The Secret Diary of Belle (Grimmoire Series)

Entry Thirteen

Oh my...

I had to will myself out of bed this morning, with the heaviest of heads I have experienced in my young life.

Allow me to try and recount the dinner conversation to the best of my ability...

The night could be divided into two, distinct parts.

The first part of the night began after I finished penning my last entry.

...

As I exited the bedroom, I realised I had no idea exactly in which room I was expected to attend dinner.

I walked down the hall, as it was the only direction to take. When I arrived at the fork, I looked left first and saw no signs of life. I turned right and again, nothing. Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly saw a light flicker and turned left once again — the entirety of the hall was completely illuminated now by lanterns.

Like a guiding light, they weaved around the halls and straight to a parlour, just near the double-locked-door from which I heard the chains the other day.

I was pensive about entering, as I knew he would be in there. But I remembered my plan, readied myself and stormed right in.

In addition to the slap, I was also prepared to refuse to the food, until I smelt it, that was.

The scent rendered me immobile. The overwhelming, fragrant smell of chicken went directly up my nose and embarrassingly, caused me to have a most saliva-filled response. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Belle, so glad you could be here."

His words cut through me like a warm knife in butter. My eyes opened and snapped to the direction of his voice, coming from the shadows over in the corner. He stepped into view.

Geroux was a very tall man with golden, blonde hair down to his shoulders. He had a chest that rivalled Pierre's, dark, haunted eyes and the most beautiful, imperfection-free skin I had ever seen. Not a scar, not even a wrinkle.

I would never describe a man as beautiful, but Geroux was simply breathtaking, disarmingly so. How unfortunate that a man with his proclivities should inhabit such a sublime body.

I realised I was simply staring at him. I swallowed hard (too much saliva from the chicken aroma) and flicked my eyes around the room, only seeing the food for the first time at that moment.

There was a roast chicken, roast potatoes, a medley of vegetables and sauces. Tears welled in my eyes, it had been so long since I had eaten real food. Sharpened steel, ivory handled cutlery.

The room was absolutely stunning, just like the other large rooms in this house, but I would be lying if I could remember specific details - as I was completely hypnotised by the poultry in front of me.

He walked around the table and pulled my seat out for me. I dutifully sat down and he gently pushed the chair toward the table.

He smelt odd, like a strong, manly smell mixed with something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Any chance of me slapping his face had vanished. For heaven's sake I already had a fork in one hand a knife in the other, ready to attack the food like a hunter with prey in its sights.

I was so focused on the food in front of me, I had momentarily forgotten about Geroux.

"Shall we?" he asked, insinuating it was appropriate to begin eating.

All pretence of ladylike behaviour went straight out the window as I ate the chicken with the gusto of a pig at a trough.

"I'm so glad you're enjoying the dinner," said Geroux, with an undeniable hint of glee to his demeanour. Only at this point, did I realise, that he was staring at me, smiling, the entire time I was eating.