by RH Disney
Lumiere, eager to be part of the fabrication, joined in. “He’s a stable hand—”
“—valet,” Cogsworth said at the same time.
“It’s a small household,” Belle explained. “Some of the servants do double duty.”
“I see,” Granny T said.
“Our friend mentioned your village recently, so we thought he might have come here,” Belle continued.
“The people you work for didn’t mind you all leaving at the same time on such a long journey?” Nicole asked.
Belle was about to answer, when Cogsworth spoke. “There’s only the master, and he ordered us to go,” he said. “He’s a generous and thoughtful man who cares for all of us. We’ve been through so much together over the years, you see.”
“Mais oui!” cried Lumiere, ignoring Belle’s pleading look to stop talking. He lowered his voice to a dramatic baritone, as if emoting from a stage. “The master and our friend the stable hand/valet are very, very close.” Belle poked him again, but he was too caught up in his performance to notice. “They are so close, in fact, they are practically brothers.”
“They are so close, they are practically the same person!” Cogsworth declared. He and Lumiere erupted into giggles.
“They’re giddy from all the excitement,” Belle said, and was relieved when Granny T and Elise seemed to accept the explanation.
Granny T removed Cogsworth’s foot from the cold water and wrapped the ankle tightly with a fresh strip of burlap. Belle and Lumiere then helped Granny T settle Cogsworth on one of the small mattresses in the room behind the tapestry.
“This is Granny T’s and my room,” Elise explained as Granny T propped Cogsworth’s injured leg up on a small stack of folded blankets.
“It’s our guest’s room, for the present,” Granny T told Elise. “Monsieur Cogsworth needs rest and quiet for the next few hours, and this is the best place in the house for it.” She adjusted the pillows behind Cogsworth’s head.
“You are much too kind, madame,” Cogsworth said.
While Cogsworth was resting, Nicole continued making dinner. It turned out she did remember Lumiere’s family performing in the village. When he launched into one of the many songs from their act, Nicole joined in.
“We used to sing that around the fire in the square after you left,” Nicole said wistfully. “Those were happier times in Brumeuxville.” Lumiere offered to help with dinner, and Nicole eagerly accepted, on the condition that Lumiere sing another song or two for her. Lumiere didn’t need to be asked twice.
Because the meal would take some time to prepare, Belle asked Elise to lead her back to the hayfield. Now that the fog had cleared, it seemed like a good time to assess the wreck, before it was too dark out. Belle wanted to see if there was enough of the balloon left for them to repair it easily. She wasn’t hopeful, but repairing it was the only way they could return home quickly if the Prince had lost the Magic Atlas.
Granny T offered to come along, and she invited Paul as well. As they walked through the village, Belle gave Paul her made-up explanation for their visit. Elise ran several yards ahead, impatient to explore the crash site.
“I think you’ve come to the wrong place,” Paul told Belle. “There haven’t been any strangers here for some time. Not until you three. The roads to the village are a mess. We used to be able to travel out of the kingdom easily—to trade at markets and bring in new goods—but storms and neglect have cut us off. We keep hoping the king will do something to fix the roads, but that hope’s fading fast.”
Belle remembered the grimness of the castle they’d flown past. It seemed as if the bleakness of the village was reflected by the residents of the castle. Her heart ached at the thought of the Prince being trapped in such a place. And she was still confused as to how he could be blamed for the kingdom’s troubles. How could one person be responsible for such oppressive gloom?
“Why won’t the king help?” Belle asked.
“Our queen died a few years ago,” Paul said. “After she did, the king locked himself up in his castle. He forgot us.”
Belle wanted to ask about the queen she’d seen in the mirror, but then she’d have to explain how she knew about her. Elise might believe a Magic Mirror could exist, but Belle didn’t think Paul would. Granny T she wasn’t sure about yet.
