10
NERVES were starting to work on Belle as she made her way to the Great Hall to join the Prince for dinner as he'd asked. She'd nearly been late to dinner as Mrs. Potts had insisted she dresses respectfully. The old woman had admonished her for nearly attending the dinner in the clothes she had arrived at the castle.
Her dress now had specks of mud on the hem of her skirts. Mrs. Potts had ordered her stripped of the clothes on her back, for her to bathe and change, and had procured a lovely black linen gown and red vest that she claimed would complement her hair well. Belle had tried to protest, saying it was too much, but the old woman had insisted. She'd not left Belle's rooms until she'd bathed and changed. Belle cringed as the matronly old woman who was as gentle as a moth helped her dry off, well aware the fur that covered her body now caused her to smell like a wet dog.
But if the lady was bothered by it, then Mrs. Potts was good at hiding it as she hurried Belle along with a wave of her arm and mentioned for Belle to follow her to the Hall once she was dressed and a brush ran through her long dark hair to make her look somewhat presentable.
"Come along, poppet, the master hates tardiness in anyone but himself. I fear I have already made you nearly late to supper, there's no telling how upset his Highness will be," Mrs. Potts fretted as she moved with surprising speed for one advanced in years down the stairs.
Belle had trouble keeping up, having to lift the skirts of her new dress a bit to avoid tripping. "Yes, Mrs. Potts, I-I'm coming, it's just this dress is a bit difficult to move in," she grumbled under her breath, and though she did not see it, she heard the older woman chuckle good-naturedly as the finally stopped in front of the double doors to the Hall.
Mrs. Potts looked as though she wanted to say something, but thought better of it as she motioned with a jerk of her head to the door.
"The master should be within, though wait for him to sit down and eat," she instructed.
Before Belle could say anything further, the old woman turned on her heels and tottered off, leaving Belle to wonder what was in store tonight. Seeing no other choice but to enter, she let out a sigh and entered the room, gingerly closing the doors to the Great Hall behind her. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her heart nearly skipped a beat and her eyebrows rose in pure curiosity at the meal set on the table before her. Two place settings had been prepared, upon which were golden turkey breasts and a heaping mile of mashed potatoes drowning in dark gravy.
The head of the table and the spot to its right. Belle was confused. The settings were not exactly where she had expected them to be. The Prince seemed to want her close, for his chair was close enough that once they were sitting down, all he needed to do was reach over and touch her if he was of a mind to.
She did not understand. She reached out her paw and touched the silver, rolling her finger inward and looking towards the doorway. She nervously took a seat on the chair that was to the right.
She suspected the seat to the head of the table was where the Prince sat daily. Belle looked down at the food.
A part of her was famished. A part of her wanted nothing more than to pick up the golden turkey breast with her paws and shove it into her mouth whole. But the knowledge of who she was about to have supper with had her stomach twisting in an uncomfortable bundle of knots.
Even still, she reached out a fork, only to be halted by a voice.
"You came, Belle. You are very nearly late. I thought you might have had second thoughts about meeting me."
Belle ripped her hand away in surprise and looked up, surprised to see there was an equal measure of shock on the Prince's face as he looked at her.
She waited, her fork still in her paw.
"I see that Mrs. Potts helped you dress," the Prince muttered, and Belle felt a fiery heat creep to her cheeks underneath the fur that coated her face.
She could not tell if he was mocking her and trying to get a rise out of her or if it was a genuine compliment.
She swallowed down hard, the skin beneath her fur itching. She looked at the Prince in alarm to find that he was dressed smartly in a navy blue doublet and black leathers, having changed his clothes as well. It looked as though he had managed to put forth an effort regarding his appearance tonight for dinner, which surprised her
Considering how she now looked, she had believed the man's interest in her to have waned, but now Belle was not so sure. She was beginning to feel a little uneasy as she realized that possibility was one that she had not exactly anticipated. Belle shyly glanced down at her dress and red vest, grimacing as she realized these were Gaston's colors. She could not believe she had not noticed it until just now, but regardless, the dress fit her perfectly.
She wondered if she was the first to have worn it or if the Prince had dined with another woman before.
Belle frowned, the thought causing a strange pit to well in her stomach she did not know where it came from. She shook her head to herself and let out a little breath. Belle remembered she owed Prince Adam an answer.
"I…thank you, Highness," she responded, quite shyly.
"You look…handsome," Belle nervously smiled as the Prince shot her a grateful look but he did not speak. She tried not to reveal her fangs as the Prince came to the table holding two golden wine chalices and a tin flagon of spiced wine. She watched Prince Adam set it down and pour them both a little bit into each cup.
She was not a drinker, she knew that about herself. But Belle was beginning to wonder if perhaps she might need the assistance of alcohol tonight to get through this dinner and whatever it was the master of the castle had wanted to show her. She looked nervously toward the food.
"I hope you have an appetite, monsieur, it looks like your servants in the kitchens made far too much. It is too much for me to eat by myself," she said shyly. "Are you hungry?" she asked, to which the Prince nodded and watched her with curious eyes as he made up his plate. He smiled as he scooted his chair in closer and eyed her curiously.
