This part has been highly awaited by many: it's the self-loathing. Because yes, there's a small little part inside of you that wants to see Adam totally crushed by his own hatred for himself and the terrible actions he inflicted upon others that he had no knowledge of doing and yet he will be haunted by until the end of time.

Just me? Okay.

DISCLAIMER: Almost to the end, nothing except Eliese.

A soft rap on the door came, and it was so inaudible that he could barely hear it though the piles of tear-stained bed sheets and pillows he was buried under. He didn't have to mention a word to let whoever was outside in, because the door automatically opened on its own without his permission (and not like he cared anymore). The footsteps by the entrance were unrecognisable until their owner spoke up. Even then it was hard to identify who it was.

"Master?" Lumière spoke timidly; he was probably still apprehensive being around him, but he couldn't be blamed for his fearful behaviour. "I was asked to check on you."

"I'm…fine," he lied, and his tone didn't help either; not that he was concerned. "How's your back?"

There was a sound of a nervous chuckle. "So Madame Potts has told you everything…?"

He winced internally; the terrible deeds flashing through his mind like as a sudden burst of guilt shot up his spine. "Everything."

There was an awkward pause. Adam didn't want to come out from behind his blankets, unwilling to see the face of the servant that he threw into the buffet table during that Christmas dinner, who he had badmouthed and humiliated in front of a hundred esteemed guests in front of his own wedding just a day ago.

"Why are you here?" he finally asked. "Has Cogsworth told the staff of the announcement I instructed him to make?"

There was silence on Lumière's end for a while. "Yes, Master."

Adam grimaced on the inside and felt the tears begin to well up again at the corners of his eyes. Earlier within the day, he had asked Cogsworth to relay a message to all of the castle staff, apologising for his misconduct against them and their feelings, and that should anyone wish to resign from his services, no judgment should fall upon them and they were free to leave at any time.

"How many have left?" Adam asked, bracing himself for the large number that was to leave Lumière's mouth (and, truth be told, he wouldn't be surprised if Lumière was part of that number either).

He heard the maître d' sigh. "No one, Master."

That surely made him blink his tears away in disbelief more than anything. Getting up from his bed, he pushed the covers away, and the blinding light of the midmorning hit his tired eyes through his windowpanes, shining upon the new reality that was now his life. Despite all that had happened, the servants' faith in him still stood as strong?

"No…one?" the words came out of him hushed and quiet.

"No one."

It was this that gave him enough courage to sit and stare at his jar of roses in the corner of the room, a gift from the Enchantress before this entire disaster, whose vibrancy had never faded even for a day. The fact that the staff of his castle decided to stay with him even during those hard times, endure the torture that he inflicted upon them, the names that he called them, the insults and the impossible tasks he handed them with just to see them writhe, all while they had to suffer the terrible cruelty that had gripped him without his control…

"We have stayed with you through one curse, Master," he heard the mirth of Lumière's smile through his speech, closer now. "We will stay with you through a thousand more."

Standing up on his shaky legs, he faced Lumière, the tears already rolling down his cheeks as his hands shook uncontrollably. Seeing him there in a simple suit with his coiffed lopsided wig and pencil moustache, with the smile on his face, made him want to collapse onto the floor and punish himself for even laying his eyes upon the maître d'. But Lumière—the ever-patient, ever-loving Lumière—threw out his arms as he began to stride towards the Prince, and all Adam could do was throw himself at his servant, hugging him close and sobbing into his arms. He cried hard, bitter tears of anguish, and despite thinking that he had exhausted all of his negative feelings and emotions, he was wrong, for he had never felt this much melancholy pour out of him in his life—not when his mother died, not when the curse was first put upon him, not even when Belle left him that night they danced. He held onto Lumière tight, like he was still a naïve boy, fearing the day he and all the other servants were to let him go.

He didn't deserve their kindness. He knew he had been the most petty and flamboyant of hedonists, and he knew how badly he had hurt them or hated them back when he was a young man, back when pleasure was the only true goal in life. And to put them through those terrible experiences again, to an even worse extent…it couldn't have been easier for them. And yet they still had that heart of compassion, of pure and utter love for him, something he always wish he had.

"Oh, Lumière, I…I'm so sorry…" he sobbed as the maître d' sat him down gently on the bed and he placed himself next to his Prince.

Lumière held his shoulder tenderly and gave a smile that was just as pleasant as his touch. "We will never leave you, Master. Even after all that you have done and all you will do, we will always remain by your side. Just as she did for y—"

Lumière interrupted himself by clamping his hands around his mouth, shocked at the words that left him. Of course, Adam's expression only worsened, and he closed his eyes and tightened his lips into a thin line, trying to prevent the horrible feeling to wash over him again.