“Now and then someone ventures out of the kingdom, through the woods to the river, or over the hills to the sea,” Paul said as they caught up with Elise at the edge of the field. The sun was setting between the hills, partially hidden by a gauzy cloud that cast the peaks in a rosy blush. The pink twilight caused the debris strewn around the hay to twinkle like chips of silver. “But it’s rare. Rarer still for somebody to come to us.”
“Their friend could have flown a machine here!” Elise suggested. “Like they did!”
Paul gazed around at the wreckage in wonder. “A hot-air balloon that eats clouds!” He shook his head and laughed. “I sure would’ve liked to see it in flight.” He picked up a bent pipe and examined it. “It sounds like something out of one of those wild stories my mother tells Elise.”
“You used to like those stories when you were young, Paul,” Granny T said. “You had quite the imagination then. Your daughter gets it from you.”
“I think it skips a generation,” Paul said with a wry smile. “I’m not quite as fanciful as the two of you.”
Belle surveyed the hunks of metal and shards of wood. It didn’t take her long to realize there was no way they’d be returning to Villeneuve the way they’d come.
“I hope you know you and your friends are welcome to stay the night with us,” Paul said, guessing at her thoughts.
“Or as long as it takes for your friend’s ankle to heal,” added Granny T.
Paul nodded. “We can find a way to get you to the river once you’re ready to leave. I’m sure you’ll be able to catch one of the barges going north.”
“Thank you,” Belle said. “And I promise we’ll clean up this mess before we leave.”
“Look, Granny! A real sword!” Elise swung a piece of the steam-valve rod in the air—swoosh, swoosh!
“Careful, Elise!” Paul warned. He turned to Belle. “Your machine may be a loss to you,” he said, “but I’m sure I could find other uses for these parts.”
“Nicole would love to have this material to make clothes,” Granny T said as she examined a long shred from the silk balloon. “Maybe even curtains!”
“Please, take anything you want,” Belle said. She’d feel better if what was left of the balloon didn’t go to waste, and she knew her father would feel the same. Elise’s family had been so generous already. This seemed like the least Belle and her friends could do to pay them back.
While Elise helped Granny T fold the remnants of the silk balloon and Paul gathered the crushed pipes and scraps of cedar, Belle made her way quietly to the edge of the field, where she’d noticed a charred patch in the hay. When she got close enough, she spotted a familiar orange glow in the dirt. She smiled.
She’d found the Magic Stone.
She considered picking it up, but she couldn’t hold it without burning herself, and slipping it into her pocket was likely to set her dress on fire. She could carry it out in one of the metal scraps, but then she’d have to explain to Elise’s family what it was.
She decided the best thing to do was to leave it for now. She grabbed a curved fragment of tin lying nearby and dug a hole deep in the ground a few feet away. Using the tin, she rolled the glowing orb toward the hole until it fell in. She covered it with dirt and hay and stood back. There was no glow. If she hadn’t just buried it, she wouldn’t have been able to distinguish its hiding place from the rest of the uncharred ground around it.
The Magic Stone was safe for now.
Because there wasn’t enough room at their small dining table for e
veryone, Elise’s family and their guests gathered on stools around the hearth to eat dinner. Cogsworth had eaten earlier and was once again resting in the blanketed-off room.
Lumiere insisted on serving the meal, which he did with a flourish. After spinning around on one foot, he swooped down and delivered each bowl of soup without spilling a drop. He then juggled five spoons in the air, catching them and handing them out one at a time to the diners, and did the same with the rolls.
“Voilà!” he exclaimed when he had finished. The others applauded.
“Merci!” Lumiere said with a bow. “Bon appétit, everyone!”
“Bon appétit!” they all replied.
Belle saw Elise slip a piece of bread to the bird, which sat in its basket at her feet. Elise caught Belle watching and pressed a finger to her lips.
“I saw your loom,” Belle said, drawing the adults’ attention to the opposite corner of the room. Elise gave her a grateful smile.
