Finding the Magic--A Novella

by Jack Lewis Baillot

  “I want to go home,” she whispered.

  The lump in her throat grew, and the tears escaped. Belle buried her head in her pillow and sobbed.

  Two

  Belle didn’t jump out of bed and cheerfully make her way to the kitchen for the next three mornings. She tried hard to be happy and smile, but it was difficult, and often she shuffled into the kitchen and sat down with a frown on her face. Even Chip’s smile wasn’t enough to brighten her mood, because Belle knew she would be spending each night beside the fire while Mr. Prince frowned at her.

  The fourth day, while Belle ate her porridge, Chip thumped through the door with his armload of wood. This time, when he threw it in the wood box, he sat down beside Belle instead of across from her. He grinned.

  “You know what you need?” he asked.

  “No,” Belle answered uncertainly.

  “You need to get outside. I think you have cabin fever.” He nodded and squinted in a way that made Belle laugh. “Hurry and finish eating. When you’re done, get on your coat, hat, and mittens. I have something to show you.”

  There was no way she could tell him no, so Belle obeyed and soon stood on the wide, front porch where Chip had ordered her to meet him. He appeared seconds after she arrived. He rounded the side of the mansion and carried two sets of ice skates with him.

  “Come on!” he called, as he started down the wide drive without her. Belle had no choice but to run after him, then follow as he left the drive and headed into the trees which lined it. Together they pushed through the branches and snow until they arrived at a frozen lake.

  “It’s so pretty!” Belle said. She stood under one of the larger trees and looked over the fresh snow and wide lake. The whole scene enchanted her.

  “It’s even prettier when you’re on the ice,” Chip said and handed her a pair of the skates.

  Belle nearly forgot about Mr. Prince as she raced Chip around the lake. They played tag and spun until they both were breathless and had to sit on a fallen tree while clouds drifted past overhead. While they sat, kicking the snow under their feet, Chip asked Belle how she liked the mansion.

  “It’s fun,” she said. She forced a smile.

  “But you’ve been sad, haven’t you?”

  “I think I just miss home,” Belle admitted. She hoped he didn’t ask too many questions.

  “And Mr. Prince frightens you?”

  She wanted to say no, but she also didn’t want to lie, so she nodded once.

  “He makes me nervous too,” Chip quietly said. “And I’ve been around him my whole life. I feel bad for him, though, more than I’m frightened of him. I think he has forgotten to see the nice things in the world, and he is bitter about whatever it is that happened to him. Mother tries to help him, but whatever it was, I’m afraid all he’s ever going to see is the bad around him.”

  “You think he needs someone to remind him?” Belle whispered. Something pricked at her.

  “Needs someone to remind him of what?” Chip asked.

  “That there is still magic in the world. You know, hope?”

  “Oh.” Chip grinned. “I think that is exactly what he needs. I think we all need someone to remind us there is still magic. Especially now.”

  Belle wasn’t sure how much she would like doing it, but she knew how she would feel if she didn’t have her dad’s reminder of hope. She determined to find a way to show Mr. Prince the magic, even if he did scare her. She would find a way to look past his thorns, no matter what.

  The idea of helping Mr. Prince kept Belle awake late into the night, and she woke early the next morning. When she went down to breakfast, she still hadn’t come up with many ideas, aside from the ones she and her dad had always used. She wasn’t sure if they would work on someone like Mr. Prince. She didn’t think he would like the idea of looking for fairies in the garden.

  Belle continued to ponder her ideas, even when Chip took his usual seat across from her and began to inhale his food. When he was half-way done, he paused long enough to speak.

  “You look as if you’re contemplating all the problems in the world all at once and how you alone might solve them.”

  Belle raised her head in surprise. “I do?” she asked.

  “You do.” Chip said. “Have you come up with any solutions? If you have and you need someone to help, then you can count me as your partner. You accepted me in spite of me being a Frenchman; the least I can do is help you cure the world of all its ills.”

