The snow falls nearly every day at the castle. Bellamy isn't exactly sure how much time has passed since he's entered the castle. Time seems to stand still in this place.

He walks the grounds with Clarke, her enormous shadow shading him from the brightness of the sun. They are currently discussing Shakespeare's works when she says, "I didn't find Romeo and Juliet to be very realistic."

Bellamy scoffs, "You would say that. I quite enjoy it. Two people, willing to do anything for love."

"They knew each other for four days," Clarke states with an eye roll.

If Bellamy didn't know better, that would look utterly terrifying coming from the large beast form. However, he knew that Clarke was harmless, and certainly would not hurt him.

"You don't find that romantic? I thought girls liked that sort of rushed romance."

Clarke turns toward him now, and Bellamy takes in her full beastly appearance.

"I haven't been a girl for quite some time," she jokes.

Bellamy lets out an unexpected laugh. Who knew that she could be funny?

The continue walking the grounds and Bellamy feels quite comfortable with this beastly girl. Much more comfortable than he had ever felt around the towns people.

Octavia comes to the castle that evening to join them for dinner. She sits to Bellamy's right, observing the interactions between him and Clarke.

She loves her brother dearly and knows him better than she even knows herself. He doesn't appear to be a prisoner here. In fact, she thinks that he would choose to be in this castle than to be in town. People are now starting to whisper about his whereabouts. Octavia tells them that he is out of town, visiting a distant relative.

But that excuse can only last her so long. Soon Echo will be after her every hour that Bellamy has not returned to town. With this in mind, she opens her mouth to speak. Bellamy is talking animatedly to Clarke, his eyes lighting up. She decides that this conversation can wait until later.

They sit in the dining room, Octavia, Bellamy, the living objects, and the beast. Yet the Blake siblings feel quite at home, just where they are.

Echo sits in the tavern, pouring herself another drink. She wonders when Bellamy will be back, and why he never bothered to tell her that he was leaving. Surly she deserves to know that much, since they're practically engaged. He's the only one who suits her tastes in this small town.

"You should just get over the fool!" yells a drunken man from across the tavern. Echo calmly stands, grabs a dart, and throws. It hits the man in the hand that holds his beer. She sits as he cries out.

The other towns people notice Echo's foul mood and stay far away from her. The only brave soul who dares approach her is Anya.

"What's a matter, Echo? Bellamy turn you down again?" Anya asks with a smirk.

Echo scowls. "He's not even in town."

"Ah," Anya says knowingly. "That must be why you're in a piss pour mood. Maybe we could do something to take your mind off of it."

"Like what?" Echo asks impatiently.

"Let's go hunt. I've heard that there's some great game just west of town."

Echo sighs, but grabs her bow from where it hangs on the tavern wall. She walks quickly to the door.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Echo says irritably as Anya trails after her.

The Blakes and Clarke sit by the fire in the room by the main doors. The same room that Octavia sought refuge in. That time seems so far away now as they all sit together.

Raven and Miller offer them tea, as Murphy and Jasper argue about something trivial. Emori is out of sight, but Bellamy swears that he can sense her presence.

There's something much softer about Clarke than when he first met her. After knowing that she was simply in need of companionship, he knew that something had changed between them. The more time they spent together, the more Bellamy questioned what was happening. He certainly didn't feel like a prisoner, although he wasn't exactly free. He thinks he can feel Clarke's gaze linger on him sometimes. But surely he is just imagining it.

Octavia is telling them about how well her dresses are selling.

"I'm not surprised," says Clarke. "They are quite magnificent. I imagine I would have loved them when I was a girl."

Clarke has yet to tell them the whole story, but Bellamy thinks he has it somewhat figured out. She was surly a rich girl, if the castle and the servants were any indication. Something happened and she ended up cursed, though Bellamy isn't quite sure why. He likes to imagine a timeline where he meets her before all of this, when she is not cursed and he is not her prisoner. But that is not what fate has in store for them. He doesn't know what she looked like before, but he imagines that she was pretty - beautiful, really.

Octavia pushes his shoulder when she notices that he isn't paying attention. He tries not to flush. "What?"

She rolls her eyes. "I said that Echo asks me about you every day."

"Echo?" Clarke inquires. "Is this the huntress?"

Octavia looks slightly surprised. She hadn't expected Bellamy to tell Clarke about Echo. "That's the one," she replies.

Bellamy rolls his eyes. "I've told her time and again that she needs to stop trying to track my every move. I'm not some beast that she can hunt."

Clarke lets out a soft chuckle. "No, you're not. But I definitely am."

Bellamy doesn't even like the thought of that. He pushes it from his mind.

"Perhaps the easiest way to avoid questioning would be to have Octavia stay at the castle," Bellamy suggests.

Clarke looks uncertain, but one glance at Bellamy and she agrees. "Of course. Please come stay with us, Octavia. It would be an honor."

Bellamy smiles, and Clarke feels her heart fluttering.

Before Octavia leaves to retrieve the remainder of her belongings, Clarke wishes to speak to her in private. Bellamy quirks an eyebrow, but says nothing, even though everyone can tell just how curious he is.

Once alone, Clarke puts a paw on the back of her neck. "This is ridiculous," she mutters to herself.

"Did you need something, Clarke?" Octavia asks her.

"Well," Clarke begins, looking at her claws, "I was wondering...would you make me a dress?"

"A dress?" Octavia asks.

"I was thinking that we could put the ballroom to use," Clarke explains. "And I would like very much to wear something that you made."

Octavia beams at her, ideas for the dress already brewing. "Of course."

Clarke tries her best at a smile.

As well as Octavia can read Bellamy, she's pretty certain that she can read Clarke as well. There's something between them, even though she can't quite put her finger on it. Perhaps she is a bit of a matchmaker, and this isn't the best idea.

One glance at Clarke, seeing how she stares longingly at Bellamy, tells her that this idea certainly could work.