But?"

"I have never left this castle."

"Never?"

"No."

"That is ridiculous." Belle said angrily, "To keep you inside like that!" for a moment, she found herself feeling like she was talking to a human child.

"It is necessary." Bibi replied, sounding much older. Belle stomped the ground in irritation.

"I do not think so. I shall show you the door right now, and we will take you into the sun-"

"NO!"

Bibi's cry was so unexpected that Belle jumped.

"No." she said again, "I cannot go into the sun, Belle. Never."

"Why-"

"Please do not ask me why." she bowed her head. "I was told not to tell you."

She looked up and resumed her former sunny demeanor, as though nothing strange had been said.

"Misrak sent me to come fetch you back, and to say that he is sorry." she said, as though reciting a speech, "and that he did not wish to insult you."

"It is much too late for all of that." Belle spat, "He and his father have already angered me, for they will not allow me to leave this place."

The young lioness nodded sympathetically.

"I have heard of all of that." she said, "But do not be sad, for Misrak and Samson and everyone shall be kind to you, and you shall be happy here, someday."

Looking into Bibi's eyes, she found herself asking,

"Are you happy here?"

Bibi seemed to seriously consider the question.

"I am not unhappy." she said slowly, "And it is the only home I have ever known."

Perhaps it was the pleading look in her eyes that convinced Belle to follow her back into the throne room. When they returned, Misrak looked significantly relieved to see them.

"You have met Bibi." he remarked. Belle nodded, not saying a word. After giving her one more look, he slid from his pillows and said in a kind voice,

"Come. I will show you the chateau."

Belle replied, in a clipped voice,

"I have already seen it."

Misrak, she could tell, was getting frustrated.

"Then," he said, "I will show you to your bedchamber."

He strode from the room with effortless grace. Belle just looked after him, arms crossed. Soon she felt a nudge at her knee. She looked down and found Bibi looking at her reproachfully.

"What are you waiting for?" she hissed, "You must follow him!"

Belle sniffed.

"What authority does he think he has over me?" she asked haughtily, "Why should I do whatever he wants, when all he does is toy with me?" she surprised herself with her own bold words, but found herself agreeing with them.

"He is the prince."

"He is not my prince."

"But it is his castle. And he did not eat you."

This made her pause.

"Fine. I will go." she muttered, hating to admit defeat. It was made worse by the fact that the look on Bibi's face was altogether too superior. She grabbed her neglected pack and hoisted it onto her shoulder, clutching it tightly to her side.

She skulked out the door, and felt immediately foolish because she had no idea which way Misrak had gone. She decided that she would go right, where it did not seem so dark and menacing.

Alone, she reflected, these halls seemed larger- they loomed more, and the shadows were longer and darker. Belle stayed near to the left wall so she didn't feel that she was wandering aimlessly, and she let her fingers brush the cool marble. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, allowing the silence to calm her rather than alarm her. The only sound was that of her shoes tapping the ground.

She thought deeply about the whole situation, and the odd inhabitants of this place. She found it odd, as well, how they kept pictures of human royalty on the walls when they themselves were lions. Did the lion's court have some connection or agreement with the court of men? Belle nearly laughed. From what she knew of men, it was highly unlikely.

Her fingers caught on a gash in the wall and her eyes snapped open. They widened when she saw that a large marble slab was receding into the wall, leaving an entranceway. Cautiously she approached and looked in.

It was very dark, so it was hard to see beyond a few paces. She reached her hand out to test where the slab had gone, and a torch just inside the chamber sprang to life. Instinctively, she pulled her hand back, then slowly slid the torch out of its bracket. She stepped cautiously into the chamber and then began to step forward. The hall she found herself in was significantly more narrow than the one she had just come from, and more torches sprang to life as she walked past them. She could see from their light that the walls and floor were not of warm marble either. Rather, they were of dark stone that was not even or polished. She did not need to touch them to feel the cold that came from them.

Behind her, Belle heard the slab slide shut once more. More apprehensive, she quickened her step. She nearly tripped when the downwardly sloping floor stopped and abruptly became a flight of steps, still going downward. Belle climbed down them, a hand against the wall for support. There were no more torches to light themselves, and she was left only with the flickering torch that she held. As she went downwards, she could hear noises. Drawing nearer, she could tell that they were voices, the accented voices of all who lived there, and eventually the voices formed words.

