Adam and Belle joined Vincent in his ornate carriage and soon were riding through the woods again; past gnarly trees and dense underbrush. It wasn't long before the forest began to thin out into a luscious meadow. In the distance stood a great castle with pointed spires and grey walls that harkened back to ancient times of war. It was nowhere as large or as impressive looking as Adam's old chateau, but stunning to look at, nonetheless.

When they arrived at the main gates, Samuel announced himself to the guards, who let him pass through without question. The three passengers dismounted the carriage and entered the castle's main atrium. There, they were greeted by a stern-looking housekeeper with dark skin and a tall, imposing figure.

"You're late," she said, putting her hands on her hips as she surveyed Vincent with judgmental eyes.

"I'm… dreadfully sorry, Madame," Vincent replied, bowing nervously. "A wheel on my carriage broke when I was riding through Calmetertre, and I had to stop for repairs. I also ran into two travellers when I was passing through the woods. This is my cousin, Thomas-Alexandre Comte de Droitebrume, and his companion, Mademoiselle Belle Gagnier."

"Hmm." The housekeeper gave Belle and Adam an inquisitive looking over. "It's very improper to bring outsiders into a castle without an invitation. Still, it's not my place to say who gets admitted into my masters' household and who doesn't. Have a seat in the salon. The Princess will be with you shortly."

She led them into a room off the main atrium which was decorated with a crystal chandelier and several handsomely crafted pieces of furniture. Not wanting to dirty the armchairs with his wet clothes, Adam elected to stand in a corner as he waited for the Princess to make her appearance. To his surprise, Belle and Vincent decided to do the same.

A few minutes passed before Amandine entered the room. She was just as regal and refined as Adam last remembered her, dressed in a peach-coloured gown with a floral print on her bodice and skirt. Her long brown hair was tied into a sleek half bun.

"Duke Vincent," she said, addressing Adam's cousin with an enthusiastic smile. "It's such a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness," Vincent replied with a bow. Adam imitated the gesture. At the corner of his eye, he was pleased to see Belle curtsey. At least the girl isn't completely without manners.

"But you've arrived so late," Amandine continued, lifting her brows in concern. "I was beginning to worry that you'd lost your way or decided to defer my invitation."

"Nothing would ever stop me from seeing you, Princess," Vincent replied, an uncharacteristically dreamy expression upon his face. "Ahem… for the purpose of celebrating your birthday, that is! But I did get sidetracked a couple of times." He gestured to Adam. "This is my cousin… what do you call yourself now anyway? Thomas? Adam?"

"Adam."

"Right. My cousin, Adam, Comte de Droitebrume," Vincent said importantly. "And this is his lady friend, Mademoiselle Belle Gagnier."

"Good evening, Princess," Adam said with another bow. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but we are in desperate need of your help. My brother, King Gaston, has set a bounty on me and Mademoiselle Gagnier for offending his fragile ego. He's sent his guards all over the country to arrest and possibly kill us, simply because we disagreed with his forceful leadership methods. I am asking—no, begging—for your permission to stay at your castle until his men have cleared the area."

Amandine didn't answer at first. Her attention turned from Adam to Belle, who looked every bit a mess now that her dress was torn, and she was missing one of her shoes.

"Mademoiselle Gagnier!" she said in alarm. "What happened to your clothes?"

"Oh, this?" Belle fidgeted with her skirt, a flustered expression appearing on her face. "It's nothing really. We—that is, the Count and I—were chased by bandits in the woods and had to take a detour through the river."

"Through?" Amandine repeated in confusion. "What do you mean 'through?'"

"The bandits chased us out to a cliff," Belle explained with the same nervous expression. Adam didn't blame her… she probably wasn't used to being the center of attention, especially before royalty. "And because there was no easy way of getting past them, we had to jump into the river to escape. That's how we ended up here."

"My goodness." Amandine raised a hand to her mouth in surprise. "That sounds positively dangerous! Why were those bandits chasing you to begin with?"

