♕ ʜᴇʟʟ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ♕

It wasn’t funny that in the era of saints being able to publically use their powers, Sam felt more powerless than ever, plans to attack and finally dismantle their bullshit power hungry royalty thwarted because Liam didn’t want to upset his girlfriend. Heaven forbid a Delacroix be forced to deal with the realities of the world, or even the realities of their atrocious family. 

Sam had been the first person outside of Gaspard and his guards to know about his heartbreak! His weakness! It had undeniably been the perfect time to strike, and Liam had denied them their chance. Now things were getting worse, and Sam was pissed as hell about it. This war that Aurora warned of, it was exactly what Sam had been trying to avoid.

So screw Liam, and screw waiting around for some supposed leader to give them permission to act! That wasn’t how Sam worked! They’d always been the one to take matters into their own hands, to do what had to be done despite authority figures trying to deny them that right. 

But of course, in a world of unpredictable powers, perhaps it would’ve been wise to tell someone of their plans. Just in-case. Alice would probably be able to wager a guess at their war-path, but it was unlikely anyone else would have a clue. Jean would be impossible to get to, but Sam knew one Delacroix who cared too much about their image to sit inside the protective walls of the castle.

They’d marched right up to her table, ignoring the host, ignoring the warning that fluttered in their chest as they drew closer. Ignoring until it took over.

Belle had always been beautiful, but once Sam had gotten to know her mind she’d become repulsive, a vapid and evil girl with no substance to attract them long term. 

Somehow, though, today, that smile was all it took to soften them. Just a little, their edges filed down in a glance. Because it’d take far more to entirely suck the political activist out of them, of course, because changing the core of a person required much more power. But suddenly it just didn’t seem as important, the matter no longer so pressing.

Sam looped their ankle around the chair to pull it out, crashing down into it and slouching comfortably. “Figures while your family does abhorrent shit you’re just sat here trying to blind people to those horrors by being pretty.”

“Abhorrent? Well, I’m surely not a fan of Emilia’s relationship with that Leo boy, but I thought you might be a little more approving of it.” Looking like the picture of innocence, Belle let her smile grow slightly, pushing through a sliver of her new power. Though she would never admit it, she’d always found Sam amusing, throughout both the original crush and the later resentment. This new power, however, was even more interesting to see their reaction to, and Belle was incredibly eager to experiment with it. 

Still, that didn’t mean she was going to force them to moon over her like the many civilians she’d managed to pick up. Part of the fun with Sam was their personality, and if she were to placate that, there wouldn’t be anything left to enjoy about this conversation, and Belle could dismiss them as easily as the ones that came before. 

It was an interesting sight to see, likely. The princess, sitting straight-backed like her etiquette lessons had forced her to endure, hands folded on the table, and Sam sitting across from her, slouching comfortably in the chair. Part of her wished that she could lose her rigid posture too, but the place was too crowded for her to even attempt such a thing. In fact, she sent out a soft blanket of admiration to make the attendants lose the expression of confusion at her company, and replace it with googly eyes towards herself. 

The rush of power filled her instantly, and despite the rigid posture, Belle’s shoulders sagged slightly into relaxation. “I’m glad you think I’m pretty at least, Benson.” She replied with a tilt of the head, eyes twinkling slightly with that cruel amusement she often possessed, though the way her hair fell over her shoulder was likely powerful enough to mute that. “I would’ve hated it if you thought the opposite of me, even for a second.”

There was no official proclamation of her powers yet, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tease. Still, her voice wasn’t loud enough for the table beside them to hear. 

“Now, would you like something to eat or not?” It barely took more than a glance for the waiter to rush over to her table, looking eager to help the princess, but knowing her reputation, that was nothing new. Before waiting for Sam to answer, she started on her own order, before briefly nodding her chin towards them as a prompt.

date: july 29th location: inside the palace availability: to belle delacroix @unebellefacade

JP meandered into his sister’s quarters, surprised by the enormous pile of bags and boxes left there from her recent shopping spree. His staff had told him random civilians had come into the castle leaving the princess’ spendings but it was one thing to hear about it and then another to see the truth and how much it was.