"You should try the wine, Belle," he suggested as he took a sip from his goblet and pinched his lips together.
Belle looked at it a long moment in hesitation and then she nodded. She watched as the Prince's eyebrows rose as he studied her expectantly and he gave her a little smile.
Strangely enough, Belle found that it soothed her nerves, and even more so when he spoke.
"I haven't poisoned your meal or your drink, if that's what you're wondering, Belle. My chefs will be offended if you do not eat," the Prince muttered, studying her intently over the rim of his goblet as he drank. Sensing Belle's hesitations, he picked up his fork and knife and boldly reached over. Belle watched sheepishly as he cut up her food.
Her dark eyes, which were turning wide and glassy, rolled up to the Prince's handsome face. His skin held sort of a sun-kissed look from the faint glow of the lit candelabras in the middle of the table provided for ambiance and warmth. She was sure the Prince was about to say something that would throw her off guard. She could feel her breath catch in her throat. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, so loudly, that Belle was afraid the Prince heard.
The Prince finished cutting up Belle's meal for her just as her stomach growled loudly. She picked up her fork, which was small and awkward in her paw, and tried to eat as daintily as she could. The Prince spoke softly.
"After dinner, there is something I want to show you. Something that may or may not help us lift your wretched curse, and then I thought perhaps a walk around the grounds if you're up for it. Given our…earlier conversation, as a rule, you do not leave my side, but even along the grounds, fresh air might do us both good. It would help us to think over the details of this hex and ponder what it is that we're missing."
Belle stared at the wine, a chill running down her spine at the thought of going back outside, something that would never have troubled her when she was still human, but now…
She did not think she could bear it, going outside, and risking someone seeing her...like this. As a Beast.
She shivered.
"No. I...I can't." She reached for the wine cup with trembling fingers. Her hand froze as she brought it up and she looked over at Prince Adam. He was chewing thoughtfully, a strange expression on the man's placid, serene features.
He suddenly seemed to understand her. A light seemed to ignite behind Prince Adam's pale blue eyes.
The Prince emanated a tense exhale.
"You hide a lot, don't you, Belle?" he questioned, his tone somber, causing Belle to look up at him in surprise and alarm, her lips parted in shock.
She frowned beneath her fur. 'Hide?' What did he mean by that? She was not hiding from him, she was here sharing a meal with him at his table, wasn't he?
If she fled here and now, would the Prince think she was hiding from him then, was that it? she did not understand and the confusion must have been plastered all over her face, for Prince Adam elaborated quietly.
"I meant that…everything you say to me gives me the clue as to the girl beneath the spell. The girl I found wandering in your village. The one I want to know better. You could just cut it out, you know. Break the wall you've built around your heart and let me in. In my mind, Belle, I have wanted more time to linger with you since first laying eyes on you. Despite your prickly nature and peculiar talent for trouble," he muttered, a bright sheen forming behind his wintry blue eyes. Belle shook her head. She said nothing, as she was suddenly too shy to speak.
"You need fresh air, to stay locked away in my castle trapped like some sort of...animal, is not becoming, and despite my...earlier intentions, it was never my intent to keep you here as my prisoner, Belle. Believe it or not, I wanted you here with me as my guest, and...a part of me still does, it is why I brought you back," the Prince pointed out, to which Belle began to grow frustrated. She wanted to stay inside the sanctuary of these cold stone walls, dreary though the castle was. She could not go back outside. Not when Gaston and God know how many other villagers would be waiting for her. She nervously looked around and dropped her paws on the table's surface with a loud thud.
One of her claws accidentally hit the wine goblet and caused the goblet to shake. The Prince, without thinking how it seemed and seeming to forget his previous revulsion to touch her, reached out and touched Belle's forearm.
The moment Prince Adam touched her, Belle felt a searing heat in her veins, specifically her arm where his hand rested over top of hers.
She was grateful at least that the long sleeve of her dress prevented the man from feeling the fur that now covered every inch of her body under her clothes, but that was not what rendered the young Beast speechless.
She watched, wide-eyed and mesmerized, as a soft tendril of golden light emanated from her arm and connected their joined limbs. It was faint, this light, giving off a golden haze, but it was a beautiful piece of magic that Belle wondered if the Prince could see with his own eyes. She flicked her astonished eyes up to his face.
One look at the Prince's face told her that, no, he had not seen it, but Belle suspected it did not matter. It was surely a side effect of Agathe's magic, but one that she did not understand. Though her gut intuition was telling her that somehow, someway, they were bonded together, she and this Prince. For better or for worse. Belle forced her expression to relax and return to neutral as she did not want to explain the magical phenomenon she'd just seen.
She awkwardly turned her head to the side and coughed to clear her throat as the Prince began to speak.
"Why don't you want to go outside, Belle? You would be with me on the grounds, it is quite safe. No one is going to hurt you," he asked, his tone not sounding accusatory, but more curious.
Belle did not speak as she closed her eyes. She thought of Gaston, of what the other villagers would say who thought him the town's handsome hero to learn he'd encountered a 'Changeling' in the Wolves' Woods.
