When the seventh quill snapped in his paws, Belle’s temper snapped as well.
“I asked if I could help,” she said, snatching up the eight quill before he could mangle it, “and I’m done asking — just dictate your missive and be done with it!”
The Beast’s magnificent eyebrows furrowed and rose in quick succession, and if Belle didn’t know better she’d swear he was trying not to laugh.
“I didn’t hear you,” he finally admitted in a strangled voice.
“The roaring in your ears was too loud?” Belle asked sweetly.
The Beast glowered, and she hastily dipped the quill into the ink bottle and readied her parchment. “Don’t say anything you don’t want committed to writing,” she warned.
The Beast’s lip curled. “Your blatant attempt to curry favor has been noted and disregarded.”
“What?” asked Belle in a small voice.
The Beast gestured at her parchment and mimed a grotesque scrawl in the air.
Oh. He was dictating. “I can take a hint,” she muttered.
“Hah!” burst the Beast before visibly restraining himself. He jabbed a claw at her letter and Belle yanked it out of his reach before could furrow the parchment.
“Noted and disregarded,” prompted Belle.
The Beast snorted but resumed dictating. “Your blatantly false flattery—”
“You’ve already used ‘blatant.’ How about ‘patently’?”
He nodded. “— patently false flattery will not make me any more amenable to your proposal, which I hereby reject. You may not raise the rent above the statutory limits — which, I remind you, are based on the rate of inflation, and not the rate at which you would prefer to line your pockets. Moreover… Belle?”
She stared at him, ink dripping from her nib. Clearly the Beast had not withdrawn as far from the world as she’d thought. He cares about his people,, she realized.
“Any suggestions, o human thesaurus?”
Belle blinked. “No, it’s perfect.”
They stared at each other in mutual consternation.
“It’s nice to have someone with hands,” offered the Beast grudgingly. “Not to mention a vocabulary.”
Belle smiled tentatively. “It’s nice to be useful.”
Suddenly the Beast grinned — a frightful, feral sight that would have frightened her a few days ago, but now Belle merely raised an eyebrow in mute inquiry.
“We’ll finish that one later. I want you to help me eviscerate Lord Rodahl, who thinks he can help himself to every chambermaid who crosses his threshold. That is…” he paused and ran a massive paw over his mane, “will you help me, Belle?”
Belle was sure her answering smile was equally feral, if nowhere near as toothy. “Why, Beast, I thought you’d never ask.”
Dictatorial
“I asked if I could help,” she said, snatching up the eight quill before he could mangle it, “and I’m done asking — just dictate your missive and be done with it!”
The Beast’s magnificent eyebrows furrowed and rose in quick succession, and if Belle didn’t know better she’d swear he was trying not to laugh.
“I didn’t hear you,” he finally admitted in a strangled voice.
“The roaring in your ears was too loud?” Belle asked sweetly.
The Beast glowered, and she hastily dipped the quill into the ink bottle and readied her parchment. “Don’t say anything you don’t want committed to writing,” she warned.
The Beast’s lip curled. “Your blatant attempt to curry favor has been noted and disregarded.”
“What?” asked Belle in a small voice.
The Beast gestured at her parchment and mimed a grotesque scrawl in the air.
Oh. He was dictating. “I can take a hint,” she muttered.
“Hah!” burst the Beast before visibly restraining himself. He jabbed a claw at her letter and Belle yanked it out of his reach before could furrow the parchment.
“Noted and disregarded,” prompted Belle.
The Beast snorted but resumed dictating. “Your blatantly false flattery—”
“You’ve already used ‘blatant.’ How about ‘patently’?”
He nodded. “— patently false flattery will not make me any more amenable to your proposal, which I hereby reject. You may not raise the rent above the statutory limits — which, I remind you, are based on the rate of inflation, and not the rate at which you would prefer to line your pockets. Moreover… Belle?”
She stared at him, ink dripping from her nib. Clearly the Beast had not withdrawn as far from the world as she’d thought. He cares about his people,, she realized.
“Any suggestions, o human thesaurus?”
Belle blinked. “No, it’s perfect.”
They stared at each other in mutual consternation.
“It’s nice to have someone with hands,” offered the Beast grudgingly. “Not to mention a vocabulary.”
Belle smiled tentatively. “It’s nice to be useful.”
Suddenly the Beast grinned — a frightful, feral sight that would have frightened her a few days ago, but now Belle merely raised an eyebrow in mute inquiry.
“We’ll finish that one later. I want you to help me eviscerate Lord Rodahl, who thinks he can help himself to every chambermaid who crosses his threshold. That is…” he paused and ran a massive paw over his mane, “will you help me, Belle?”
Belle was sure her answering smile was equally feral, if nowhere near as toothy. “Why, Beast, I thought you’d never ask.”