"Master…" Lumière's disposition fell, and he bowed his head. "My apologies, I—"

He was stopped as Adam took a deep breath of air and tried to calm himself down. After a long moment of silence, he shut his eyes as if in meditation, clenching his own hands so tight that the maître d' was afraid he was going to draw blood if ever he pressed his fingernails too hard into his palm.

"No, don't, Lumière, it's—" and Adam stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's fine, you…you didn't mean to bring it up."

He could already tell from Lumière's voice that he could recognise that he was anything but fine. "As you say."

There was a very uncomfortable silence. He could feel the tension of Lumière's side of the conversation, and he had to alleviate it, one way or another. He had to be honest with his servant; sure, Lumière more than trusted him at this point, but he felt inadequate, as if their word of loyalty wasn't enough. He had to feel that he gained their respect and gratitude back. It was about time that the gap between them should close, and if not now, then when? Besides, Lumière had seen him at his weakest moments, as did most of the servants: the death of his mother, the reprimands of his father, those lonely nights when he was waist-deep in alcohol and women's lingerie and would wake up in the morning asking himself what he was to do with his temporary existence.

He had to hear himself say it. He had to face the fears and sorrows he was running away from head-on, in the company of someone he cared about.

"If…If only I knew…" he muttered, sure that Lumière could hear him. "If only I knew that I was under a curse…I could have broken it myself…and Belle wouldn't have…she wouldn't have…oh, God…"

And he covered his mouth with a hand, allowing the tears to fall down his face instead of him fighting them back, as he was more accustomed to doing. He felt Lumière rub his shoulder comfortingly, and the fact that a man he was mistreating for the past days was still by his side made him cry even more.

"Please, Master, it's alright," he cooed very paternally. "Let it out, come now."

"I…I loved her, oh God…" he sobbed, his chest aching with such aggressive pining that the more he sobbed, the more it hurt. "And I was such an offensive idiot to her, an indecorous fool. She must have hated me for all that I did…I broke her heart…"

"But Master," Lumière leaned forward, a sad smile in his words, "if she didn't love you, she wouldn't have done what she did."

He wiped away his tears, his eyes red from sobbing too hard. "I promised her that when I learned the truth, I had to forgive myself, but…forgiving myself was never this hard…"

"That wasn't you," Lumière frowned. "The man who shattered a tea cup at Madame Potts' face, that wasn't you. The man who threw me across the dining table, that wasn't you. The man who abused the mademoiselle, who called her names and evicted her from this place, that was never you."

Adam sniffed back his tears, so Lumière continued.

"You love her, do you not? You may consider yourself many things, Master, good or bad, but I know one thing for sure—you love her. And whoever that imposter was, whoever that…beast was, it was not you."

"Then who else would it have been?" Adam hissed, getting increasingly angry at himself.

"Whoever it was, it was not your fault, Master," Lumière consoled. "Even if you had broken the curse by yourself, you did not chose to inflict it as your own punishment."

There was a pause from Adam's end again. But it lasted much longer than normal to cause the maître d' to worry. It was almost as if he had been comforting a porcelain wall, unmoving and silent.

"Master?" Lumière asked and tried to lock eyes with him, but his head was bowed.

"You know, Lumière," Adam said, his voice suddenly colder. "You're right."

Lumière piqued up nervously. "About what?"

"About it not being my fault." He straightened up his posture, wiping away the last of the tears on his face, which now wore such an unreadable expression that bordered on emotionlessness, so much so that Lumière was afraid he had said something wrong. "Is Eliese still there?"

So he was moping about that. "Yes, Master. She's still in the upper tower."

There was a silence, then a sigh. "Please take me to her, Lumière."

Lumière grew apprehensive from that. "A-Are you sure, Master? Because we can totally understand it if—"

"Don't worry, Lumière, I'll be altight," Adam replied, and it didn't seem to matter if Lumière thought he was lying or not. "Just…take me to her. I've been thinking of what to say to her for quite a while and I may have just now found the words."

Lumière bit his lip, but there was nothing he could do anymore to prevent the Prince from feeling more dejected any further; he was plunging himself into his own hell, and as much as he'd want him out of it, he wouldn't want to disappoint him further. "Yes, Master."

He remembered the pathway up the dungeons clear, and remembered Belle's cell as being the first place he had ever laid eyes upon her. Now, it was no more than another terrible place in the palace, haunted by memories of what had been. So, with the timid Lumière following behind him, imagine his surprise to clamber up the stairs, tired, fatigued, wanting to punch the world in the face and rip it apart with his fingernails, only to find a hooded figure slouched over the cell that he intended to visit.

"You…" he whispered, and the figure immediately turned around, revealing the face of a beautiful woman with blonde hair and sorrow-filled golden eyes.

