Two weeks passed, and the workload for the castle staff only increased. With Belle and Adam now officially engaged, maids and servants could be seen bustling through the castle at all times of the day, decorating hallways, cleaning windows, sweeping floors, polishing door handles and bumping into each other in the hallways, all in preparation for the royal wedding which was to take place at the start of the month. Cogsworth, as head of household, was so busy overseeing the wedding plans that he had been forced to put the prince's tutoring on hold which was fine with Adam, because this meant he could spend less time studying and more time alone with Belle. Soon the two could happily say that they were back to their regular routine of taking long walks out in the grounds or sitting together in the library, reading storybooks.
Perhaps it had something to do with being human again, but Adam was finding it much easier to read than when he was a beast. Over the course of a week they had covered all the classics, including Shakespeare, Jonathan Swift, Voltaire, Descartes and John Locke and were currently moving on to Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe which happened to be one of Belle's favourite books.
What Adam loved more than knowing he was getting better at reading was seeing the smile on Belle's face as he read to her. Of course, she had smiled at him when he was the beast, but now that he knew the real meaning behind it; that she loved him, he couldn't help but feel an extra bit of contentment whenever they were together. It was a kind of happiness one could only experience from being in love, and Adam sincerely hoped that once they got married, he would be able to give Belle all the happiness she gave him, and more.
Belle enjoyed being in Adam's company because she could use this time to adjust to his human appearance. She could still see traces of the Beast in him, not only in his eyes, but in his smile, in his gestures and even his voice. After a while, she couldn't see the Beast anymore at all, only Adam; the man who had given up everything in one night just to let her be with her father. And now she was getting married to him! Of course people got married everyday, but now that it was happening to her, she could honestly say that it felt as though she were living in a fairytale. Except this wasn't just a fairytale. This was real life.
As the wedding day drew closer however, Belle found herself spending less time with Adam and more time in her room getting fitted for her bridal gown.
"I wish you'd consider that noblemen from all across the province are coming to this wedding," Monsieur Aiguille was saying to Madame Armoire on the day of her third fitting, "You could at least try and make her dress look more authentic."
"Oh posh," said Madame Armoire. It certainly hadn't been her idea to work with him on Belle's wedding garments, and if it weren't for the fact that the spell was broken she would happily shut him away in her wardrobe cabinet so she could work her dress in peace. "Belle is a special girl," she continued as she took a few more measurements of her skirt, "She and the master both deserve to wear something representative of them not just those awkward outfits those aristocrats pretenieux wear back in Versailles."
"Jeanette, I do not mean to denote your dressmaking preferences," Aiguille said icily, "But we want to make a good impression for the aristocrats, don't we?"
"And what exactly is there not to like, Armand?"
"A great many things my dear Jeanette. Would you like me to name them all for you?"
Belle sighed. The wedding was almost two weeks away, and it seemed that Adam's tailor and her dressmaker were no closer to agreeing on a style for her wedding dress than Lumiere and Cogsworth were to settling on a main entrée for the wedding feast.
Trying to distract herself from their imminent argument (she learned that it was better to let them work out their differences than trying to stop them herself), she focused her eyes on the beautiful landscape of mountains and forests outside her window. Somewhere beyond those trees, past the farmers' fields and wealthy estates, was the quaint village she had once lived in: Molyneaux.
It was funny, up until this point Belle hadn't given much thought about the village she had lived in for six months. There was so many changes going on in the castle, it hadn't exactly crossed her mind the thought of returning. But now that she was thinking about it, she couldn't help wonder if she could go back, if just for a day. Sure, she may not have fit in there, but it had been her home once and...she didn't know, maybe she wanted to say a proper goodbye to it before starting her life as a princess. If anything, she could help her papa carry his tools and inventions back to the castle. That, and pay her respects to Gaston. Sure he was arrogant, but he certainly hadn't deserved to die because of it.
"Yes, I should go back," she thought as Madame Armoire turned her around to add some more pins to the back of her bodice. It was just a matter of checking with Adam to see if that would be all right.
"Fils de pute!" Maurice shouted. He had been tightening some bolts on his latest invention when he accidentally dropped his wrench on his foot, causing him to cry out in pain.
"I heard that!" Adam grinned as he peered his head out from the frame he was working on opposite Maurice, "That three for you, two for me."
"Oh, that's no fair," the old man whined, "That really hurt this time!"
"Well if you would like to call it draw…"
"And surrender to my future son-in-law? Not a chance!"