"They were trying to hand me over to King Gaston for a reward," she replied uncomfortably. "See, His Majesty approached me a week ago to ask me to become one of his courtesans. When I refused, he tried to force me into saying yes by arresting my father. Only my father escaped, so his only other option was to take me by force. If Comte Adam hadn't found me and rescued me from the bandits, I would probably be a prisoner myself right now."

Adam glanced over at Belle in disbelief. Was that gratitude he was hearing, from the same girl who'd scoffed at his gallantry less than an hour ago?

Princess Amandine considered Belle's story; hands clasped together in thought. "Geneviève," she said aloud.

In stepped the stern housekeeper Adam had met in the foyer earlier. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Prepare two more bedchambers for our guests, please. And get them both some clean clothes while you're at it."

"Absolutely, Your Highness." Geneviève curtsied and exited the salon.

"Yes, of course you can stay here," Amandine said, turning back to Adam and Belle. "A King Gaston may be, but he is no friend of ours. I'm sorry that you got involved in such a dreadful mess. It's appalling to think that a man with so much influence would use his crown to separate an innocent family and put a bounty on his own brother."

"He was never my brother. Not really," Adam corrected. "Just an orphaned peasant boy that my father groomed into taking my place."

"Then why not challenge him to your right to the throne?" Vincent suggested. "It's not like anyone would miss him anyway. He has terrible manners and clearly isn't very popular amongst his subjects. I'd fight by your side any day."

Adam looked at his cousin sheepishly. "I… appreciate your support, Vincent, but I'm not sure if that's the best idea."

"Why not?"

The Duke tilted his head curiously, while Belle observed the change in conversation with an amused expression. She was clearly waiting for Adam to crack, but there was no way he would give her the satisfaction—not after the way she'd ridiculed him back at the riverbank.

"Because well… have you seen his armies?" he said instead. "King Gaston has endless resources and an army of trained guards to boot. Even if I did get past his defenses and attack his castle, there are servants there that I've known since my childhood. If some harm were to come to them because of me, I could never forgive myself. I agree that something must be done, but it must be done discreetly and tactfully."

"Well, that sounds fine and all," said Vincent, crossing his arms, "if you think your subjects are willing to wait that long."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. It's just that, after hearing Mademoiselle Gagnier's story, I have to wonder how many other citizens are suffering from King Gaston's tyranny, too," he elaborated. "What if they grow impatient? What if they start to question why it took so long for you to act, or if you really have the kingdom's best interests at heart? If I were you, I'd want to do something to gain their trust, sooner rather than later."

"I'm no war expert, but I believe that a rebellion of any kind requires some sort of planning," Amandine added thoughtfully. "Perhaps this is something we could talk about tomorrow, after my birthday celebration?"

"Of course, Your Highness," Vincent obliged. "Which reminds me… is your father still awake? I was hoping to give him my regards."

"Unfortunately, he's away in Italy for the next two weeks," Amandine replied, looking mildly disappointed by this unexpected turn of events. "He's left me in charge of the household in his absence. I admit that I'm a bit nervous. I've never hosted my own birthday party before."

"You'll do a fine job," Vincent said instantly. "You are one of the most honest, intelligent and genial princesses that I know. As long as you act yourself, no one will say a bad word about you or your party. I guarantee it."

Although the room was dimly lit, Adam could still see the blush on Amandine's cheeks as she smiled politely and looked back at his cousin. "Thank you, Your Grace. That's very kind of you to say."

Later that night, Adam sat on the bed of one of Amandine's guest rooms, wearing a clean nightshirt that smelt faintly of lemons.

Agathon's satchel was still wet from the river and would have to be discarded. Adam made a mental note to ask a servant for a new one before he headed out again. But on the upside, at least the magic mirror and the amulet were still intact. He laid them out on the bedside table and examined them closely.

The amulet was no larger than his palm and hung like a necklace from a thin black string. It was circular in shape and glistened with overlapping hues of green and yellow. Adam had never seen such an unusually-coloured stone before, and vaguely wondered if it was natural, or if its magical properties made it look the way it did. His younger self would have loved to have added a trinket like this to his collection, but right now, he was happy just to use it as a key out of this crazy reality he'd created.

