Ten years had passed since the death of her parents but Belle woke up each day missing them. As a child she had filled her room with drawings of her parents, “so I don’t forget what they look like,” she had explained to Frollo. As she got older, however, she learned to sketch and was able to replicate a photograph she could remember from their house, of her parents on their wedding day. She had hung it on the opposite wall from her bed so that whenever she woke up she could see them smiling down at her and it always made her feel better.
Frollo had still maintained the role of her guardianship,...
Belle French looked around the large office room she had been brought to and gulped. This was her first time in a proper high school. She had spent most of her life in a provincial little town where the majority of her neighbours had been too poor to go to school. However, after a chance run-in with Maleficent, the Deputy Head of Disney High, her father had been able to waggle a scholarship for her. Now she was here none of it seemed real.
“Ah!” Ratcliffe, the headmaster of Disney High, walked into the room. “Belle French, isn’t it?”