The Disney blog fan has an idea of how Bella is coming out Good and evil would be present in the French Revolution. That means that she longs to go to England and become Jane's grandmother either facing his tragic fate, many ideas. The time after Happyly Ever After is ripe for opening ideas – and the Queen's Council, a series of young adults, is putting a fresh response to what comes after a happy ending not just for Bella, but for other Disney princesses, like Mulan and Jasmine.
The first book, Rebel Rose, will follow Belle as she faces a growing class conflict in Revolutionary France. From the first author of Emma Theriault Rebel Rose she not only puts Belle in the middle of the French Revolution, but also touches on the magic and conflict she feels as a normal person in this new role. Basically, it sounds like someone was watching my kid's Disney dreams, holding my hand gently, and saying "Listen to me."
Rebel Rose hitting the shelves on November 11. Check out the special hiding below:
The weight was lifted off of Bella's shoulders as soon as she entered Bastie's gate. It was like entering a foreign country. His courtyard was so crowded that the sounds of Paris did not reach it, blatantly setting it apart from the chaos of the city. He hoped that Lumière was enjoying his time. He felt that he had many parameters past him.
Although the dirt on the streets ruined her boots and edges, Bella felt more like her than she had in weeks. Back home, she had turned into something bigger than Bella. Whether they knew whether he broke the curse or not, the people of Aveyon regarded Bella as their savior. Some thought he had rescued them from an unwary, changing king; very few knew that he had broken the curse that had devastated the state for ten years. But everyone wanted her to be their princess, to fully embrace her new role.
But he can't bring that, not least.
This trip was a repetition. Here he was anonymous, just a person going about their day. Her plain dress made her look uncomfortable. She would enjoy Paris the way she always thought, before returning to her new life and hoping for a better life after some time there.
He turned to the Rue de l & # 39; Université and saw the Seine at 39 between buildings. He was headed to the Palais-Royal, armed with the arrogant information he had gathered from the Aveyon travelers who told him Philippe, duc d & # 39; Orléans, had opened gardens to the public some years ago. Bella had heard talking about the exchange of ideas that took place there, and the shops and cafes on the covered sides that surrounded the gardens. She spent many nights imagining herself there, visiting salons and participating in lively conversations with an open-minded crowd than she could find in Aveyon. Each step he took was like walking through a dream and a dream.
"Mother." The woman went down her path, and stretched out her hand before him. “Can you save a piece? My kids are hungry. ”His skin was sickening, and the dark circles of fatigue under his eyes were deep. Two children were hiding in the middle of her skirts, hunger reducing their forms. Belle couldn't stop the memories of her childhood from popping into her mind. She had known the tingling of an empty stomach. When her mother became ill, Maurice used all the money they had to pay for doctors and tonics, because her illness took her. Bella and her father experienced a strange nightmare – sometimes sharing only the heel of bread and wet broth – both feeling the pain of losing Bella's mother completely to the pain of their hunger. In the spring, Maurice was finally able to bring one of its services nearby and sold it for half of what it was worth to fill their stomachs.
He got his wallet without hesitation and gave the woman a twenty-two coin, enough to support herself and her children for days to come.
The woman's eyes blinked in disbelief, but she quickly accepted the coin. "Mon dieu, thank you, ma'am, thank you."
Bella wanted to say something, but the woman and her children disappeared from the crowd like smoke pipes, and she stopped for the first time since leaving Bastien's home. The Paris riots continued to turn her away, but beneath her, on the outskirts, she saw poverty as nothing she had ever seen before. Tired mothers and weeping babies, mature men, orphaned children, are all collected in the canal and in the suburbs. Each of them wore his own hunger seriously – with the number of ribs dripping with tiny spears, the skin folds tightly sewn around the furrows, the cheeks sliding deep into their sacks.
Without thinking, Bella wandered into the closest alley and began to pull the coins out of her bag. She tried to talk to each person she met, but was soon overwhelmed by the outstretched children. He enjoyed spending money, but wished he could do more. Money It was a temporary solution; these people need long-term help, work, shelter – things that he couldn't easily give them. He was convicted. He was married to a prince and yet he had no power to end their suffering.
The scream sounded loud, scattering the children. Bella turned around and saw a squad of soldiers armed with sandwiches about a mile away. Their blue pants and red collars and cuffs are embroidered with white lanterns for those who like Gardes françaises.
