Ariel met Belle at home, but not in the seaside palace. She and Eric had opted to move to the summer palazzo calabrese for the time around this full moon. This estate nestled deeper in the mountains, above the olive groves and alpine springs, and could in its isolation hide their terrible secret.
Only a handful of the most trusted guards and servants were invited to the occasion. Fewer were told why, for the royal family's privacy. It settled an eerie quiet in the sunny manor that only broke when their much-needed expert arrived.
"Thank you so much for coming," she told Belle at the threshold, only remembering after the footmen handled baggage to extend her hand to shake. That was the formal gesture for humans in this type of circumstance, but for the pit in her stomach, Ariel would have preferred embracing.
"My husband will be this way. I mean--when..." Ariel led Belle inside the manor, wincing. "It's downstairs."
Despite having been here for days, Ariel had chosen traveling leathers and breeches this morning. Her hair that Eric had tied up for her now clung to the sweat on the back of her neck, and a few strands of straw dusted around the ends.
In the cellar, a few torches clustered around the hallway to a door retrofitted with iron trusses. It held wine once. Ariel grabbed the handle with both hands, steeling herself, and hauling it open, bracing the door against the heavy wheelbarrow she'd been using all day.
Within the cold stone walls sat a nest of straw lined with every old blanket Ariel scrounged in the span of her stay. But at least to her, this accommodation did little to soften the iron chains bolted to the walls.
She stood back at the handiwork that she had to call finished, hugging herself through the slightest quiver in her voice. "Do you think this will be enough?"
@bcckishrose