He placed the amulet in a drawer and turned his attention to the mirror. To his surprise, a white light was glowing from the underside where the reflection was. "Prince Adam?" a voice whispered. "Are you there?"

Adam turned over the mirror. Bearing down at him through the glass was an unflattering image of Agathon's face. It was impossible to know where the Enchanter was exactly, for his surroundings were very dark. Harsh shadows covered his nose and forehead, making him appear more ghost than human.

"Agathon?" Adam said in astonishment.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Agathon sighed in relief. "I've been trying to reach you for the past two hours and got nothing. Are you safe?"

"Yes," Adam confirmed. "Belle and I are spending the night at—"

"Shh!" He hissed. "Don't tell me where you are! She might be listening."

"She?"

"Aye. Do you remember how my barrier spell came undone in the clearing? Well, that was from no ordinary gust of wind. Gaston has an enchantress working for him now, and she's one that you want to stay clear of at all costs. Her name is Médée; the most sadistic sorceress to grace this side of France in the past century."

"Brilliant," Adam said with a sarcastic drawl. "Just when I thought I couldn't get any more popular. Can you at least confirm that she's not planning to turn me into a beast?"

"I wish I could pass along the good news, but unfortunately, I'm just as clueless to her intentions as you are," Agathon replied. "All I know is that Médée's alliance with the King is very strange. For years she was notorious for using her magic to torture humans for sport, not ally herself with them. About fifteen years ago, the council tried to arrest her for killing a family of farmers in Pontfranc. My sister was a witness and was supposed to testify against her during her trial. Except—"

"—I'd already killed her?" Adam finished.

"Correct. And since the council had no other evidence, they were forced to clear Médée of all her charges. No one's seen head or tail of her since. Not until today at least."

Adam shuddered. Until now, he'd assumed that Agathe's death had only made him lose his throne to Gaston. Now he had a rogue enchantress to deal with, one with a history of murdering and torturing humans for fun. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse. "You mentioned that she might be listening in on us," he continued. "Why is that?"

"Maybe you can't see it from the mirror, but I'm currently serving time in your 'charming' brother's castle," Agathon explained, gesturing to his shadowy surroundings. "After you fled into the woods, Médée came marching into my clearing with the King's guards, demanding that I tell her where you were going, and why I'd been helping you. Of course, I didn't tell her squat. So then she got angry and locked me in the dungeons for being a traitor to the crown."

Adam's face softened in guilt. "I'm very sorry." It shamed him to think that he'd put another person's life in danger, all because of his own recklessness.

"Hey, no harm done." Agathon grinned. "This isn't the first time I've been locked in prison against my will. Médée may be a powerful enchantress, but her barrier spells are sloppy to say the least. It will take a few days to break out of the defenses she's put around my cell, but certainly not impossible."

"Oh. Well, that's good to hear," said Adam, sobering slightly. "Could you use your magic to spy on Médée and Gaston in the meantime and figure out what they're planning?"

"I would, but it appears that Médée's already two steps ahead of me," Agathon explained. "She's put a cloaking spell on herself and the King, so no one can eavesdrop on either of them. You can try for yourself if you like."

Adam held the magic mirror aloft. "Show me Gaston," he demanded.

Darkness filled the glass and nothing more. There was no pompous King in sight; not even a hint of his booming voice to indicate where he was or what he might be doing.

"You see?" Agathon forced his image back into the mirror. "As long as that spell is in effect, spying on Médée and King Gaston will be next to impossible."

"Hold on," Adam interjected. "If you can use your magic to see me, does that mean that Médée can see me too?"

"No." Agathon shook his head. "I put my own cloaking spell on you, Belle and Maurice the moment you arrived at my cottage. No one can see you or trace your whereabouts—no one you consider to be your enemy, at least. If Gaston and Médée want to find you, then they'll have to do so by non-magical means. I wouldn't get too comfortable though. That spell wears off in a week, so you'll need to move fast if you want to get to your destination in time."

"I understand." Adam nodded. "There's just one small problem. Belle is here with me. She was separated from her father in the woods, and I promised I'd help her find him. Except… I have no idea where to start looking."