  Belle bowed her head. “Thank you, my noble sir,” she said, “but my contemplations are not nearly so lofty... yet. I was merely thinking of ways to brighten up Mr. Prince’s world.”

  “You might as well be trying to fix everything else if that is the case,” Chip said. He settled back in his chair and stirred his half-finished porridge. “Have you any ideas?”

  “Not unless he likes to look for fairies.”

  Chip laughed at the idea. Belle felt she should be offended, but before she had a chance, she saw the humor in it and laughed as well. When they were done, Chip finished the rest of his breakfast and stood up. He told Belle to do the same. She obeyed, then put on her winter clothes when he instructed and followed him upstairs where he stopped in front of one of the many doors.

  “This is Mr. Prince’s room,” Chip explained at the same time he lifted his hand to knock. “I thought we could ask him if he’d like to go for a walk with us.”

  “Can I knock please?” Belle asked before Chip had a chance to rap his knuckles against the wood. She was grateful Chip stood at her side, but she still wanted to be the one who reached out to Mr. Prince.

  “You can if you want.”

  Belle didn’t like the way Chip said it and suddenly felt as if she were standing in front of the firing squad. She did her best to knock bravely, thinking of her dad in the war. If he could fight the Germans, she could help Mr. Prince. In spite of that, her knock sounded timid, and she wasn’t sure Mr. Prince even heard it.

  “You might have to knock louder,” Chip whispered after a long pause.

  Curling her hand into a tight fist, Belle tried again and rapped firmly. This time there was a response. The door opened after someone on the other end grunted, and Mr. Prince filled the door frame. He was bigger than Belle had before noticed. His hair was rumpled and stood up all over his head. He wore a faded dressing gown.

  “You,” he snapped when he saw Belle. “What do you want?”

  Her courage drained, and Belle did her best to smile.

  “Chip and I were going to go for a walk,” she said. She reached her hand out to Chip. “Would you like to come with us?”

  Mr. Prince blinked and stared, then his frown deepened.

  “A walk?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Now Chip joined in, which made Belle feel better. “In the snow. It snowed last night, and we thought it might be fun. We were going to take a walk through the trees, maybe look for fairies.”

  “Fairies?” Mr. Prince raised his eyebrows.

  “In the snow,” Chip confirmed.

  Scowling, Mr. Prince looked back down at Belle, and she tried to hide her hands as they shook.

  “Child,” Mr. Prince snapped, “fairies aren’t real. I don’t know who taught you they exist or live in the snow, but it is time you grow up. And leave me alone!”

  Mr. Prince stepped back into his room and slammed the door in Belle’s face as tears filled her eyes. She was just about to sit down and sob when Chip slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  “Don’t listen to him,” he whispered in her ear. “Come on, I’ll show you where the fairies live.”

  Moments after he locked Chip and Belle out of his chambers, Mrs. Potts appeared with his morning toast, coffee—which got weaker and weaker the longer the war went on—and hard-boiled egg. Once she had set everything on the small table by the fire, Adam Prince dismissed her and slowly ate his meal. As with most mornings, he silently complained about the coffee and lack of sugar he had become accustomed to pil
ing in it. The small spoon of honey and milk was nothing compared to how he used to sweeten his favorite drink. And if that wasn’t enough to complain about, the small amount of salt he had to sprinkle on his egg could be added to the list. The only comfort he had was that butter continued to be in good supply, since Mrs. Potts made their butter, all thanks to the cow.

  After he’d eaten and was able to take a moment to sit before the fire and enjoy the silence of his bedroom while he finished waking up, Mr. Prince felt more charitable toward the world. At least as charitable as he ever felt.

  Pushing himself up out of his worn chair, Mr. Prince crossed the room and drew back the heavy drapes he liked to keep closed. Usually, the only light he allowed in came from the fireplace and a few candles, but he remembered what Chip said about freshly fallen snow.

  She’d always liked new snow.

