"I think that's everything," Ansell said as he inspected the carriages, patting one of the new horses' shoulders. There were three wagons carefully surrounded by his mounted guards to keep robbers at bay. Looking up and down the line, he checked the boxes and the goods headed for his castle.

"The list has been checked twice, Master," Lumiere reassured, well aware the Prince was excited about the prospect of sending gifts home.

"Good." Being nosed by a little bay tied to one of the wagons, he smiled and rubbed its jaw. "You're going to make someone happy." He told the filly, petting the velvet nose as it nickered softly. "I think after the trials of yesterday everyone could use some gifts."

"It'll brighten a lot of faces." He agreed, noticing Chapeau reluctantly holding onto the pup's leash as one would hold a chamber pot that had been in the sun. The little dog bouncing and sniffing the wooden wheels curiously.

"Quite a few odds and ends."

Turning to his brother's voice, the Prince found Francis and Lucette heading towards his caravan.

"You've been a busy boy." His aunt noted, eyes moving up and down the line.

"I took spending my sum seriously." Pulling the steps down he opened the door to the most luxurious carriage and peered inside. "Gentleman, I wanted to thank you for your services before you headed off to my castle."

The pair, dressed in their finest, bowed the best they could. "The honor is all ours, Your Grace. We're glad we could be of service."

"My housekeeper, Mrs. Potts, will see to your needs." He reassured them. "I wish you a nice trip." Climbing down, he walked up to the head driver, pulling a stack of letters out of his breast pocket. "Make sure these get to the right people."

"Yes, Your Grace." He tipped his tricorn, large feathers flouncing.

Looking to Francis who was poking around, lips pursing into a thin line, he said. "You're not going to tattle on me for not spending it all on jewels and silk, are you?"

"Your generosity is safe with me." The brother reassured. "Be thankful Leon's not here to report back to him. Though you should have bought some more courtly fashion to appease him."

"That's coming tomorrow, you can thank Auntie for needling me into a few suits for my stay here." Voice trailing off he furrowed his brows in thought.

"What is it, Master?" Lumiere asked.

"I think that's everything-" suddenly struck with genius Ansell perked and quickly turned around. "Puppy!" He called out.

Having an idea of where it was all going, Chapeau eagerly let the leash go.

The pup charged over, clumsily skidding to a stop and tripping over her paws. Clambering upright, she pawed at his shoes with a wide, oblivious smile. In the few short days she had been with the Prince she had improved greatly.

"Good dog." Scooping the pup up, taking off the lead, he handed the animal over to a coachman.

"Good riddance." His valet muttered to the maitre'd.

"Can you watch her during the trip?" Receiving a head nod, he pulled the large, pink ribbon out of his hair and tied it in a neat bow around the puppy's neck. "May I please have a paper, quill, and ink?" Taking a small pen and ink pot, he thanked the coachman and jotted down the ingredients for the dog's medicine. Carefully waving the note to dry he handed everything over. "Make sure Mrs. Potts gets that, she'll know what to do. And put the hound on Chip's list." Ruffling the dog's ears, he gave a pleased smile towards getting rid of the annoying little thing. At least with Chip she would have someone to play with. "Au Revoir, pup."

The unsuspecting dog panted happily, trying to lick the Coachman.

"Nephew!" Lucette chastised. "Do you not like gifts?"

"No, I like gifts. I loved the scotch you gave me."

The village's reaction to Pere Robert announcing Gaston's service and accompanying banquet in his honor was mixed. As the priest stood on the platform in the town square, surrounded by villagers, some shook their heads and walked away, others fumed, the triplets wept.

Belle hung back next to a flower stall she could easily duck behind while Stephane and Gustave stood further up near the baker.

"Why weren't we told of this sooner?!" The Headmaster bellowed, stirring up some supporters while his face turned bright red. "How long have they had his body? Keeping him from his final resting place?! This is a disgrace."