"Do you have a magic mirror or not?" Agathon snapped. "Maurice is perfectly safe. Just talk to the mirror and you'll see for yourself. Or even better, show it to Belle if it will put her mind at ease."

"What?!" Adam exclaimed. "That's preposterous! I can't just waltz over to Belle and show her the mirror. Then she'll know—"

"—the truth?" Agathon raised his brows inquisitively. "Is that really such a bad thing? Look, Your Highness. I know how you feel about Belle. And I know that you want to hide your past from her to protect her and compensate for all the bad mistakes you made in your other timelines. But you forget, this is no ordinary peasant girl we're talking about. This is a girl who would have barged straight into King Gaston's castle to free her father if I hadn't intervened. She's got more nerve and brains in her than some men combined. And sooner or later, she's going to figure you out. I wouldn't be surprised if she's starting to put the pieces together already. Why hide what's already inevitable?"

"Because…" Adam hesitated. "There are too many risks. If she gets captured and tells Gaston the truth about me, I'll be ruined. She might get hurt. She might…" Start seeing me as a friend instead of an enemy.

"There's always going to be risks involved in this sort of thing," Agathon agreed. "But you may find the benefits outweigh the dangers. If you gave her the chance, Belle could be a very useful ally."

There was a sudden echo of heavy footfalls coming from behind Agathon's cell. He looked tensely towards the noise, then turned back to Adam. "Sounds like the guards are coming back up to start their patrol. We should end our conversation now before they get suspicious."

"Wait," said Adam. "What do I tell Belle about her father?"

"That decision is yours to make, Your Highness," Agathon replied. "You do what you feel is necessary. Just remember, mirror or no mirror, you only have a week to put an end to King Gaston's regime. So use your time wisely, and no dilly-dallying! We'll talk again once I've broken out of Médée's defenses. Bonne nuit."

Agathon's image faded away, leaving Adam's uncertain reflection staring back at him from the glass.

He set down the mirror and contemplated the Enchanter's suggestion. In many ways, it would be so much easier to go to sleep, say nothing to Belle and keep playing the role of an honourless prince. He was sure that Belle would find her father eventually; regardless of whether he showed her the mirror or not. That wasn't his problem to worry about, was it?

The fact that he couldn't say yes to his own question made him nervous. He remembered how heartbroken Belle had been at the riverbank when she'd realized that she'd lost her father a second time. It was the same heartbreak he'd seen in her after their first dance, and after she'd made the decision to take her father's place as prisoner. No matter what reality Adam travelled to, Belle's love for Maurice remained constant. She probably wouldn't get any sleep tonight, too busy worrying about where he was, or if he was still alive. Adam couldn't leave her in the dark like that. Not anymore. He cared about her too much to ignore her pain.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the mirror and stood up from the bed.

Belle was staying in the room across from the Count's. He knocked on her door and waited. A part of him wished that she wouldn't answer because then he could back out of this awkward conversation before he regretted it. If she was already asleep, then she wouldn't even know that he'd tried to talk to her. But then he heard the floor creak, followed by Belle's wary voice behind the door asking, "Who's there?"

"It's me," Adam replied uneasily. "Adam."

Belle opened the door. She had changed out of her ripped pinafore dress, into a dark blue negligée that modestly covered the nightgown she was wearing underneath. Her hair was woven into a thick braid that stopped just a few inches past her shoulders.

Upon seeing the Count, her eyes narrowed into a dark scowl. "Don't they teach royals manners? This is hardly an appropriate time to be calling on a young, unmarried woman."

Adam's cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. Of course he was aware of the implications of visiting Belle so late at night. But this was urgent. Maybe he had imagined being intimate with her on a few occasions, but certainly not like this. "Look... I would never dream of doing anything to hurt your honour, Mademoiselle," he promised. "I'm here because I have some information about your father's whereabouts. If you let me in, I'll be happy to share with you all I know."

Belle considered Adam with the same suspicious glance. She clenched her jaw like he was a challenging math equation she was trying to solve. Then, admitting defeat, she opened the door to let him in.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered once he stepped into the room, closing the door behind them. "Well, go on then. What have you learned about my father?"