Sighing as he looked around, he finally moved to sit at her desk and to read the pile of receipts. The young, new King only looked up to the door at the sound of clicking high heels. He could recognize his elder sister’s strides anywhere. The moment she came through the door and looked at him, JP spoke.

“Belle… We need to talk.” He said pointedly. His gaze momentarily wandered to the pile of shopping.

“Yes, yes, brother — we always have to talk, don’t we?” Rummaging through her newest purchases, Belle managed to find what she was looking for after going through five identical looking bags and pulled out a small but elegant gift box. “There you are,” She murmured to herself before handing the box to her new king.

Of course, her shopping spree had been quite extravagant — she went a little bit overboard, but the majority of it was gifted by the many civilians that had found themselves affected by her powers. The little box, however, was what she had gone out for. A gift, for her brothers’ recent coronation, one she’d forgotten about in all the hecticness.

“It’s a tie. Purple is a color often associated with royalty, so I felt it was only a proper choice for your coronation present.” She smiled lightly, before turning back to taking out her purchases. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Emilia Delacroix had never truly known sadness before.She felt a hint of it when her aunt died, but hearing the news that her father was dead truly broke something inside of her. Her mind just kept replaying memories of the two of them. She could still remember listening to him tell tales of teaching her to walk and how she quickly went from barely being able to walk 2 feet to sprinting out the door. She remembered picking flowers from her mother’s garden and gifting it to him. She remembered everything of her dear old father. She had screamed when the news broke. She had wailed— surrounded by people who didn’t know whether to comfort her for the loss of a family member or rejoice because that’s one less person on their list. She had bawled at his funeral, but somehow even days later she had no satisfaction.

Even though she had been successfully avoiding her family minus the funeral, there was one person in the castle that she longed to see. She needed her best friend, her rock, her Quinn. The other girl had a way of making her happy even in situations where happiness may not be the easiest thing to find. She wanted that childlike joy back, and plus she really missed talking to her friend. The one bad thing about staying within Inferno’s walls was the lack of availability to see those she truly cared about that were still in the castle.

Wandering into the Golden Apple, Emilia glanced over towards the stage. She knew Quinn usually sang during these days. She had practically memorized the girl’s schedule half because she needed to know when she would need to get another anchor to escort her wherever she wanted to go and half because she enjoyed popping in to see her friend perform. Sadly, Quinn wasn’t singing that night.  She supposed the restaurant didn’t want someone to sing after what chaotic events have occurred.

Hovering around, she was about to lead back to Inferno when she heard her sister’s voice. She hadn’t see her sister since the funeral, hadn’t seen anyone in her family since the funeral, and a pang of sadness hit her like a second wave. She listened as Belle requested for her to join her, and Emilia immediately went over. She had tried to be strong, but as soon as she started walking closer to her sister’s table her lip started quivering and she found tears forming in her eyes. Her voice was only able to choke out one word.

“Belle.”

Belle barely even registered getting up, just the sight of Emilia, lip quivering, tears forming in her eyes was enough for her to snap out of the power high she’d been on. Hands were holding onto her younger sister within seconds, one laying on the side of Emilia’s face, the other lacing through her fingers for support and comfort. She lost her confident façade almost instantly, realizing that whilst she was exceptionally talented at pushing away her emotions and instead thriving off the anger that fueled her regarding the affair her father was having with Belle’s best friend, but the tears on her sisters’ face were more than enough to break away from that and instead form something more comforting.

“Hey, hey—” The words tumbled off her lips as she drew Emilia closer, into a hug. “I’m here, little sister, it’s all going to be okay...”

