It came to Belle quite easily as she lay awake that night that the best way to subdue the guards would be to somehow put them to sleep. Sedatives were easy to get hold of, she knew, having procured them for Frollo and the Archdeacon in the past; all she had to do was go to the pharmacy on the corner and request that the pharmacist not tell Frollo that she had been there. If he suspected her of helping the gypsy escape, well, Clopin was right, she would be in extreme danger. For that, she would have to pin a lot of the blame on Clopin himself once Frollo learned he had escaped; she would have to say that he had used the Devil’s influence to put the guards to sleep and then escape the cathedral walls using some form of dark magic.

The plan was a simple one, but Belle felt a quiver of fear in her stomach even so as she stepped into the pharmacy. Thankfully the pharmacist gave her what she asked for and didn’t even raise an eyebrow when she asked him not to tell Frollo she had been in there that day. The suivant step lay with giving it to them. That was easy too. Now that she had been permitted to take nourriture to Clopin, it meant that she could easily slip the sedatives into some wine which she could then offer to the guards. If there was one thing Belle knew about Frollo’s men it was that they could never resist red wine.

“You know, Belle,” a dit Frollo to her, that evening, “you are rapidly becoming a beautiful young woman.”

Belle blushed. “Vanity is sinful, Frollo, toi taught me that. I rarely see myself in mirrors.”

That was true to some extent. Recently whenever Belle had glanced into a mirror all she had seen was Clopin instead of her own reflection. She knew she was becoming increasingly fonder of him par the minute.

Frollo gave her a look that made her stomach writhe and squirm uneasily. “Many a man would become Ma Sorcière Bien Aimée par your beauty.”

He patted her hand, letting his slender bony fingers linger against hers for a moment. Uncomfortably, Belle got to her feet. “Then maybe I ought to pray to God to forgive me for such sin; for tempting men in such a vile way. Excuse me, but I believe it’s time for my daily penance again.”

Wondering what on Earth had suddenly come over her guardian, she left quickly and went into the kitchen. The packet of sedatives was in her tablier pocket and she felt another quiver of nerves as she dropped two each into the cups of wine she had poured out for the guards. The sedatives were pretty fast acting, so two would be enough to put them to sleep in no time. Taking a deep breath, Belle picked up the tray and headed downstairs.

The two guards were deep in conversation when she arrived, but they quickly straightened up at their posts when they spotted her. “Evening, Miss,” a dit one, giving her a small salute of respect. The other merely nodded.

Belle smiled. “Evening, boys. I thought toi might like a little refresher.” She held up the tray.

“Well, we really oughtn’t,” began the guard who had nodded.

“Oh, come on, it’s just one little drink. It can’t do any harm, surely?” Belle flashed them a pretty smile and that was all the encouragement the guards needed. Belle smiled as she walked past them. A seconde later, she heard their weapons clatter to the floor and she turned to see them clutter down after them, snoring. Quickly, Belle placed the tray on the floor and colombe down beside them. She searched for the keys as silently as she could manage, and eventually located them under one of the guards hats. Then, scooping up Clopin’s meagre souper into a handkerchief, she hurried towards his cell. He was lying down on his bunk, but he hopped right up when he heard her approach. Belle smiled.

“Hurry, we don’t have much time.” She fumbled with finding the right key. The third one, thin and slender, fitted and she quickly unlocked the door. It squeaked open as Clopin pushed it and Belle quickly shot a glance that the guards, but they were still fast asleep on the ground. Hustling the package of nourriture into Clopin’s hands, she turned and hurried down to the mur where the secret passage was located. Clopin followed her. Belle ran her hands along the mur and eventually found the gap in the bricks that triggered off the mechanism that activated the secret door.

“Come on,” she whispered, and together they hurried through it, down a flight of spiral stairs and into a long dark corridor beyond.

“Hold on.” Clopin immediately conjured feu onto two small batons and the corridor was flooded with light.

“How do toi do that?” Belle asked, in awe.

“Magic,” he replied, mischievously.

Belle led the way down the corridor. It was larger than she remembered, and plus filled with shadows, but the firelight and Clopin’s presence made her feel much braver for being there. Eventually they reached the end and Belle pushed at the grill that led to an area of town around the back of the docks. “No one will know this is how toi escaped,” she reassured him. “I’ll make something up to satisfy Frollo that I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“You’d better.” Clopin smiled. “I don’t want toi getting into trouble.”

