Chapter 3
The door closed and the door was locked. Within seconds Belle had seen every inch of her cell. They had called it "luxurious," but to her it was a prison, nothing more, nothing less. She felt like the walls were closing in on her.
"GASTON! You will pay for this!" she screamed angrily. She banged her fists loudly on the door. He didn't react, but he was still out there. She was sure of that. He couldn't leave her here. She had done nothing wrong! Except hurt his stupid pride. "Gaston! Let me out!"
"Listen to that, Paul," Gaston said with an amused smile. He was leaning against Belle's cell door, enjoying the sound and vibration of her desperate banging. "Music to my ears."
"Rather loud music," Monsieur d'Arque replied calmly.
"Mark my words, " Gaston said with a smile. He looked at the door, feeling very pleased with himself. "She may be screaming at me now, but within a few days, she will be begging to become my wife."
"Do you want to wait for that day in here?"
Gaston shook his head. Although it would have been entertaining to listen to Belle exhaust herself and finally give in to her fate, he wanted to go hunting in the morning. "No, I'll go back to the village. I'll visit her tomorrow afternoon."
"Let's have a drink before you leave."
"GASTON!" Belle shouted. He could hear her! He hadn't left! He had to get her out of here, he just had to! It wasn't fair!
Then she heard a scraping sound from the door.
Whew…. Belle sighed and felt a wave of solace come over her. Thank you, Lord… she thought in relief. Gaston wasn't going to let her stay in here all night. It had been all a joke - a cruel one, but still a joke. He wanted to teach her a lesson. He wanted to scare her. And she had to admit that he had succeeded. She had been scared to death when he showed her the treatments the inmates received. But he would never harm her.
She would apologize to Gaston for everything she had said. It galled her, but it was a small price to pay for her freedom. And then they all could go home again. In future, she would pay more attention to what she said to Gaston. Maybe she could make it clear to him in a quiet conversation that they would never marry, but maybe in the future, they would be able to understand each other better.
She closed her eyes and sighed. She waited for the door to open.
"What did Madame Beaumont tell you about screaming alley cats?"
With a shock Belle opened her eyes. The door wasn't open. All that was open was the observation window in the door. Monsieur d'Arque's face was partially shown. "Mademoiselle?" he repeated.
Belle backed away and sat down on the bed. "She gags them," she said, looking at the floor. It had all been for nothing, she realized in dismay. They were going to keep her here after all!
"Quite right. You are a clever girl."
Monsieur d'Arque disappeared and Gaston's face appeared. "Belle…" he said sympathetically.
Belle looked up and ran to the door. "Gaston! Get me out of here!" She reached her arm through the observation window, hoping that Gaston would change his mind. She touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers.
Gaston had to restrain himself not to propose to Belle again. He took her hand and gently kissed it. "Belle, this hurts me more than it hurts you."
"Gaston, please…"
He pushed her hand back and gave her one last smile. "We'll see each other soon, Belle." He closed the window.
"Gaston?" Belle said more softly. " Gaston?" She heard his footsteps. They were walking away. He was leaving her here. She was alone. There was no way out. The door was too thick and strong to break down. The window was too high to climb out.
She lay down on the bed. It was hard and uncomfortable. The single blanket was so small it hardly covered her. Not to mention that the blanket was extremely thin. And this was not a warm winter. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, hoping that tomorrow things would look better.
A few floors above Belle's cell, Paul d'Arque and Gaston entered the office. "This was quite a night, Gaston."
"And it all went according to plan." Gaston sat down in one of the chairs next to the fireplace and placed his feet on the table. He leaned back and mused over everything that had happened that night.
Bringing Belle here had been a brilliant plan. If she had accepted his marriage proposal right away, it would have taken him a lot of time and effort to turn her into the perfect wife. But now, the people here would do it for him. They would help her to get rid of that bad habit of reading, to focus on the important things in life. Mainly him. What it meant to be a woman, to be a wife. His wife.
Paul poured them both a glass of brandy. "What do you want me to do with Maurice?"
Oh yes, Maurice. His future father-in-law. Gaston had almost forgotten about him. It was a pity that he couldn't keep him in here forever. But no matter how much he trained Belle, she would never give up her father.