"I believe the discovery was recent," Robert said calmly, watching the crowd carefully. He had been tasked with the announcement due to the people seeing him as an impartial voice, though it wasn't the actual case. "The Prince was notified immediately and when he read the report he vowed to cover the costs." Glancing across the crowd, he eyed his favorite bookworm in the back. It was difficult to not be nervous about her hanging around the square when he had vivid memories of being one of the few to reject Gaston's ideas of the beast and the villager's sudden desire to overtake the castle as a giant, mindless, bloodthirsty mob.

"Still isn't right." Clothilde shook her head with a long scowl as others joined her. "You know we wouldn't have had this in the first place if it weren't for that girl."

As a dozen or so men agreed, becoming louder and telling the remaining people how they felt, Belle quietly slipped away before she was seen as the crowd became more worked up and opinionated. Her lessons with Stephane and Gustave had been in the early morning, and she had quickly done any errands before Pere Robert made his announcement. Ducking behind a building, she made her way home, hoping to distract herself while things settled down.

Maurice was focused on a sketch as she came in, not even looking up as the door opened. "So how was it?"

"One thing's for certain, no one dies like Gaston." She sighed, shutting the door and leaning her back against it. "Thankfully this time his influence didn't end with pitchforks and threats of lighting the staff on fire. So I'll consider it a marginal improvement."

Furrowing his brow, her father staring at his sketch with displeasure towards his own work. "It's hard for me to believe that a man who tricked them all into storming the castle so he could kill the beast out of spite is still so revered."

"It's a small group of people." She explained, pulling up a chair next to him. "They rile everyone up and make things worse." Slouching in the chair, Belle smoothed out her skirts, fidgeting with her apron. "Honestly it's mostly the Headmaster and Clothilde, neither of them like me."

"That Headmaster is a terrible bully." Maurice bristled.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I know."

"That doesn't mean he should be out to get you." Setting his piece of graphite down, Maurice adjusted turned to her. "Have you thought about our discussion?"

"He'd be the last person to let me teach," Belle reminded him. "I have a feeling he'd rather set the school on fire than allow a woman to instruct. Especially a woman who wants to integrate girls into the classrooms and has all sorts of ideas on how to improve the school."

His daughter was frustrated, scowling at the idea of one man denying her of her dream. "Then find a way around it."

Cocking her head to the side, she stared at her father curiously.

"Maybe you don't have to teach at his school." he shrugged, taking a cloth and cleaning his glasses. "But you're very good at instruction, there are several little girls running around the village who know how to read because of you." Watching her mind go to work on the problem, he finished. "I know you, Dear, you're nothing if not resilient and clever."

"The Headmaster will hate me for this."

"Sounds like it's par for the course."

"Oh, I know." A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she mused over the idea of her bully having a conniption.

Maurice chuckled. "Be careful, Belle."

"It's not my fault if it rankles him because of his outdated views." She replied. "Whatever this eventual plan may be." Smiling at him sincerely her voice softened. "Thank you, Papa." tilting forward, she turned her attention back to his sketch. "Have you figured out the inner-design?" Belle asked, leaning over his shoulder and reading the notes for his next music box.

"Nearly." He sighed. "But I can't seem to figure out this element." Rapping his pencil on the table, he pointed to an interior sketch. "I don't think this will support the rest of the box, but it's such a small space to reinforce. Damned thing."

Pursing her lips, she stole the pencil and looked the design over before scribbling down a fresh measurement and rudimentary sketch.

Squinting, he adjusted his glasses. "Belle, that will certainly not- oh that actually works quite well." Surprised he began revising the rest as she smiled. "Thank you." Jotting some notes down he asked. "And what do you have to do today?"

Getting up, she went to tidy up her stacks upon stacks of books. "Hiding from a possible mob and now, apparently, scheming." She announced. "I'm sure I can find other things around here to busy myself with. You?"

"Errands, then I need to take stock of my paints." Stiffly rising with a groan he stretched. "I'll let you know how the town is."

"Thank you."

"I never took you for a botanist." Francis mused as Ansell carefully set a sprig into a small journal. They were walking the immaculate gardens with Lucette, enjoying the breeze together.

