BELLE was not at all prepared for the shocking scene before her that met her eyes. Her eyes widened as she took a hesitant step forward and her jaw dropped slightly in surprise. She blinked once, twice, three times, praying that what she was seeing was merely her mind playing a cruel, horrible trick on her, but no. When she opened them a fourth time, she realized with a heavy heart that was now in her throat, that what she was seeing was very, very real.
True to form, something had indeed spilled, a chalice of wine and a tray of supper, by the looks of it, the wine now seeping into the rich Persian carpet underneath her boots. Crumbs of food were scattered all over the floor, but that was not what Belle's stricken eyes were drawn to.
A small black puppy from the looks of it, and not older than a few months was cowering in the corner as a woman with striking strawberry blonde curls had backed the poor thing into the corner of the room and was shrieking at the top of her lungs.
The woman was brandishing what looked to be a hot poker iron toward the animal's face. Belle felt all the color drain from her face as she realized the Prince's bride meant to punish the animal by gouging one of its eyes out.
The poor puppy was utterly terrified and let out a whimpering yelp and darted through the Princess's skirts, making a beeline for Belle's outstretched arms as she hurriedly knelt into a crouch to scoop the terrified puppy into her arms.
Belle did her best to soothe the poor creature as it trembled violently in her arms and buried its head into her chest, letting out pathetic whimpers. She could feel the poor thing had started to cry as her sleeve was wet.
Belle felt a surge in her temper and as she cradled the poor puppy in her arms, the spiteful words passed her lips before she could even have time to process what she said.
"Shame on you! How dare you, picking on this poor little dog like this? What on earth has he done to you to warrant you nearly trying to poke one of his poor little eyes out? You are to marry this land's Prince, are you not, and be his Princess? You would behave so badly like this? What kind of example are you setting not only for the servants under you but for your future realm? Control yourself!" she snapped, her angry tone rising to match her growing mood.
When the Princess did not immediately reply, Belle sniffed and looked down at the puppy, who thankfully, seemed to be calming down and trembling less as she held it. She cradled the dog closer to her chest. Belle saw the blonde lift her gaze and lock eyes with her, seeing all too well the antagonism flaring in the Princess's eyes as Princess Circe bit down on her lower lip while her piercing eyes of catlike green made a quick assessment of Belle in her worn dress.
For a moment, as she held the trembling little dog in her arms, she felt self-conscious and decided to convince herself that she neither looked nor smelled funny to this noble woman of pure French blood. The Princess eyed Belle curiously, then lowered the poker and set it aside, clasping her fingers together.
"I'm so sorry, I must have missed your name…?" she purred in a smooth velvety voice that immediately set Belle on edge. Her tone was too honeyed and too sweet, and too false.
Nothing this Princess sounded sincere. Nevertheless, Belle was quick to be mindful of even her feigned courtesies and forced herself to remain in one piece as she saw no other choice but to answer the lady. Her face flushed and with a soft forced and nervous smile, Belle looked down.
"I'm Belle. I am…your master's new maid, Princess Circe. The...honor to be here is mine."
It was clear by the expression on the Prince's betrothed's face that she was not made aware that her fiancé had a new maid in his employment. Belle was quick to pick up on the Princess's hesitations and spoke up in hopes of diffusing the woman's anger and rectifying the situation.
"I, er, came here to the castle tonight with a friend from my village, Your Highness. My father has recently passed away, I have no other family I can go to, or else I would be with them. Monsieur LeFou, the man who brought me here had mentioned that one of the maids here in the castle had been dismissed, and the Prince needed a new replacement sent to him," she stammered. Belle was unsure of how much she could reveal to the Prince's bride-to-be but thought it could do her current situation no harm to enlighten her about why she was in the Wing.
She swallowed hard and her tongue suddenly felt thick in her mouth and a sheen of sweat started to glitter along her hairline as the Princess's catlike green eyes narrowed in suspicion as she straightened her gait and raised her head. She looked over Belle's right shoulder. Finally comprehending Belle's words, Princess Circe opened her mouth as her green eyes lit up with enlightenment, but kept whatever she had been about to say, she kept to herself.