“It’s Nicole’s,” Paul said proudly. “She made all the blankets you see hanging in here.”
“The designs are beautiful,” Belle said.
“Très belle,” agreed Lumiere.
Nicole beamed. “Thank you. I used to sell them at markets in towns along the coast. Now that travel is so difficult, I make them for us, and we occasionally use them to barter with.”
“We have a farm plot,” Paul said. “But the soil became infested with worms, so now we trade blankets for produce. I also help out on my neighbors’ farms, and with shearing the other villagers’ sheep in return for more wool, and—”
CHEEP!
The songbird had craned its head toward Elise’s hand, hungry for more bread.
“Elise, that bread is for you to eat, not the bird,” Nicole scolded. “I told you to leave your little friend in your room while we have dinner.”
“But Monsieur Cogsworth was snoring! Petra doesn’t want to have to listen to that while she’s trying to get better.”
Belle looked at Elise in surprise. “Petra? That’s an unusual name.”
“Not so unusual!” Elise said. “It’s the name of the enchanted princess in—”
“The Kingdom in the Clouds,” Belle said.
Elise stared at Belle in shock. “How did you know?”
“It’s my favorite book,” Belle told her.
“It’s my favorite book!” Elise declared. She jumped up, ignoring her parents’ protests, and dashed behind the blanket wall. She returned clutching a dog-eared book with a tattered cover. Its spine had been broken in so many places, it barely held together. A ragged ribbon was tied around the outside to keep the yellowed pages from falling out.
“I own it,” Elise said proudly. “Granny T gave it to me. It’s the only book in the village!”
“Is that true?” Belle asked the others. She couldn’t imagine growing up in a village with only one book.
“Not much use for books here,” Paul said. “Except as insulation.” He nodded toward the walls, and Belle now noticed book spines poking from the clay.
“I brought those back with me from Paris,” Granny T said sadly. “But the damp weather here caused them all to rot before I could figure out a safe way to store them.”
“Because we live in a valley, the fog gets trapped,” Nicole explained.
“It’s even worse in spring and summer,” Paul said. “The warmer temperatures pull in clouds from the sea on the other side of the mountains.”
“Granny T’s books didn’t all rot!” Elise said, hugging The Kingdom in the Clouds. “She kept this one in a special box.”
“I’m so glad she could save it for you,” Belle said to Elise. Then she turned to Granny T. “But I’m so sorry about your other books.” Belle pictured the thousands of books in the royal library shriveling up and disintegrating before her eyes, then shook off the horrible image.
Nicole noticed Lumiere washing the dishes. “Monsieur! We cannot have a guest clean up!” She rushed over to him.
“Too late, madame,” Lumiere replied, drying the last dish. “And it was my pleasure.”
Paul went outside to collect more wood while Nicole helped Lumiere and Belle stack several blankets around the softly roaring fire for Granny T, Elise, and Belle to sleep on.
Lumiere agreed to sleep on the floor next to Cogsworth. “I shall endure his snoring,” Lumiere said bravely as he slipped behind the tapestry wall. He was soon fast asleep and snoring himself.
“Tell us a story!” Elise begged Granny T.
Nicole shook her head. “It’s getting late, Elise,” she said.
“I’m not tired!” Elise protested.
“We know you’re not,” Granny T told Elise. “But Belle probably is.”
“I’d love to hear a story,” Belle said. “A true one. About Brumeux.”
“Oh, yes! Yes!” Elise cried, thrilled at the suggestion. “I can tell one! Let me tell it.” She climbed onto a stool and held up her hands. “Once upon a time,” she began, her voice low and serious, “there was an enchanted princess, like Petra.” Elise gestured to the songbird, now sleeping peacefully in its warm basket at the end of Elise’s blanket bed. “Her name was Marianne, and she lived in an enchanted castle.”
“You know Princess Marianne isn’t really enchanted,” Nicole said to Elise.
“Yes she is!” Elise insisted. “You believe me, don’t you, Belle?”