"-don't know why…"

"I can't believe he's…"

"…name is Belle, of all things!"

Belle froze at the mention of her name. With a more quiet, stealthy stride, she climbed down the remaining steps and listened hard. The voices that were talking, she realized, were all female.

"Amara said she's not the most fetching thing." a voice said, "Pale girl, white like all the people here."

Belle heard more than one cry of disgust.

"And," another voice said, "she dared to speak ill of our royalty. After all that they have done for her!"

The hatred for her was now undeniable.

"Alitash," the voice said, "what do you think?"

"I think," said yet another voice, more deep and rich than all the others, "that I shall be glad when Misrak tires of her. Then we can rip her apart, limb by limb, and be done with it."

Murmurs of agreement echoed off the walls, and Belle backed away in horror.

They stopped hastily.

"What is that smell?" the first voice asked.

"It smells of human!"

"But that is impossible- it is still early."

"Unless…"

Belle heard the ominous sound of shifting, and then one of the voices said, in a mockingly kind tone:

"Come out little girl- we shan't hurt you."

"Yes," said another, "Alitash was not being serious when she said those things…"

Belle bolted up the steps, not caring that her feet pound the floor heavily or that her skirts swished loudly. Behind her, she could hear the sound of nails clicking the floor as a solitary lion pursued her. When she had not run far, the light from her torch, which had been flickering from the cold wind rushing past her, guttered out, leaving her in darkness. She stumbled forward for a moment, then tripped and fell on a step. She could not help a small moan that she let out as she felt her ankle twist beneath her.

The clicking, too, stopped, and Belle prayed that the lion was confused by the sudden darkness or decided to give up.

"Little girl," said the voice of the one called Alitash, "it is dark, is it not? It is a shame, for now you cannot see."

Belle clasped her sweating palms to her knees, which she had drawn up to her chest. She closed her eyes to will the lioness to just go away…

"But I can see everything." the voice whispered into her ear, her warm breath stirring the hair that had escaped Belle's bun. The end was imminent, inescapable…

She heard a loud roar from behind her. Though there was no light for her to see by, she turned her neck around to try to make out what was happening. As she did this, she could sense Alitash backing away from her.

"Alitash," said Misrak's voice, "what are you doing?"

"Do not act ignorant, Misrak." Alitash replied in a voice that feigned boredom. Belle could hear how it quivered.

"Get out. Now." Misrak's voice radiated authority, and it was the first time since meeting him that Belle could believe that he was a prince. She heard Alitash retreat, and shuddered when she felt a nose at her ankle.

"It is only twisted." Belle told Misrak, "Just help me get up."

"I am sorry for that." Misrak said, and she knew that he did not mean her ankle. "It is only in their nature as lionesses. They shall get used to you in time."

"You know," she said coolly, "I have heard much of what is intended by nature, but nothing about this castle is natural."

Misrak did not reply.

"Who is Alitash?"

Misrak's answer was filled with both affection and remorse.

"She is my sister."

Now it was Belle who did not speak. She kept a hand on Misrak's back as they finished climbing the steps, and she kept it there as she walked down the lighted hallway.

When they reached the stretch of wall once more, Misrak pounded a bit of the floor that looked like a loose rock with his paw. The rock sunk into the ground, and the wall opened. Misrak stepped through and Belle followed him. She kept her hand buried in his warm fur as they passed several rooms and until they reached a simple wooden door. It had a wooden panel, and on it was encrusted a blue jewel. She removed her hand to reach for the elaborately engraved handle.

"You shall sleep in the blue room." Misrak said. Belle opened the door and felt an irresistible smile creep onto her face.

The walls were painted sky blue, with cream colored crown molding along the top. There were several pieces of dark brown wooden furniture, and there was a giant four poster bed against the right wall. It had gauzy blue hangings around it, which were reflected in the looking glass just opposite it. It was only later when she would realize the only thing that it was missing was a window.

"Thank you." she breathed, feeling a surge of appreciation for the lion. There was no reply, and, looking around, she saw that he was gone. She only felt mildly disappointed, as, at that moment, she felt a giant wave of exhaustion sweep though her. She collapsed on the bed, and she felt more old and tired than she ever had before. Her eyes shut slowly, and the last thing she saw through them was the vase of lilies that stood upon the bedside table.