Author's Note: Again, thank you guys so much! Every review makes me smile. (: I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read this story; I never imagined it would do this well! To Anon Lily, yes, the servants are humans!
As a warning (and an apology) to all, the next two chapters will be short. I separated them where I felt it fit best, so they're a little short, but don't worry! I have the next chapters ready and in exchange for their length I'll be posting again tomorrow! Thanks to my betas. I don't own Beauty and the Beast (unfortunately)!
Hope you guys enjoy!

-Jonni Lyne

I woke up early the next morning and dressed. As I began to leave my room, my thoughts turned to Beast and I froze with my hand on the doorknob.

The speed at which he came to mind unnerved me, but I shook it off and exited my room. I was taken aback to see Beast slowly pacing the hallway outside of my room. My heart beat rapidly as he gave me a small smile.

"Beast," I said in surprise. "What are you –"

"We, uh, I thought we were getting a Christmas tree today," he said, sounding suddenly unsure of himself. My heart swelled; he had remembered!

Immediately I pushed the thought from my head and forced back the grin that threatened my face.

"I can't today," I replied, trying to sound off-hand. His face fell.

"Oh. May I ask why?"

"I – uh – Bouche was going to teach me to cook a few new things, and I'm sure Mrs. Potts would like some help sweeping the foyer again, and there are things to be dusted, and –"

Beast cut me off. "Is there no one else to do those things?"

He really wanted me to go with him, but I couldn't. To spend the day with Beast would put those disturbing thoughts back into my head.

"I really must work today," I said firmly. "After all, if I don't work, then my father's debt will never be repaid."

I turned towards the stairs as his jaw dropped; I saw his face twist from confusion to hurt to anger before I walked down the hallway.

It hurt to be cruel to Beast, but I knew it had to be done; after all, there had been truth in my remark. I was here to repay the balance my father had created, not to spend my time gallivanting with Beast. The less time I spent with him, the less attached I would become; I refused to become attached.

Before long, I was sweeping the foyer. Mrs. Potts had given me a strange look when I asked what chores I could do, but she didn't argue as she pointed me to the foyer. I moved swiftly from one task to the next, attempting to keep my mind completely preoccupied. After I swept, I moved to the hallways, dusting what little grime had accumulated. I kept my eyes planted on my work, refusing to look up for fear of spotting Beast.

I was surprised and maddened by how often he flitted to the front of my mind in spite of my efforts to drive him out. Frowning, I swatted the duster furiously and almost knocked a vase over.

How had I not noticed how involved I was becoming with him? It had to be stopped.

Bouche was surprised but seemingly flattered when I sheepishly asked him to show me how to cook something.

"Of course, mademoiselle. I was planning on making boudin blanc for dinner; perhaps we can whip up some eclairsfor dessert." He immediately began showing me what spicess would be used for the sausage. Soon I was busy rolling and seasoning the meat; I found that I was enjoying cooking. Though I had made all of the meals for Papa and me, I had never had access to real spices or meat as expensive as I wagered Bouche's was.

"Where do you get your food from, Bouche?" I wondered aloud.

"There is a town about an hour's walk southwest of here," he answered. "That is where we do all of our shopping. I go to survey the food; Lumiere usually goes with me to help carry it back here."

There was a town so close to the mansion? It was even closer than my hometown. I paused, pursing my lips. If there was a town so close to this large of a manor, surely the townspeople must know about Beast's existence.

"Bouche," I began, trying to decide how best to word my question. "Don't the people of this town – well, don't they know about Beast?" I glanced up in time to see Bouche frown over the sauce he was stirring.

"They – they do not know about the master," he said. "No one from that town – or any, for that matter – has been here in more than five years."

"So they have been here in the past?" I pressed. Bouche shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes," he allowed slowly. "In the past, we had visitors."

"What happened?"

"Ah, mademoiselle," he said with a soft sigh, "I am afraid that it is not my place to tell that tale."

