❝ 𝔊𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔙𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔱𝔶 𝔓𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔰 ❞
⚜
Belle tugged fretfully at the low slung rose fabric clinging to her hips. It was really much too revealing, she thought nibbling her lower
lip self-consciously. In reply a hot breeze rippled through the open walk
way, reminding her that without such light clothing she'd be burning up.
The doe lifted a slim hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the
sun which bathed the ivory columns in white light. It was beautiful here,
in its own way, though the tropical isle lacked the cold beauty of her
mountainous home. Home. She never would have guessed she'd
be homesick. Yet, standing in the middle of the rich, royal, tropical
paradise she found herself in, Belle missed the snow and forest.
"Lady Belle, representative of the Lost Licorne race," a droll
voice announced. Guards lined the walls, and a little further down
the open corridor a gaggle of diplomats stood at attention as she
was introduced, formally, to the delegates of the council of Dela
Mare. The king was away, ferried across the seas with his navy
making the Dela Mare presence felt in other lands. She'd
arrived by sea, like anyone else who wished to be in this tropic
island kingdom. But Belle had not wished to be here. She was
simply taken. Politely, of course. But the quick-witted doe
knew that her 'visit' was mandatory. A beautiful, warm weather
cage, as delicate as the Delemarian silk that fell around her wide
round hips. She could feel their eyes on her. The sound of her
small hooves on the marble was foreign, drawing attention to
her. Nearly every other being in the room was some sort of
feline. Their paws were padded and noiseless. Belle's hooves
made small, sharp feminine sounds, announcing her otherness.
As if she could forget. Any awkwardness she felt was intensified
by the fact that every single person in attendance was male. It
struck Belle as incredibly odd when she first came to the place.
Apparently, politics and matters of the kingdom were not 'for
women' in this land. When she asked why, she was merely told
"females find these matters boring and prefer fashion and family
affairs to politics." She replied quietly, "In my homeland females
excelled at politics." To which her tall feline escort smiled wanly
at her and murmured, "Ah, yes, your race was a matriarchy was
it not? Not that it matters now..." Belle clicked her teeth together
tightly and refused to speak for the rest of that afternoon.
"Our most honored guest, the princess, wished to speak with
us about a matter that those gathered here might find...amusing."
Belle steeled herself, folding her hands in front of her and trying
to fight the natural timidity she felt in front of so many judging
eyes. The sun filtered through the columns and bathed the doe
in a warm, radiant light, gleaming off the smooth crown and veil
which fluttered like a butterfly wing against her honey hair. She
stood out in every way from the gathered audience of slick grey
blue, black, and tawny felines with steely eyes. Standing at a
paltry five feet, there was nothing intimidating about the girl
their king had ordered brought to Dela Mare and "protected"
from violent dragonkind who desperately sought the doe to
finish their task of eliminating the last living Licorne in the
brutal vendetta that had destroyed Belle's world. It was all
"for her protection" of course that she'd been taken.
The purple-eyed hartlicorne took an edifying breath.
"I am here today to speak on behalf of the females
of your beautiful land who, in fact, do wish to be
included in the politics of this land, their land as much
as yours..."
She spoke artfully. Articulating her points with careful precision
rebutting possible objections, and providing many excellent
examples of the benefits of female leadership. Belle's voice
was small, yet measured. Quiet, yet the honeyed quality and
shyness lured everyone into a dead silence, to better listen.
And when she was done, there was a long quiet. Then...
"See, I've told you all that the princess is not only incredibly
beautiful, but also so well-spoken. She truly is a treasure from
the western lands!" one clap turned into a dozen clapping
hands. A few of the council members stood and smiled at her.
Belle's fingers twisted violently in the pink silk she'd gathered
into her palm. "So lovely!" someone murmured. "So,
charming. Excellent breeding!" The doe froze, like the true
other half of her heritage. Every clap was a sharp slap to her
pride. Every indulgent smile mocked her intelligence, but also
her people, their customs which Belle now feared died with
them. There was so little of her people's traditions left and
as the last of her kind, the blonde thought she could share
part of the Licornes' spirit, honor and wisdom. More gentle
smiles and admiring eyes left her feeling empty. The princess
turned and left on the same small clicking hooves that the
felines thought where "very charming indeed." As soon as
no one could see her do it, she broke into a run. She ran
for the rose gardens, the only thing that brought her solace
and reminded her of home in this place. She'd failed. Her
first attempt at doing something, at trying to change
something, utterly failed. She ran and ran, the feeling of
wind on her soft flanks like a sigh of freedom. The scent
of roses calmed her into a walk. Belle's nose twitched.