"It's a newer hobby." He announced, thumbing through the pages of his latest finds. Pressed herbs and flowers paired with notes in his gradually improving handwriting.

"Is that what you've been up to when you haven't been dragged about the palace?" Watching the heir, he raised a brow.

"Sometimes." Tucking the book into his breast pocket, the piercing blue eyes swept over the perfectly sculpted hedges. Everything laid out in perfect symmetry, sweeping and fit for the gods. "I also do like taking Cavall out and getting the air. It's much more invigorating than lying about and eating pastries all day."

"That's not the only thing we do lying about." Lucette hinted.

"Aunt Lucette." Raising his brows in astonishment his mouth slipped open. "What about Solomon?"

"Oh, I love him dearly. But I would be lying if I said we don't have our own proclivities." Stopping and cupping a rose, she smelled the pure white blossom. "And need I remind you this is Versailles, not a convent in the Alps. When in Rome."

"It's amazing you're so prudish." Francis ribbed. "You used to have quite the appetite and appreciation of the feminine."

"I still do." The prince defended himself. "Just more singularly." Wishing to change the subject, his gaze roamed to the fountain. Far away, past the bubbling stone fish, there was a man in resplendent clothing, being trailed by a massive entourage.

Francis' eyes widened. "I believe that's the king."

"He's a bit of a rare sight," Ansell noted. "It's the first time I've seen him since I've arrived."

"His Highness is in mourning." His aunt reminded him. "I hear he's rarely out unless he's headed to his little harem."

France gave her a magnificent amount of side eye. "It's called Parc-aux-cerfs."

"You can call it any frilly little thing you'd like. At the end of the day, he has a house full of virginal girls all to himself."

The great ruler of France disappeared into the maze of greenery, leaving them in silence. "You know, as a ruler, I can't help but stand here and think I should be back at home helping my people."

Francis rocked on his heels as he admired a marble statue. "You were never one for governing unless it meant taking large sums of money and spending it on yourself."

Frowning at the truth, he fought through the guilt that wanted to overtake him like thorny vines winding and wrapping through his body. "True," He composed himself. "And I did little after I transformed back. Lowered rates for renting lands, helped a few struggling families, but just that." Watching his brother's expression shift Ansell could tell that he felt differently. "I need to do something more, a bigger gesture."

"It sounds less like you're governing, more like you're throwing money away." Francis said with a touch of edge in his words. "Money that goes into your family's coffers."

Turning, he stood a bit taller, taking a strong step towards his brother. "But for what? We just spent a small fortune on horses and heels."

"Ansell, one must keep up appearances." Lucette reasoned. "I may fight with your father on many subjects, but as the future ruler of the family's lands it is your duty to keep the coronet solvent."

"And I know I can-"

"This is that damned tax, isn't it?" His brother exclaimed.

"I was greedy-" He pressed.

"And you were thorough enough to have your lawyers draft an iron clad law." He reminded. "One you can't undo, one that flows into our chests."

Frustration broke through as he shook his head. "No, father dispersed the money amongst all of you after after the curse-"

"Well, you must live with your choice." Huffing, Francis turned to stand off with the Prince who was slowly beginning to curl his fingers into fists.

"Be judicious with what your taxes bring in." Lucette's voice was firm, a touch sharp. "You should help the town, but you should have assistance with balancing the money."

"You don't understand, this tax-"

"It's not just you the money goes to," Francis argued.

"If there is excess, then you should locate it," Lucette responded. "However, it would be wise to examine all aspects of your estate's liquidity. And that includes setting some aside for family and emergencies. There might not be as much as you think."

"Emergencies?" Ansell scoffed, gesturing widely around them. "Do you see us going to war with a neighboring province? Everyone is here! Sleeping with each other's wives and getting fat on decadence. And I'm not talking about all of the lands in the province. I merely see to the town near my castle. Father rules the rest, that was his agreement with my mother. It's paltry compared to what he should be bringing in."

