As she waited anxiously for Prince Demetrius to arrive, Belle picked flowers and tore the petals off of them, chanting in a low voice the well-known mantra, "He loves me…he loves me not…he loves me…he loves me not…" over and over again.
The prince finally did gallop onto the scene, on the same horse he had ridden the last time she saw him. It was early afternoon, and his cheeks were flushed with the pleasure of a quick, hard ride, and he was laughing as he swung down from his horse.
"Dearest Belle, how do you do this day? Did you manage to change the blood in your veins over night?"
Belle smiled as he caught her hand in his own kissing it lightly. The way he moved now, so sure of himself, not cynical at all, (which she had seen in him yesterday) made her heart swell with fondness for him. She laughed with him, and did the curtsey he taught her without a flaw.
"I'm pleased to inform my lordship that I did manage to change my blood. My father is now a Marquee."
"A Marquee?" Demetrius chuckled, delighted. "Well, that makes you even better then the little Italian wench, doesn't it?" He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and pulled her to his horse. "Come, I shall take you away from this place. Come with me, now!" He pulled her hand insistently.
"Shouldn't I let my family know? They'll be worried about me, I can't just leave." As much as she wanted to be carried away by this handsome rouge, her loyalty to her family was too strong to allow it. "Please?"
Demetrius tossed her a smile fit for a rascal more then a prince, and picked her up by the waist. He set her down on the horse, sidesaddle, and climbed up after her. Cassie yipped at them, and Belle shushed her. "I'll be back soon, Cassie. Just wait here…!"
Without warning Demetrius spurred the horse, who reared up and galloped off. Belle was thankful when the beast slowed, and also thankful to see that her beau was going in the direction of her home.
Belle blinked stupidly at her parents. "What do you mean?" she whispered, her hand rising to her mouth.
She and Demetrius had ridden to her home, and rushed in, the good news rushing out of Belle's mouth in a torrent. Now, by her father's grim face you wouldn't think it was such a good idea.
Silently he jerked his head to his right. Belle looked, and for the first time noticed a young man about her age in the room. He was standing there, red faced, looking at his feet.
"Young Cyrus just came here to ask for your hand in marriage. We talked it over, and your father and I thought it would be best if you two were to get married." Clara tried to put a hand on Belle's shoulder, but she roughly shrugged it off.
"What do you mean by this? I'm not some sheep, just to bargained with! I've fallen in love, and I want to marry Demetrius!" A small part of her told Belle that she was being both overdramatic and childish, but the larger part heartily agreed. She always had been in charge of her life, and things were not about to change now.
"Arabella, you stop this nonsense. You're going to marry Cyrus, and that's final." Her father's tone was hardly ever stern with her, and when it was he always used her full first name. Hearing that hateful name pass his lips, Belle started crying.
"I can't believe you're doing this to me. I want out of this stupid family!" Belle dramatically ran up the stairs, leaving Demetrius scowling. With a swirl of his traveling cloak, he went outside.
And then, under the guise of absolute despair, Belle cried her beautiful blue eyes bloodshot in the space of a few hours. Miles had been sent to fetch both the flock of sheep and dear Cassie, who was Belle's only companion in the advancing darkness.
Since her main goal for the evening was to avoid contact with all other humans, it nearly went needless to say that she went without supper that evening. The pain of her empty stomach was nothing compared to the ripping pain of her broken heart. Cassie was distraught, and her whimpers were a small comfort to her mistress.
How could her parents be so cruel? Belle had never asked for anything ever in her life, save for this one luxury. But was it really so frivolous, to ask to be allowed to marry the person that she loved? Demetrius was the perfect gentleman, but besides that, Belle loved him. She had adored him from the first moment she laid eyes on him. He was so unlike any man she had ever seen. Part of it, she supposed, was the Italian coloring he inherited from his mother. But it was so much more than his dark hair (which curled roguishly over his ears) or his similarly dark eyes and skin…it was the noble way in which he carried himself, his commanding nature, and his deliciously smooth voice, and a thousand other things about him that Belle had yet to discover.
And then there was Cyrus. The bumbling idiot, Belle thought, and immediately reproached herself for it. He was no such thing. In fact, Cyrus had always been quite pleasant with her. He always took care to speak a greeting when they passed one another in the village, or say a few words during longer encounters. Belle, in turn, was unfailingly polite. However, she hand never given much thought to her courtesy. It was the same way she treated Gwendolyn's father, for example, but she certainly didn't want to marry him!
Also, Belle thought to herself as she absently stroked Cassie's fur, nobody could argue that Cyrus was as pleasing to the eye as Demetrius. That would be naught but a blatant lie.
Once again, Belle had to chastise herself. Cyrus wasn't disfigured or hard-faced, but the fact was that he was no prince. His blond hair was thing and neatly cut, and hung as flat as Belle's own. Although his emerald eyes did shine in a most pleasing manner, Cyrus wasn't the man she wanted to marry. That particular description fell to a certain prince, whose voice was sweeter than an entire chorus of angels.
It was at this moment, as Belle was reflecting on all the good qualities of her would-be lover, that a soft tap on her window was heard. Instantly Belle went to the window and opened it. She was disappointed to find her prince sitting astride his steed, hefting another rock in his left hand in case the first one had not roused her.
Understanding came, then hesitation, and last but most certainly not least, determination. Belle quickly snatched up her dark blue cloak, slipped on her boots and tucked Cassie under her arm. With utmost care she climbed down from her second story window. Quick as a flash, the prince, the shepherdess, and the Icelandic sheepdog had stolen off into the night.
A/N: Goodness, this is short, isn't it? Very tiny chapter…okay, sorry for it and whatnot. As I'm writing this, I'm about halfway through the next chapter, and it shouldn't be quite so short. Also, June 6-25 don't bother to check for updates. I will be out of the country on this Student Ambassador thingie, and will not have access to my computer. However, I will still be writing, so maybe I will give you more then one chapter upon my return! (Not likely, but we can hope…)