One of them approached him. "Mummy, is everything going well?"
He laughed. "What would I be?"
She gave him a look of pity. "One would not pay too much attention to needy farmers."
Then he realized that he thought he was different from them. He lived his whole life as usual, but since he was married to Adam, something about him made him different. He did not know that it was the light of his hair, or the fullness of his cheeks, but as Barttien knew he was not good, others now knew he was unusual. It left him torn between the other two worlds, which he did not own.
Great thunderstorms poured the attention of the retreating soldiers. Bella rolled her neck to see what was causing this confusion. A large group of men marched on the road to Palais-Royal, armed with nothing but their words. He couldn't explain what they had been shouting for, but because of their lack of understanding they made it passionate.
Curious, Bella followed the soldiers to the area and found herself carrying a mob. He looked at each person individually and could not find any similarities between them; they all differ in the type of clothing that can mark their trade or class. From what he could tell, they were from all sectors of Paris society.
A sea of people crossed the PontRoyal and spilled into the palace gardens on the other side with amazing efficiency. Any soldiers who had followed them were stopped at the gates by the red-handed Guardes of the Grenades who took them out carefully. Bella came in behind them, a large part of the crowd just like everyone else, and found herself in a place she had only spent years thinking about.
The garden was a crowd of people .A large and small group lined with tables, announcing the sound of their voices. To his left was a man standing on the side pulpit, surrounded by a throng of eager listeners. He was wearing a shiny short coat and a long working pantalon, but commanded the attention of hundreds of people who had gathered around him as an authoritative person. Maybe he was the capitalist, he thought, one of the richest members of the State Estate. Bella fought him in front of the crowd and struggled to hear what the man was saying.
“King Louis is hiding in Versailles, he has little interest in our starving children, and he has the power to ask for more. He summons the French Estates to his palace and pretends that the Third Estate will have an equal voice, but we have never been equal! Nor can it be said of the foreign wars where the poor sons of France fight and shed blood and die for freedom which they themselves will never know. He stopped for a moment and waited for the crowd to settle again. “We must unite in our opposition; We must not break up until France has a constitution! ”
The crowd was buzzing with life around Bella, but the man next to her spit at the worker's feet, shocking people into silence. She looked out of place in her white wig and spots.
“Canaille,” he exclaims. Scale.
A few heartbeats passed before the crowd came back, aggressively gathering. A man in the pulpit raises his arms in the air.
“Calmez-vous,” he pleaded before looking directly at the man. "When France washes clean, the calculation of the False Estate, Monsieur."
Cheers frowned at the dutiful response, but Bella held the keys to the spill from her lips. The crowd was moving toward chaos. At the same time, the Palais-Royal complaint disappeared.Belle wanted to be anywhere but there, caught in a group of valiant, angry men. He pushed from the center and rushed into the garden. The passing girl pressed the pamphlet into Bella's arms before reaching the gate. Bella returned from across the Seine when she looked at the front page and saw it as a political pamphlet, not like the one she sent back to Aveyon, written by the likes of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Émilie du Châtelet, Olympe de Gouges, and Nicolas de Condorcet. She had never read this one before.
What is Third Party Ownership? Everything.
He recalled Bastien's claim earlier that day, that the Third Estate had offended the king and nothing else. Only rabble-rous, he had assured them. He looked back to the page.
What has been up to the political agenda so far? Not at all.
Asking what? To become something.
According to Bella's understanding of French politics, it was an easy wish to deceive. In France, power was concentrated in the hands of clergy and laity. The stupid ones were empty. This was the case for hundreds of years. But what if they could get one for themselves? What if the Estate Estate became something? It was going to change the world.
It was brave for so-called rabbis, he thought. But Bastien had just told them that the Third Estate had turned into something new: the National Assembly. And King Louis has hitherto been unable to exterminate it. ToBelle, that sounds like a powerhouse.
As he left home, he realized he had sinned. Paris was nothing to remember. The town was a powder plant, and farmers lamented the transition to the Palais-Royal gardens that were held for games in hand.
Bella may have grown up to be a farmer, and she may not have taken the title assigned to her, but she did not think that fact would be enough to convince the people of Paris that she was nothing like the officials they insulted.
It was a girl married to a prince. He lived in a palace and wanted nothing to do with it. At that moment, as she thought back to the woman who had asked for money to feed her hungry children, Bella wasn't sure she could convince herself of this.
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