Black Magic ▸ Prince Adam

II

CELESTE IS NOT IN LOVE WITH BELLE

"WHOA, PHILIPPE!" MAURICE said, pulling on the horse's reigns to stop him from almost running Celeste over. "Let's not run the poor girl over." He told the horse before smiling at the girl. "How are you, Celeste?"

"Same as I always am." Celeste shrugged before smiling up at the man. "Are you going to the market?"

"I sure am." Maurice nodded. "Is there anything you want?"

An escape from this village, she thought. "Nothing I can think of." She said, "just come back safely."

"I will." The older man promised. "Please keep Belle company, I know she worries when I'm gone."

"I will." Celeste promised in return before continuing on her way through the village, the opposite direction Maurice and Philippe were headed.

Celeste would be lying if she said she didn't worry about Maurice as well. Surely it wasn't to the same extent as Belle, but he was the closest thing to a father figure she had. Plus, she wasn't sure how long he could survive without his daughter, Belle was always taking care of him and he was quite protective of her.

The brunette grabbed some loose hay as she walked through the village, which was quite a bit considering how many horses there were. She arrived at her typical spot, a short stone wall closer to the edge of the village but still close enough that she could see people walking around and selling their goods. She hated not having anything to do, most of her days consisted of finding just about anything to entertain herself.

"Celeste," LeFou greeted the brunette as he stood next to her. "Fancy seeing you here."

"You saw me twenty minutes ago." Celeste said in a bored tone, paying more attention to the hay she was weaving together. She didn't know what she was trying to make, she was just trying to pass the time.

"True." LeFou agreed, "have you seen Gaston?"

"He's probably looking at himself in the mirror and using all the brain cells he has to figure out a way to marry himself."

"He's going to be a while then. I might as well get comfortable." LeFou said, jumping on the wall and sitting on the end, the only spot that wasn't occupied by Celeste. "What are you making?"

"A basket?" Celeste shrugged, still not looking up. "Maybe a strong enough noose to hang myself if I don't die of boredom before I finish."

"Is this what a life of a beggar—" LeFou stopped himself when Celeste gave him a sharp glare. "Sorry."

"Why don't you let me set you up with someone?" Celeste quickly changed the subject, finally abandoning the hay and looking at LeFou. "There's definitely someone in this village for you."

LeFou shook his head. "You don't know my type."

Celeste scoffed and almost looked at her friend in disbelief. "Gaston is your type."

LeFou almost seemed shocked at the response. "What led you to believe that?"

"I'm pretty sure half the village knows by now." Celeste retorted. "It's not hard to figure out. But if it makes you feel any better, I think you have more of a shot with him than he does with Belle."

LeFou shook his head. "I doubt that."

"Didn't he bite you on the stomach?" Celeste questioned with a raised brow. "I'm just saying, there's no explanation for that... well, maybe one."