"For now, he has to stay here where we can control him," Gaston decided. "We can't have him roaming around the village telling everything about a beast in a castle." He looked at the brandy in the glass and finished it at a single gulp. It felt good. The taste of victory. "But treat him well. We might need him later."
"Maurice is harmless." Paul refilled Gaston's glass.
"He ruined Belle," Gaston disagreed. That was not very harmless. "She needs to be re-educated."
"And how are you going to do that?"
Gaston took his money bag from his belt and handed it over to his friend. "You are going to do it for me," he said with a wicked grin.
Paul took one of the coins out of the bag. The bag was just as big as the one Gaston had previously offered him to lock up Maurice. He had already taken that. "You want me to treat her?" he said with a sadistic sparkle in his eyes.
"No, I need something a little more subtle for Belle."
"Since when do you do subtlety?" Paul laughed.
"If I chase Belle, she'll run away like a deer," Gaston continued, ignoring his friend. He drank the brandy and held out his glass again. "But if I stand still, she will come to me and eat out of my hand."
"What a poetic metaphor," Paul observed sarcastically.
It would be perfect. If Gaston kept insisting that Belle marry him, she would stubbornly dig her heels in like a mule. She didn't like to be ordered. But if someone else suggested to Belle that she had made a big mistake by refusing him, she would think that it was all her own idea to change her mind - that she had come to her senses herself. With Belle, he needed to be more cunning than with other girls. In here she will learn not to bite the hand that feeds her, he thought.
"It shouldn't take long, maybe two or three days," Gaston predicted. "Just now she was almost ready."
"And…" Paul started. "What about that beast?"
"What beast?" Gaston didn't understand what Paul was talking about. Then it hit him, and he rolled his eyes. That was not something he wanted to think about. Not when he had Belle almost where he wanted her. "Oh that," he said with a shrug. "A lunatic's delusion. Nothing more."
"You're calling your future wife a lunatic?" Paul said, surprised, as he sat down.
"No!" Gaston said, offended. He put his glass on the table and leaned in. "Maurice is the lunatic! Belle is the loving daughter, believing everything her father says. Not seeing how severe his case really is. Not seeing that she's not helping him by supporting his delusions."
"Like a beast in a castle?"
"Exactly. I mean, what castle? Where?" Gaston spread his arms widely. There were no castles in the area. Maurice was insane. A beast in a castle!
"Well, there is one castle in the vicinity," Paul said, pointing out of the window. "Old and abandoned, but still a castle."
Gaston stood up and looked at the shadows of the castle on top of the hill. If Maurice was talking about that castle, he was even more crazy than Gaston had thought. That castle had been abandoned for years! For as long as Gaston could remember, that castle had been empty. No one had ever seen a living soul on the other side of the castle gates. Nobody ever went in… And nobody ever came out.
"You'd have to be crazy to go even near those ruins! Every 5-year old in the village knows that!" Gaston turned back to his friend and counted the reasons why on his fingers. "There's that large pack of wolves that always hangs around there. Not to mention that the gates are impossible to get through. I tried it myself when I was 12."
"She has read too many fairytales. She believes everything!" Paul chuckled. "A beast in a castle! Next she will start talking about enchanted furniture."
"We have to get her back to reality," Gaston emphasized. "And the only reality Belle has to know is that her place in life is by my side as my wife."
Halfway through the night Belle was unexpectedly awoken by a loud scream. She sat up straight and tried to detect where the sound was coming from. It was not coming from outside; it came from inside the asylum.
She wrapped the blanket around herself and walked to the door. The screaming continued. It was coming from the other side of the door, and it was a woman. She was screaming her lungs out. The sound scared Belle to death. She covered her ears, but the screaming went right through to her soul. It sounded like someone was being tortured. It was terrifying.
But what if it was something worse? What if the entire asylum was on fire? And she was locked in! Maybe they had forgotten about her!
She started banging on her door, hoping someone was still out there to hear her. "Let me out!" she screamed. "Help! Can anyone hear me?"
The screaming outside went on and on. Nobody seemed to realize that there was someone else in here. What if they had all run out already? What if they had left her here on purpose?
Then all of a sudden she heard another sound. It sounded like… laughter? It sounded more like a giggle.
The observation window opened and a girl about her age looked at her with broad smile and glistening eyes. She had blonde uncombed hair. "You are new here!" the girl exclaimed excitedly. "Who are you?"