  With the curtains open, Mr. Prince shielded his eyes against the sudden blinding light and waited until they adjusted before he looked out. He was surprised to see Belle and Chip in the garden right below his window. Belle sat on one of the stone benches and dug her feet into the snow while Chip did handstands in front of her. When he dropped to his knees, Belle clapped.

  With a scowl, Mr. Prince unlatched the window and shoved it open. Neither heard, they were too busy laughing. When their laughter reached his ears, Mr. Prince’s angry command that they play somewhere else died on his lips.

  “See, I knew I could make you laugh!” Chip declared.

  “It isn’t that much of an accomplishment,” Belle informed him. “I always laugh. Usually, I mean.”

  “So you’re a cheerful person, then? I suppose you’d have to be, all the time you spend with fairies and who knows what else. Were you ever kidnapped by a dragon?”

  “Are you mocking me?” Belle asked warily.

  “I never mock a lady! Besides that, I’m French, and we don’t mock. I was just asking because I was training to be a knight last year. I had to give it up when I tried to save Mother from the vile, fire-breathing kitchen. She didn’t like my attempts to sweep her out the door and hit me with a spoon. Since she is the only lady around here, I’ve had no other way to practice being a knight in shining armor.”

  Even though he knew he now eavesdropped and that was something only children did, Mr. Prince leaned his elbows on the windowsill and continued to listen.

  “Well.” Belle stood up and placed her hand on her forehead. “I have not wished to speak as there was never any knight around to come to my aid or fight for my honor. I felt I must suffer in silence, but now I know of your secret occupation I feel I can trust you, good sir Knight.”

  Chip dropped down to one knee. “Just say what it is, my fair maid, and I shall not stop until I have saved you... or lifted your curse... or whatever else it might be which has put you in mortal danger.”

  Clasping her hands over her heart, Belle fluttered her eyelashes, and Mr. Prince nearly smiled.

  “It is this plight which has befallen me, my good knight. I have been taken far from my home, to a country I barely recognize. I hope to be a brave maiden in this trail which has overcome me, but I feel myself wavering with the overwhelming burden. My good knight, I have found myself with a dire mission of which I feel the call to answer, but my courage leaves me at the very thought of it.”

  “And what is this mission that one so fair and brave would feel her heart waver at just the thought of?” Chip asked. He reached up and grabbed one of her hands, holding it in his.

  “A curse has befallen this land I find myself in. An evil beast has thrown it in darkness, and while the darkness is too big for me to lift, I feel I must do something to fight it like the knights who have gone off to fight the beast himself. There is a gentleman I have come under the acquaintance of, who I feel is in most need of a friend. I fear he has come under a different kind of curse, and I wish to lift it, but I am much too frightened to do it alone. Will you, O noble knight, aid me in this quest?”

  Chip leaped to his feet and kissed Belle’s hand before he bowed gallantly.

  “My dear maid, consider me your knight in shining armor. I shall be at your side during this quest. We shall start at once!”

  Straightening, Mr. Prince stared down at them in surprise when he realized they were talking about him. He, under a curse? Was that how Belle saw him?

  “They’re just being childish,” he snapped and turned his back to the window and crisp air. He walked over to the fire and stood in front it. He fought to keep back the smile he could feel.

  She would have found the whole thing amusing. She would have sat down in his chair and giggled over it. Her Adam Prince, under a curse. She’d have laughed over the idea of the little French boy and the displaced British girl attempting to lift it. Then she would have pulled him outside and made him walk through the snow-covered garden with her. But more than any of that, she would have rebuked him for hiding up in his bedchamber, spying on the two children.

  Returning to the window, this time with the intent to close it, Mr. Prince paused when he realized Belle and Chip had all their attention on a snowman. They rolled balls of snow all over the garden, and every few seconds they paused to throw snowballs at each other.

  Mr. Prince had to admit, Belle did seem like a kind girl. The sort of girl he could grow to like if he could learn how to stop slamming doors. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he left the window open as he prepared to dress.

