A/N: Some things to be aware of: The Prince's name is not "Adam" in this story. Sorry, I hope the change works for everyone. This is attempting to be kind of, sort of more in line with the France setting of the new movie. So it's kind of, sort of trying to keep in line with French nobility and politics of the (roughish) period setting of the movie. But research is a tricky mistress and mistakes will be made. As always, comments and critiques are appreciated as they fuel the incredibly egotistical soul that lies within the author.

"Mademoiselle!"

Belle turned, white dress rustling. The castle was bustling; happy villagers and happy servants, the Maestro's orchestra playing a constant stream of joyous music. Halls draped in garland and glitter. The sun had set below the mountains, and the castle was warm with lights as a breeze lapped in through the windows.

"Oh Belle, you were a vision on the dance floor!" Lumiere glowed, his smile as bright as his old flame.

"Why thank you, Lumiere." She beamed, extending an arm as he came to her.

"You my dear owe me a dance." He purred playfully, ever the flirt. Taking her hand he twirled her, making her laugh. "We shall spin and dip and make the others so jealous!"

"After the dinner, you'll have your dance, Monsieur." Promising with a kiss pressed to his cheek. "And the celebration is lovely. You did such an excellent job planning the entertainment."

"Two months of planning, it's my finest party yet!" He kissed his fingers to the air. "Anything for you and the Master. We're so grateful for you in our lives." Patting her hand, he looked past her. "You should go, Mademoiselle, Your prince awaits."

Belle turned to see him. Tall, handsome, refined. Turning back to Lumiere, she smiled. "Our dance after dinner."

He flashed an excited grin, walking away and nearly running into Cogsworth who was not as nearly as glimmering.

"And what are you smiling about?" He huffed like he had just discovered his clock was off by five minutes.

The former candelabra threw an arm around the majordomo's shoulders. "Oh Cogsworth, lighten up! Look at this castle, it's alive again!"

"We need to get to the hall, or have you forgotten?"

"And what were you doing with Lumiere?" The prince asked, genteelly offering an arm to escort her with.

She slipped her hand over arm, palm atop his. "Enjoying this day with one of my good friends. And what have you been up to?"

"I owed Mrs. Potts a dance before dinner." He announced, proudly leading her down the hall. Back straight, chest swelling, blue eyes bright, smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. The charming prince in her books. "And this day is a wonderful one. All because of you."

"Us." Correcting him, she watched his eyebrows lift. "It was both of us."

He chuckled. "Us then, Darling."

"B-Ansell." She quickly corrected herself, but it was too late. He laughed. Deep, amused, rolling.

"Well, you're improving. It's been a week since the last slip." Drawing her hand up, he kissed her knuckles. Eyes so teasing, she was still getting used to that. This Ansell fellow was a little more lighthearted than her beast. Or perhaps her beast was more lighthearted as Ansell. She was still sorting it out.

"You know, I knew you by one name for over a year." She pointed out keenly "And now you have an entirely different one-"

"It's been two months, Dear."

"It's still an adjustment, Prince Anselme." she bumped him playfully with her hip, and he kept chuckling.

"You know, I-"

Hearing a pack of small shoes clattering down the hall, they turned and ducked out of the way as Chip led a large group of children. Each one was in their Sunday best and each and every one of the articles of clothing tousled and askew.

"Hi Chip." Ansell smiled.

"Hi Belle! Hi Master Ansell!" He hollered back at them, skidding off as someone shouted something about hunting ghosts and breaking curses.

"Bye, Chip." Ansell waved his fingers with the least amount of effort as it was clear the gesture would be unnoticed.

"What on earth." She pulled her hand to her mouth, laughing at the sight.

"Well I for one am glad everyone is having fun." Slipping an arm around her waist, he stole a kiss. One that wasn't as chaste as he had initially planned.

Belle snaked a hand up, stroking his jaw with the pad of her thumb. She felt breathless afterward and closed her eyes when he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I love you if you haven't noticed." He whispered, his eyes sparkling happily.

"I love you too." Smoothing a hand over his silk waistcoat, she smiled up at him. "I love you so very much."

"Even without a beard?"

"Even without a beard, but possibly a little more with a beard."

He laughed, his voice echoing through the stone that glowed in candlelight. "We should probably go." He nodded towards the end of the hall. "Everyone is waiting for us. Come on."

The dining hall was packed. Long tables, more in other rooms, each cascading with food. Everyone chattering, laughing, drinking so much wine.

Cogsworth rose from the center table. He was seated towards the middle, all polished and powdered. An overstuffed, over prepared sentinel.

"Here we go." Ansell breathed out, squeezed her hand. Giving her a more proper elbow once more to walk with.

The entire room rose up. Servants, friends, love ones. All of them looking at the handsome pair expectantly. Suddenly the room felt too warm, and Belle's face too hot with blush.

"Presenting Prince Anselme Louis Fredric Ives-" Cogsworth boomed, pride peeking out from under his mustache. Clearly relishing his ability to announce royalty once more. Belle and Ansell stopped paying attention to the long name and even longer title, stealing glances at one another, trying so hard not to grin too widely, blush too red.

Ansell bowed to the room, and she followed his lead with a curtsy. He guided her to the middle table, the head of it in the back. Gilded and elegant, lions and scrolls adorning the legs. Glossy, brightly colored foods making the air heavy with enticing scents. Two large, sweeping chairs for them to sit at the head of it like rulers.