She nodded instead, and after a moment, she spoke, though her voice was dangerously quiet.
"And so, to take Collette's place, the old mental bat Cogsworth hired you?" Circe snorted, crinkling her nose and pulling a face of revulsion as her gaze hardened and lingered on the muddied and torn hem of Belle's simple blue dress, one of only two dresses that she owned.
"Yes, Your Highness, the man did," Belle answered, doing her best to maintain as level-headed a tone as possible.
Though, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide her dislike and distrust for this Princess.
She could feel her defenses rise and her tone was growing colder the longer the seemingly arrogant and spoiled princess bride stared at her in this manner, as if she were no better than dirt stuck to the bottom of her slipper.
Belle could only watch as the Princess scrunched her face in disgust as her eyes once more made a sweeping scan of her attire, those piercing eyes of catlike green finally stopping and coming to rest at a smudge of dirt on her cheek. Belle stiffened and wished she'd thought to wash up before dinner.
It did not look well at all for her to greet the land's soon-to-be new Princess this way, but she was here, the situation could not be helped. Belle sighed and waited for her to speak.
"Why were you punishing this poor dog? For what reasons?" Belle snapped, her temper quickly getting the better of her as she heard the little puppy whine in her arms. She glanced down and gingerly set the dog back down, though the animal was quick to scamper behind the skirts of her dress out of fear of angering the Princess even further.
The edges of Princess Circe's mouth pinched down into a frown.
"The disgusting little creature tracked mud all over the carpet in from outside and whichever servant this little whelp belongs to, I would have them flogged in front of the entire castle staff to be made an example out of and then dismissed from the castle this very night for this insolence. The animal's owner should take better care to mind him if they don't want the Prince to put the beast out of its misery, he's a menace to anyone he comes across," Circe huffed indignantly.
A wave of icy cold washed over Belle to hear the Prince's fiancé speak so calmly and quietly about the Prince killing an innocent little puppy over something so trivial, and when she tried to speak, at first, it felt like there was a gag on her mouth as she struggled to search her mind for the right words to say.
She knew it was a risk to supplicate the Princess's temper, but she knew that she had to try. If she did not, then the frightened pup cowering behind her was as good as dead. She did not want that to happen to the poor dog.
Belle exhaled a shaky breath and hesitantly looked the Princess Circe in those unnerving green eyes of hers that almost reminded her of a panther in nature. A heavy silence fell between the two young women, but Belle could practically feel the thick tension in how this Princess Circe was seeing her, without her speaking. And she was quick to decide that she did not like it one bit. Her eyes, cold green eyes, were devoid of any good emotion. She was smiling, but something of her overall expression chilled the very blood in Belle's veins, nearly causing her to shiver.
Belle swore she saw a tightening of Princess Circe's jaw, but what was it? Hatred? Loathing? Jealousy, perhaps, that she was to be the Prince's maid? Whatever her reasons, the inventor's daughter found herself swallowing hard.
Belle exhaled a shaky breath and hesitantly looked the Princess Circe in those unnerving green eyes of hers that almost reminded her of a panther in nature. A heavy silence fell between the two young women, but Belle could practically feel the thick tension in how this Princess Circe was seeing her. And she was quick to decide that she did not like it one bit. Her eyes, cold green eyes, were devoid of any good emotion. She was smiling, but something of her overall expression chilled the very blood in Belle's veins, nearly causing her to shiver.
Belle swore she saw a tightening of Princess Circe's jaw, but what was it? Hatred? Loathing? Jealousy, perhaps, that she was to be the Prince's maid? Whatever her reasons, the inventor's daughter found herself swallowing hard.
It took Belle another moment or two to summon enough strength in her voice to speak, and when she did, she could not hide the warble of fear in her tone.
"Then punish me if you must. I will take responsibility for the dog if he does not belong to anyone here in the castle. The dog is mine, Your Highness. You may punish me if you still feel the need to do so, but do not hurt the dog, he's just a puppy," Belle boldly proclaimed, trying to sound braver than she felt as she dared not avert her gaze.