"The money you bring in is still important and it's selfish to fritter it away on subjects as you see it!" Francis hissed.

"There is generosity, Nephew, and then there is foolishness," Lucette warned. "Know the difference."

Mulling over her words, Ansell titled his head ever so shrewdly. "And how much do you get?"

A hand flew to her chest. "I never!"

"You certainly like to rile up Father, but you can't tell me Grandpapa didn't set aside some kind of sum for you." Watching her, her eyes slipped to the gravel ground and he scoffed. Lip curling a bit to them both. "Your husband is a Marquis-"

"I absolutely believe in being charitable," She spat defensively, opening her fan with a severe flick of the wrist. "But do not school me on finances."

"You have no idea how this money is tied up!" Francis exclaimed.

"Then I'll aim to find it! Mon Dieu, how much does he take from my lands? To hear it from you, it's as if it's the only thing holding this- this dynasty up." Exhaling forcefully through his nose he shifted his weight and fought the urge to pace. "I will not be goaded into submission on this matter. At the end of the day, it's my money, you've just grown accustomed to the excess he's diverted to you after all of these years he's kept me in exile." Turning away, he massaged the bridge of his nose. "Please understand I don't wish to harm anyone, but I do disagree with how he's handled what my taxes have brought in. I think I can do better, as their ruler, and now I'm beginning to I think he hasn't been exactly truthful about how vital my money is to the family's riches."

Francis shook his head slowly. "Anselme, please don't ruin a good thing-"

"It's not good, Francis. It's broken and I want to fix it."

Closing her eyes Aunt Lucette sighed. "All of this talk of money is so unseemly. Either we change the subject or I find a salon to attend to where I can listen to pretty ideas and drink myself silly."

Maurice took off his hat as he closed the door. Hearing rustling and jostling towards the back of the cottage. "Sounds like you're keeping busy."

"I am." Belle's voice replied. "Is it any better out there?"

"The coast is clear." He said with a hint of frustration that his daughter had to hide. As the clanging and shuffling became louder, he furrowed his brows and followed the sounds. "Whatever are you-" curiously looking at his daughter going through a cupboard, crate of things on the floor, he watched her upper half come out from inside a particularly deep one that was towards the floor.

Turning, covered in dust, Belle wiped her hands on her apron as she sat on her knees. "Did you get your glasses fixed?"

"Patched, I'm afraid. Kept saying I need new ones, and I suppose I do. Things are getting a touch blurry, however, I don't want to spend that much money at the moment." He told her, setting some supplies he had picked up from a merchant down. Still trying to parse out what she was up to, he scratched his beard. Eyes landing on the crate beside her. "And what exactly are you doing?"

"Well I was away for over a year, so I thought I might tidy up… and then I found out how messy you are without me around." Coughing out some dust, strands of hair falling out of her updo, she caught her breath. "You know, you're not very good at throwing things out."

Realizing what was in her rubbish bin, his face slackened. "All of that is useful!" Hurrying over, he was blocked as she scooped up the crate.

"It's all broken!" She told him firmly, dodging hands trying to wrestle the junk away.

"I can use it for another music box. Belle, give it back."

Pulling it more closely against her, she braced herself for a standoff. "Papa, it's all junk. Even I wouldn't repurpose it."

"But look at this-" Quickly grabbing a hunk of loose parts that in a former life had been someone's pocket watch, he fiddled with it in earnest.

"It's covered in rust," Belle said pointedly.

"It just needs some cleaning!" He explained defensively. "The insides should be fine."

The brown eyes stared at him reproachfully.

Maurice stared back stubbornly.

His daughter raised a brow as an awkward, tense silence filled the house.

Face falling, he reluctantly tossed the watch into the crate.

"Thank you." She said, toting the garbage out.

"If you want junk, you should clear out the shed." Maurice offered, a touch hurt. "The only one who's been in there is Ansell."

