IT did not take long for Belle's voice to turn hoarse as she curled into herself in a ball in the furthermost corner of the cage she now found herself in the castle's dungeons, entirely too terrified to be disgusted by what was happening.
She'd always loved for Papa to tell her stories as a little girl at bedtime to help her sleep, tales of daring and handsome princes, vicious monsters the noble hero would have to save the heroine from, throw in a bit of witch's magic and you had the makings of a good story.
But…she had always pledged if she ever found herself in a situation as the heroines did in the stories Papa was so fond of them, that she would be brave, strong, and smart.
Yet, she found herself turned into a hideous Beast of a monster by a woman she had trusted and called a friend, trapped in a cage in a castle, utterly confused, cold, and struck to the bone with humiliating terror.
She couldn't even think straight. She tensed when she heard the sound of a key rattling in the look and heard the door fly open, slamming harshly into the bricked wall behind it.
She stiffened and ground her teeth, sure at any moment the Prince was about to order his guards to seize her and take her away to be stabbed through the stomach with a knife or hanged.
The sound of a man's heavy footsteps thudded towards her quickly and she let out a sound that she was sure no human girl could make that sounded like a wolfish whine at the sound of metal clanging against the floor.
"Eat, girl, I did not walk down all this way to hear that you are starving yourself. I will not see you dead on my account. The servants on the way here told me you are refusing to eat the food that they give you," she heard the Prince's hostile voice reverberate through the empty room.
She slowly lifted her head with painstaking slowness and turned to stare at the man who had imprisoned her here, her lips parted in disbelief.
She watched, momentarily satisfied, as she thought she saw a kernel of fear in the Prince's wintry eyes as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The arrogant man could see the Beast she had become, but he was still not allowing himself to believe that it was all his fault.
She felt her lips curl upward into a twisted sneer and she purposefully ran her tongue along the top wall of her teeth, pausing as she felt the tips of her newly grown fangs prick her tongue. Belle tilted her head as she flinched.
Belle flicked her gaze towards the two other trays that a servant named Mrs. Potts had brought to her, a kindly old woman who seemed too gentle a woman to be serving a vain and arrogant man like this wretched disgusting Prince.
The food, a previously steaming bowl of rich pumpkin soup that had originally made her mouth water when first brought to her, alongside a hard loaf of bread and a small bit of Brie cheese, lay now cold and untouched.
She was not about to accept any kindness from a servant of the Prince, no matter how sweet the old woman had seemed, how she'd cared.
For all she knew, the Prince could have ordered the cooks in the kitchen to poison her meal.
She stared numbly at the fresh tray of food the Prince had brought her and had unceremoniously dropped it in front of her, yet she made no move to pick up the tray.
Instead, she flicked her gaze towards the Prince and struggled to read the man's blank and menacing expression for even an ounce of remorse that he was sorry, or a shred of human decency and kindness.
Belle shook her head, too stunned to be able to speak to the young Prince at the moment.
Belle could tell with just a single look by the way the Prince's jaw had clenched and his hands were curled into fists at his side and shaking slightly as though resisting the urge to strike out at something (the closest target would have been her) that she was getting a rise out of him.
Belle thought she should have been scared of the man and the power he held over her, and yet, the longer she bore her gaze into his, the more she was stricken with apathy, a cold sort of indifference that seeped like a slow-acting poison into Belle's veins as she stared right back at the man.
"Eat," the Prince once again commanded Belle, almost sounding angry with her.
When she did not respond, the Prince took a step back and pressed at his temples with a thumb and forefinger, as though the man were fighting off the beginnings of a splitting headache. For all she knew of him, she hoped he was.
"What is it that you want? Better food? A new dress? Jewelry? What is it that you want that will get you to at least speak to me, wench, and don't you dare blame this curse of yours on me? The fault for that lies solely with the heathen witch that was outside my castle's gates and her alone, girl," he growled, snapping at her with an angry bark to his voice that made Belle hiss, baring her fangs at him and surprising herself.
She felt her lips twitch into a triumphant smirk as he flinched.
Belle snapped at the Prince before she could stop herself, picking up the chalice of wine that the Prince had delivered alongside her meal and throwing it at the opposite wall, where it clattered to the floor with a loud clang and the dark red wine that looked like blood began to seep into the stones of the floor.
But Belle could not manage to pretend to care. Not when her mundane life as she knew it was changed, and to become human again, she was sure she would need nothing short of a miracle.
"Fix this!" she shouted, feeling her cheeks flush red underneath the fur that had sprouted on her face. Belle angrily gestured towards her cheek with a shaking finger as she curled in even further on herself. "This is all YOUR fault!"
He frowned, chuckling with mocking, a thing that came so naturally to Prince Adam, having been raised in his cruel father's shadow.
"Only the witch can do that, it would seem, Belle, and given your sorceress has fled my estate, it would seem that you are at a loss. Without her, we do not know how to lift this wretched curse that has spoiled your beauty," he grunted, sounding disgruntled.
"I'll find her. Let me leave this place and return home to my village, I know where she lives, anything is better but to remain sitting here, trapped in this cage like I'm some sort of dangerous animal," Belle answered, her voice steel.
The Prince glowered, narrowing his eyes, and becoming all suspicion.
"You truly think I would let you do that, Belle, given what you look like? You would be lynched and set upon the moment you set foot back in your village. You'd be burned," he answered in too plain a voice that sent a chill of fear down her spine.
"Then you go and fetch her, and when you do, I hope she turns you into a pig, so the whole world can see what their realm's Prince really is."