The edges of the Princess's lips twitched upward into a mocking little smile. She breathed out what Belle guessed was supposed to be her laughter and threw her head back as she laughed.
It took Princess Circe a moment to collect herself. When she returned her gaze to the confused brunette in front of her, the humor was gone from her eyes, snuffed out like a candleflame.
"I see now why the old man has hired you in Collette's place. But it is going to take more than a sharp tongue to suffer the Prince's company, Belle. You will have to get used to it, you know. Being called beautiful. That is what your name means, does it not? Beauty," The Princess chuckled morosely, folding her arms across her middle.
Belle felt her cheeks burn and flush with humiliation.
She struggled for what to say, though before she could, the sound of a man's voice, clipped and curt, rent through the air behind her, causing a cry of surprise to be ripped from her lips.
"What is going on? What is the meaning of this? I heard screaming. Would one of you two ladies be so...kind...as to explain yourselves?"
Belle froze and felt all the blood drain from her face. She need not turn around and face the owner of the voice to know that this surely had to be the Prince speaking.
Gingerly, Belle turned around to face the speaker, letting out a little breath she did not know she'd been holding as she found herself face-to-face with the master of the castle. Her eyes widened as she arched her neck as the nobleman stalked forward, his wintry blue eyes narrowed in suspicion as the Prince of these lands glared at her.
Her resolve to do what she could to diffuse the tension nearly failed her as Belle realized she could not avert her gaze forever. She exhaled a shaky breath and hesitantly lifted her gaze and locked eyes with the Prince. She guessed his age to be somewhere around twenty and one.
The man's icy blue eyes were cold and nearly emotionless, and easily the most jarring feature of all. The rest of the Prince's face, was, well, princely, for lack of a better word.
The young Prince had the body of the handsome princes in the books she enjoyed reading so much before she had forced herself to grow up and wax and seal off the notion of ever meeting a Prince of her own someday, especially one who was charming and good.
Her fantasies would do her no good in a world that was cruel to women, especially an idealistic one and a daydreamer such as Belle had proven to be.
Was he not a man who seemed to hold no warmth or affection or love in his heart, Belle would have said that she found him handsome, though, by the manner that he was looking at her now, she felt her stomach begin to turn in revulsion of him. Belle curiously flicked her gaze towards the Princess, though it quickly became clear to her the celestial-like creature whom the Prince would marry soon enough was enjoying her obvious discomfort as she seemed tongue-tied in front of the man whom she now called master, for better or worse.
She's waiting to see what I will say, Belle, realized, her eyes widening as a coil in her gut lurched. She remembered she owed the Prince an answer and returned her gaze to him.
She closed her eyes for a moment to steel herself, willing her temper to remain cool.
Papa had told her several times throughout her life she had inherited Mama's temper, though it had only ever manifested when she'd had to suffer Gaston's company for extended periods or to defend LeFou.
"I was merely removing my…my dog from the room, Your Highness, he got away from me," Belle began in as steady a voice as she could manage, though she winced as she realized how soft and meek she sounded. "I know that I should not have come to the West Wing without your permission, Your Grace, but the Princess, she screamed and I only wanted to help—"
Belle halted herself as the Prince raised a manicured hand that looked as though the man had never done a hard day's work in his life and stopped her from speaking. Belle, fearing she was making the situation worse, clamped her lips shut and dared not to speak until she was spoken to again, though her heart was pounding against her ribs painfully.
Belle thought there was a strange sort of beauty to his face, and his eyes, she remained stuck on them. The Prince's eyes were the clearest, coldest, and brightest shade of wintry blue she had ever seen, but what scared her was the relative blankness of his eyes.
She could detect no emotion within them, yet she knew it just had to be a cover for the tumultuous sea of emotions she suspected lurked underneath. The horrible stories she had heard of this Prince who was supposedly cruel and lacked any sort of love in his heart came rushing back to her in a wave of knowing so strong that it nearly stole the breath from Belle's lungs. For one wild moment, Belle feared that the Prince could see right through her.
