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Book: Belle: A Retelling of “Beauty and the Beast” By Cameron Dokey by Unknown
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secret heart? Such a hidden place seemed as fine as any for a being bound by rules of
enchantment, but not those that fettered the rest of us, to call his home.
And now you know as much about the Wood as I did when I first set foot beneath
its boughs.
On the first day of our journey, we set off long before the sun was up. It felt a strange, unnatural time to be leaving, as if we were beginning our new life before the old one was truly over. But it had been both of my parents’ choice. Neither of them wished to attract a crowd. I think, even of well-wishers, and certainly not those who pitied us or would gloat over our misfortune. It was better to slip away quietly, though not so quickly as to seem like we were running away.
Winding our way through the city streets, the jangle of harnesses and the steady
clop of our horses’ hooves on the cobblestone were the only sounds. After a time, we reached the stone wall that wraps around the town like outstretched arms. There are gates set into the wall at regular intervals so that no one from outside can sneak up on the city.
Neither my sisters nor I had ever left the protection of the city walls. We did so now, in single file. Just as my horse stepped through the gate, the sun came up. I pulled back on the reins in surprise.
For instead of the blue of the ocean to which I was accustomed, I found myself
looking out into a waving sea of green, flecked with rose and gold. And so it was that I saw the Wood for the very first time, while it looked to hold the greatest promise: at dawn.
Unexpectedly, I felt my heart lift. Perhaps Papa is right , I thought. Perhaps all may yet be well after all .
Then I put my heels to my horse and followed my family toward whatever lay in
store.
“Where is the heart of the Wood, Grand-père Alphonse?” I asked several hours later. “Do you know?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I though I saw him smile.
The two of us were now riding at the head of the party, instead of bringing up the rear in single file as we had been before. Beyond the city gate, the narrow streets of the city opened out into a great causeway that ran the length of the wall, making it easier for the large wagons of trade caravans to navigate. Something about all that space just plain went to my head, as far as I can tell.
Having spurred my horse on once, I had done so again, moving forward to the
front of the line. Hardly my usual position, but why shouldn’t I go first? We were beginning a new life. Surely, the old order of things need not apply.
It was exciting to feel the wind in my face and to know my eyes were the first to gaze upon whatever was to come. After a few moments, Grand-père Alphonse joined me, for even once we entered the Wood, the path stayed broad enough for the two of us to travel side by side. Besides that, it made good sense for Grand-père Alphonse to take the lead. He was the only one who actually knew where we were going.
Not that any of us could have gotten lost. The path ran as straight as that of an arrow. The trees grew so close along the roadway that I could have reached out and brushed them with my fingertips. I inhaled deeply, tasting the sharp scent of pine at the back of my throat.
“You are thinking of the story,” Grand-père Alphonse said.
“I suppose I am,” I answered with a smile. “Perhaps I’m simply being childish.
We’ve heard dozens of stories over the years, but I never thought I’d actually set foot inside the Wood itself. That makes the tales feel…different, somehow.”
“I know just what you mean,” Grand-père Alphonse said with a nod. “I felt the
same way myself, the first time I came here, as if all the tales were going to come to life around me.”
“Well, if they’re going to do that.” Celeste piped up behind us, “why not look for the grove that rains down golden coins? If we gathered some of those, we could go back home where we belong.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to find the heart
enchantment, but not those that fettered the rest of us, to call his home.
And now you know as much about the Wood as I did when I first set foot beneath
its boughs.
On the first day of our journey, we set off long before the sun was up. It felt a strange, unnatural time to be leaving, as if we were beginning our new life before the old one was truly over. But it had been both of my parents’ choice. Neither of them wished to attract a crowd. I think, even of well-wishers, and certainly not those who pitied us or would gloat over our misfortune. It was better to slip away quietly, though not so quickly as to seem like we were running away.
Winding our way through the city streets, the jangle of harnesses and the steady
clop of our horses’ hooves on the cobblestone were the only sounds. After a time, we reached the stone wall that wraps around the town like outstretched arms. There are gates set into the wall at regular intervals so that no one from outside can sneak up on the city.
Neither my sisters nor I had ever left the protection of the city walls. We did so now, in single file. Just as my horse stepped through the gate, the sun came up. I pulled back on the reins in surprise.
For instead of the blue of the ocean to which I was accustomed, I found myself
looking out into a waving sea of green, flecked with rose and gold. And so it was that I saw the Wood for the very first time, while it looked to hold the greatest promise: at dawn.
Unexpectedly, I felt my heart lift. Perhaps Papa is right , I thought. Perhaps all may yet be well after all .
Then I put my heels to my horse and followed my family toward whatever lay in
store.
“Where is the heart of the Wood, Grand-père Alphonse?” I asked several hours later. “Do you know?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I though I saw him smile.
The two of us were now riding at the head of the party, instead of bringing up the rear in single file as we had been before. Beyond the city gate, the narrow streets of the city opened out into a great causeway that ran the length of the wall, making it easier for the large wagons of trade caravans to navigate. Something about all that space just plain went to my head, as far as I can tell.
Having spurred my horse on once, I had done so again, moving forward to the
front of the line. Hardly my usual position, but why shouldn’t I go first? We were beginning a new life. Surely, the old order of things need not apply.
It was exciting to feel the wind in my face and to know my eyes were the first to gaze upon whatever was to come. After a few moments, Grand-père Alphonse joined me, for even once we entered the Wood, the path stayed broad enough for the two of us to travel side by side. Besides that, it made good sense for Grand-père Alphonse to take the lead. He was the only one who actually knew where we were going.
Not that any of us could have gotten lost. The path ran as straight as that of an arrow. The trees grew so close along the roadway that I could have reached out and brushed them with my fingertips. I inhaled deeply, tasting the sharp scent of pine at the back of my throat.
“You are thinking of the story,” Grand-père Alphonse said.
“I suppose I am,” I answered with a smile. “Perhaps I’m simply being childish.
We’ve heard dozens of stories over the years, but I never thought I’d actually set foot inside the Wood itself. That makes the tales feel…different, somehow.”
“I know just what you mean,” Grand-père Alphonse said with a nod. “I felt the
same way myself, the first time I came here, as if all the tales were going to come to life around me.”
“Well, if they’re going to do that.” Celeste piped up behind us, “why not look for the grove that rains down golden coins? If we gathered some of those, we could go back home where we belong.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to find the heart
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