“I’ll be fine.”

There was a pause.

“Come with me,” Clopin said, suddenly.

“Wh-what?”

“Come back to the Court of Miracles with me.”

Belle looked into his eyes and wanted to, really wanted to, but something inside her felt scared to accept. She had promised her parents that she wouldn’t cause trouble for Frollo, when she was a child, and she had to keep that promise. And out there, so suddenly, it just felt like too much, too quickly. Why she was so scared of going with him she couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t Clopin; he was nice, and the other gypsies too, it was just...she couldn’t work up the courage to accept.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Clopin’s disappointment showed on his face, but he replied in a loyal tone “I understand.” Then, from a pouch on his ceinture he pulled out a strange woven amulet. “Look, if toi ever change your mind, ou toi need help, this will help toi find your way to the Court of Miracles.”

“How?” Belle asked.

“Just remember when toi wear this woven band, toi hold the city in your hand.” Clopin pressed the amulet into her hands, clasping it in both of his. “Take care of yourself, Belle.”

“You too,” Belle whispered.

Clopin a volé, étole out into the night. Belle watched him disappear, swallowed up par darkness, before she closed the grill and then made her way back to the Palace of Justice. She made sure that the door to the secret passage was firmly closed before she crept back to where the guards were beginning to stir. Belle dropped to the floor outside the cell in what she hoped was a convincing position and closed her eyes. A seconde later she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

“What happened?” came Frollo’s voice.

“Uh, I don’t know, sir,” a dit one of the guards, groggily. “We were just...”

Belle took the opportunity to scrabble to her feet and run straight to Frollo. “Oh, oh!” she exclaimed, reaching him, her eyes wide in false fear. “Frollo, it was terrifying. The Devil within the gypsy rose up – I saw it with my own eyes! He came and knocked the guards to sleep and then...it was so terrifying! Black magic! I was so scared!”

For emphasis she clung to him. That convinced Frollo enough. “Well, don’t just stand there!” he snapped to the guards. “The demonic gypsy roams free! Go after him!”

The guards jumped to it. Belle found herself led back to her room par Frollo. She couldn’t help smiling to herself, thinking that Clopin was probably all the way back in the Court of Miracles par now and the guards would never catch him.

“You poor child,” Frollo crooned, closing the door behind them. Belle was surprised. Frollo rarely ventured into her room. “You must be traumatised par that demon.”

Belle hated him for calling Clopin that but she knew that she had to play along. “Actually, Frollo, I think I’m feeling a lot better now I know that the guards are after him. They’ll catch him, won’t they?”

“Of course, my child.”

“Well,” Belle stammered, his leering once again filling her with unease, “it’s late. I should be going to bed.”

“An excellent idea,” Frollo agreed, placing his hands on her shoulders. He guided her towards the bed. Belle looked up at him, aware that this certainly wasn’t the action of someone innocently helping a person into bed. His smile, the feel of his fingers...Belle realised that she was scared.

“Frollo-” she began to say.

“Shh!” He placed a finger on her mouth. “Belle, toi don’t realise what toi do. toi don’t realise how toi make men feel. Is it any wonder toi were so taken in par that devil?”

Belle made to get to her feet, but with surprising strength, Frollo tossed her back down onto the bed. Belle gasped. “No!” she exclaimed. “No!”

“Silence, toi sill girl!” Frollo snapped.

What happened next, Belle didn’t like to think about. Part of it she blotted out of memory completely. All that she was aware of was struggling and muffled screaming...and pain. He hurt her. Belle was on the verge of fainting when it was suddenly all over. Trembling and aching all over, she watched him, with glazed eyes, as Frollo climbed off her, straightened his robes, and then walked out of the room without another word.

Belle lay still for a few minutes, the realisation of what had just happened still sinking in. Then, completely bewildered, she began to cry, softly. Her strength had completely deserted her and she was hurting all over. Slowly she managed to ease herself to her feet and stumble into her own private bathroom, not before she locked the bedroom door to keep him from returning. Even as she washed herself all over, however, Belle felt that she couldn’t wash away the shame she felt. Like she would never be fully clean again.

The physical pain began to leave her, but now there was pain in her cœur, coeur too, like she had betrayed a man she really, really liked, even though she hadn’t enforced Frollo’s actions in any way whatsoever. Belle couldn’t help but blame herself.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed into the bedsheets, talking to God, to her parents, to Clopin, and to herself all at once. “I’m so sorry.”