"I'm Belle…" Belle answered, surprised. She was confused. The girl looked happy. Cheerful. It was clear that the asylum wasn't on fire. But what was this girl doing wandering around? And if this girl could… then why couldn't she?
"Hi Belle, I am Stella," the girl started to ramble. "Actually it's Estelle, but everyone calls me Stella. I don't even know how I got that nickname, I think my mother started to call me like that. Or maybe my brother. Could be my uncle."
She was talking so quickly that it was impossible for Belle to ask a question about what in the world was going on out there. Then the girl stopped talking and looked at Belle. "So… how are you doing, Belle?"
How am I doing? Belle thought in shock. How do you think I'm doing? "What do you mean? Don't you hear those screams?"
"Oh that's nothing," Stella giggled softly. She looked around to see if anyone could hear her. She whispered: "That's Crazy Anne. She always screams when they want to take her to her room."
When Stella moved her head, Belle could see several people in the hallway. Two men were dragging a girl by her upper arms. The girl was kicking and screaming. The sight was awful. Whatever the girl did, the two men didn't seem to care. A nun was walking behind them, also not looking very caring. Stella didn't even seem to hear it. Apparently this was normal around here. Or Stella was even crazier than she looked.
Belle had to get out of here! She might be next! Maybe Stella could help her. Belle wasn't sure how to talk to a girl who was an inmate of the asylum. "Stella, can you open the door for me? I want to get out," she said as casually as possible.
Stella peeked over Belle's shoulder into the cell and got even more excited than she already was. "Wow! You have a fireplace! I don't have a fireplace," she said with a pout.
"Stella? The door?"
"It's really cold tonight," Stella went on. She looked admiringly at the fireplace. "Fire is warm."
"Stella, please listen to me," Belle pleaded. She sighed and tried to stay patient. This girl was not like a normal person, she had to talk to her differently. Maybe she had to make things simpler. "Can you open the door?"
To Belle's relief, Stella came back to earth. "Of course not, silly! I don't have the key!" She laughed insanely, she started to hum: "The key! The key! Give Stella the key!"
"Who does have the key?"
Stella looked back to the hallway and then back to Belle. She almost pushed her face through the observation window. She looked at Belle confidentially. "Sometimes Anne screams for hours and when it goes on for a really long time, they give her this special drink and then it gets quiet!"
Belle gasped. Locking people up, torturing them. And now they also used something to calm them down! "What kind of drink?" she asked breathlessly. Whatever they would ever offer her, she decided immediately not to eat nor drink it.
Before Stella could say anything else, a woman's voice came from the hallway: "Stella! What are you doing over there?"
"Whoops! I'm caught!" Stella giggled. "The party is over, Belle!"
A nun came closer to Belle's cell. She took Stella by her shoulders and turned her around. "Let's get you back to bed. Wandering through the hallways in the middle of the night!" The nun talked to Stella like she was talking to a 10-year-old, which was obviously the only way to talk to Stella.
"Is everything all right with Anne?" Belle said. She wanted to keep the conversation going, to keep in touch with someone. Someone in here must be willing to help her.
"Anne is just running amuck, like usual," the nun explained with a simple shrug. "Mademoiselle, I suggest you go back to sleep. Nothing to see here." With that, the nun closed the window and walked away with Stella.
The party is over, Belle! The party is over!
It was true. The party was over. Two tears rolled over Belle's cheek. Her life as she had known it had been turned upside down. Again. Only this time things were different.
It was different from when she was locked in that cell where the Beast had kept her father. From there she was given a truly luxurious room. Her room in the castle had been bigger than the living room back home. She was treated well. They were kind to her.
From that room, her friendship with the servants in the castle had started. For the first time in her life, she felt how it was when people valued your presence, asked for your opinion. Not turning their heads when she walked by, not whispering behind her back. The castle was a completely different world compared to the village.
From there her friendship with the Beast had started. It had been a rough start, but as the days passed, they started to enjoy each other's company. To understand each other.
She smiled through her tears when she thought back to the afternoon they had spent throwing snowballs. There she saw that there was more to him than his terrifying exterior. After the snowball fight, they went into the library to warm up. In front of the fireplace she had read aloud to the Beast one of her favorite stories: the legend of King Arthur.
