Warning: Took liberté, egalité, and fraternité (but, mostly liberté) with actual events and people. It was not intended to detract from actual historical events. I am sorry if it offends.

Little town, it's a quiet village,

every day like the one before.

Little town, full of little people,

waking up to say..."It's War!"

Henri woke up to a dull reverberating ache in his head. It took a few seconds for him to realize that someone was politely, but persistently knocking on his bedchamber doors. He groaned. What time was it? Surely it was too soon for him to be getting up? He had barely slept a wink all night! Eyes still closed, he slid his hand to the other side of the bed, where his wife slept. When his hand came up cold and empty, he remembered that Belle was at their other home –the one in the forest, near that little town -taking care of her father. He was in Paris -alone.

Knock, knock, knock.

He sighed. Almost alone. "Enter, Cogsworth" he called.

His valet sidled in, mopping his brow with a handkerchief. A couple weeks' worth of Parisian food had expanded his already prominent waistline. Cogsworth gave a small bow at the end of his bed. "I'm terribly sorry, sir, but you did ask me last night to wake you at ten o' clock. Furthermore, I have breakfast waiting for you downstairs. I thought that you would need a hearty meal to lift your spirits this morning –considering yesterday's events."

Henri lay back on the pillow. Ah, yes. His business in Paris had taken much longer than he had anticipated. He was aching to return home to be with his new wife, and to help her nurse her sick father, the castle's inventor. It was only two months ago that he was summoned to the city of lights for a meeting of the Estates General –over a simple taxation issue, no less- but it felt like a lifetime ago. And now, he had no idea how long it would be until he could go back.

Stupid, stupid, stupid King!

The meeting of the Estates was supposed to be about taxes. Unfortunately (for Henri's sense of urgency), it became an issue of representation. The Third Estate, with twice as many delegates found out that in the issue of taxes -of which they would undoubtedly carry most of the burden -they had only as much representation as the clergy and the nobility –who were tax exempt. And even though Henri was a noble, he found himself sympathizing with the delegates of the Third Estate.

It was especially odd, taking into account that only a few years ago, he wouldn't even have considered them worthy of his notice. He would have regarded himself far too important a person to even comprehend the situation of common people. So what if the price of bread had risen 4 francs in the past year? Let them eat cake.

It's surprising how a person's perspective can change overnight. His epiphany came in the form of an old peasant woman, bearing a rose, looking for shelter at his castle one night. Did he take pity on the fact that she was an old woman in a frozen, wolf infested wood? No. Did he consider that her situation was a product of the current economy rather than a moral flaw? No. Did he even treat her as a decent human being should treat another? No, he did not.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Prince!

So it came to pass that the old woman turned him into the creature that he was inside, and all of the inhabitants of his castle into objects. (To add insult to injury, they had turned into the tools of their trade.) The beast had despaired of ever becoming human again, perhaps because there was so little to call human in the first place. But if he had to determine who had a worse lot in life, it was his subjects. To be a beast meant he still had functioning arms and legs. He could still feel and touch, unlike the candle knave, who could never enjoy putting an arm to things without setting them on fire. He didn't have to watch his children turn into vessels that other humans would carelessly drink out of, like the tea server. He didn't have to worry about things that household objects had to worry about, such as rust, or carpenter ants, or falling onto marble floors that could shatter you into a thousand pieces. All in all, he made out just fine.

It seemed poetic justice that he was now struggling to protect the current government from placing the burden of their mistakes on the common people: wars that they couldn't afford to fund, missed opportunities to invade England, etc. He joined forces with the delegates of the Third Estate in order to help them gain better representation. However, the King took notice of the proceedings and barred the newly formed National Assembly from meeting at the hall yesterday.

Stupid, stupid, stupid King!

In defiance, they met in the Royal Tennis Courts, and Henri found himself vowing to stay in Paris until a Constitution was drafted.

Henri sighed again and rose to dress as Cogsworth modestly looked the other way. (Cogsworth often protested that Henri would be more presentable if he had let someone dress him, but Henri refused anyone's service in that department. He grew to enjoy simply being able to wear clothes, and was not about to let someone take over his one "creature" comfort.)

He chose his next words with care. "Cogsworth... what I did yesterday will undoubtedly delay our trip a little longer. I do not know what the fallout of me taking the Oaths yesterday will be. We could be threatened. We could be bribed. We could be here for another few weeks as the King tries to force discussion back to taxes. I just wanted you to know that no matter what happens, it was my doing, and it is my responsibility to defend you and our household. And I will do that, no matter the cost."

Cogsworth gave a small chuckle. "I do not think the King is the type of man to issue threats, sir. He has made weak political maneuvers because that is all he can do. He will not threaten anyone in the second estate not only because it would be like betraying family, but also because the other lords would raise such a stink, that it would delay his taxation plans even more. Futhermore, your joining the National Assembly has made you more than twice as many friends as it has made you enemies. You are seen as a hero of the people, your grace. I am proud to call you my master."

The prince raised his eyebrows and waited patiently for Cogsworth to show any signs of irony. Too late, he recalled that the valet didn't have the capacity for sarcasm. Poor Cogsworth! The man was honorable, and loyal, and a good servant. But he was a Royalist through and through. He just happened to have a rebellious master. "Well, I am a very lucky master indeed to have you," he said sincerely. He watched in amusement as Cogsworth's chest puffed with pride.

Master and servant dined together in the dining room of the inn. Cogsworth set into his meal with gusto, while Henri picked at his toast. It was a familiar routine. His growing anxiety over the past few weeks had greatly curbed his appetite. Eventually, he would give it up, and pass the plate to his servant who would polish it off gratefully. And now? He couldn't possibly eat when he was so busy brooding over this Constitution business. What exactly would it entail? When would it be put into practice? What would the consequences be? Henri suspected that he was only a pawn in some grander scheme. He was no longer in control of his destiny. It was an unsettling feeling, for a blue blood. Furthermore, he missed being home with his wife –with his family. The pain of it only increased his growing displeasure.

He was brooding over a cup of coffee when he saw a man approach his table. Henri hadn't met him personally, but recognized his face instantly:

"Lafayette!" he exclaimed, rising in greeting. "It is a pleasure and a privilege to meet you!"

"Likewise," the man replied in a stately manner. He turned to Cogsworth.

"Pardon me, this is my valet, Cogsworth," the prince explained. He winced as he noticed that Cogsworth had spilled egg yolk down the front of himself in surprise of being greeted by a hero. Cogsworth couldn't even bring himself to meet the man's eyes. He kept staring at Henri as if to say, "What is the vice president of the Estates General doing here?" However, Lafayette seemed not to have noticed.

"A pleasure, sir," he said graciously. Cogsworth looked like he was liable to faint, but recovered miraculously. He began tittering away.

"It is an honor to be met by a man with such a distinguished military career. Your achievements are positively legendary on two continents! How was America? How was fighting the English? How long have you been in France?"

"Five years, thank you," said Lafayette. "But I don't have time to talk about my long and incredibly dull tour of duty. I have to get back to the King. I came to bring a message to you, your Grace," he turned to Henri. "The delegates of the Third Estate are meeting in the Church of St. Louis this afternoon, in lieu of the Tennis Courts being closed again."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Henri.

Lafayette just smiled cryptically and made his leave. Cogsworth kept his eye on the retreating Marquis, and after he exited the dining room, continued staring at the doorway as if stunned. Henri was stunned, but in a different way. He now knew for certain that the King was aware that he had abandoned his political station by joining the National Assembly. But he knew that he had an ally –even from the very class that he had betrayed.