Adam wordlessly showed her the mirror. Belle took one look at it, then looked up at him in disgust. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No. This is a magic mirror. It will show you anything you wish to see."

"Right." She snorted. "And I'm secretly half-fairy. Are you touched in the head?"

"I'm telling you the truth, I swear!" he replied exasperatingly. "Here, let me prove it to you. Show me… Vincent."

The face of the mirror lit up to reveal the inside of a bedchamber that looked like Adam and Belle's. Bent over a lit candle, wearing a white nightshirt and striped housecoat, was Duke Vincent. He was holding a book in his hands and reading its contents aloud with a dramatic bravado:

"Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear,
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear..."

"Is he… reciting Shakespeare?" Belle asked perplexingly.

"No idea," Adam replied awkwardly. Perhaps choosing to spy on his cousin wasn't the best idea in hindsight. But at least he had Belle's attention now.

"Here," he said, passing her the mirror. "You try."

Belle bit her lip skeptically before grasping the mirror's metal handle. In that moment of closeness, Adam caught a whiff of the soap she'd used to bathe herself with earlier. She smelt of lavender, and it was heavenly.

"I'd like to see my father," Belle said, looking straight into the glass.

Almost instantly, her reflection was replaced by an image of Maurice, sitting alone at a wooden table. Judging from the brick wall and plain looking beams and braziers behind him, Adam deduced that the old man was in some sort of tavern. There was a bowl of soup and a glass of water in front of him, but he wasn't eating. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on something in the distance; something that Adam suspected only existed in his mind.

Suddenly, there was a sound of a door opening, causing Maurice to snap back to attention. Footsteps creaked across the hardwood floor, indicating that someone else had entered the room.

"Well?" Maurice said, addressing the unknown person with a raspy voice. "Have you found her?"

"I'm sorry, Maurice." The speaker was male, and his tone was remorseful. "We searched the forest as best we could and couldn't find a trace. We have informants at King Gaston's castle who can tell us if she was taken prisoner, but we won't hear from them for another two days at least. With the King sending his guards out to look for his brother, we have to tread carefully."

Maurice nodded, then banged his fists on the table in rage. "It should have been me," he cried. "I promised my wife on her deathbed that I would protect our daughter with my life… and I failed. Now I have no idea where she is. I don't even know if she's still breathing."

"Maurice," the man said consolingly. He walked around the table and hugged him from behind, allowing Adam to get a good look at his face. The stranger appeared to be around Adam's age, with long red hair tied back into a simple ponytail and a freckled complexion. He was simply dressed and well-built; if Adam were to guess, he'd spent his life in some rigorous occupation like farming or blacksmithing. There was an air of confidence about him—not the same cocky confidence that Gaston had—but confidence that seemed bright and dignified… like a natural leader.

"You can't lose hope, Maurice," the man continued. "You said she's smart… maybe she got away from the bandits on her own. Maybe a Good Samaritan found her and took her in for the night. Maybe she's on her way to Corneille this very minute. What I can promise you is that the moment we hear any news about her whereabouts, we'll deliver it to you straight away. Vous avez ma parole."

Maurice nodded again, looking reassured by the man's words. "I just hope he's with her," he confessed.

"Who's that?"

"The Count… Prince Thomas. He was the one who nearly died helping me escape from the castle. Belle didn't care for him very much; but then again, the same goes for a lot of young men she's met in Villeneuve." He chuckled. "There was something about him though… some sort of selfless air that I couldn't help but trust. It sounds bizarre, Renaud, but I believe that she'd be better off with him than on her own."

"You could be right," Renaud agreed. "It's always safer to travel in numbers. In any case, you should eat and get some rest. We need you to be healthy if you want to be part of our resistance. Charlotte's prepared a room for you upstairs when you're ready."

Belle's eyes glistened with emotion as she observed Renaud and Maurice's conversation. "Papa's in Corneille," she said, smiling in relief. "He's staying with the resistance. Oh, but he misses me so much! Don't worry, Papa." She looked at him hopefully and placed her hand on the glass. "We'll be together again soon."

She passed the mirror back to Adam. As she did, she stared at him intriguingly. "Where did you get this?"

