Black Magic ▸ Prince Adam

IV

CELESTE HAS GONE MAD

CELESTE HAD BEEN standing at the hole in the wall for what felt like hours. It was her only way out, but below her was at least a ten story drop, and the window was ten feet away. She was typically confident in her ability to get out of bad situations, but even that jump was too far for her to risk.

She never thought she would miss Villeneuve. She definitely never thought she would miss the hut she called home. But anything was better than the tower she was stuck in. She was sure she would rather hear the Bimbette's squeal about Gaston's every move.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Celeste." She muttered to herself when she thought it through. This was much less painful than listening to the Bimbette's any day.

She took a step closer to the edge, grabbing the stone wall beside her in case she lost her balance. She sighed and stepped back, putting her hands on her hips. If Celeste was going to die, she wanted it to be quick and painless; and falling seemed to be the complete opposite of that. Her only other option was to unlock the door, which would be much easier if she had a bobby pin. The only thing she had was a wooden stool and a half empty pitcher of water.

Celeste eventually sighed and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall as she began to count the stones in the wall. "For once I wish I had Romeo and Juliet." She muttered. "At least that would kill time faster."

"Forgive my intrusion, mademoiselle." A thick French accent spoke as the cell door opened, scaring Celeste. "But the master has sent me to escort you to your room."

"I thought this was my room." Celeste replied, looking for the voice as she quickly stood up.

"You thought wrong." The voice said. "He is a beast. Not a monster."

"Am I losing my mind?" Celeste asked herself when she still hasn't seen anyone appear. "Surely I haven't been locked up that long."

"Allô," the voice said, a candelabra moving on the ground, waving one of its candlesticks.

Celeste screamed and threw the stool at the object and backed against the wall as much as she could. The candles went out, the prison in darkness yet again. She watched the candles relight, and she could now see two eyes and a mouth. "What are you?"

"I am Lumiere." The candelabra replied with a smile.

"And you can talk." Celeste said in shock.

A clock appeared, deep breaths coming from it for a moment before speaking. "Of course he can talk. How else is he supposed to communicate?" He turned to Lumiere. "As head of the household, I demand to know what you are doing."

"You're the head of the household?" Celeste questioned the mantel clock with raised brows.

"Yes," The clock responded. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Except for the fact that you're a clock?" Celeste shot back with just as much annoyance.

"Un moment, mademoiselle." Lumiere told Celeste as he dragged the clock away from her.

"I have most definitely gone mad." Celeste muttered to herself she watched the candelabra and clock argue. She was positive she had only been there for a few hours, but apparently, that was enough to start hallucinating. She made a mental note not to tell anyone when she returned to Villeneuve, that would get her sent to the mental asylum fairly quick.

Lumiere and the clock returned to Celeste. "Ready, miss?" Lumiere asked, bowing and using one of his candles to point to the stairs.

Celeste stared at the objects before looking around her cell. Neither were comforting options, but at least one meant she had more of a chance to escape. She sighed and stepped out of the cell, picking Lumiere up. "Your name is Cosworth." She told the clock as she followed him down the stairs.