For the past week while Belle was away at dress fittings, Adam had been spending his time down in the cellars, visiting Maurice in his workshop. It so happened that the prince knew a bit of carpentry from the times he had had to repair the castle as a beast, and now could use his skills to help Maurice put his latest inventions together. Today they were working on a pulley mechanism which would allow servants to send supplies up to the different parts of the castle without having to use the stairs all the time. It was a fun, if not painful project, and Adam was mostly into it for the quality time he got to spend with Maurice.
"So what's the story behind your name?" Maurice asked, continuing a conversation they had started earlier.
"My name?" Adam repeated.
"Well its not exactly French is it? More like Hebrew? Like Adam and Eve from the book of Genesis?"
Adam nodded. "I guess it all has to do with my family's long obsession with renaissance art. Cogsworth for example, told me that my great-grand-parents wanted the castle to be fashioned after an artist named Michel-Ange after they went to Italy and saw some of his artwork. Then when my parents married they also went to Italy and saw one of his paintings in the Chapelle Sixtine called La Création d'Adam. For some reason my mother had an epiphany that if I were a son, I should be named after him. That's what Cogsworth says anyway, but I have a feeling that there was another reason."
Maurice chuckled, "It's funny how you mention Michel-Ange. He was a bit of an inventor too you know. Not in the conventional sense...but he did design some incredible forms of architecture from what I recall."
"You've been to Italy before, monsieur?" Adam asked in surprise.
"Well no, but Belle got me a book on him once. Of course it was really Léonard de Vinci's work I was more interested in but I have a bit of appreciation for anyone who can make such wonderful crafts."
Adam nodded. He was about to hammer his next nail into the wood, only he forgot where his thumb was resting and was met with an unpleasant sensation as metal collided with flesh. His thumb immediately seared with pain.
"Merde!"
"Oho, that's a tie now," Maurice said, "Three for me, three for you."
Adam bit his thumb, eyes watering. "What time is it anyway? Do you think Belle's done with her fittings yet?"
"Why don't you go up and check? I can finish up from here. Maybe I should treat that thumb of yours first."
Leading him by the hand, which was quite awkward given the differences in their heights, Maurice took Adam to the far wall of the workshop where a piece of white linen and a bucket of cold water had been set aside. "Belle's idea," he explained as he got him to sit down, "She always worried that I'd hurt myself while she was out doing chores."
"Well she wasn't wrong," Adam said in amusement.
"C'est vrai," he nodded, "She's a smart girl, takes after her mother in that respect."
As the old man dipped the cloth into the water, a pensive expression fell on his face. "You know, Adam" he said as he began wrapping the damp cloth around his thumb, "I know you had your uncertainties about proposing to my daughter before, but let me just say I'm glad you found your confidence in the end. I know you make Belle very happy and I'm sure you two will have a wonderful future together."
Adam raised an eyebrow, "Well thank you sir," he said. It was a bit strange; they had never discussed the marriage until this point, not since the day he had come in to ask for Maurice's blessings. Given the conversations they had had in the past few days, it hadn't really seemed like the sort of thing they would talk about. Still, he listened carefully as he continued.
"Just remember what the priest told me on my wedding day: 'He that loves his wife loves himself.' No matter how selfless Belle may be, remember in the end that you are her husband. It is your responsibility to care for her, bring out the best in her, be with her every step of the way and most importantly, always go out in your way for your love for her. Do you think you can do that, Adam?"
Adam remembered the night he had let Belle return to her father. At the time, he could care less about being human for himself; he only wanted to be human for her. It had seemed like a far-fetched fantasy at the time…but now…now that he was human he could make it real. He felt a smile draw on his lips as he came to his answer.
"I think I can, monsieur."
Maurice smiled. "Then I'll let you be on your way." He was already finished with the bandaging.
"I can't go in there," Belle was reading to Chip as they sat together by the fireplacein the parlour, "I'm too big."
"You silly child," the witch said angrily. "The oven is quite big enough. Look, I could even get in myself!"
She bent down and put her head in the oven. Gretel gave her a hard push and she fell right inside. Shutting the iron door, Gretel bolted it."
"Ha!" Chip said with a grin, "Take that you old witch!"
"Knock, knock!" said Adam.
Chip and Belle looked up from the book to see the prince enter the room accompanied by Mrs. Potts and her tea trolley, "Oh hello mama, hello master!" Chip said brightly.
"Hello Chip," said Mrs. Potts, "I thought you were supposed to be downstairs helping your brothers and sisters in the kitchen?"
"Oops," Chip's face turned red, "I guess I forgot."
Adam sympathized. He remembered how things were when he was Chip's age; how he would rather scare unsuspecting servants and throw temper-tantrums than fulfill his responsibilities as the next heir to the throne.