  Three

  Mr. Prince didn’t even look at Belle over dinner, and she was frightened that she had upset him. She envisioned long, miserable months of his anger and had to remind herself of Chip’s promise. Even though they had been playing at the time, she knew he’d meant every word he had said.

  When she joined everyone in the drawing room and claimed her usual seat beside Chip, she tried to keep her gaze away from Mr. Prince. She didn’t want to make things worse.

  She tried to concentrate on her book but jumped when Mr. Prince spoke.

  “Child, come here.”

  She looked up, and her heart sank when she saw he looked right at her. Mr. Prince didn’t appear as angry as when she had knocked on his door, but he frowned, and she didn’t really wish to go over and sit in the chair beside him which he motioned to. However, neither did she wish to anger him by not obeying, so she stood. She felt better when Chip squeezed her hand and winked at her.

  She hoped she didn’t look frightened as she eased into the chair beside Mr. Prince and tightly clenched her book. She kept her eyes on the floor until Mr. Prince cleared his throat. She was surprised to discover he looked almost as uncomfortable as she did.

  “What... um... what book are you reading?” he asked.

  “Emma,” she answered. She wished her voice didn’t shake.

  “Isn’t that a romantic story?”

  “A bit. More near the end, I think.” Belle thumbed through some of the pages. “I’ve never read it before, but Chip thought I might like it.”

  “Do you?” Mr. Prince frowned at the book.

  “Yes.” Belle nodded. She wished she could say more, but her tongue suddenly refused to work.

  “I thought you might enjoy more fantasy stories... fairy tales,” Mr. Prince said.

  Belle feared she had somehow upset him again, or that he was trying to remind her how angry he had been over her fairies in the garden, but then she caught a small twinkle in his eye. She kept quiet longer than she meant to, and when she spoke her voice didn’t shake like she thought it would.

  “I do. My dad gave me a copy of the Grimm’s Fairy Tales.”

  “Hmm,” Mr. Prince murmured. “Tomorrow come to the library after breakfast. I will show you where I keep the fairy tale books. You can borrow them... if you want.”

  Out of everything that had happened that day, Belle found this the hardest to understand. But she nodded as Mr. Prince stared off into the fire, their short conversation at an end.

  Belle didn’t go to the library until after Mrs. Potts had s
erved Mr. Prince his breakfast. She then waited half an hour to make sure she didn’t interrupt him before she allowed Chip to show her the way. He left her at the door after he made certain she would not need the further services of her noble knight.

  “If you need an escape, my fair maid, just scream,” Chip said before he disappeared down the hall.

  With that in mind, Belle pushed the door open. She stopped and stared when it swung back and revealed the library. She’d expected the room to look like the rest of the mansion—dark and dreary, even colorless. Instead, it was flooded with light and color. Large, open windows allowed the morning glow to brighten the room. The walls—the ones not covered in bookshelves—were white and there were soft, lace-like designs reaching from the top of the walls to the ceiling. Pillars lined the hall, an elegant staircase twisted to the second story, and all around were white bookshelves covered with more books than Belle had ever seen in her life.

  “Well?” Mr. Prince stood at the railing on the upper story. He wore a dark gray suit, and his hair was somewhat combed. He leaned on the banister and shuffled his feet. “What do you think?”

  “It’s amazing,” Belle whispered. She stared at some of the books nearest her, gazing in wonder at the bindings and lettering. So many stories! She could spend the rest of her life here and still never reach the end.

  Clearing his throat, Mr. Prince stood upright and motioned to Belle.

  “Up here is where I keep the fairy tales.”

  Belle felt like she floated on air as she hurried up the staircase and followed Mr. Prince past the shelves. They reached well up over her head, but there were ladders nearby.

  “Some of the books are written in French, but many are in English,” Mr. Prince said as he stood back so she could get a better look.

  Her hands clasped, Belle let her eyes drift over the many titles, and a small sigh escaped her lips.

  “This is so wonderful,” she breathed. She turned to Mr. Prince. “Thank you so much for letting me come here!”

  Again, she thought she caught a twinkle in his eyes as he cleared his throat.