Maurice, the Potts', and all of their friends stood down the length of it. Beaming with pride and cheer.

The prince's chest felt fit to burst as he stole a glance at Belle. She was too beautiful for him, too good. And yet she was there, on his arm, shimmering and sweet. Her dress simple with blossoms twisting around it, glossy hair pulled back, eyes smiling at him when they made contact. At him. He still wasn't sure why he deserved it. Taking his place at the table, Belle by his side, he placed his fingers on the silk runner resting on top.

"We are so glad to have you here with us." Stately voice carrying as everyone watched him. Their golden prince; lions mane tied back, eyes so bright and shining. He made it hard for Belle to breathe in her dress and she had refused a corset. "This is a day I never thought would happen. Yet here we are, with old friends." He smiled at his staff, who bowed their heads. "And new ones." He looked to Le Fou with his irrepressible grin. "To celebrate our day rejoining the world. So we welcome you tonight, friends, family, villagers we've yet to meet, to be our guests."

The room roared with applause, and he gestured to the courses of food.

"Please, eat! And remember, we would love if you would join us in the ballroom afterward." Everyone sat, a loud clang of plates and chorus of happy conversations filling the castle. Turning, he met Belle's eyes. Clearly seeking approval from the one person it meant so much from. "So? How'd I do?"

She patted his arm. "Very nicely done." He pulled out her chair and she took her seat. Dancing had made her famished, and one of the servers immediately filled her goblet with a generous amount of wine as she eyed a small mountain of roasted game birds.

"That was quite the speech." Maurice smiled after a sip of his wine.

"I was never the one to give loud proclamations, so I had to practice this morning." He said, straightening a jacket sleeve with a hint of lingering nerves. "Several times."

"In the mirror." Belle added. "In his robe."

Maurice chuckled as the prince gave her a withering look.

"I thought that was just between us." He raised an eyebrow at her.

She looked breathtakingly mischievous. "I never agreed to that."

"And just how do you know what his robe looks like?" Mrs. Potts asked curiously, reproachfully. A twinkle in her eye.

Belle's face was flushed as Ansell's eyes widened in guilt.

Maurice's eyes darted from one to the other.

Ansell turned slowly to his right. "Anything else you'd like to tell them, Belle?"

She cleared her throat and reached for her wine.

Mrs. Potts burst into laughter as she watched them twist. Which in turn, radiated down the table, though only the first few chairs had caught any of the conversation. "Oh you two, I'm just teasin'."

"That was a pretty good one, Mrs. Potts." Her father laughed into his cup. His daughter was not as graceful in her affections towards the prince as she thought herself to be. And as her father, it was hard to not be amused as she navigated new waters.

"Papa."

"You brought it on yourself, my dear." Maurice took a heaping spoonful of steaming vegetables. "Can someone please pass that lovely looking ham?"

Ansell soaked in the merriment at the table before remembering he needed to eat.

"May I?"

Lumiere looked up at his prince who had an arm outstretched. He had twirled and danced with Belle through three songs. She was smiling gaily, still stepping with him. "Only if the Mademoiselle is ready, Sire." He told the prince.

"Don't you have a beautiful lady of your own to dance with?" Belle asked her friend. "I'd hate to steal you away for so long."

Lumiere bowed, all aglow. "You are correct, Ma Cherie. And it has been a pleasure." Allowing Ansell to step in, he headed to Plumette to fetch her from a sous chef.

"You have a very full dance card." Ansel told her, placing his hand up next to her own. Even after dinner, the castle was still full of guests. Everyone was having a grand time under the shimmering chandeliers. Madame Gardenrobe relishing the spotlight, her voice clear and angelic.

"I'm not the only one, you've been quite popular yourself." He was in his dark blue suit, her favorite one. The tailor had remade it after he had shrunk back down to human size, and she had been sewn a new golden gown.

"Tonight has been magical." He said softly, slipping his hand around her waist and dancing more closely as the Maestro slowed the pace and the Madame sung a romantic aria. "But I must admit, I look forward to having the library all to ourselves tomorrow."

Belle smiled tiredly into his jacket. Her feet were beginning to hurt, and an aching need to be reclusive and reading was spreading within. "Oh that sounds so nice."

"Nice and wonderfully lazy." He said enticingly. "Maybe you'll even see me in my robe again."

She laughed. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?"

"Never." Flashing a wicked grin, he gazed deeply into her eyes. "You know, it's nice to-"

The door to the outside flew open in a gust of summer wind.

The entire castle froze.

All of the servants turned as white as sheets.

Ansell turned towards the door, still holding Belle's hand.

A man, bedecked in silks and jewels, entered the ballroom. Chin out, shoulders back, eyes shrewd. Cold. Pompous. An entourage of well-dressed men, soldiers trailing behind, following his wake.

"Mon Dieu." Cogsworth muttered under his breath.

"Oh no." Mrs. Potts sighed in defeat, turning to look sadly at her husband.

A man stepped to the side as bannermen brought in flags. "Introducing the Duke of-" The pronouncement that followed was longer than Ansell's, and Belle didn't hear half of it as she watched her prince. First rippling with anger, then slowly retreat into himself.

"Father." Ansell growled.