Gaston would be sure to encourage scouting parties to comb the woods, looking for her. The Prince's estate bordered those woods and sometimes she'd heard stories from other villagers of the glimpses they would see of the castle when walking through the forest. The anxiety she would feel at being outside the castle walls. The vulnerability.
She did not want to step outside the Prince's castle until her curse was broken, however long that would take, she would be willing to stay here. She did not want anyone from home, especially Papa, to see her like this.
Though her heart ached terribly, and she wished she could speak to her father somehow without seeing him.
She did not want to worry about him and more importantly, she did not want him to worry about her.
Now that she was a monstrous creature, a hideous Beast and no longer pretty, she thought she would feel out of control the moment she set foot outside the castle.
At least here within these walls, even the servants knew of her circumstances and how she had come to be like this, they pitied her. But her villagers would show her no mercy and that thought, Belle did not like to think about it.
She shrugged, not wanting to answer him, to which Prince Adam nodded. Curiously, Belle looked over at him and she watched as he took another sip of wine and thankfully, didn't press her further.
She dug her fingernails which were now more like long claws down the sides of her dress, well aware she was probably ruining the beautiful garment by scratching it, but Belle could not help it now.
Desperate for something to distract herself with, Belle picked up her fork and ate quickly, relishing the taste of the warm food, shoveling a bite of mashed potatoes and a bite of the turkey leg into her mouth. She tried to eat as daintily as she could and was careful not to ruin the dress Mrs. Potts picked out.
She bravely took a sip of the wine once she was finished with her dinner.
Surely, it had to be good. Gaston, LeFou, and even Papa drank it sometimes, and now, the Prince of the realm drank it so often as well. The moment the sour-tasting liquid left her lips she grimaced and pulled a face of revulsion.
Forgetting herself and the company she was keeping, she spat it back out into the glass with a slosh and she shuddered violently. How the Prince or even Papa could enjoy such a drink was beyond her ability to understand.
Belle was grateful that whichever servant had prepared their meal, likely Monsieur Lumiere, had left chalices of water by their place settings as well.
She reached for her cup quickly, bringing it to her lips and drinking it all to wash the taste away.
The Prince chuckled, the small sound of the man laughing snatched Belle from her senses, and she looked up in surprise, for a moment, feeling a solar flare of anger ignite within her chest, but then she realized he was not laughing to make fun of her, and she could feel herself relax a bit.
"Not to your liking, Belle?" The Prince smiled, almost kindly, at her.
Belle shook her head and stared at the Prince, surprised and taken aback by the shift in the man's attitude.
How he was behaving almost friendly towards her as if he meant his words and had taken them in when he'd said he wanted a truce to exist between them. No more insults, no more fighting, no more anything that would cause them strife. Perhaps he was willing to make amends for getting her cursed in the first place.
Even if his original intentions had been less than noble, the fact that the Prince seemed to be going to great lengths to rectify his mistake, spoke volumes to her now.
She remembered her words. "No, monsieur." Her voice was shy.
The Prince nodded in understanding and pushed his chair back and as he straightened his gait, he offered Belle his arm. Slowly, Belle copied his movements and she rose to her feet as she brushed her hands on the front of her skirt a bit. She stared at the handsome Prince's outstretched hand as though she'd never seen anything quite like it.
"If we're finished eating then, please follow me, Belle. There's…something I'd like for you to see. If you're going to be stuck here as my 'guest' for God knows how long, the least I can do is ensure that you're comfortable."
Belle was intrigued and her ears perked up at the new notion. With a nod of her head, she nervously smiled and shyly accepted his arm, thinking what an odd sight they must look as they left the privacy of the Great Hall and out into the open corridors of the castle with nowhere to hide from the servants' prying eyes and gossiping tongues.
Just look at us. The Beast and the Prince, we're perfect for each other, Belle thought bitterly to herself as she allowed herself to be led away by the realm's Prince.
Silently, and with a heart that was beating painfully against his chest and feeling a surge of emotion that Prince Adam could not quite comprehend, he led his prickly she-wolf away from the dining hall and towards the library, him leading her gently by the hand.
The Prince was pleased with his progress so far and he wanted Belle to know that if she was to stay here with him, albeit in this cursed monstrous form then she would be comfortable.
If she asked for something, he would give it to her, if there was but a chance that perhaps treating her better, this…love aspect that the witch had mentioned, was a key component to lifting Belle's curse.
He would see her return to the beautiful woman that she once was. As long as she stayed and did not wander off, he would give her whatever she wanted to ensure she caused no more trouble. He recalled seeing her reading when he'd first spotted her and thought that perhaps she would not be won over by sweet nothings, words meant to flatter, and instead, something more personable. Something like giving her new books to read if she was to stay.
Prince Adam quickened his pace down the hall, eager to reach his library.
Belle, a strange and funny beauty though she was, would be the first woman other than a maid or Mrs. Potts to set foot within the grand old place since Mother died. His knuckles clenched at the notion.
For the first time in his life, he was excited.
It was while he was leading her away towards the library and could only focus on the fact that he was holding her arm and he'd not flinched away in fear or disgust, that he felt the stirrings of something beginning in his chest.
The start of something new and a bit alarming.