The Other Belle Read Online Whitney G

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
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“The Fifth Kingdom.” She frowns. “They sent out a request for all eligible maidens. They said that only the women worthy of wearing a crown would be invited to stay, so I got my hopes up, you know? I know everything about being a princess. Everything.”

I raise my eyebrow.

“When I made it there, everything was exactly like it was when you and I went two years ago,” she says. “The queen hosted a lavish party in the ballroom, a feast fit for a king, and a long bath afterward in a heated spring.”

“Then, what?”

“She sent us all to bed in beautiful rooms that overlooked the realm…” Her voice trails off for several seconds. “In the morning, she asked how I slept, and I told her it was like sleeping on a cloud. It was even more amazing than the last time.”

I wince at the memory of the ‘last time’. From what I remember, my entire night there was spent tossing and turning in agony. I felt like there was a rock lodged directly under my spine, and the pain was far worse than any of my basement nights.

I never said anything about it to the queen, of course. I didn’t want to risk a beating from my father.

“Was there any girl who said something different?” I ask. “Someone who didn’t sleep well?”

“As if any commoner would tell a queen that her beds are subpar.” Izzie scoffs. “The prince was dreamy, though. Such a shame I won’t have him for myself…”

“Maybe you’ll land someone just as good during suitor season.”

“Don’t remind me.” She groans, pulling the cloth away from my skin. “You should get some fresh air while Father is away.”

“He told me that I have to clean.”

“He’s not returning from his trip for a while, so you can start cleaning this evening.” She looks genuine. “Even if you only sit on the front steps, you need to let the sun kiss your skin. You’re very pale.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll run to the market for a book after I bathe. Want anything back?”

“Only if Mr. Lorimer has a new love story for me,” she says. “Don’t bring anything by that Shakespeare guy ever again. He can’t write a real romance to save his life.”

“Noted.” I laugh and grab a bar of jasmine.

Sensing that my legs are weak, Izzie grabs my hand and leads me to the tub.

“I’ll clean you up and help you dress,” she says. “And you can wear one of my scarves around your mouth so no one will see the scars.”

“Thank you, Izzie.”

“You’re very welcome.”

For a moment, I’m not upset with her for ignoring my existence over the past several months.

“You know what I’ve been thinking this entire time you’ve been on punishment?” she asks. “Your life would be so much better if you simply accepted that women have a place in this world. If you learned how to stay in yours, you would get the chance to truly live, you know?”

And she fucks it up just that quickly…

I remain silent as she thoroughly washes my hair and pulls it into two long French braids that fall down my back. When she’s finished, she helps me out of the tub and dresses me in one of her older beige dresses.

“Last thing,” she says, wrapping a matching cloth around my cheeks. “There. Now, no one will know anything.”

“Thanks, Izzie.”

“You’re welcome.” She walks over to the door and opens it. “Be back by sunfall.”

My heart is beating an uneven rhythm of grief and hope during my dash to the town’s bookstore. There’s a certain someone I’ve missed more than anything these past seven months, and I’m hoping that I haven’t been forgotten.

Please still be there, please still be there…

“Hey there, Belle!” Mr. Lorimer pushes a pair of spectacles up his nose once I walk through the door. “Here to pick up new books for your sister?”

“Always,” I say. “She wants your latest romance.”

“I figured she might.” He smiles. “Stay put while I retrieve it from the back. I have to make sure the proper pages are set aside, you know.”

“Of course.” I wait for him to disappear and walk over to the case where the other novels stand. I pick up a copy of Ulysses and flip toward the end of the book, scanning the margins for a note.

The handwriting inside belongs to the man I’ve missed—my only friend who reads as voraciously as I do—and his latest words are staring at me in smooth, black ink.

I haven’t heard from you in months… Is your father punishing you again? I finished the second part of this story and hated it, so find me in Macbeth.

—Your only friend

I drop it and pick up Macbeth.

The queen in this one is truly evil. I think I might like this more than any of the other books we’ve read together…Find me on page 83.



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