"Knowing now, that this was the legendary sword called 'Excalibur,' Arthur tried to pull it from the stone. He tried once to no avail. He tried a second time… but still he could not pull it out," she read out loud. "Then… for the third time, Arthur drew forth the sword-"
"So that must mean that he's the king!" the Beast interrupted her in excitement. He pointed at the picture in the book, with Arthur holding Excalibur high above his head.
Belle held the book close to her chest, not letting him read along. "Wait and see!"
The Beast jumped up and walked through the library. He let out a sigh of happiness. "I never knew books could do that!"
"Do what?" she said, pre-occupied. She was already reading the next paragraph of the story.
It took him a moment before he could continue, as though he was hesitant to share this with her. "Take me away from this place, make me forget for a little while…" He let his last words trail away.
She looked up and saw how he looked away from her, embarrassed. "Forget what?"
"Who I-" he started. She saw him looking at his reflection in a nearby window. He turned back to her and spread his arms helplessly. "What I am."
He turned away from her again and walked to the window, where he stared into the darkness. Was he sorry that he had shared such personal feelings with her? Why would he? The thing was, Belle knew exactly what he meant. This was just what books did for her. They took her away from the village, into new worlds, exciting worlds, where it didn't mattered how she acted.
"We have something in common, you know," she said to his back.
He didn't at look at her. "What is that?" he said, as if such an idea would be impossible.
"In the town where I come from, the people think I'm odd."
He turned around in surprise. He blinked a few times before he spoke to her. He sat next to her again and looked at her as if she had told him that people would fly to the moon one day. "You?"
She nodded. She bit her lower lip before she continued. She had never spoken to someone besides her father about her feelings. "So, I know how it feels to be… different." Without realizing it, she placed her hand on the Beast's paw. "And I know how lonely that can be."
With her free hand she turned the page and continued reading aloud.
"For the third time, Arthur drew forth the sword, and there arose from the people a great shout." She looked up from the page into the Beast's eyes. She smiled at him. "Arthur is king."
"Told you so," the Beast said with a smug smile.
They laughed together, then both looked away shyly. Belle suddenly realized where her hand was. She slowly pulled her hand away and looked up at the Beast. She smiled at him, and became aware of how comfortable she felt around him. That she wasn't scared of his appearance anymore. That she could look beyond the claws, the teeth and the fur. That there was more to him than she could ever imagine.
She closed the book and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Maybe this was the time to ask him about something she had been thinking for a while now. "May I ask you a personal question?"
"Depends on the question," he said, avoiding her look.
"What is your name?"
"My name?"
She saw she had thrown him off guard/ She didn't know what he had expected, but this question was definitely not it. She nodded to encourage him, but all he mumbled was something she couldn't hear. It was short. That was the only thing she could tell.
"I'm sorry?"
"It's Adam," he said more loudly.
Adam… now that was something she hadn't expected. But it fit him. "Adam…" she said, letting the name get familiar to her. She looked up and saw Adam watching her with a silly grin on his face. "What?"
"No one has used my name for such a long time, I forgot how it was to hear it," he said, smiling at her. He leaned into her and grinned: "Say it again."
"Adam," she repeated with a laugh. Suddenly she had an idea." Adam, I would like to ask you for something."
He gazed into her eyes. "What's that?"
"A second chance," she said, determined. "Would you have dinner with me tonight?"
"Dinner? Me? With you?" he had stuttered. "Well, that would be, I mean, oh yes!"
Dinner had been wonderful. Everyone in the castle had worked so hard to give them the perfect evening. And perfect it had been. She had enjoyed every minute of it. It had been the first time in her life that she felt truly alive. Alive and loved. There was a connection between the two of them. Between her and Adam.
Would he know she was here? Maybe he could feel that she was in trouble. That she needed him. She sighed. She knew the answer to that question. The Beast never left the castle grounds. She had never even told him where he lived. How would he know about the Maison des Lunes?
She hoped he was well. Was he thinking of her? She looked up to the window. It was a clear night, and she could see the moon. If he stood on the balcony, he would see the same moon.
A cold wind came from the window. She shivered and rubbed her arms. This dress and the blanket wouldn't keep her warm. She went over to the bed and curled up under the blanket.
As she fell asleep, she thought back to the evening she and Adam had waltzed. She had felt safe in his arms. What she wouldn't give to be back in his arms again! To lean with her head against his chest…
"Oh, Adam," she whispered, "I love you."