But then, she calmed down and forced herself to breathe, reminding herself that this man, Prince, or no Prince, was just that. Just a man, like anyone else, regardless of his status.
The thought gave Belle some bold courage and she forced herself to steel herself against him and whatever harsh words he had to impart upon her.
She told herself that she was not afraid of this man. Belle lifted her chin and somehow managed to offer the Prince standing expectantly in front of her a tiny bow, slightly mocking and far too short to be considered anything less than teasing him. But never once did she break her gaze. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he straightened his posture and licked his lips.
Oh, dear. Now she had done it.
Belle clenched her teeth and cursed herself for her boldness and her mother's inherited temper, but her pride would not allow her to do anything less than this.
This man, as cruel as he was, might be her master now, but that did not mean she would abide by him hurting and perhaps even going as far as to kill an innocent puppy.
The Prince cocked his head slightly to the right, seemingly studying her response to his presence in front of her, and then flicked his almost bored gaze to the mess behind the two women that the frightened puppy had caused.
"I would hardly call that a bow, mademoiselle, much less a gesture appropriate for a woman. It is the men who bow, women are intended to curtsy. Do they not educate you properly in whatever hovel of a village you come from, girl?" he commented at last in a smooth languid voice that immediately set Belle on edge. She straightened her gait. "Tell me, woman, do you intend to make a habit of such disrespect towards your Prince?" he asked, leering at Belle.
She knew the Prince was only trying to get a rise out of her, but she could not allow herself to retort and make the situation even worse for herself than it already was.
Belle took a deep breath and let out the breath slowly before pushing forward.
Perhaps she could get through this unpleasant encounter with the subtlety and class of a woman like her mother had been, or so she remembered Papa telling stories of her.
"My apologies, Your Highness, if you thought my bow to be intended as a show of disrespect," she replied, her voice steady and calm and cold—too cold.
She saw him raise an eyebrow but said nothing.
Eager, Belle continued, aware she was babbling and speaking too fast, but due to her nerves, she could not make herself slow down.
"I merely wish to retrieve my dog and I will leave you alone unless either one of you has any further need of me tonight," she stammered. "I had hoped to introduce myself to both of you, for I am to be the previous maid's replacement, but I can see now that I was mistaken in coming here. I know that I ought to be punished for venturing into your West Wing without permission. I am willing to accept whatever punishment you see fit to give me, sir, however, I will not allow anyone here to hurt my dog."
Belle jutted her chin out defiantly and stood as straight and tall and proud as she could muster as a shadow of anger flitted across the Prince's angular features, and for a moment, made him seem monstrous. Even beastly. A chill ripped through her, but she was not given time to ponder how frightening he looked as he spoke again in his smooth, cold tone.
"Won't you indeed?" he murmured, almost sounding thoughtful as he folded his hands behind his back as he strode forward, looking her over slowly, and with great pleasure, she realized with a jolt. The Prince continued to stare at her, his mouth pinching and turning downward.
Slowly, the man's head turned downward as well, and Belle felt a cold chill run over her, and her stomach turn in disgust.
Now she understood that without the slightest doubt in the world, the Prince who was engaged to another, a Princess of noble blood, was slowly, openly, and without shame whatsoever, ogling her.
Her face turned red and Belle purposefully averted her gaze towards the puppy, who now thankfully had calmed and seemed even happier, its tail wagging as its curious gaze found Belle's dark eyes. She was pretty enough, she supposed, with her dark hair and dark brown eyes that had come from Mama, or so Papa had been fond of telling her often.
She had been used to men back home in the village, especially Gaston, leering at her backside whenever she ventured into town to the marketplace, but the fact that he was Prince of these lands and his silent appraisal was occurring while she was trying to diffuse his bride's anger, stuffed the chills down her throat.
She did not know what to make of it. Of him. She was at a loss for words.
"Have you a name, girl, or will I have to draw it out of you by force? Please do not make me say it to you a second time, Mademoiselle. If you are to be my new maid, then you will learn quickly that I hate saying things a second time," he asked, making an odd face.
