My Name Isn't Belle

Prologue

Many say that one's fate is decided long before they are born. That their destiny has been set in stone for centuries. Their lives are just a story that has already been written, and the reader is God.

No, I don't believe in such rubbish. I slammed the book shut and shoved it back into the shelf. Philosophers are so stupid sometimes, tricking people into not worrying over life and death because God has a plan for us all!

"Alana, if you shove one more book into my shelves so help me I'll-"

"I would not slam them if the author was either right or accurate. Half of these people aren't even precise in their data, and precision is key in every scientific investigation." Father looked at me with sad eyes, his face beginning to wrinkle and become more and more grey.

"Darling, I am becoming old. At least allow me peace in my own library." He sighed and rubbed his forehead as he sat at his desk, the old leather chair groaning at his weight.

"I know Papa, I just like to believe that you'll always be as young as you were when I was a child." I looked to the ground as I walked to him, my sorrow easily affecting him. "Darling, don't become cross with me when I say this, but I wish to live long enough to see my grandchildren running up and down the halls, yet all you do is sit in my library and read."

I scowled and turned away in a flurry of skirts. "I will not marry any man. I refuse. I want to explore and be free to do as I please, not to lead a household. I don't want to write invitations to dinner parties, colour coat my entire manor, and gossip with other ladies over tea. I want to... to-"

"You want to take over my company, yes?" I sighed again, the red carpet beneath my feet becoming a sudden interest.

"Alana, I love you, truely I do, but you can't just expect the whole population of male workers to just accept a woman as their leader and business owner." My aggravation got the better of me as I groaned and turned for the door.

"But," A smile grew on my face as I turned to him. "If it would make you happy, I'll allow you the liberty to travel and do business with me in France next week."

My smile turned into a grin and I ran up to his desk to hug him. "However, we can do business together in private, no negotiating with other business men."

My grin never faded as I nodded eagerly, a sudden wave of happiness coming over me. "Of course Papa, your rules or no rules."

His face slightly brightened when he saw me happy, it always seemed to be his goal in life. "Good. It's about time you explored outside of the country. It will be a good change of pace from this dusty old library.

Though dusty might have been an exaggeration, old was not. Shelves lined the left and right walls from the floor to the ceiling, their dark wood making the bright book covers pop. Some of the books have been there for nearly a century, a few even more than that.

Most however, were fairly new. Recent ideas and theories lined most of the shelves and others filled with scientific studies. Then there were the few mathematics books mixed in with philosopher's life works.

Yes, old but not dusty.

I walked out of the library sensing that I was no longer needed in the same general vicinity as my Father.

The hallway.

How I hated it.

The yellow wallpaper always seemed to mock me and torment my brain. Then the pink and white flowers looked as though they would move from the corner of my eyes, yet when I turned my head they would still be in the same position as they originally were.

Maybe it was just the yellow of the wallpaper, or the insanity yellow represented.

I remember reading once about what each colour meant. Red can be love, passion, or anger while white is puriy and innocence. All of them seemed to have such sweet white meanings until yellow. Insanity.

After reading about it I became slightly paranoid, unsure of its meaning. Ever since then I refused to wear yellow, or own anything in the dreaded colour.

Father once said that every single person was a personification of a colour. "Mama was yellow," he said with his eyes looking out in the distant fields from his office wind. "She was always so happy and bright."

But yellow didn't mean happiness.

"What colour am I, Papa?" He was happier then, smiling almost all the time with a lively gleam in his eye. "If I told you now then you might change yourself to be exactly like that colour; or you'd do the opposite and try to be another colour."

As a child I would pout and flop myself onto the floor with my arms crossed over my chest. He'd chuckle and shake his head before kneeling down and making everything better, like he always did.

"I'll tell you when your older."

That one phrase was always stuck in my head. How much older? Am I close? Does he even remember that day?

~~A Few Days Later~~

The harbor was packed with people boarding and exiting ships and merchants from foreign lands going to and fro in order to sell their goods.

I stood with Father as one of our few sevants grabbed our luggage and sat it beside us. "Are you sure you don't want me to carry it aboard your ship, Sir?"

Father shook his head and handed him some money, enough to keep the home supplied with food in the case of an emergency. "No Bingley, that will be all. I'll see you in a weeks time."

He bowed to Father and lowered his head to me before climbing back to the drivers seat on our carriage and clicking his tongue, signaling the horses to move. In a few moments he was invisible from the fog and most likely long gone.

"Are you ready Alana? France awaits our presence." With a smile I hooked my arm with his and nodded my head. "I'm ready for anything France throws my way."

I had never been so wrong in my life.