Belle pictured the darkened castle they’d flown over—and the crowned woman she’d seen in the Magic Mirror. “Does the princess live with the king?” she asked.
“Yes! Yes! Of course!” Elise said impatiently. “Her father is King Robert and her mother was Queen Cecile, and that’s why she’s a princess.”
Marianne was Cecile’s daughter, which made her the Prince’s cousin. Mrs. Potts hadn’t mentioned a cousin when she’d told Belle the story of the twin queens, but she might not have known about her. Did the Prince know? Whether he did or not, one thing seemed clear: it was Princess Marianne who had imprisoned the Prince.
But why?
“Someone cast a spell on her that made her dark with sadness and grief,” Elise went on. “She has to keep all the castle gates locked, and she and the king can never leave the castle. Nobody can go in, either.”
“In real life it wasn’t a spell,” Nicole told Belle.
“It was because the queen died,” Belle said. Nicole and Granny T nodded. “Paul told me earlier that the king locked himself away after her death.”
“That’s right,” Elise agreed. “He’s enchanted, too.”
Paul returned with the firewood. “Sorry it took me so long. Rain got into the bin, and I had to dig down to find pieces that weren’t soaked.” He placed several logs on the burning embers. The flames shot up, crackling as they ignited the new wood. The moisture from the wood turned to steam, and delicate puffs of white rose above the flames and then vanished. As with the steam balloon, the transformation from cold to hot was as amazing as anything in a fairy tale.
It struck Belle that magic was all around them, all the time. This was more proof that made-up stories weren’t so far from the truth. Belle understood how the death of someone you loved could cast a kind of spell. Enchantment was just a way to describe something very real. But grief alone didn’t explain the behavior of the person she had seen in the Magic Mirror. Why would the Prince’s cousin have locked him in a dungeon? Could Elise be right? Was there some other dark enchantment at work?
“Before Queen Cecile died, it was much different,” Nicole said. “After she and King Robert were married, it was like the sun had come out in our village. Even the cloudiest days felt bright and cheerful.”
Granny T nodded. “Queen Cecile was special,” she said. “The king knew a lot about military affairs and about how to rule. But the queen came from a different background. She
loved art and music—and literature.”
“She’d planned to build a school in the village,” Nicole told Belle. “They started it but never got farther than the outer wall.”
Paul poked the fire. “Now that wall is just a pigpen,” he said.
“If the queen had lived, we’d have books in this village,” Granny T said. “Books for reading, not for doorstops or to patch holes in walls.”
“I wonder why the king didn’t finish the school, if it was what the queen wanted,” Belle said.
“Because he’s enchanted!” Elise said, hopping down from the stool. “I just told you that.”
“No, Elise,” Granny T said. She turned to Belle. “We heard from a few of the servants who worked in the castle that the queen begged the king to finish the school before she died. But he spent too much money bringing in doctors from all over the country to treat her. She’d caught a rare fever of some sort. No one could cure it.”
Paul stood and clapped the ashes from his hands. “The queen died, the servants left, and the school was forgotten, like the rest of the village.”
“Now the king and the princess have to wait for someone to break the spell,” Elise said.
“That’s right, Elise.” Granny T opened her arms and Elise ran over for a hug. “Good times always follow bad. Eventually.” She kissed the top of her granddaughter’s head. “But now it’s time for bed.”
Nicole nodded, and after she and Paul had tucked Elise into her blanket bed, they said goodnight and disappeared behind their burlap canopy. Elise waited a moment and then drew The Kingdom in the Clouds from under her blanket. “Read us a little, Granny.”
Granny T shook her head. “Elise…”
“Please? Just the part where Marie finds the palace.” Elise held out the book.
Granny T sighed and reached out to take it. “I want you to lie down and close your eyes, though.”
Elise yanked up her blanket and squeezed her eyes shut. Belle exchanged a smile with Granny T and tried not to laugh.
