Her body was jolting and hitting against sothing firm and moving, she could hear the faint creaking noise of old wheels and slled the strong stench of hay and horse. She groaned, wanting to open her eyes but her lids were just too heavy to be lifted. Her head was pounding so hard, and the jolting made it all the more worse.
Belle felt her head hit against sothing hard when she jolted again, the hit this ti was so hard she moaned and forced her lids open. For a mont, it was like her mories were empty, she couldn’t think nor rember anything. To her horror, even her na seed to be lost to her.
Everything was dark and slightly blurry as she opened her heavy eyes. She laid there on sothing faintly damp and waited, breathing roughly, for so mont for her vision to adjust to her surroundings and for her mories to serve her right on why and how she got here.
Her limbs were weak and felt detached, her tongue numb and heavy in her mouth and it still held the strong taste of the acidic thing she faintly rembered breathing into her lungs before she fell unconscious.
From a far distance of her mind or her surroundings, she could hear sounds of birds and the howling wind. Where was she? She wondered, turning her head as her vision slowly began to adjust to the gloom and her foggy head began to clear to make her mories return in little flashes.
The last thing she recalled, she was getting dressed in her chamber, excited about sothing... what was it? She asked herself, and as if her brain had heard the question, it answered her with a flood of mories. She was walking to go and et him in the art chamber when suddenly...!
She gasped. She had been abducted right inside the castle! With that realization ca a strong, paralyzing fear of her predicant. She had been abducted! Terror gripped her so hard she shivered slightly.
The urge to know where she was and who had the audacity to enter the castle and abduct her made her attempt to sit, but that action was impossible with the swaying vehicle and the pounding in her head. She was in a moving wagon, she took note, with a sinking feeling that made her chest tighten into a dreadful knot.
She was lying on a pile of hay, and the sealed wagon door near her feet creaked and cracked every ti the vehicle jolted forward. The space around her was moderate—not too tight, but not exactly comfortable either. It looked like the kind of wagon used to transport young horses from one land to another.
She recognized it well enough; every year in Aragonia, her father received a new horse, and she had seen similar wagons arrive at their estate.
But this ti, a human was being carried in it. Her.
This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be here.
With so much difficulty that made her limbs shake like the quivering bones of a newborn learning to walk, she pushed herself into a sitting position, the jolting ride and the sll of hay making her feel nauseous and sick.
She was breathing hard from such small movent, she felt like laying down and sleeping off the drugs that must have been pressed to her nose. However, sleeping was the last option, knowing she was most likely in danger.
She supported herself with her hand, her blonde, sweat-drenched hair sticking uncomfortably to her face and neck.
The space was stuffy, but from the faint light slipping through the gaps in the wagon’s wooden walls, she could tell it was twilight and evening was approaching.
Sothing told her she had not been taken for that long and it was still the sa day, only it was wearing off. And if she did not do sothing, she might really fall back asleep and wake up in another nightmare. She’d heard of worse scenarios, of girls being taken and sold off, and by the ti they even realized what was wrong, it was already too late to go back to their lives again.
If the person who had abducted her had not yet killed her or kept her away in so place for ransom, the person most likely had taken her to sell her off sowhere. It was as bad as being killed to be sold. Who would do that? She thought, and realized she was wasting ti on thought instead of taking actions to return to her husband and house.
Managing to sit up straight, Belle’s head swayed slightly as she tried to look towards the wall of the wagon that separated her from the coachman—her abductor. The person probably believed the drug was strong enough to keep her unconscious because they had not bothered to tie her limbs.
She looked towards the tightly sealed door and decided she had to try to open it. She would jump out of it if she had to and scream for help. Only she wished that the lack of noise of people didn’t indicate that they had traveled far from civilization—or else she would be dood.
But then, she had to try. She could stay hidden and wait for another ride to cry for help. She wished her head would stop spinning and that her limbs would obey her brain’s command and stop quivering.
Crawling on her hands and knees, swaying and jolting with the vehicle, Belle reached the door. She was too delirious to feel fear for what she wanted to do. She could not even think straight from all the spinning in her head. She had never been drunk, but it felt like it...
With trembling, unstable hands, Belle pounded desperately at the door. It rattled each ti the wagon jolted, masking the sound of her struggle and making the person at the coach seat believe it was just the creaking of the rough ride.
From how the door quivered and banged against the fra, it was clear it hadn’t been properly locked. Summoning every ounce of her fading strength, Belle staggered back, braced herself, and ramd her shoulder against the door with a cry of effort.
To her joyous, disbelieving relief, the latch gave way with a loud crack, and the door burst open. She tumbled out wildly, hitting the open air with a gasp before slamming onto the muddy, rain-soaked ground.
She rolled, over and over, dirt and wet grass saring across her skin and dress, until her body finally ca to a stop, sprawled and aching in the thick, damp earth. She was stunned to find she hadn’t fallen unconscious again, though every inch of her scread in pain.
A soft, broken sound escaped her cracked lips as she lay there, her chest heaving, her limbs shaking, and the weight of shock pressing down hard on her lungs.
She looked up at the grey sky where light flashes of lightning could be seen, trying to regain the strength to stand. But before that strength even found her, she heard the wheels of the wagon co to a sudden stop, as if her fall had been heard by whoever was riding it.
Belle’s entire body went rigid in panic and fear. She did not believe she could stand again after such a fall, but she surprised herself when she got up to her feet. Ignoring the trembling limbs, she began to run with all her might, her breathing coming in harsh, shallow gasps.
Trees—they were all around at the sides of the road. There was no civilization or any sight of town nor another carriage coming by. And to her absolute terror, she could hear the clapping sounds of shoes—of another person chasing her. Her abductor was after her!
Her heart was pounding so hard and loud, she did not hear that the person was talking behind her as he chased. All she could think about was to run to safety and away from the person.
The muddy road stretched out endlessly in front of her, and Belle was not discouraged from running.
She did not know if Rohan, or anyone else, had realized she was missing yet, but deep down, she knew that relying on soone to find her in ti was a dangerous gamble. Waiting would only an getting caught again, and that was sothing she could not afford when she feared being sold.
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