"Yes, me," she replied, not even stopping to pull down her hood, standing upright. She continued to walk past him until she was facing down the staircase, her shoulder brushing his, her touch warm and yet terrifying. "It's because of me she's like this now."

He froze in place, looking beyond the bars of the cell to find Eliese, dressed in simple white clothing now stained with the soot of the dungeon and strands of hay, her magnificent blonde hair now matted and knotted, shaking and covering her face as she pushed herself into the corner. She looked like one of those lunatics at the Asylum D'Loons, no more like a Princess of a foreign country.

"What have you done to her?" Adam asked, afraid to lock eyes with the hooded figure.

"I stripped her of her powers," the hood replied. "She's of no threat to you now, unless you make her one."

He stayed silent, wondering if it was still possible for him to find an ounce of compassion in his heart. But then there was that voice of a stern royal, saying that since she showed none to his heart, to the servants, to Belle, then it would be normal that he would do the same. The world was cruel, and without Belle now, what was the point of happiness?

"I'll be in the landing," the hooded figure continued. "I would greatly appreciate it if you would talk to me once you're finished with her."

And before he could say another word, she continued down the staircase, making Lumière bow at her as she passed by and disappeared behind the cold stone columns. With her gone, he focused his attention on the cell, and walked carefully towards the cold bars and made sure his footsteps made no sound on the wet floors. The door wasn't even locked, and he swung it open with ease, but even as he was soundless, he still ended up stirring the poor captive inside. She looked up with her inquisitive eyes, which, being drained of their magical properties, were now a dull hazel in comparison to the vibrant pink that haunted his dreams.

"So you've come," her words sounded like a relieved sigh rather than a full sentence, almost as if he was her rescuer and she was in this cell for decades. "Thank God…I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

"You're still right about that," he said, a blank expression on her face, and seemed to wipe the smile right off her.

She got up a little from her sitting position, her back upright against the cold stone walls as she looked downcast at the floors. "What else is there to say, meine Geliebter? I have nothing more to admit to you. You know the truth now, don't you?"

He nodded. "I know. I know everything…what I'd done, what you'd done, what she'd done for me."

At the mention of the feminine pronoun, Eliese seemed to shrink. She pulled her knees up to her face and curled herself into a ball, try as she might to hide from his gaze. The rage was already bubbling in his throat, and he was fighting every urge not to grab a rapier and plunge it through her sternum.

"Why?" he said. It was a simple syllable that left him, but it was enough to elicit the feeling of grief again.

"Why?" she echoed back, almost incredulously, if not for her position. "Because I love you."

He could almost laugh, and a thousand screams pushed their way to his tongue. He was quick not to let his temper get the best of him, however. "Whatever you did, whatever you inflicted upon this place, upon myself and the people who live here…that wasn't an act of love. That was an act of the highest form of selfishness and greed."

"How could that possibly be selfishness and greed?" she spat back, suddenly retaliating. "I loved you and I sacrificed so much for it. To violate the code that my kind followed, to defy all of the rules that defined my conduct."

"And yet you wanted me," he retorted. "You wanted me, and so much people suffered for it. Me, my staff…Belle." Je seemed to have difficulty even saying the name.

"Oh, her," Eliese sneered.

"It was part of the curse that she would pass, wasn't it?" he gritted his teeth; the anger was starting to seethe through his calm. "It was part of your convoluted plan, or whatever you chose to call it."

She stared him straight in the eye, and he still felt the smallest grips of fear take him once her irises narrowed. "I knew that if I can't have you, then no one else will."

"I cannot believe you!" he screamed; he was falling into incredulous thoughts, probably to mask his denial. "Someone who I loved so dearly died…died for me to talk to you like this—as myself—and I can't believe that you would go to those lengths for your own selfish wants!"

"But I love you!" she shouted, all of her energy going into those four words that she knelt on the floor, and the sounds of her sorrow echoed throughout the whole tower.

Adam couldn't help but stay silent at that as she sobbed. In some eerily common way, Belle and Eliese weren't that far from the same mind. They both fought for the things they loved, even if it would cost them everything: their power, their influence, and their lives. Perhaps he simply reciprocated Belle's feelings, or he loved her too much for words, maybe that her intentions were pure and for the greater good, and that's why he leaned more towards her definition of love, whereas that of Eliese was one twisted into sick madness and obsession in his eyes.

"Whatever you feel for me," he recited carefully, "it isn't love. I've known love, however brief, and I'm blessed to know what it feels like. And this…this isn't it."

She curled up, spilling her tears onto the cold floors. The welling feeling in his chest wasn't pity, he was sure, but there was something in him that ate at his already broken heart. Maybe it was because his thoughts were still hung up on Belle, and that he was willing to live the rest of his life respecting her memory, but he turned his back, exited the cell, and left the door open.

"You're free to go," he said with his back turned to her.