"Is it because of Beast?" I asked, my curiosity piquing and drowning out my desire not to think of him. There was a pregnant pause.

"It – well, yes," he said finally. "But please, mademoiselle, no more questions." I turned back to the meat grudgingly.

I mulled over what Bouche had said silently. Something happened a few years ago, involving Beast, that made visitors stop coming. The thought of Beast ever having visitors was an odd one; the only explanation was that Beast hadn't – hadn't always been a beast. I frowned; that didn't make any sense.

Though honestly, I allowed with a sigh, nothing about Beast made any sense. I slammed the meat roughly on the counter in frustration. Not only did I have no idea what happened to Beast, but I had allowed him to, once again, occupy my thoughts.

A short while later, Bouche and I sat at the table in the kitchen eating baguettes he had baked. Lumiere burst through the door and helped himself to one; after he swallowed a bite, he smiled at me.

"You are looking wonderful today, mademoiselle," he said with a wink. I smiled, knowing full well that I was a sweaty mess. "Where is the master?" he went on.

"I don't know," I said coolly, picking at my baguette. "I am not his keeper." Lumiere's smile hardly faltered.

"I meant no disrespect, mademoiselle. It is just strange to see you without him!"

My cheeks burned and my eyes flashed.

"I am working," I said indignantly. "What Be- the master does is no concern of mine." This time, the grin slid off of Lumiere's face. He eyed me curiously and gave a small bow.

"I apologize, mademoiselle. I did not mean to imply anything." I finished my baguette in a silent fury.

Why would Lumiere assume I knew where Beast was? Had we spent that much time together recently? I groaned. I was here to work for Beast. I thought about how I must look to the other members of the house; they must think I was a – a floozy!

I wolfed down my supper in the kitchen as soon as it was cooked; the boudin burned the roof of my mouth. As I was scraping the last bit of food off of my plate, Mrs. Potts bustled in.

"Oh, Belle," she said, giving me a disparaging look. "The master was looking for you. Am I to assume that there has been a change in your eating arrangements?" I gaped at her for a moment before replying.

"I just – I don't feel very well, Mrs. Potts, so I thought it would be better if I just ate quickly and went to bed. I mean, it might be contagious, and I – "

"Belle, there's no need to make excuses," Mrs. Potts said; her tone could have passed for nonchalant, but I knew better. "If you don't feel well, get on to bed then." I hurried from the kitchen, trying to avoid her judgmental stare. I half-ran to my room, desperate to be alone.

I hoped that I could fall asleep quickly, but my mind fought me. I couldn't stop thinking of Beast and of the reproachful look Mrs. Potts had given me.

I'm not doing anything wrong, I thought heatedly. I had done what I was here to do today, what I had stayed in Papa's place for. I had never agreed to spend time with Beast, or be his friend, or care about him. Punching my pillow, I turned onto my side and squeezed my eyes tightly shut, wishing for sleep.

I had almost fallen into a relieved sleep when a knock on my door made me jump. Begrudgingly I made my way to the door and flung it open; my jaw dropped when I saw Beast looming over me. His face was set; he swallowed hard and then smiled weakly at me.

"Do you want to play a game of chess?" he blurted before I could say anything. I touched the doorframe and frowned.

"I'm not feeling well," I lied. Beast's smile faltered, but he set his face resolutely again.

"I brought a book," he continued, brandishing one at me. "If you don't feel well, maybe I could read to you? Or you could just read on your own, and I could sit with you? I mean, is there anything you need?" I pressed my lips together tightly before responding.

"I'm fine," I said slowly. "I'm just going to go to bed."

"At least take the book, then," he insisted. "I know you love to read."

"No, thank you," I said shortly. Beast's face fell before twisting slightly in anger.

"Fine," he said before he turned and stalked down the hallway. I slammed the door behind him and sat on my bed, trying to keep from feeling guilty.

There was nothing wrong with my not wanting to spend every second of my day with Beast.

Confused and irritated all at once, I forced myself to lie silently until I fell asleep.