She smelled something coppery. The sight of blood and the
pain of it hit her simultaneously. A thornbush had drawn
blood on her ankle. The princess took some grim satisfaction
in it. As if it served her right for her failure and foolishness.
"Princess, you're injured," a smooth voice said from
behind her. Belle twirled, hair whipping around her as she
came face to face with a smartly dressed male, tall with a
regal bearing. She did not recognize him as one of the crown
princes of Dela Mare. Which accounted for the shortness of
her tone. "I'm really quite fine, thank you." He lifted
a dark brow and seemed to be trying not to smile. "You
are," he agreed amiably, and lifted his hand to the sitting
stone nearby. "I am versed in some small healing arts. If
you would take a seat and allow me, princess?" Belle did
not want to. She opened her mouth to deny him, then closed
it again. It would only be petulant and childish to refuse. And
no doubt if she did refuse him, it would only be the healer who
received punishment for it. Belle sat down, and as the bluish
steel furred male came to kneel before her, she almost gasped
at how tall he was. The blonde was always removed, set apart,
guarded, alone. A treasure in a glass box. It was rare when any
except a female maidservant touched her, or even came near.
So when a male came so close, it was still strange and filled her
with prey-like shyness. His dangerously clawed hands were
gentle as he assessed the wound. "It's shallow, but allow
me-" he did not wait for her reply, but rather ran his thumb
over her calf and ankle, leaning in close enough to kiss the small
scrape. Belle's cheeks heated at the strange intimacy of it, but
the prince pulled back before he could make the delicate doe
any shyer. Her prey scent alone was enough to make his kind
...distracted. He didn't need to frighten her further. He released
her and when she looked down into his intense blue eyes, she
realized this was no mere servant who attended her.
"Prince Amon..." she said, amethyst eyes wide with alarm.
"I am," he said and this time did smile.
"And I was very interested in hearing more of your ideas," and
when the beauty looked at him suspiciously, he put his hand over his
heart and laughed, "Truly, I do."
Belle bit her lip and thought, why is it a man becomes more handsome
when they say things like that?
⚜
Art by: Pacevanrign :: Writing by: Belletrist
COMMENTS HELP ENCOURAGE ME TO WRITE I READ EVERY SINGLE ONE ♡
IMITATION IS -NOT- A FORM OF FLATTERY. PLEASE DO NOT IMITATE ME.
✧ YOU MAY NOT USE BELLE OR ANY ART FOR RP. DO NOT REUPLOAD. ✧
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 750 x 814px
What an awful bunch of bullies. I'll wager she has more courage than the whole lot of them. Except, perhaps, the handsome prince, provided his interest in listening to her really is genuine. Regardless, she should be proud of herself for making the effort at all, and remember that change seldom comes easily. If her new friend means what he says, and if she can find it within herself to go back and face the rest, I think she has a real chance to do some good in the world, and to make the memory of her people live again, at least in some small way.
The art is gorgeous and I quite like her outfit, even if it very much on the skimpy side. It makes me wonder if her hosts are using the hot weather as a pretext to embarrass her further. But the pink cloth is really pretty with her fawn colored fur, and the crown and golden fleur de lis are very elegant I think.
The art is gorgeous and I quite like her outfit, even if it very much on the skimpy side. It makes me wonder if her hosts are using the hot weather as a pretext to embarrass her further. But the pink cloth is really pretty with her fawn colored fur, and the crown and golden fleur de lis are very elegant I think.
Oh. My. God. This was absolutely precious, it just made me want to
hug Belle and kiss all her booboos. Poor little thing means SO well,
but it's just so hard to be taken seriously when you're a walking
talking bundle of feminine beauty. I really like how you captured
the vulnerability of the art within another aspect of the story, bringing
it back full circle. Now I just wish I'd given her more of a frustrated
little blush, but I like how girlish and worried she is, and for such
good reason.
I love your writing Belle. And the foreign prince is a hottie ;)
hug Belle and kiss all her booboos. Poor little thing means SO well,
but it's just so hard to be taken seriously when you're a walking
talking bundle of feminine beauty. I really like how you captured
the vulnerability of the art within another aspect of the story, bringing
it back full circle. Now I just wish I'd given her more of a frustrated
little blush, but I like how girlish and worried she is, and for such
good reason.
I love your writing Belle. And the foreign prince is a hottie ;)
I love to learn about the worlds you weave 💜 The romantic aspects to your work is tantalizing, for sure. But what grips me most is always the faraway places you take us to. Each trip leaves me wanting to know more.
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