She frowned. She couldn't be sure, but she thought for some reason, he was almost looking repulsed, though whether his disgust was directed at her or himself for unknown reasons, she couldn't say.
Belle flushed and managed to lift her chin just slightly, staring the Prince down in a way she suspected no mere maid had ever done before, for she thought she saw Princess Circe perk up in surprise.
"Belle, Your Highness," she answered quietly, loving how prettily her name flowed right off her tongue. It was a good name, one Mama had loved.
"Of course it is," he snorted, making an odd noise of dissent through his nose.
He was unimpressed by the reveal of her name, though what he said next, not even his bride could have guessed as he lifted his gaze and locked eyes with her. He chuckled, a deep throaty sound with mocking, a thing that he was prone to doing so naturally.
"You are not afraid of me, mademoiselle, are you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and staring at Belle, fascinated, as though she were some wild creature in a menagerie that he'd caught and did not know what to do with. His smile widened until the look was almost predatory as Belle swallowed a lump in her throat and did not dare to break eye contact first.
"Should I be afraid of you, Prince?" she replied.
A shiver ripped through her as the man's smile widened.
It took the flustered new maid a moment to realize the Prince was enjoying this, enjoying her blatant disrespect, enjoying this little battle of wits, this back-and-forth banter. He raised a finger and beckoned her with a little wag of his finger, summoning her.
"Come closer, pretty Belle," he muttered, the command uttered as soft as a whisper.
Belle could only comply and walked, stiffly yet proudly, towards her new master and stopped until she was a few feet away.
"Closer," the Prince commanded again, this time, sounding slightly perturbed. "Contrary to what stories you may hear of me, girl, I do not bite the women that work for me," he told her, almost sneering at her now.
She shivered as she caught a glimpse of the wicked glimmer behind his white smile. Belle frowned. She thought she could almost taste the bitterness of the Prince's little private joke.
Look at me, Belle. My people call me a monster, a Beast, but I am just a man, and if my teeth are sharp, then it is all your fault.
Belle bravely looked at the man who she prayed would not become her enemy however long she was to remain in the castle, though for how many rules she had broken tonight and for daring to be so flippant to the man's bride, she thought it would be a miracle if the Prince did not have her thrown out or killed for this.
The Prince's eyes penetrated deeply into hers, and there, the two of them stayed locked in one another's gaze, the maid and the Prince, neither one looking away. Belle did her best not to shiver as she waited with gritted teeth while waiting for this, whatever 'this' happened to be for her, to be over. She wanted nothing more than to turn her heel and flee. She was not so sure she disliked what she saw in those cold wintry blue eyes of his, and that thought alone was more frightening to her than any punishment this Prince could bestow upon her.
He smiled, a dangerous smile just then, and Belle thought she was beginning to understand why some in the village spoke in hushed tones of their land's Prince as a beast, a vile man.
He was, in every sense of the word beast, just that. Monstrous, even, she would say.
He was dangerous, a cold-blooded creature, and a patient man. She knew he was more dangerous than he looked, and the Prince's silent, contemplative nature meant more. She knew it from how Gaston behaved and could recognize when there was danger soon.
"I should have you turned out of my home this very instant for these theatrics, girl, and I should have the ruddy dog killed for daring to walk where it knows not to be. I recognize the pup, it's one of the offspring of the hounds I use for hunting. The kennel master is in charge of the dogs, but he has failed in his duties to keep an eye on the litter, it would seem. For that, the man will be punished, as will you, pretty Belle," he spoke quietly, and thoughtfully.
The Prince walked towards her until their noses almost touched. He was several inches taller than her, and Belle immediately felt dwarfed by comparison. She did not know if the man was going to attempt to take her by the face and kiss her, if that was his design, or if he would raise his hand against her and slap her for daring to talk back to him and his bride.
She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable stinging impact of his fist against her cheek, but the pain did not come. When she had recovered some courage, she peeked open one eye and stared as the Prince turned his face from hers and began walking away from her, towards his Princess, keeping his hands neatly folded behind his back.