She couldn’t really figure out how it was going to be okay, but for Emilia, she would figure it out. There was always more of a protective feeling she had with her sister compared to her brothers, probably because she was the youngest, but Belle figured it was also because they were such polar opposites. Maybe her personality wasn’t a good fit to be Emilia’s friend, but it surely was a good fit to be her protector. And Belle realizes that maybe, just maybe, in her power craze, she had been thoroughly neglecting those duties. 

“Come on,” After leading her sister towards the bathroom, she gave a dismissive wave to the women standing in the room and pulled out a handkerchief from her handbag, dabbing it lightly underneath Emilia’s eyes to dry the tears.

“You know I’m not the best in... this sort of thing,” She started, expression slightly tensed into awkwardness. Belle was bad with emotions. It was a known fact. She wouldn’t know the right words to say to someone deep in their grief if they were floating right in front of her. “But I’m here for you. I’m always here for you. I know that I’ve been absent, and I know that I haven’t been trying very hard lately because of, well, everything — but I need you to know that if there’s ever anything, you have me.”

“Belle.”

Her name left Lucian’s lips like a whisper among cattails. It was true that Gaspard always left Lucian in an array of anger and disappointment. There was possibly no one he despised more than his own father. However, he of all people knew that there was a thin line between love and hate, and as much as Lucian didn’t approve of his father and what he stood for, it wouldn’t erase the 17 years he shared with his family. 

Lucian never hesitated to hate his father because deep down, he always assumed that there would be time to forgive him in the future. And suddenly, there was none. 

Lucian’s chest was hollow when he approached Belle, the hood shadowing his face slowly falling to his shoulders, finally revealing the face that had remained hidden from his own bloodline since he had left the castle.

“Lucian,” The confident expression Belle had been putting on was now failing her, replaced by one of genuine shock. Her younger brother was not who she’d expected to see, even if the shadowy hood had obscured his face from her. The shock quickly faded into the affectionate look she saved only for her siblings. Familia ante omnia. They might have their disagreements and they might have their faults, but Belle, particularly in her role as the oldest of the bunch loved them rather fiercely.

“Y-you can sit down — if you’d like...” She barely ever sounded anything but confident with speaking, but both the shock and the old heartache that poured into her from seeing Lucian had taken her by surprise. “Actually, I take back that last part. Sit down. I’ve missed you, and I want to have your company for more than a second.”

So maybe her father’s heart was squeezed apart inside his chest, so maybe her best friend was a Saint hiding her powers who was then put in an early grave as well, so maybe those two had been having an affair for God knew how long — Belle Delacroix was having a marvelous day, and nothing could ruin that. Part of her realized it may have been a little... sacrilegious even, taking the power of her best friend, with her body so fresh in the ground, but this was what she wanted. Now she wielded both swords, fear and love. It was a strange sensation, feeling herself brim with power like this, and the first days after Violette bestowed the light upon her, she had done nothing but let it out. 

Reality had started setting in soon, though. Athos needed some fixing up after all the chaos, and even though Jean-Pierre had taken the reigns of the Kingdom, she — especially with all this newfound power she had, both through the light and her connection to Violette — had a duty to help put it all back in order. She had not made an official statement yet regarding the power she’d lifted from her dead friend; she was still debating if she would, to begin with. And then, of course, there was the fact that despite her best intentions, Belle was mourning. She had loved her father, despite his choices. And Nikita... Dear God — it was like she mourned the friendship, the dishonesty that made her doubt everything now, as much as she mourned the loss of Nikita herself. 

Belle, horrible at processing her emotions in a normal, healthy manner, however, acted this out in the only way she knew how to: a complete lack of empathy and the extremely reckless spending of money. The new powers were an added bonus there too, she let them flaunt, needing the adoration to lift that dark cloud hovering over her — and soon there were people lining up to help carry her bags, or buy her gifts. How Nikita had not flaunted this might baffled her. She sent a few of them on their way to the palace, carrying her new possessions, whilst she found a table at the Golden Apple, not even in a private room. It was good to be seen among the people, was it not? And the eager looks she was receiving from the other patrons were quite an alluring prospect as well. 

