"But I don't know where my father is!" Belle exclaimed, "Listen, if you take me away, when he comes back he won't know where I am. Don't do this to him."

Even better! thought Gaston evilly, Once Maurice finds out Belle's locked up in the Maison des Lunes, he'll convince Belle to do anything in order to get out – and that thing is marry me!

"Come along Belle," D'Arque continued, stepping over to Belle and grabbing her arms behind her back, "Let's not make a scene now."

Now that Belle was directly in front of him, she could see him more closely than she ever had before in her life – and, certainly, more closely than she'd ever WANTED to see him. He was in his late 40's, dark-skinned and strange-looking, with a hooked nose and an eye-patch over his right eye, the light and flimsy material allowing any observer to see the red socket where his eye used to be. Belle felt a chill go down her spine as she began to struggle with D'Arque, not getting anything resembling an upper-hand. And, she thought bitterly to herself, even if I did get the upper-hand, that mob would intervene. It would be easier just to go with him.

She would figure out a way to get out of this one. She'd read enough books that she knew she had discovered the escape route from D'Arque's hell-house. She just wasn't sure where it WAS, yet. But it would come to her. It had to.

"Monsieur D'Arque!" Belle pleaded, but it proved to no avail. She knew it would.

As D'Arque led her off, she began rolling over the plot of every book she'd ever read… and even ones she hadn't and had just heard about. What would they have done?

By the time she arrived at the Maison des Lunes, D'Arque was surprised that she had quit struggling and now seemed to be merely thinking.

That's dangerous, D'Arque thought to himself, a crazy, book-reading, independent thing. That is insanity in its purest form.

D'Arque locked the door and attempting to keep an eye on Belle while he flipped through his list of inmates. However, keeping an eye on two different things, he had discovered, was quite difficult when one only has one eye.

Belle began to wander around the Maison des Lunes, peeking into cells with a sort of fascinated horror. These people can't all be crazy, she thought to herself, so what vindictive grudge put them there? Was it anything like the vindictive grudge that put ME here?

Then, with a frustrated sigh, she thought about her father. What would he do when some townsperson inevitably told him what had happened to her when he returned home? She tried to remember how long he'd said he would be away, but in her state of shock she couldn't think of it.

Locked in this asylum with all of these inmates… and that horrid D'Arque my only window to the outside world! What will I do?

Her thoughts were cut into by the angry rapping of D'Arque's fingers on a desk.

"Don't wander off," he snapped, reaching out and yanking her arm in the direction of the room he had chosen for her. It was a dark, damp, enclosure, more a cell or a closet than a room. There was a wooden slab that was meant to be a bed, complete with a set of straps attached to it. Belle's eyes rose in fear, and D'Arque shoved her towards the bed.

There are only two things that can happen now, Belle thought to herself, and neither of them is very appealing.

She readied herself to fight him if it was one of those choices. But to her surprise, D'Arque's confident, vicious look faded slightly.

"Belle," he said slowly, "If you promise not to escape, I won't use those." He gestured to the straps. Oh, I'm so glad, Belle thought sarcastically. "But I will lock the door. I can't have dangerous inmates running wild. This world," he intoned, "is full of monsters that must be caged." He raised one finger, and Belle could see that his fingernails were slightly long, curved and as unseemly looking as the rest of the man. She could also now get a good look at his remaining eye. It was a mix of color between brown and a sort of blue black, with a sickly yellow lining. Despite her anger and hatred, Belle felt a pang of pity for the man. With an appearance like that, it seemed obvious that he would end up being a villain. It's not as if the town would accept him as anything else.

But that pity would not turn into SYMPATHY, Belle knew. She was still outraged and disgusted at this man. Who would do Gaston's bidding like that, and why? Because Gaston could pay. That had to have been it. Gaston would pay his price, and D'Arque would imprison her. What a fiend.

She narrowed her eyes on his.

"Do you plan to leave?" she snapped. D'Arque flinched.

"If you so desire. Enjoy your stay," he shot back, slamming and locking the door. He sighed.

She really was such a pretty girl. He could see what Gaston saw in her.

If only…