"That's next on my list," Belle reported over her shoulder, heading out the door and setting the box on the side of the road to be picked up. Letting out a deep breath of accomplishment, she waved to Agatha before heading to the shed. Dusting her hands together Belle went past the stables, asking Phillipe how his day was going, and stared at the shed with a touch of trepidation. Steeling herself for a mess, she opened the door.

Her eyes widened.

The entire ceiling was covered in bundles of herbs. All hanging on neat lengths of twine, each with a little tag. Reaching up, she read one of the tags. "Rue" in Ansell's scratchy cursive.

Smiling and shaking her head in disbelief, she stared at the fragrant ceiling for several long minutes.

"Arguing aside, it was a pleasant walk in the gardens with you both." Francis exclaimed as they entered the palace and walking through the glistening halls.

"It is hard to not get heated when it comes to some subjects," Lucette exclaimed, fanning herself as a familiar young woman passed by.

"My Prince," She paused and curtseyed.

He stood there, trying to remember her name. Something with an "E"? She had introduced herself right before he left his party. "Ah yes, Mademoiselle-"

"Elke von Tessmer." she reminded him.

Francis and Lucette watched quietly.

"Yes, of Saxony. Forgive me, I'm dreadful with names." He bowed. "How is your stay at Versailles?"

"Well, though I was hoping to see more of you." She replied demurely.

Aunt Lucette drew her fan up in a way that covered her twitching lips.

"We did come all this way to celebrate your return." von Tessmer explained; all flowing lace, shimmering silk, and a heap of wig.

"Ah, you'll have to excuse my absence." Straightening his posture, he slipped a hand behind his back, wishing to escape. "I can be solitary at times, not one for court. I prefer to read-"

"What a coincidence. Have you seen the library?"

Blinking a few times, Ansell's eyes suddenly brightened. "No, I've been in search of it for some time now. I haven't been able to find it with this palace being the maze it is."

Smiling coquettishly her chin dipped. "I'm more than happy to take you some time. I'm a bit of a bookworm myself and find myself there often. I enjoy philosophy."

Realizing what was happening he bowed his head. Giving a polite, forced smile as his shoulders tensed. "Perhaps another time, Mademoiselle. My day is quite full."

"As you wish, Your Grace."

When the young woman slipped off, his family converged on him. "Well now, she was certainly your type." Francis hinted while they continued walking. "Bookish yet beautiful."

"She's not Belle-"

"She doesn't have to be. Marriage doesn't mean you have to love them, it just means you signed the paperwork." He explained keenly, eyes sliding to his left. "Auntie?"

She fanned herself quickly. "You could at least put on a show, Nephew. And the end of the day you go home to your Belle. For now, you're under your father's scrutiny."

Scowling at them he straightened his waistcoat forcefully. A dull ache beginning behind his eyes. "Of all people-"

"The more you play the game, the less he toys with you and the faster you get back to your castle."

"You make it sound as if being with that young, supple-looking Saxon is such a sacrifice." His brother scoffed. "Surely your mademoiselle would understand you having to take such measures to appease father. He's noticed, you know; your peculiar lack of interest."

Letting out a heavy exhale, Ansell stopped at his apartment door. "Thank you for walking with me."

Displeased with the prince's stubborn streak, they bowed and left as he entered the small parlor that led into his bed chambers. Lumiere and Chapeau stood at the massive, gilded bedroom door, looking like piles of nerves.

"I need to rest." He told them, head sharp with a migraine. "Please draw a bath and bring in some tea, I have a splitting headache."

"Sire-" Chapeau bumbled.

"And do it quickly." Pulling off his wig he handed it to the valet, scratching his scalp and letting out a moan of pleasure from the freedom. "It's so hot under that damned thing."

"Master, your father-" Lumiere gulped.

"That is the last person I want to hear about right now." He growled, grasping the handle of the door, not even waiting for them to open it. "Father this and father that. I can't wait to get out of here and away from this shadow he casts."

"My Prince, you need to know-"

"Please, no reports until I've gotten over this headache." Pulling open the door he began to enter.

"Master!"

"Lumiere! What is-"

He turned to see the two prostitutes waiting on his bed for him.

"Oh."