“Of course you may join me for a bite,” Belle spoke up to whoever stepped by her table, a smile filled with pure radiance, from both her power and the way she was trying to fool everyone into thinking she was doing absolutely fine. She could already see the headline: BELLE DELACROIX, PRINCESS OF THE PEOPLE. 

It was only then she looked up to see who, exactly, she’d invited to her table.

A long night fraught with restlessness and her mind awake searching for answers, Mina did not think she had slept since the Ball itself. Perhaps this had been because although she feared what the message from Bellamy Delacroix had brought, she had fixated upon the moment that she had shared with Royce upon the balcony. She deeply regretted her actions, although something within her couldn’t help but want more. She had thought about it before; their relationship had been one that never truly had any defined lines or boundaries for what they meant to one another. Their first meeting had resulted in her being cautious of the repercussions of her powers to someone who was a Royal, yet overtime it had come to him being one of her closest friends as she was his confidant.

It was because of this she feared what the blood staining the wall within the message brought to the Palace meant for all of them. So many people within these hallowed halls were her friends, and she didn’t know what she would do if something happened to them. She tried to bring her mind back to recall the events over the last few hours, her mind slightly fuzzy because of the champagne that she had drunk; trying to recall if she had heard a thought that resembled Bellamy’s at all. However at these thoughts, she began to hear a knock upon the doors of her room, startled out of her own mind to come to the present. She easily recognised the thoughts, if not the voice and she instantly began to move towards the door, her fingers lightly grasping upon the brass handle as she tilted her head to look at the Princess with surprise upon her features at the early awakening.

“What’s wrong Belle?” She asked, although she could calculate a guess of why she had been approached, if not for the thoughts she could feel attaching to her own mind. “Why don’t you come in?” She replied, before opening the door wider to allow her entrance.

Belle rarely ever apologized — especially to those who were not her family, and even with those, it took her quite some effort. This also meant that she offered no apology, not even a slightly regretful look, for waking Mina at this early hour. She never had to explain her actions, the slightly more normal ones, at least — it was one of the perks of being a princess, she just did. Mina opened the door to her chambers and she strode right in, making herself at home in the room immediately by taking a seat and wrapping her shawl a little tighter around herself as if it were some sort of blanket instead. It wasn’t necessarily just her typical behavior, but it was because she felt comfortable around the Anchor. After all, when someone could hear what you were thinking as clearly as your voice, what was there to hide?

“There’s nothing wrong, I just —” She paused for a brief second, hoping Mina would pick up on her sleepless night and the list of possible explanations for the night that haunted every inch of her thoughts. It gave also gave her time for a quick breath, to pull herself together just that slightest bit more, and not make her seem like some raging lunatic. “I have to ask, was there anything you picked up on tonight? Not even him, necessarily, just anyone with an inkling of a thought or inside knowledge as to what was going on.” 

She pulled her shawl even tighter, wrapping her hands up in it. It was always an instinct to wrap herself up when she was around Mina — her years of keeping secrets and scheming behind others’ backs making her feel like she needed an extra layer around her when her mind was so vulnerable. She knew she had nothing to fear, she even knew that she quite enjoyed Mina’s company, but she still couldn’t help herself. “I know you’ve probably already been asked about what happened tonight, but I had to come over and talk to you — it’s driving me absolutely mad, I can’t even fall asleep, all because some prick left that note.”

It felt like ages since she spent some quality time with her sister. The two of them were always on separate paths, but in recent weeks it seemed like events really showed how different the girl’s lives were headed. Belle spent her time in the castle dealing with political issues and wars and Emilia spent her days exploring outside the castle and forming a bond with a few saints that no doubt wold receive a head shake if she were to hang out with them at the castle. She knows the two of them were night and day– Belle as mysterious and powerful as the moon and Emilia as warm and bright as the sun, but she adored her older sister. Growing up in a family of boys, it was refreshing to simply be able to walk about the gardens with Belle and discuss anything from fashion to boys to personal issues. 