"Wh…What?" she said weakly from behind him.

"You heard me," he repeated, turning a little to see her crouching figure, her ruined blonde hair, simple clothing, and sad eyes—a far cry from the confident and beautiful figure that walked through his doors how many weeks ago. "You're free to go. I won't keep you prisoner, and I have no reason to either. I only have one condition: that you don't come back to this estate, or even to the village of Villeneuve, and to not interfere with the lives of any soul and cause any harm to them on your leave."

There was a sound of shuffling. "Why? Why show mercy?"

He paused, not wanting to say the reason, but he did so anyway. "Because I know that it's what Belle would have wanted me to do."

They both stayed silent for a while, until he heard a pained wail come from where she stood.

"Leave," he said finally. "Leave and learn to do some good in the world."

He was out of words to say to her, and didn't want to see her face anymore. With that, he left her alone in the cell to do whatever she wanted to do, whether she wanted to leave or live the rest of her life there. He had run out of rage and sorrow to feel, and even looking at her only drained him of any other emotion even further. To cut Eliese off from his life…yes, that would be the first step to recovering from all of this. He had to, eventually, unless he wanted to be stuck in this rut for the rest of his life.

As he walked down the stairs, he passed by Lumière, and he didn't even bat an eye and let out his command without missing a beat. "Lumière, I've told her that she could leave on her own volition. Whatever she chooses to do, do not interfere or even speak to her. Relay this to the others as well."

"Yes, Master," Lumière bowed quickly and ran up the stairs, and Adam was too tired to even watch him go.

But further down the stairs, on the landing, he caught the shape of a hooded figure, against the wall, her well-shaped hands clasped in front of her as she turned to look at him. What was is that she was called…Agathe? Either way, he must admit: no matter what type of sorrow that she would inflict upon his life, unlike Eliese, she was an Enchantress that held good intentions. Her spells and incantations had a better purpose, to make a person a kinder and more compassionate version of themselves. He didn't know what to feel, looking at those golden eyes that inflicted the first curse he experienced in his life; should he be angry that she caused that suffering, or should he be indebted to her for something else?

"I told you I'd wait," she greeted him on the landing as he stepped onto it. "How do you feel now?"

"I feel…" he stopped himself; what did he even feel? "Empty, or something of the like. Even seeing her makes me feel awful."

The Enchantress sighed. "It's such a shame. Hanneliese had so much potential to do good in the world, but she was too young and prone to so much…mistakes. It was hard for me to do what I had to do; she was like a sister to me."

He didn't really understand the relationship between the more experienced Enchantress and Eliese, but he was assured that it must have been painful for her to see her there in that cell, rotting away. "I'm sorry…it was probably difficult for you to visit her."

She shook her head slowly. "It was, but never mind that now. She suffers the consequences of her actions, and I am only here to accomplish reckoning."

Neither of them said anything for a while, and he was too fatigued to be able to take into consideration the rift the silence was causing for them.

"I'm sorry as well," she said finally.

"For what?" he asked absentmindedly.

"For Belle," she bowed her head. "She didn't have to go like that. It's such a tragedy, what happened to her. If only I could do more for you and for her, but sadly, even I have my limits. I apologise greatly, Your Highness."

He felt the tears well up in his eyes again. "I know, it's alright. You took care of Eliese, and though it must have been excruciating, your sacrifice matters and that's enough for me."

"That's true," she muttered and gave off a sad smile. "Thank you."

"If anything," Adam suddenly let the words spill; it wasn't that he cared, but he wanted her to know the truth, "I should be thanking you."

She tilted her head curiously. "Whatever for?"

"It may sound ridiculous, but for cursing me," he admitted. "For turning me into a beast. It may have caused me hardship and so much ache, but without it, I wouldn't be the person I am today. And I wouldn't have met…her. For that, I feel like I should owe anything to you, for bringing her into my life. For a while, I felt what true love was, and it's all because of you."

Her smile lit up a little and she gave a small bow. "Those words greatly humble me, Your Highness. But you chose to love her, you chose to let her into your life and change you, and I feel that's what matters." She lifted her head and put a warm hand on his shoulder; it was a touch that he didn't expect he needed. "I know you're a good man, and if anything, you are right to feel thankful for her presence in her life, even if she's no longer with us. You truly have changed; I feel I've done right by you."

"You have," he smiled, and it was the first time he had smiled in a long time. "By God, I'm grateful."

And he approached her, embracing her tight as she wrapped her arms around him. He never knew that he needed her kindness, but here he was, already crying in her arms as she leaned into their hug, tender and warm. He felt the compassion of a mother within her, the gentle intentions and caring sympathy that he had longed for ever since, and he felt like a child as she patted his back, held him close. It was a touch that already begun the process of mending his broken heart.