And I'm back with another chapter! This one goes is a little deeper and I kinda thought I made Gaston too nice last chapter- I mean, he is the villain in the Beauty and the Beast after all. He's not originally a nice guy. Enjoy, and please leave a review if you liked it!


Hélène walked up the stairs to her front doors. She was filled with exhaustion but now was no time to let it creep up on her. One of the servants saw her and opened the door, and she nodded her head in thanks. Her home wasn't by any means small; her father a Lord and knight under the King of Paris came with its benefits. One of them was this mansion in the woods, little whiles ride out of the large city. Her mother, being such a traveler, highly enjoyed filling every room with all sorts of knick-knacks that survived this war or that war. Hélène appreciated it all, but it just didn't feel like a home. None of their houses did. Whether it was the cottage in the Alps, or her father's large apartment in Paris, or his mansion here. They only came to this one in the summer when her father had to travel small amounts.

The young woman entered the sitting room to see her mother sitting with a cup of tea and a book in hand. "Bonjour, mother," Hélène curtsied, though it was half-hearted due to there being no skirt to grab. Her mother looked up at her with a smile, which quickly turned into a look of disgust.

"Oh Hélène, you look like a mess. Have you been down at the stables since dawn?" Her mother questioned.

Hélène gave a solemn nod. "I'm sorry mother, Kimora needed some training time she wouldn't have gotten any other way." At this, her mother softened. She always had a soft spot for the horses, which was why Hélène was able to spend so much time with them.

"Still, it is unbecoming of a lady to be dressed so. You wouldn't even attract a rat looking the way you do," Her mother said with a small chuckle at the end. Hélène ignored the small sting that hit her heart; she had heard that insult many times.

"Of course, mother. I will go get cleaned up. My lessons start towards midday, right?" She asked, hoping to see that her mother wouldn't attend them.

Her mother scoffed. "You should know that Hélène, and not have to ask me. But yes, midday, starting with piano and then politics with Madame Lourange. I have something I must discuss with your father, so we will be in his office during that time."

Hélène curtsied once more to her mother when she went back to her book. It was a common dismissal she had received. But no need to dwell on her mother's attitude, she had to clean up and get food. Her stomach rumbled loudly as she went up the steps. It was easily noon, and she hadn't eaten since four o'clock the previous day. And after last night she certainly was running on empty.

"Good morning miss," One of the maids said once Hélène reached her room.

"Good morning Olivia," Hélène greeted the young blonde. Olivia was perhaps the closest to a friend she had here, and so Hélène had begged her mother to allow Olivia to be her chambermaid. This mostly meant just having someone to talk to- Hélène cleaned her own room since she barely spent any time in it and only needed Olivia if her mother was throwing her into an outrageous dress.

Hélène closed the door behind her and walked over to her wardrobe. Olivia's stare didn't go unnoticed, however. "Yes, Olivia?" She asked.

"Where were you last night?" Olivia didn't hesitate to ask.

Hélène scoffed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Was it to meet a boy?" Olivia questioned, ever the romantic.

Hélène rolled her eyes, grabbing out a simple green dress with tight sleeves. She hated anything flowy or poofy. Besides, green was hard to go wrong with.

"No, I did not go out to meet a boy," Hélène answered, but her mind immediately went to Gaston. She shouldn't be wasting time. She had to bid Olivia ado and quickly dressed, cleaning her face and hair as well.

The brunette quickly went down the stairs and made her way into the kitchen. She made herself a plate of eggs boiled by the chef, bread, and a bit of cheese, and made another plate with double the portions. Gaston was going to be very hungry. Stuffing an extra egg into her mouth and chewing on it as she made her way soundlessly towards a side door that was a bit closer to the barn, she tried her best to balance the large plate and her own. She had rather good balance but she was worn out. She hoped that food would help.

Within just a few moments she had finished the egg in her mouth and made her way to the barn door. Balancing the smaller plate of food onto her right arm, she used her left to open the heavy door. She was surprised to see Gaston sitting up, although his posture was rather poor and his arm was wrapped around his torso.

"Gaston, I told you not to move!" She said, moving towards him with the plates. He only replied with a shrugging kind of expression, obviously in too much pain to actually shrug. "Well, here. Don't eat too quickly- and listen to me this time." She handed him his plate and he took it.

"I remember," He said after a few minutes of eating in silence.

Hélène's eyebrows shot up at that. "You remember how you fell?" She asked.