"It was a… erm parting gift from Agathon," Adam explained self-consciously. "Let's just say that there's a lot more to that man than he lets on."

"He did give me that impression, actually," Belle concurred. "I saw what he did to those trees back in the clearing. So then why would he entrust this to you?"

Adam ruffled his hair, trying to think of a convincing cover story. "He… wanted me to have it so I'd always have a way to look back at the kingdom," he vacillated. "In case I ever changed my mind about leaving."

"Well, then, have you?'

"Have I what?"

"Changed your mind about leaving? Or were those things you said in the salon just a bunch of words?"

Adam sighed. "I did mean what I said. But that doesn't mean that I want to be part of it. There are many good reasons as to why I'm unfit to lead a rebellion. Reasons that I'm under no obligation to share with you."

"I see." Belle pursed her lips, thinking. "Well then, if you don't plan on using the mirror for anything useful, why not give it to me? It could help me find safe passage to Corneille. The resistance might put it to good use, too."

"No!" he snapped. He instinctively pressed the mirror closer to his chest.

Belle's mouth opened into a silent "O" shape. She tilted her head down and smirked at him knowingly. "There's more to the story, isn't there? Another reason why Agathon gave you the mirror?"

God be damned. Adam bowed his head in shame. Of all the girls I had to fall in love with, it had to be the one who can sniff out my lies like a bloody hound dog. "I… need it to help me find something for Agathon," he replied stiffly. "A sort of… secret weapon that can stop Gaston from being King."

He heard her breath hitch and imagined the thoughts running through her head: the whispers of adventure, ending Gaston's regime, realizing that her rescuer wasn't everything he said he was…

"What is this weapon?" she asked curiously.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Geneviève entered the room, holding several colourful dresses in her arms. "Sorry for the late intrusion, Mademoiselle, but I just wanted to leave some of my mistress's old clothes in your armoire. You can try them on for tomorrow's—"

She stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Adam standing in the room. "Oh, M-My Lord!" she stammered, curtseying as best she could while still holding on to the Princess's clothes. "Forgive me… I didn't realize… I can come back later…"

"No, that's quite alright," Adam replied, feeling just as uncomfortable as Geneviève looked. "I was just having a word. We're finished now."

He turned back to Belle and bowed swiftly. "Goodnight, Mademoiselle Gagnier." Then, before she could say anything in response, he turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

He was determined to dispel any rumours about Belle being his courtesan, especially after what Vincent had said to him back in the woods.

Once he returned to his bedchamber, Adam threw himself onto the mattress and pressed his hands over his face. Good job, Adam. You've really done it now.

Now that Belle knew the truth—that he wanted to save the kingdom instead of abandon it—she would undoubtedly be peppering him with questions for the next couple days. Of course, there were a few ways he could avoid her. He could sneak out of the castle… and straight into Gaston's army, or dismiss Belle's memory of their conversation as a dream… which she wouldn't believe in the slightest. Both solutions were full of flaws and sounded less promising the more he considered them.

At least she knows where her father is, he reasoned. It felt good to give her that small piece of comfort, even if it was only a piece. To see her smile like the old Belle had smiled had warmed his heart in ways that riches never could.

Still, it wasn't enough to overpower his uncertainty. By revealing his real reasons for abandoning the kingdom, Belle might start looking at him with favour instead of resentment. He would have given anything for her to see him that way once, but now, after ruining her life so many times, knew that he had to avoid it at all costs. Belle couldn't get close to him. She couldn't know that he wasn't the real Thomas-Alexandre of this universe, and she couldn't know about the terrible things he'd done to bring himself here. He was just a man on a mission—a mission that Belle was to play no part in, no matter what Agathon or Maurice said.

He closed his eyes, content with his decision—or maybe not. For when he fell asleep, he dreamed that he was back in his old ballroom, twirling Belle around in her golden, feather-light dress. There were some differences between this dream and the reality though: in this dream, the spell was broken, Belle was here to stay, and they were deeply and happily in love.

It was a dream that would torment him until the end of his existence; or at least until he trained his heart to stop hoping for things that would never be.