Belle finished her meal quietly, feeling warmer and fuller than she'd been for weeks. She looked down at the table, wondering if she had to clean it. Rumpelstiltskin told her she'd not have any needs, surely there was more food in the castle, but she yet had to find the kitchen. Getting onto her feet, Belle decided to leave the dining table as it was.
When she stepped over the threshold, she saw the row of torches lighting her way back to the room – her room now, she had to remind herself. She didn't really care where she stayed, after all, she could choose any chamber she wished. She didn't want to go back upstairs, so instead of following the brightly-lit hallway, she turned right.
She just considered returning to the dining room to search for a candle or a lantern, when the torches in the dark part of the corridor ignited themselves. Belle decided it was a sign that the castle was assisting her and that she could truly go anywhere she wanted. As long as it pleased the castle's master, she thought darkly. That would probably change rapidly if she tried to leave, the castle becoming less friendly and cooperative.
After she passed several doors, curiosity took over her and Belle pushed the nearest door. It was made of wood and painted beige with beautifully carved golden flowers twining around the frame. To her disappointment, it was merely a door to the cupboard, revealing the most ordinary-looking brooms and mops. Why would Rumpelstiltskin would need those was a total mystery. Apparently the castle could clean itself, or at least the man could will his magic to do the task. She wondered whether he built the castle himself – it was grand and impressive, of course, but entirely impractical to live in.
Belle tried her luck with the next door. This one also opened with very little effort from her side and the girl stepped in a large oval room. There was a gobelin draped across the entire length of the chamber. Coming closer to the wall she saw it was, in fact, a map. There were castles and small houses embroidered on it and even some trees and cattle. Each of the objects was followed by a fine inscription, the print elegantly decorated with curlicues, but Belle was frustrated to see that it was in another language.
She thought she found the Dark Castle – a proud and imposing structure with several protruding towers in the nest of snowy mountains. She couldn't spot her father's county though – there were way too many details on the map, distracting her eyes. Besides, she didn't even know in which direction to look. She could ask Rumpelstiltskin of course - if she caught him in good spirits. Or if she ever wanted to talk the man again.
Belle felt ashamed but the thought of the murder had lost its terrifying grip on her. It made her feel deeply sad instead. What happened to Rumpelstiltskin to make him stone-hearted and calloused? She could not believe he was born that way and she could not hate him.
The problem was that he was different under the armor of his leather clothing and sharp words, or he could be when he chose to. A cold-blooded murderer would never look at her with such a concern in his eyes, no more than he would prepare a feast for dinner just for her.
Could it be the magic that changed him? Belle had never heard of any witch or warlock who was naturally attractive, unless they applied glamour to trick people. Perhaps, it was just a coincidence or people liked to think those who scared or harmed them were ugly. Would she change once she tried casting a spell? Belle didn't feel like she would, but perhaps her skin would turn some flamboyant color and grow scaly. Suddenly she imagined herself sitting on a large rock covered with hot-pink scales, basking in the sun like a bizarre lizard. She shook the thought away. Belle wasn't even sure if she could practice magic. She'd never displayed any talent in that area and if will was all it required, everybody would simply snap their fingers, sit back, relax and watch their problems solve themselves.
The girl was startled by a clock striking once. Oddly enough she did not remember seeing any clock on her way yet it sounded like it was just behind her in the room. Belle wondered if the castle conveyed the sounds well when it chose to or if it was its way of reminding her it was time to rest. She wouldn't be too surprised if the latter were the truth.
She returned to the room and unlaced her boots, then peeled off her clothes, sighing happily as her legs were finally freed from her breeches. Leather pants may be practical for horse riding or as protection against scratches and small cuts in the woods but wearing them over bare skin for several weeks was definitely not the most comfortable thing. Belle just left her clothes in a small pile on the floor and reached for the cloth she spotted in the drawers of the bedside table earlier. Dipping it in water, the girl wiped her body with it. She was too tired to search for a proper bathroom, but the cloth did make her feel somewhat better and cleaner.
Her slightly damp skin broke into goose flesh, even though the air in the room was decently warm. Belle opened the wardrobe more out of curiosity than actually expecting to find anything there. However she saw it was full of clothes – dresses and nightgowns, horse-riding costumes and various shirts. She bet all of those were her exact size. Belle marveled if Rumpelstiltskin and a habit of stealing girls – that would explain why there was such a variety of clothing. Maybe there were other rooms in the castle, just like that one, but with wardrobes containing dresses fit for women of different sizes and heights for the sorcerer to choose the appropriate room for a new captive.
She dismissed the silly thought quickly. She must be too tired to have such ideas pop into her head. Not bothering with the nightgown, Belle slipped under the sheets. They were fresh and felt cool against her skin. She buried her face in the pillow and inhaled the frosty smell of it. Earlier she did not pay attention to how soft the mattress was – it felt as if she was floating on a cloud. The bed was rather large as well – Belle spread her arms and legs but still did not reach its edges.
Her eyelids were heavy and she could feel her mind slipping off into a half-dream state. Her last thought was the light blue of the bed sheets, even though it was the exact shade of the sheets she had back at home, did not match the heavy red window curtains.