Oh my...
I had to will myself out of bed this morning, with the heaviest of heads I have experienced in my young life.
Allow me to try and recount the dinner conversation to the best of my ability...
The night could be divided into two, distinct parts.
The first part of the night began after I finished penning my last entry.
...
As I exited the bedroom, I realised I had no idea exactly in which room I was expected to attend dinner.
I walked down the hall, as it was the only direction to take. When I arrived at the fork, I looked left first and saw no signs of life. I turned right and again, nothing. Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly saw a light flicker and turned left once again — the entirety of the hall was completely illuminated now by lanterns.
Like a guiding light, they weaved around the halls and straight to a parlour, just near the double-locked-door from which I heard the chains the other day.
I was pensive about entering, as I knew he would be in there. But I remembered my plan, readied myself and stormed right in.
In addition to the slap, I was also prepared to refuse to the food, until I smelt it, that was.
The scent rendered me immobile. The overwhelming, fragrant smell of chicken went directly up my nose and embarrassingly, caused me to have a most saliva-filled response. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
"Belle, so glad you could be here."
His words cut through me like a warm knife in butter. My eyes opened and snapped to the direction of his voice, coming from the shadows over in the corner. He stepped into view.
Geroux was a very tall man with golden, blonde hair down to his shoulders. He had a chest that rivalled Pierre's, dark, haunted eyes and the most beautiful, imperfection-free skin I had ever seen. Not a scar, not even a wrinkle.
I would never describe a man as beautiful, but Geroux was simply breathtaking, disarmingly so. How unfortunate that a man with his proclivities should inhabit such a sublime body.
I realised I was simply staring at him. I swallowed hard (too much saliva from the chicken aroma) and flicked my eyes around the room, only seeing the food for the first time at that moment.
There was a roast chicken, roast potatoes, a medley of vegetables and sauces. Tears welled in my eyes, it had been so long since I had eaten real food. Sharpened steel, ivory handled cutlery.
The room was absolutely stunning, just like the other large rooms in this house, but I would be lying if I could remember specific details - as I was completely hypnotised by the poultry in front of me.
He walked around the table and pulled my seat out for me. I dutifully sat down and he gently pushed the chair toward the table.
He smelt odd, like a strong, manly smell mixed with something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Any chance of me slapping his face had vanished. For heaven's sake I already had a fork in one hand a knife in the other, ready to attack the food like a hunter with prey in its sights.
I was so focused on the food in front of me, I had momentarily forgotten about Geroux.
"Shall we?" he asked, insinuating it was appropriate to begin eating.
All pretence of ladylike behaviour went straight out the window as I ate the chicken with the gusto of a pig at a trough.
"I'm so glad you're enjoying the dinner," said Geroux, with an undeniable hint of glee to his demeanour. Only at this point, did I realise, that he was staring at me, smiling, the entire time I was eating.
The hunger overpowered my need to correct him right there on the spot. I felt I would be better off to do so on a full stomach, so I ate until I had my fill. But before I remind that I am here under duress, I had a question.
"How did you do that?"
"I'm afraid I do no know what you are referring to?"
"The lanterns. They were not lit and suddenly they were all alight."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
How frustrating, I thought, to have the courage to actually attend this charade of a dinner and only be met with non-answers. I placed my fork and knife on my plate in such a way to indicate displeasure.
"Why am I here?" I was very clear and firm with my question.
Geroux did not answer. He simply stayed silent and just stared at his plate.
"If you refuse to answer my questions, I shall excuse myself."
I stood up and went to leave. I do not know where that gumption came from.
"No, please stay. Ask another question. Any other question but that one."
Despite his words, he was quite firm with how he spoke. He seemed to become somewhat emotional and I did not quite feel that pushing this subject would get me any further. So I played along.
"Where are we?"
"We are in the the Provence countryside, deep within the Saint-Baume forest."
I do believe I know where we are, but unfortunately I have never been to this part of Marseilles. I wonder if Papa or Pierre have been here before and know the area? I suppose not, for if they did know this area they surely would have happened upon this castle and asked the proprietor if he knew of my whereabouts.
Not that it would do any good. Clearly, Geroux cannot give a straight answer.
"Earlier tonight, you mentioned that to leave was not safe. How so?"
"There are animals out there," he said, looking at his plate.
The words shot out of my mouth like a bullet, "There's a animal in here too."
He dropped his cutlery as his hands gripped the tablecloth with a manic intensity. The veins in his hands bulged out. I had angered him.
"I should warn you, my father and my husband are out looking for me right now."
A good little white-lie, or so I thought.
His eyes flicked up, not to meet my face, but rather, to my hands. His grip loosened on the tablecloth.
"Husband? I do not see a ring."
He saw through my lie, but at least he was calmer.
"Pierre is my betrothed and every bit as good as a husband," I proclaimed, indignantly.
"I'm sure he is," he said with a wry smile.
It was strange, I did not think the night would unfold as it did. Making conversation as if we were two people meeting for the first time, not abductor and abductee.
Then I saw the unimaginable. A ring on his finger.
"Are you married?" I asked, pointing at the ring.
"That's enough questions for tonight."
He quietly withdrew his hand from the table.
"You said I could ask you as many questions as I wished."
He must have seen the look of disappointment on my face.
"You may ask your last question."
I was ill prepared, yet eager for answers, my head swirled with questions. Why am I here? What do you want from me? Who was that screaming the other night? But instead, I saw something that caught my eye and asked, "What did you bring them in here for?"
I pointed across the table to the candelabra, the clock on the mantlepiece and the teapot and teacup off to the side.
"They were invited."
I really needed no further confirmation that he liked to play games.
"That does not answer my question."
Geroux chuckled to himself and said, "Why don't you ask them yourself?"
Oh dear lord, he is insane.
"I beg your pardon?" I asked.
Without speaking, Geroux stood up from his seat. He took the ivory handled knife and made a small cut in his hand. He held the wound over his glass and squeezed one droplet of blood into the wine.
This man was a complete lunatic.
"I think its time for me to leave..." I pushed my hair out and began to get up from the table when he spoke.
"Would you like to see what I see, Belle? Just a glimpse..."
"What do you mean? I do not understand." At this point I was believing this could really be the end.
He walked over to my chair.
"Bear with me and do not be afraid," he said, holding out his glass of wine.
"Why would I want to drink that?" I said.
"One drop of blood will bring you no harm. You have to trust me, Belle."
Trust him. I wonder if he hears himself when he speaks...
He gestured to the ornaments, "They want to welcome you."
I was not keen to share a glass with this madman, let alone his blood.
"Drink up," said Geroux, holding the cup up to my lips.
What choice did I have? Besides, as he said, it was only one drop of blood.
I swallowed a small mouthful of his wine-blood concoction.
And this is where the night really took quite the turn.
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