Beauty and the Beast(44)

No, don’t!

She paused. As frantic as she was, if her Papa knew that she still wanted to leave their cottage, he would never open the door.

So, with great effort to behave in a calm and resigned manner, Belle softly knocked on the door.

“Papa?” she called quietly, meekly.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ve slept outside your door, all night.”

“Papa, you were right. May I have some tea? My head hurts from all the shouting last night.” She hesitated. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to upset you so.”

An audible sigh of relief could be heard from the other side of the door.

“One moment, Belle—I’ll bring your tea to you.”

Belle stood, gripping the mirror in one hand, and waited by the door.

What was taking him so long? Was he on to her?

Finally, she heard her father push something heavy away from the door, and the lock clicked open.

“Be careful, sweetie, the tea is very h—”

Belle pushed past her father, knocking the tea to the ground, the delicate teacup breaking into pieces. But there was no time to turn around, no time to apologize.

She ran into his bedroom and slammed the door, locking it.

“Belle!” he yelled. “Come out here this instant, young lady!”

The only reason he wasn’t as panicked as he should have been was because she hadn’t gone for the front door. He didn’t understand that there were other means of leaving the house. But he would soon.

The golden ring gleamed from his dresser top. Without pause, Belle slipped it onto her finger and twisted it. Once. Twice.

“I love you forever, Papa,” she cried out.

Three times, and she was gone.





11: The Enchantment



The air shimmered around Belle, the very dust particles themselves seeming to burst into flame. Oh, it was too warm, hot, like being too close to the stove—like being in a stove.

But then the shimmer dissipated, and the air around her cooled. The magic settled, leaving her feeling woozy and disoriented.

She looked around for a half a moment, confused—where is my Beast?

Her luxurious bedchamber in the castle surrounded her. The ring had taken her back to the spot from which she had left, back when the Beast was still alive, when he was still hers.

Belle set the looking glass down hurriedly and ran out of her suite, stumbling down the corridor, passing the portrait of Prince Frederick.

Run, run, find the Beast!

She nearly fell down the grand stairway in her haste, and tore through the great hall, her footsteps echoing off the stone as she ran.

“Beast!” she cried. “Fairies, open the door!”

The fairies complied immediately, the door swung open, letting in a rush of cold air as the heavy castle doors lay ajar. The air was silent, too silent. Not even the whisper of the wind in the trees could be heard. Only the rushing of blood through her ears as her pulse raced.

The Beast lay, so still, on the cold stones at her feet, just outside the door. She ran to him.

“Beast?”

Her voice sounded child-like, scared, to her ears. She was scared. Terrified. More terrified than she had ever been when the Beast first loomed over her in that dungeon.

“I never meant for this to happen,” she said to him, but he didn’t open his eyes. “I wanted to be here! I needed to be here. God, what have I done?”

He wasn’t moving. Belle’s own breath in the cold dawn air was visible, but his was not. The Beast had no more breath to give.

His fearsome face looked softer in death, as if all of the anger and animalistic tendencies he had adopted over the years had been whisked away along with his life.

“You can’t leave me,” she said, tears rolling down her face. “Fairies! I wish him back to life! I will never call on you again if you just bring him back, bring him back.”

One tear landed on her lip, salty, and the taste took her back to a seaside trip she’d made as a child. Belle had nearly drowned back then. She licked her lips, tasted her tears. She was drowning now.

She clasped the Beast’s heavy hand in her own, and collapsed on top of his bulky form.

“I should have stayed with you when I had the chance, my Beast,” she said. “You are good. You are good to me. I don’t know what happened ten years ago to change you, I don’t know what your past has been like. But you are my future. Please, please come back to me.”

Belle’s tears fell onto his chest, and she clung to him, the same way she had clung to the stranger who rescued her from the sea, that day long ago when she thought she would fall under the water, and never come back up.

“I’m drowning, Beast… I need you.”

The wind whipped her thin cotton dress around her body, freezing her to the core. She huddled closer to the Beast, as if he might warm her even now.