Emilia had asked around to find where her sister had run off to, and finally someone had told her she appeared to be headed towards the church when they last saw her. Emilia had grown up religious, all Delacroixs were, but it seemed like time had certainly passed since the last time she really sat down and focused in church. She had been so preoccupied with other things in the past few weeks that it was a thought pushed onto the back burner. Now, with the letter at the masquerade claiming to be her long dead ancestor Bellamy, it felt odd to be going to a church dedicated to his memory. 

Emilia had glanced around the building when she arrived and she finally spotted her sister getting up from one of the benches. She was about to head over and announce her presence when she saw her sister’s focus shift to a couple of people near the side and Emilia couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. She knew she should react more like Belle and be disguised at the sight, but the mischievous part of her approved of the adventurous couple. She waited until the couple had slipped their clothes on and scurried out one of the side doors before finally addressing her sister.

“I’m sure there was some worship involved with those two. I think I heard an “oh god” or two before they got interrupted.” 

There was always something that felt reassuring about seeing Emilia. Her sister was vastly different from herself — but being the only two girls in their family of boys had created a bond, one that made Belle feel more protective about her than the rest of them. She felt like in a way, she was partially responsible for the girl, because — aside from their mother, who she didn’t consider much — she was the oldest female influence in their family. Emilia made Belle feel inspired to do a little better, reigned in her worse impulses the slightest bit because she wanted to be the right example for her younger sister, so in a way, the sun to her moon was always a positive influence on her life and personality. At the sight of her face inside the church, her lips couldn’t help but curl up in a smile, and her eyes slightly crinkled.

“Worship, definitely — I just think the altar was a much different one than God means for us to pray at in His building,” She winked conspiratorially, smile turning into one filled with much more amusement. “I bet those weren’t buttons I heard hitting the floor, but rosary beads.” 

The couple hastily scurried off ( as they should have, with the glare Belle was sending in their direction ) and left her alone with her sister. As if the interaction had made her feel dirty in a way, she brushed the non-existent dirt off her skirt, though she realized that with Emilia, there was not much of a need for her to keep up the act. She figured her sister would understand the hint of anxiety that came from the dead-yet-alive guy’s statue towering over them — but that didn’t mean Belle was not immediately prepared to strengthen her resolve against Bellamy Delacroix if that would make Emilia feel better about it in any way. 

“So, did you come to pray for something today — or just to get a good look at the face of that enormous statue in case our ancestor shows up and we don’t recognize him?” She nodded her chin delicately towards the altar, eyes slightly narrowed now, less anxious, and more secure in her position. Being around family usually did that for her to begin with. “Dear Lord, do you think a statue that massive was meant to compensate for something else?”

So when the Prince was coming out of the church after a talk with the pastor and heard the familiar voice of Belle Delacroix, JP could not help but smirk both at the scene she was undoubtedly causing and the fact that coincidently, he had been wanting to see her that day anyway. He turned to watch her yelling at a couple by the entrance of the church and casually made his way over. “Ah, love,” JP mused gently, smiling at the startled couple. While Belle had always commanded with force no matter who it was, JP liked to charm the locals - saving his darker aspects for people he employed, people he needed for something and those he knew. But as long as the general public saw him as a shining light of goodness and adored him, he had quite the advantage.

“Truly a gift to humanity… despite its push to make us do… less than tasteful things.” He grinned softly over at the audience that had gathered, shaking with a silent laugh and causing some of them to chuckle quietly at his gentle jest. Then he turned back to the two Belle yelled at. “May God forgive your small indiscretion in favor of your love… Go on,” he encouraged, gestured out the door, still smiling. The frightened couple seemed to almost trip over themselves as they hurried outside. 

JP then looked towards Belle. “Sister… may I have a word outside?” He asked, still smiling.