Gaston nodded, still eating an egg. He rather seemed to like those, since he already devoured four. "The Beast and I were fighting. I shot him, but the walkway I was on crumbled. And I fell," He explained.

"C'est pas vrais! Is the Beast dead?" She asked. "Is that why the curse seemed to be broken when I was helping you get away?"

Gaston shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think so. But I will kill him, that much is certain," He spoke with a terrible glint in his eye. For the first time in the hours she had known him, Hélène felt trepidation enter her heart about this man. That glint was something she had seen before, and it always belonged to a cruel man. Doubts entered her mind about the person sitting beside her.

"Why kill him? What has the Beast done?" Hélène inquired innocently.

Gaston attempted to stand up, his almost empty plate sent sprawling onto the floor. He barely managed to get on his feet as it was. "What has the Beast done?! What does it matter, he's a beast! He was created by dark magic!" Gaston was near shouting.

"Watch your mouth, garçon! I hold myself higher than a petty little object you may use to let out your tantrums!" Hélène replied and stood up, as much anger in her voice as was in Gaston's, though she was far less liberal with her volume. "I was simply asking for reasons to kill a beast! You leave a wolf alone until it chases you!"

"Garçon?! Says you, a stupid little stablehand! I cannot believe you would speak to me, Gaston, a man of greatness, in such a manner!" He fired back.

"A stupid little stablehand?! Is that really what you take me for?" Hélène said, looking at Gaston with vexation.

Gaston huffed. "Well it is what you are, as you have clearly shown," He replied, pulling back and standing straighter despite his swaying that showed his weakness.

"I want you out. By sundown," Hélène all but spat out. "See if you're safe by yourself in the woods as injured as you are. Perhaps you'll die like you would have last night if not for me." Hélène spun around and walked out the barn door, her head held high. She almost slammed the door shut behind her but thought better and closed it firmly. How callously rude could a man get? It was a question Hélène's mind spun around as she made her way back to the mansion. This would all be over in a few hours, that man would be gone, her life would go back to normal.

Stopping right before the door, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It would not be good to go in with her nerves as shot as they were. She would certainly destroy her piano if that were the case. She didn't care about how Gaston would leave, as damaged as he was. He had already shown hints of being the type of man she liked to avoid; one who didn't busy himself with trying to be kind.

Not an hour later, she found herself playing her beloved instrument as well as anyone who had been doing it as long as she. She remembered being a little six year old enfant, sitting beside her older brother when he was eighteen as she was now, and he would play and play for her. He originally taught her to play, since he was a natural protégé, but when he left to join the King's Guard, her mother hired her an instructor.

He was a mean older man who had nothing better to do with his time than smacking Hélène's fingers with a long stick when she played something that wasn't up to his standards. Of course, he didn't dare do that when her father was around. He often was when he was home because he enjoyed watching his daughter play, but when her mother was around he almost seemed to hit her harder, and her mother never said a word. She hadn't been on the receiving end of that stick for nearly three years now, and all he really did was give her new sheet music to perfect these days.

The time for her instrument went by quickly unlike all those years ago when she would finish up with bruised and sometimes bleeding knuckles. She begrudgingly said goodbye to him and made her way to the parlor with a large book about politics for her tutoring with Madame Lourange. Hélène found her name rather ironic but would never say such a thing. Her skin was not so much a cream color as it was a fake mocha with more than a hint of orange. She used some sort of new makeup to give herself this 'year-round tan' but when Hélène was younger she would joke to herself that she bathed in orange baths every night. Olivia thought much the same thing as well, so she was often the topic of their conversations after Hélène had lessons.

She was currently working on politics with Madame Lourange, including governments and laws. It was all rehashing at this point. It was her last year of tutoring, thank goodness, so they were just basically having a condensed version of the past ten years of her education, which included homemaking skills, maths, politics, literature, and a variety of other important subjects. She loved her education, but her mother was trying to prim her out to become the wife of some royalty. She knew her mother had her eye on a few Dukes and a prince over in England, so it was often what she liked to talk with Hélène about. Understandably, it was Hélène's least favorite dinner topic.

Her day after the bout with Gaston went by rather quickly. As she stood up she glanced out the window, seeing the sun lowering on the horizon. Hopefully, Gaston was gone.


And that's it for now! I know, short, but I am so not good at making things long lol. I'm not sure how long this is all gonna be in the end. I'm not hoping for something too long.