Belle lifted her gaze to his just in time to watch the blood drain from the man's face and his arrogant little smile faltered. He suddenly looked as though he would hit her for such a quip, and yet somehow, the Prince refrained from it. The Prince looked livid as a muscle in the man's sharp, angular jaw jumped. He looked like he was of a mind to strangle her as he turned away, seemingly to compose his emotions and will his temper to cool a bit before talking.
"You're lucky your servants here in this castle care for you, Your Highness, they might be the only one that does so. You are despicable to come to me after stealing me away from my village, my home, and daring to think that you could, what, take what you wanted? If you ask me, Agathe should have transformed you into this—this awful Beast!"
She spat her last word as though it were poison that had settled on her tongue and like a flash of lightning, with a speed that she did not know the man possessed, the Prince was on her.
The man seized Belle by the shoulders and pulled the young woman roughly to her feet, his wintry blue eyes burning with a passion to kill as his expression hardened.
"Do not raise your shrill voice to me again, wench!" the Prince roared, and in a moment of anger, as the man let his temper get the better of him, he slammed a fist into the wall by her horned head.
Belle flinched but Prince Adam continued to hold his hand there, ignoring the pain of his broken knuckles as they shredded against the rough masonry of the wall behind her.
The murderous look the Prince gave her chilled her bones to ice in her veins and sent a tremor down her spine.
"You—you wouldn't dare to hurt me, Agathe would punish you worse than this if something happened to me. The witch would know it was you," Belle whispered angrily, with more conviction than she was feeling at the moment.
But inside, her heart pounded and her mouth, which was already dry, went dryer still. Her stomach churned and she tasted bile, but somehow, she managed to raise her chin and gazed up at the handsome and arrogant Prince defiantly.
It was a moment before the Prince spoke, and when he did, she swore his shoulders slumped and his tone was softer, quieter. As if the man were admitting defeat.
"No, Belle. I won't hurt you. My head, as I told my servants Cogsworth and Lumiere, scarred though it is, is better left on my shoulders," he growled angrily. "If you insist on leaving, I could take you with me, we could get the answers from your witch. You cannot return alone, as I told you earlier, if you tried, you foolish girl, you would be set upon and attacked."
He did not dare voice this next thought aloud, though his mind was already teeming with anticipation and possibilities of bringing along a scouting party of men to lay in wait to ambush the witch and take her the moment she revealed how to lift the girl's wretched curse. And then, for her crime, the witch would hang.
Belle looked at the Prince, feeling some hope swell in her chest, and yet, it felt too good to be true.
Though she wanted nothing more than to find Agathe and learn from her and Papa's dear friend if there was a way to undo the spell, she knew that they would be spotted, and by Gaston and his goons, no less, she was sure.
"There's a man, monsieur, his name is Gaston, he's ah, quite a formidable hunter, he would surely see me—"
"The man would not stop me, Belle, I would love to see him try to go against the crowned Prince of the country, girl," he growled, and Belle let out a cry of surprise as she felt a cold steel knife suddenly press to her throat. "When I have this. Or this?" he murmured, motioning to the sword resting at his right hip. Slowly, the Prince lowered his knife from her throat. "Are you scared, pretty Beast? I could keep you safe. They would be afraid of you, but if we go under the cover of nightfall, there is less chance of you being spotted by anyone…unsavory or with ill intentions."
Ill intentions?! Belle almost choked on her own tongue as she hesitated, looking at him in wonder, searching the man's blue eyes for any hint of a lie, any sign she could not trust him. She could hardly believe the Prince was true, and yet his expression was steadfast and determined and he spoke his words with conviction.
She made the decision then and there to trust the man temporarily, even if she regretted it later.
Slowly, Belle nodded her head, assenting.
"Your Highness," she muttered, his title sounding funny on her tongue. "Take me home."
The Prince smiled, his smile was almost predatory. "Very well," he breathed. "We must wait until after dark to leave. One of my servants will bring you a suitable garment to disguise yourself in tonight after supper. We leave the moment the sun goes down and if you are late to arrive in the Courtyard, then I'd better leave you locked away in this cage for the rest of your life. Speak not a word of this to any servant here in the castle, girl."
Belle nodded once, a short jerky motion of her head. She was too shy and too stunned to be able to speak.
In turn, Prince Adam dipped his head in begrudging acknowledgment of the pretty Changeling Beast and then stepped back with what seemed to be a great effort on his part, as though the man wanted more time in his mind to linger. But he turned on a twist of his heels and was gone in the span of a blink of an eye. He left the dungeons and left Belle alone once more in the darkness of her cage with just her conflicting thoughts for company.
She hoped that when her mind was clearer, she'd be able to think a little bit better. Perhaps figure out why he had taken her. Belle tiredly shut her eyes. She had no intention of falling asleep as she did not want to, as she did not like the vulnerability that sleeping would likely expose her to while she was at the mercy of the Prince.
But the moment her eyelids fluttered close, she felt exhaustion and fatigue nearly overwhelming her.
Perhaps…a little nap wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Belle shivered and tried not to let her teeth chatter as she curled into a ball on the floor and drifted into an uneasy sleep. She clutched herself as it was fairly cold in this cell and the servants had not thought to bring her a blanket or a cloak. Or perhaps the Prince had cruelly ordered that nothing be given to her.
Either way, she hoped that a fire would be lit somewhere soon.
Slowly, and without any conscious thought, Belle let herself fall asleep, praying that come the night, she would have an answer, that Agathe would put an end to this horrible, horrible nightmare.