"It is no secret that my Heads of House know I have been searching for quite some time for a new maid to tend to my quarters here in the West Wing, girl. The rooms in the Wing are of impressive size, and I have failed to find someone who can manage them properly. The last young mademoiselle who held the position for you proved to be a…disappointment if you will, but I suspect, however, that you will do. Mrs. Potts will mentor you, as will her niece, Laure."
Belle could not help but gape, her mouth going slightly slack in surprise as her eyebrows receded so far up onto her forehead that they nearly disappeared into her hairline.
Whatever she had been expecting the Prince would proclaim, this was…not it.
She was not going to be let go, then?
The furrow of confusion between her brows deepened as she looked at him, though she realized there was no question in the man's voice as he had just announced his decision.
The Prince's mind was made up, his decision made, and she would do well not to argue.
He was not asking her to stay on as his maid, she realized with a heavy feeling forming in her stomach. He was commanding her to do this, and she realized that LeFou was right, in a way.
Though he had been speaking to her earlier tonight of Gaston when she had gone to LeFou for his help, she now realized the same advice applied here.
You don't have a choice, Belle.
Even now, she could hear LeFou's nervous voice inside her head, echoing his words.
A woman yields to the man, and if you wish to stay alive, then you will give the man all he wants.
Belle felt a shiver run through her as she realized, that by having accepted this position, fearing a married life to Gaston over this new precarious position she now found herself in as the Prince's maid, he could easily stake his claim and call her his.
She would be nothing more to this egotistical man than a pretty trinket or a bauble to add to his collection until the day came when he grew bored of her. And after that….Belle almost did not want to think about it. She feared she would be thrown out onto the streets, and without her Papa left to guide her, she was well and truly alone in this dark and cruel world.
For a fleeting moment, Belle felt panic.
Stay away from him, a warning bell chimed in the back of her mind. If you get too close to the man, he could kill you.
And yet, Belle knew that she had no choice. No choice was available to her now whatsoever. But even as the disparaging thought flitted through her mind, she realized that this was, perhaps, as good as it got for someone like her with no other marriage prospects, save for Gaston's, the one man she thought she wanted the least in the world.
She had no other family to call upon for help, and almost next to no possessions to call her own. The conflicting raging tide of emotions welling to life inside her chest and causing her to feel dizzy calmed. Perhaps….for now, this position would do.
This time, she did not hesitate to gather fistfuls of her dress and sank into a perfect graceful curtsy, keeping her head bowed low as she studied the puppy by her feet too intently.
"I expect you to call upon either one of us if you are needed. Mrs. Potts and her niece will explain the specifics to you in the morn. For the moment, leave, and take the mutt with you. Since you have agreed to take full responsibility for it, if I catch him wandering any place in the castle beside the servants' quarters or out on the grounds, the dog is as good as meat for the chefs, girl," he growled, ignoring the look of fright on Belle's face. "See to it the filthy mongrel never sets foot in this room or any part of the West Wing ever again," the Prince commanded, unimpressed as Belle knelt to a crouch and scooped up the little pup.
Belle kept her back paraded to the men as she hurried for the door, her mind reeling.
She needed a moment alone to process what had happened.
"You honor me, Your Grace, with your…kindness. As Prince, you are merciful. Your...kindness, will not be forgotten, sir," she called, not bothering to look over her shoulder.
Though she felt the burn of the man's gaze nearly burning a hole through the back of her skull. Belle shivered as she could hear the smile in the Prince's arrogant tone as she stopped by the room's door.
"I know that I do, pretty Belle. And do not forget the mercy that I have shown you and the mutt here today. I expect, in return for my kindness, as you call it, you will give me something in exchange. I look forward to seeing you in the morning. I take my breakfast at six. Please…do not be late."
She froze, her breath catching in her throat.
Belle turned her head slightly to better catch her last glimpse of the Prince and his nearly insufferable bride-to-be as she twisted the doorknob and made to leave. Much to her fear and growing excitement, both the Prince and the Princess were looking straight at her.
Belle, with the puppy in her arms that was now hers, fled the West Wing in such haste, wrapped in fear of her ability to feel the way that the Prince and Princess's eyes had followed her to the exit.