Chapter 9

Belle's POV

Belle can't stop replying that moment.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Even in the comforting silence of Miss Stella's room, lying on the thin sleeping mat, sleep refuses to come.

But more than the fear that came with, it was the chilling realization that the Prince's eyes were pinned solely on her during the whole ordeal.

She couldn't tell if he was angry at her....or at the staff.

But one thing was clear, she needed to stay clear from the Prince of Moonveil.

There was just something really off about what happened earlier, and somehow, deep down, she knows it has to do with her even if she can't tell how.

But now, she can't shake the feeling off.

The other maids were also too shaken to confront her after, and she was allowed to leave after David finally calmed Prince Darian, and before long, all of them were dismissed for the day.

The mate banquet no longer held even. The guards had strategically led the guests back to their chambers, after informing them that the prince had an urgent matter to attend to.

Afterward, Prince Darien had been led away, down to his own chamber where he could rest, surprisingly compliant as Queen Skyler led him away.

But those eyes, the raging red shade... and the harsh scent of coffee, Musk, and something animalistic that had an alluring edge to it; it is something that she couldn't scrub off no matter how many times she's bathed.

Even now, she could still smell it, could still hear the coughing and gasping of the guards and chamberlain as they clawed at their throats, could still see those unmoving red eyes pinned on her.

She feels like it's all her fault.

Her eyes snap open as she jerks upright from the hard mat with a gasp, chest heaving.

She can't sleep.

Asides from the fact Belle Layton has lived in luxury all her life; satin sheets, soft mattresses, queen sized bed... the Prince's eyes also haunted her everytime she tries to close her eyes.

She looks around the dark room, reaching blindly for a small torch she found on the small dressing table, flickering it on.

Miss Stella isn't back yet, and she is starting to get worried. It's a strange place filled with hostile humans and werewolves, and the only person who was kind to her had vanished.

Belle silently prays the Miss is okay as she gets up.

She doesn't bother with tying her hair up, her scalp already protesting from having it in a tight bun all day.

She uses the torch to go through a small leather bag, where she finds a light pink dress in her exact size.

She pauses,

It would seem she and Isabella have similar tastes.

She sighs and slides it on, slipping back into the only pair of black sandals...the same one she'd been wearing all day, and sneaks out.

The hallway as usual is moldy, but dark. Most of the maids have retired in their own rooms for the night, even though a few of them still linger quietly near the kitchen entrance.

Working with them all day, she has quickly learnt more routes. One being the small back door that led out the backyard, used mostly when they needed to deliver food during outdoor events.

She looks around, hoping no one can see her, before she quietly slips out, closing the door behind her with a soft thud.

The view is...breathtaking. With everything that had happened today, she didn't really have time to explore.

But one thing she'd quicky realized, is that this family is insanely wealthy, and they take pride in showing off.

This garden is no exception.

And as she steps in further into the garden, her breath catches in her throat.

There are several Lanterns hung carefully from iron stands, making the space have a warm, golden glow,casting a soft light over the blooming flowers. It made the garden look really colourful.

It smells nice and calm, the breeze making her hair sway lightly.

For the first time since she came here, she finally feels like she can breathe. She stretches her hand, letting the breeze wrap around her body, eyes closed tightly.

After, Belle begins to take a slow walk through the open path, glancing around, trying to learn this strange place she's trapped in..

Then she hears the loud the ruffle of leaves.

She freezes, eyes darting around the almost dark space. That didn't sound like just the wind.

She hears the sounds again, this time clearer...it's people whispering, a muffled sound, then more whispering.

She swallows and continues forward curiously despite herself, tiptoeing, not minding the sand that's trapped between her toes as she does.

She's careful not to make a sound until she catches the scene fully.

Oh.

Oh.

It's Rose.

Rose and a man.

A man wearing a guards uniform specifically.

Belle fights the urge to laugh out loud as she sees them make out desperately. Rose fingers are fisted in the man's shirt, panting loudly, pulling him closer as if they weren't already impossibly joint.

The irony is funny.

She imagines if it was still back at home, it would've caused a small scandal for sure.

And though she doesn't like Rose for sure, she decides she isn't going to report them. Not like they would believe here anyways.

Plus, working here one day, she already feels like she's aged a hundred. So she imagines how wound up the other maids would feel.

She would let the young lady have her fun.

She's too caught up in her own thoughts however, and doesn't realize until she steps on a twig.

CRACK.

The sound slices through the quiet night air, and she barely has time to dock before both heads snap up in her direction.

Her leg hooks on a branch of a flower, cutting through her skin hard, She has to bite down on her hand to stop herself from making a sound as the pain shoots up her legs.

She hears them whisper with heavy breaths, footsteps, then Rose calling for him to come back that it is probably just the wind.

She holds her breath until she hears them walk away, panting softly as she slowly unhooks the hand on her lips.

"It's my own fault for peeping." She mutters under her breath, hissing as she leans down to inspect the wound.

It's a pretty deep cut.

Just as she ponders making it back to her room without anyone noticing, she smells it.

Smells him.

She freezes, dragging her leg behind her, aiming to hide behind the bushes.

But it's too late.

She feels him behind her, the heat radiating from his skin, the sound of his low breathing.

Exhaling loudly, she turns around to face him. And her breath hitches;

He looks calm now, lips between his teeth, eyes now green and calm. He looks slightly amused, his perfectly curved brow arched slightly.

She looks away, her cheek turning red. She always seems to find herself in embarrassing situations around him.

He chuckles at her, a hand out-stretched towards her as his deep voice resonates around them,

"You're a magnet for trouble, aren't you you?"