"What is Belle reading to you, Chip?" he asked.
"Hansel and Gretel," Chip replied, "You should listen to it master, it's an awesome story!"
Adam shared a knowing expression with Belle. "I'd love to Chip," he said, "But right now, I need sometime to be alone with Belle. Do you think maybe you can listen to her read it later?"
"Well, I guess so," Chip frowned. But turning to Belle he added, "But you promise you'll finish it later, right?"
"Of course, Chip," Belle said as she ran her hand through his sandy-blonde hair, "In fact, if your mama says it's alright, I'll come by the kitchens later tonight and read the rest of it before bedtime."
"Oh boy!" The boy turned on his mother earnestly, "Mama, can we do that, please?"
"Of course dear," Mrs. Potts said as she set up the tea for Adam and Belle. "But you'll have to finish all your chores first. How about we get started on them now so we can give Belle and the master some privacy?"
"Okay," said Chip, "Bye Belle, bye master!"
"Au revoir, Chip, Mrs. Potts."
Adam was still smiling to himself after the two servants had left the room. Taking his spot next to her on the rug, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "They really like you, you know," he said, "Chip and the others."
Belle smiled and leaned her head against Adam's chest. "I like them too." she said softly. It was then that she noticed the white cloth wrapped around her fiancé's thumb, "What happened to your hand?" she asked.
"Oh," Adam blushed as he moved his arm off her shoulder, "Nothing I um…I just bruised it with a hammer."
Belle laughed, "I'm sorry," she said, "It just reminds me of something Papa would do. You're going to be alright though, right?"
"It's just a bruise, nothing serious. How about you, how were the dress alterations today?"
Belle made a face, "Well they are better…" she stressed the word, "now that Madame Armoire and Monsier Aiguille have settled on a style."
"You don't sound too happy."
She shook her head. "They've decided to make it again from scratch," she explained, "Which means even more alterations for me! It looks like you'll be keeping Papa company for a while longer."
"I don't have much of a choice," Adam said as he leaned back his head, "It's either I stay with your father or be forced to pick out fabric colours for the wedding," He too made a face as he thought of the prospect.
"Well I just hope it will be worth the wait."
"Oh I'm sure it will be." He turned to her and stroked the side of her cheek, "It doesn't matter what kind of dress you end up wearing, you will always be beautiful to me."
Belle blushed at the compliment, "You sure I'll look good enough for you? You're pretty handsome too, you know."
He laughed, and she felt her face become ten times redder. "Belle, no matter what I look like, I'll always be the same, horrible, ugly Beast you fell in love with underneath. I can promise you that much."
"Oh, but you were never a Beast, Adam," she said, "It just took the right person to realize that."
She moved forward to kiss him, and Adam responded, wrapping his arms around her lovingly. Two weeks of intimacy had only strengthened their love for one another, and now they found that they not only longed for each other spiritually, but physically as well. When they were finished, Belle rested her head against Adam's shoulder and sighed. Everything was perfect. In a week she'd be married to her prince, and would be living happily ever after, just like in her fairytales. But there was still one lingering thought on her mind.
"Adam," she said to him slowly, "Since the wedding is a week away, I was thinking that..."
"Yes?" he asked.
"Well," she brushed a strand of hair away from her face, "It's just that…there are a few belongings from my house in the village I'd like to pick up and bring back to the castle."
Adam looked surprised. "Well why didn't you say so? I'll send some servants to get whatever it is you need, right away!"
"Well, actually," she chose her words carefully, "I was thinking of going back with Papa. Not to stay, just to…say goodbye."
For a moment, Adam wanted to say no. There were so many complications that could arise if she went back to the village, and with that hunter dead, how would she even know if she was still welcome there? Still, as he read the pleading look on her face, he realized that she really wasn't asking for a lot. He had been the one who had taken her away from the village; he supposed it was only natural that a part of her would want to return to it. But does she have to go now? An idea suddenly came to him.
"Well of course," he said, "In fact, it may be better if I come with you."
Belle's eyes immediately lit up. "Really?" she asked.
"Yes," he scratched the back of his head uneasily, "To, um, make the wedding ceremony official. I need to get used to making public speeches anyway. Now that I'm a…a prince."
Belle looked as though Adam had just told her she was getting a brand new library for Christmas. "Well thank you!" she exclaimed, "That's very considerate of you! I'll go tell Papa!"
With that she placed a kiss on his cheek and stood up to leave. Adam couldn't help but wish he had just changed the subject when he had the chance. He was pretty sure ten years hadn't changed the fact that he hated going to villages.