Her brother—there was no surprise that he would be the one to suss out the conflict, offering some sort of good cop/bad cop dynamic with her scolding remarks. Belle enjoyed charm every now and then, when it impressed the right people and when it could get her what she wanted—but fear was a much more powerful agent to her, intimidating people into doing her bidding or trembling in her wake. Still, her outburst now had been to cover up the stumble in her behavior, to make sure no one saw the crack in her armor that that unnerving note and the looming statue had caused—and from the looks on their faces, it was effective.

As the couple scurried away, Belle sent them one last angry glare. “Don’t forget that you’ll be judged for your sins one day!” She called after them, though she tried to keep her voice down the slightest bit. There were already enough people staring, and while she enjoyed giving a good scene to the public, a princess yelling after two people nearly running away from her might be a little too far, even compared to her usual antics. 

Turning back to JP, Belle raised her eyebrows slightly. “Outside? You might give those poor sods a heart attack if they see me coming after them,” She lowered her voice slightly, unsure of what he was hinting at. “What do you want to discuss, brother? I believe the exit on your left leads to some more quiet street if it’s something important.”

Sam liked wild girls. But people interpreted that word differently. For some (Sam included) wild was throwing your fists up at stuff you couldn’t change with words, getting your hands dirty, direct action and laughing in the face of anyone who told you one person couldn’t change the world alone, baring your teeth and being unabashedly odd, feeling justified in your protests even if other people tried to talk you down. For others (including the chick Sam had been set up with on a lunch date today) wild meant doing stuff that’d get you in trouble, just for the thrill. Wild, maybe. But empty too.

Regardless, Sam was not going to say no to making out with someone in the shadows of a church. Admittedly things might have gotten a little bit out of hand because they could their shirt hanging off of one shoulder, the cool air against their chest, and her hand was still toying with buttons, tugging them closer and– Footsteps. Sam, who was more interested in making out than getting caught tried to keep them both concealed, but she feigned a stumble and dragged them both back into the light, right into the path of Belle Delacroix. At least Sam looked hot with their hair all messed up.

“Calm down princess.” They huffed, buttoning back up and tucking their shirt in, “ we were like, so moved my the lords spirit that we had to hold each-other, or whatever.” Their date was giggling and pretending to be embarrassed, and they were over it. “Well Amy it’s been swell, but you should really let me handle the riled up royalty.” Sam nodded and smiled while Amy kissed her cheek and promised to call before sauntering out the building. “Yeah, she’s not gonna call.” 

Not being religious, there was no reason Belle was supposed to act indignant or scandalized by seeing someone get it on inside a church—but she had been startled, nearly even falling over due to losing her balance, and she would do damn near anything to keep someone from seeing her stumble even the slightest bit. So, for this moment, she had to act like a true believer, and quickly change the subject after before she was called out on her lack of knowledge about the subject. She tensed her jaw the slightest bit at the pair coming out of the shadows, lips pursed and eyes set in a disapproving glance—with a just the smallest hint of that royal superiority she was so incredibly well known for. 

“I bet you prayed so hard it made your shirt fall off,” She replied, eyeing Sam, their shirt hastily buttoned and still hanging awfully low on one shoulder. Her eyes moved to the girl by their side, narrowing at the sight of her—face flushed red in embarrassment and giggles that could make even the most patient person run away in horror. “I really think it's you who needs the handling, Benson—especially if you enjoy desecrating Holy places like this.” It was a bit of a reach, but it seemed like one of them at least had the good sense to get out of there looking the slightest bit flustered. They should be glad it was Belle who had caught them, not that grumpy old priest who never seemed to leave this damn church. 

Her head tilted slightly at Sam stating that the girl wouldn’t be calling, eyebrows raised in curiosity, but mostly just because she could sense an opening for subject change there. “Are you such a bad kisser, Benson?” She shook her head, quite obviously feigning the disappointment. “Poor Amy probably couldn’t get away fast enough, I guess.” 

