“Is there anything else you need to see?” The hag returns to face me, her expression slightly sympathetic. “Some of your best customers are anxiously anticipating your return to the village.”
I may never return… “I’m fine.”
“I think you’d like to see what they’re saying about you.”
“Then you’re sadly mistaken.” I prepare to put her away, cursing myself for ever giving in and using her.
“What about this, then?” She speaks before I can stuff her into the satchel. “Would you like to see this instead?”
Against my better judgment, I stare a the glass until a new image appears, and I’m suddenly transfixed by the sight of Sola bringing a cup of tea to Belle.
Dressed in an all-white silk gown, she’s sitting in bed with a teacup while Sola talks to her between sips.
“Do you need anything else?” Sola asks her.
“Another book, perhaps.”
“You’re already finished with the one I gave you yesterday?”
She nods. “I read it as slowly as I could to savor it.”
“Well, sir Gabriel has plenty of books that he keeps,” she says. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to let you read one if you ask, especially since his marks are still on you.”
Her cheeks turn red, and she takes a long sip from her cup.
“Sleep tight, Belle.” Sola walks to the door. “I’ll tell him that you’re feeling a lot better tomorrow afternoon.”
She leaves the cabin, and Belle immediately slips from under the covers. She walks over to the small corner desk and pulls a sheet of paper and an inkwell from a drawer.
Scribbling furiously, she pens a short letter before reading the words aloud to herself.
* * *
Dear Sola,
* * *
Thank you for your hospitality during this journey.
I’ve never had many friends, and I’m honored to know what ‘friendship’ feels like.
* * *
Please tell Gabriel that I am grateful for his care as well. Especially these past few days…
* * *
I know this may not make much sense to you (or anyone else, for that matter), but I lost something that means the world to me. It was a gift from someone I love very much, someone I still think about every day, and I’m willing to die to get it back into hands.
* * *
Please don’t take this personally, and please don’t come looking for me when you wake.
* * *
I’m gone.
* * *
Belle
What the fuck?
A Watchful Eye
Belle
Sola opens the cabin door at the first hint of dawn, tiptoeing to my bedside to ensure that I’m still sleeping. Then, just as she’s done for the past couple of days, she sets a copper kettle atop the small stove and whispers, “Be back with your morning tea.”
Waiting for her footsteps to fall away outside, I silently remind myself that I can’t afford to stay here another night. I have to stick to my plan.
Get up, get dressed, grab whatever you can, and put the note on your pillow.
The moment my feet hit the floor, a lamp illuminates the room, and I freeze like a deer in a hunter’s light.
Gabriel is shirtless in the corner, glaring at me, his lips pressed in a firm line.
“Allow me to save you the energy, Belle,” he says, his voice deep. “Get back in the bed.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head. “I have something I need to retrieve.”
He taps his fingers on his knee, and then he slowly stands. “What’s so important that you’re willing to risk disobeying me again?”
I don’t tell him. I just stare.
“I would ask you this question again,” he says, “but I already know how that conversation will end.”
“With you assaulting my lips and thinking that I liked it?”
“I know you liked it.” He moves closer to me. “Tell me what you’re looking for.”
I bite my tongue before the truth can slip from my lips. He wouldn’t understand.
“I’m worried about my sister,” I say instead. “The dancing man had her hair ribbon, and I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Your sister is fine. Trust me,” he says. “Is that all?”
“I’m worried about my father, too…”
“Why?”
“Because he’s my father.” I feign offense. “I don’t think I should have to explain more than that.”
He looks into my eyes as if they’ll reveal more than I’m willing to say, but there’s nothing there.
“You shouldn’t worry about him.” His voice is firm. “You shouldn’t be concerned with your sister either.”
“That’s quite ironic coming from the person who is hell-bent on finding them.”
“Because they still owe me.” He warns. “Whether they like it or not. Nonetheless, get back in the bed and wait until I say it’s time to leave.”
I don’t move a muscle, don’t even bat an eye.
He joins me in the silent stalemate, and the more seconds that pass, the more memories of him kissing me resurface.
I’m torn between giving in for another taste or clawing the gorgeous blue eyeballs from his beautiful skull.