Nikita had already prepared her dress and mask. She always loved masquerades and the excitement that came along with them. A big part of what made them so fun was getting ready with Belle. From the moment she stepped foot in the Delacroix castle, the two had clicked. Maybe it was the fact that they were close in age, or both looking for someone to connect with in their politically charged world? Either way, the girls kept on finding each other and acquaintances turned fast friends. Nikita’s father had been rather pleased with the fostered friendship since it opened a door to the King’s good graces. For Nikita, it helped fill the void that Zara left when she ran away with their mother to Omerta. 

The path to Belle’s room was a familiar trek. Nikita had done it hundreds of times. She already had her silver gown on, hair curled and red lipstick on. Glamour had become a big part of her life, now that the Reenas were a well-known name in court. Granted, it was all a false identity put on by Suraj, her father, after the Keigan fiasco. Still, no one knew the truth which meant that the Reenas were able to continue their meteoric rise in Athos. Shooting a couple smiles and hellos to the guards that she passed, Nikita finally reached Belle’s bedroom. She gently opened the door, sticking her head in.

There was no denying that the pair of girls were graced with beauty. How many men had fallen at their feet in a daze? Where Belle’s aura was all ice, the kind of attractiveness that made people tremble with fear, Nikita shone like the sun. Warm, inviting, kind but unattainable.  They really were a devasting sight to see. “I say yes, you’ll look much more mysterious that way.” She said with a smile. Stepping inside, Nikita caught sight of Belle’s gown. The girl looked wonderful in green and the dress itself was magnificent. “So… it’ s a masquerade, no one is going to know who we are.” Nikita grinned as she smoothed her gown. “Who do we want to be tonight?” This night was one of the rare instances where identities were concealed. Not to mention, it was thrown in honor of the saints. Some of the underworlders could prove to be interesting.

From the moment they’d first been introduced, Belle had liked Nikita. That had been a rare thing by itself, considering with anyone else, it took at least a month or two for her to defrost—but with her best friend, it had been instant. Her presence had always been warm, and her friendship had always been something she could never see herself without. Even now, as Nikita stepped into her chambers in that beautiful silver dress, she was smiling instantly. Whilst Belle considered herself above most people—hell, pretty much anyone who wasn’t family, Nikita was her equal, the light to her dark. Now especially, the pair of them standing together, one in emerald, one in diamond, they resonated perfectly.

“I do love a hint of mystery,” Belle replied, working to place the fascinator in her difficultly styled hair. There was never anything simple about the way she looked—rarely ever even a hair out of place, being ever the perfectionist—and tonight was no exception to that rule. Effortless beauty was something she liked, but being royalty made her feel like something more constructed was always a better fit. “I also have a silver one, if you’d like to match?” She raised her eyebrows playfully at Nikita after securing the clip into her own hair, picking up the second one laying on her vanity and holding it in front of her best friend.

Gently placing it into the other girls’ hands, she turned back to the mirror to secure the pins in her hair a little tighter, now that they were carrying some more weight. “A masquerade? I swear—every year around the same time we throw ours, some new masquerade-themed party shows up practically daily,” While her voice had a hint of annoyance added to it, she wasn’t necessarily upset about the theme. Belle enjoyed masquerades, the thrill of meeting strangers who didn’t know who she was for once—but more especially, seeing that she could still command a room without her royal status to back her up. “Something simple, please—if I have a little too much in my system, I’ll start to slip up and yell if some stranger doesn’t refer to me by the proper title.” A chuckle left her lips, making it sound jokingly, but it was definitely not something that hadn’t happened before.

A CONCERNED TEXT:

are you okay??

you’re not some kind of beast, hunter

please call me, i’m worried

A CONFESSION VIA TEXT:

i know this is weird as fuck but

you looked really hot with all that blood on your face

A TEXT THAT WASN’T SENT:

i owe you an apology. i planned that attack in the alley. i just wanted to see what you could do. if i could get you to do more. 

i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt you like that

i get it if you want to hate me forever now, but can you talk to me, please? even if you just want to yell at me

i miss you

A LATE NIGHT TEXT: