Frosted Rose

by Kayleigh J

Arrogant, selfish, spoiled prince Adam has everything he could ever want in life, so why does a simple servant girl with big brown eyes make him want... so much more? And why does her 'relationship' with his best friend make him so angry? He wants to ignore, but soon finds himself falling for her. Can she give herself to him in return? For who could ever learn to love a beast?

21. Winter Solstice Part Two

Winter Solstice

Part Two

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I spun at the sinister words, only to be faced with a sight so unexpected I reared back in shock.

There stood a man, looking crazed and insane as he glared wildly between the three of us, keeping us all in sight as he slithered from the darkness of his hiding place behind the door, slamming it shut with a sharp shove. He looked young, but rough. Flaming red hair overgrown and wild, pale sunken cheeks bruised and dirty, lips dry and cracked as they pulled back in a sickening leer.

I reared back in surprise, Belle shot to her feet beside me while the little servant girl continued to weep. It took but a second to recognise it was more monster than man we were now trapped in a small room with. A monster that brandished his weapon in warning as he took a step closer to all of us. A knife. He was holding a knife.

Who was this man? What did he want?

My answer to both questions came in one single terror-stricken whisper.

"Edward."

Edward?! This... was Edward?

It was at that moment I realised what danger we were all truly in.

I hadn't seen him in years, not since we were both technically children... he looked nothing like the Edward that conjured in my memory. Nothing like the sophisticated, well-bred, handsome young man who stood beside the rich and powerful at court. Nothing like the stuck up little brat who had transformed into a 'gentleman'.

But those eyes...

Long gone was the refined monster that had hidden behind expensive clothing and his father's money, before me now stood a new breed of beast. One I had always known lay hiding under the surface.

What was he doing here? How did he even get back into the kingdom? He was banished! Why was he here?!

Edward's mouth twitched in an unpleasant scowl, his upper lip rearing as his eyes narrowed scornfully. Twirling the knife between his fingers as though playing with a toy, he clenched his jaw and spat, "Ah, you remember me, little Belle? What an honour. To have my name spoken by Prince Gaston's personal whore. I'm touched."

I felt Belle cringe, but wouldn't risk taking my eyes off the madman just in case he struck.

His words made me furious. And scared. I didn't want this little creep focused on Belle. I had to get his attention.

My eyes narrowed on his weapon as he continued spewing venom, "But I should be honoured, shouldn't I? After all, where once I could have had you flogged for daring to say my name, I'm now lower in status than a slave who warms the future king's bed. I really should repay you for your courtesy."

I wanted to throw myself in her way, but feared any sudden movement would set him off. And while I had no doubt I could take him in a fight if it were just the two of us, his weapon made the world of difference. I had to think strategically here. Like a hunter. But the thought of her getting hurt was clogging up my mind so badly all I could think to do was yell, "Edward, stop this!"

His red-raw eyes locked with mine. He grinned.

"Ah, Prince Adam. Are you surprised to see me? I'll bet you are since this little bitch," He pointed the knife menacingly towards Fifi's quaking body, "got me thrown out of my home and my father imprisoned for something he didn't even do! Stand up bitch, I want to see the pretty face I loved to fuck so much!"

His vile words caused a whimper to pull from the young maid's mouth. I didn't dare take my eyes off Edward to see if she obeyed his command, because I'd just now realised a startling truth.

Edward didn't know Belle's involvement in his banishment. Didn't know it was Gaston who framed his father for treason. No, his focus was entirely on the little servant girl he had terrorised, and he'd come to this castle, to her room, with a knife.

A cold sweat ran down my neck.

I knew why he was here.

He wanted revenge.

"I said stand up! You always were a stupid bitch! Did you honestly think I wouldn't come back for you, after what you did?! Answer me! Or do I need to remind you of what happens when you disobey my orders?"

"Edward," I tried to reason, raising my hands to indicate I was not a threat, taking a tiny step in his direction. "Put the knife down. We can talk about this. You're only going to get yourself into more trouble if you don't-"

A slash of the knife had me stumbling back.

"Don't you dare try and order me, Adam, I'm the one in control here! You should be on my side! How would you feel, if one night you went to bed respected, feared and revered, and woke up with your father in chains, getting dragged through the throne room and humiliated for a crime he didn't commit?! I know he didn't steal that gold, he never would have stolen from Silas! But he was imprisoned for it, and I lost everything! My future was completely ruined! I have no money, no home! Mother and I live on the streets as beggars all because this whore," He pointed his knife at Fifi, "set him up! I know she did! And the bitch is going to pay for it! A life for a life!"

He was just as twisted as I remembered him. But when we were kids he was just an entitled brat. Now it seemed, that sense of entitlement had spawned into something far worse. He blamed this girl for ruining his life while completely ignoring all the pain he'd caused her. In his mind, his treatment of her was most likely justified, but how dare she attempt to fight back? His banishment had taught him nothing. In his mind, the world owed him, and he'd come to collect his debt.

But he hadn't come here just to hurt Fifi or force a confession out of her. He'd come with the intent to kill.

I had to do something. Edward was inching closer and closer to us, and there was nowhere to run. Just one quick slash and any of us could be severely wounded. I had to protect them. But what could I do?

And while I wasted time trying to think of a solution, Belle did something stupid.

"You're wrong!" She yelled.

My heart all but stopped. No! No Belle, please!

Edwards cunning eyes narrowed on the beauty as he stilled his advance. Sneering mockingly, he scoffed.

"And what would you know, little girl?! You have nothing to do with this! Neither does he," He sneered aiming the knife at me, "this is between me and my bitch! She ruined my family name! Hundreds of years of nobility reduced to nothing because she refused to give me what was my right to take! I don't know how she framed my father, but I know she did it! And she's going to suffer, just like I suffered! So, Fifi, are you going to hide behind your foolish friend like the coward you are, or are you going to come over here and accept your fate? It's no less then you deserve for what you did to me!"

"She didn't do anything!"

"Belle-" I tried to silence her, but Edward interrupted.

"Oh really? Are you insinuating that my father really did commit that crime, little girl? Speak carefully. I only came for her, but I don't care who gets in my way."

"She didn't frame your father," No, Belle, NO! "I did!"

Silence followed Belle's declaration, and I honestly had never been so angry with her. At the same time, I was overcome with terror. Oh god, what has she done?!

Edward screwed eyes judged her sceptically, before scoffing disbelievingly.

Please don't believe her!

"You honestly expect me to buy that? That someone who'd only been in the castle a few weeks could have done all of that all on their own? Nice try. You're a brave bitch, I'll give you that, but trust me when I tell you this little cunt isn't worth your loyalty. So I'll give you a choice. You can leave right now, and pretend you never saw me here, you can even take him with you," He nodded his head in my direction, "and I won't hurt you. Or, you can stay. Watch me gut this bitch like the animal she is and then you can be next. Trust me when I tell you, Prince Gaston doesn't care about you enough to send anyone after a friend." He sneered.

He was truly insane! Not only was he planning a murder, but he also planned on walking right out of this castle scot free afterwards?! Had he even taken into account who I was? The entire kingdom would hunt him down if he so much as nicked me with that blade. But now was no time to think of the rational mindset of a madman. I had to get his attention off Belle and towards something that would aid me in his surrender.

Unfortunately, it appeared Belle had other plans.

Because right beside me, loudly, obnoxiously, she began to laugh.

It wasn't a pleasant sound. In actual fact, it sounded like she was possessed. It was so unexpected I finally tore my gaze from Edward just to stare at her. And what a sight it was. I had never seen something so unnatural. A cruel, almost inhuman smile twisted her sweet lips and her eyes widened as though she were the crazed one. She looked absolutely nothing like the girl I had gotten so close to in all these many months. Right now, she looked like the monster.

"You really think I did this all on my own?" She chuckled sarcastically, her tone nearing smug as her mouth twitched in a sinister smirk. I nearly shivered. What was happening?

"Fool! Of course, I didn't do it alone. Of course, I had help! I had help from the one person you just called your friend," She mocked. "Prince Gaston."

Edward's eyes bulged dramatically, his whole body stiffening. I watched on in horror, as he violently shook his head.

"No, you're lying! Gaston wouldn't have done that, he-"

"He what? He cared about you? Open your eyes, Edward! It was a setup! The whole damn thing was a setup! She had nothing to do with it," Belle persisted, tilting her head back in Fifi's direction. "It was just me, and him."

My mouth gaped open at Belle's conviction. What was she talking about? When she told me about Edward and Lord Sebastian, she said she had no clue what had really happened. She told me it was all Gaston's work and now she was claiming she was involved as well?

She was lying, she had to be! Making up a fake story to put Edward's focus entirely on her, and away from her friend who still sat quivering on the bed. That was it, that had to be it. She was just protecting her friend!

And yet, I couldn't stop the sliver of doubt. What if I was the one she'd been lying to? Before I could even think another word, the madman broke.

"Why would he do that?! You tell me! Huh? Why would he want to frame my father?!" Edward screeched in denial, his left eye twitching angrily.

Belle didn't hesitate.

"Because Gaston wants to be king. So what better way to weaken his father's hold on the council then to remove the lord most loyal to him? You were right Edward, your father never would have stolen from King Silas, but it didn't take much to convince Silas otherwise, did it? Gaston wants to rule this kingdom on his own, and the only way he could do that without his father watching his every move, was to get rid of everyone who would be more loyal to Silas, then their future king. I helped him get the gold, I helped him hide it in your parents' room, I even told Gaston he should tell his father he'd seen Lord Sebastian acting suspiciously, because we both knew, even if we were caught, Silas would never disown his only son. Most definitely not for a mediocre, replaceable bastard like your father."

Edward lunged, charging right for Belle, knife raised. With a scream, Belle jumped aside just in time for Edward to lose his footing, staggering and tripping onto the bed. Fifi let out a yelp and scrambled away, launching across the room out of sight. Panicking, I lunged. Throwing myself on top of him before he could regain his balance, desperately searching for the knife in the darkness. He was writhing under me, trying to buck me off while I struggled to find his weapon. A sudden pain ripped through my leg before I had a chance to realise he'd freed his left hand. Instinctively, I retreated, giving him enough time to stumble off the bed and charge right at me. He crashed into me with a thud, sending us both tumbling to the floor. The wind knocked clean out of me as my back slammed against the stone.

My vision blurred on impact and sharpened just in time to see, almost through another's eyes, Edward raise his knife.

This is it.

Then just as suddenly Edward's head was completely covered. I looked up in shock. Belle had somehow snuck up behind him, shoving a pillowcase over Edward's head, using all her strength to keep it down while he wildly slashed the knife in her direction. Using his distraction, I bucked my hips and slammed my fist up into his face. He rolled off with a loud moan and landed right beside me. As fast as I could I climbed over his body and grabbed for the knife still flailing in his grip. Despite his disorientation, he kept a firm hold on the thing, and I hissed in pain as the knife sliced right through my left palm. Desperate and angry, I slammed my elbow down into his stomach as hard as I could, all the while trying to avoid his blind attacks. His muffled groan of pain could be heard clearly through the scruffy pillowcase over his face, and gave me just enough time to grab his frantic arm and finally yank the weapon from his clenching fingers. Tossing the knife across the floor, I drew my arm back for one final blow before the door burst open.

AAA

"I'm so sorry, Belle. I shouldn't have kept it from you, I was just so worried! Please don't hate me! I'm so so sorry!"

After a rather large contingent of castle guards charged into the room, yanked Edward off the floor and dragged him kicking and screaming down the hallway, we had all explained what had happened and were left with the reassurance that Edward would be kept somewhere secure until the king decided what was to be done with him. After speaking with the guards, being told I should seek assistance for the injuries I'd sustained during the fight, and resigning to the fate of explaining this whole mess to the king later tonight, the three of us were left alone.

It was at this point Fifi mournfully admitted she had known Edward was coming for her tonight, and had, in fact, written her a letter explaining all the gruesome things he had planned for her.

As Belle's eyes skimmed the ominous forewarning to Edward's plan, Fifi had not stopped begging forgiveness, staring at her nervously from where they both took sanctuary on her small bed. I was outraged when she revealed the letter, furious that her actions had inadvertently put Belle and myself in danger. If she had told someone, warned someone, he might have been stopped before he got anywhere near this castle. Instead, she'd kept quiet, but we'd all nearly been killed! I could have berated her for her stupidity, but something about the situation stopped me. So I merely tucked myself in an uncomfortable armchair in the corner of her tiny room while Belle handled Fifi.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm so sorry Belle, truly, I am! I didn't think there was a chance he'd get back into the castle, especially tonight with all the extra security! But if there was a chance... I... I couldn't let you be here. I never wanted you to get hurt and I know how unstable he is. I just thought... it would be better if I was alone. That way, no one else would get hurt." She whimpered defeated. Belle clasped Fifi's tiny hands in her own, watering eyes full of compassion as she stared angrily at her downtrodden friend.

"Fifi, your life is not worthless! By keeping quiet like he told you in his letter, you gave him control! You can't keep letting him dictate your life! He's nothing! He was the spoiled son of a disgusting wicked man who only cared about wealth and title. You are a beautiful, wonderful person who has friends, and people who love you! People who will stand by you no matter what. He not only doesn't have any of that, but someone like him could never understand their value!"

Cupping the small maid's chin in the palm of her hand, she tilted Fifi's weeping, reluctant eyes to meet her own.

"I love you like a sister, Fifi. And it kills me that you still have his voice in your head telling you that you're worthless or... that no one could ever love you. Because he's wrong. He's always been wrong. This-" She held the letter out like it was plague-ridden before ripping the thing to pieces, scattering the dirty parchment all over the stone floor. Fifi watched her with wide, teary eyes, her bottom lip trembling, "-is meaningless. It's all lies. You are kind, generous, courageous and brave. You don't belong to anyone, only you! I need you to believe me, because otherwise, Edward could be sentenced to life in prison tomorrow and still kill you every night in your dreams. You could have just run away when you had the chance, but you didn't! You got those guards, you faced your fear. You're stronger than him, Fifi! He's just a weak little man who expected the world to cater to him for the rest of his life, you've never expected anything more then what you deserve, and you do not deserve what he was going to do to you. So please, please, please promise me, if something, anything like this ever happens again, you won't keep it a secret. Promise me you'll come to me, because I honestly don't know what I'd do without you! Promise me!"

Fifi burst into tears.

"I promise!" She wept, flinging her arms around Belle's petite body and sobbing violently onto her shoulder. From where I was sitting I could see Belle shedding silent tears of her own, all the while rubbing Fifi's quaking back and comforting her, telling her everything would be okay.

A little while later, Fifi had fallen prey to exhaustion and slumped her entire body onto Belle. I hovered awkwardly as Belle removed Fifi's shoes before tucking her into bed. She looked so tired, yet she always saw to other peoples needs before her own. The conversation she'd shared with Fifi earlier had made me uncomfortable, like I was imposing on something deeply private. But I also felt a strong sense of pride for Belle. What happened with Edward must have been traumatic for her as well, and yet she put her fear and fatigue aside to care for her friend.

I was still angry at her for goading Edward into attacking her, but the fact that she did it all purely to save her good friend's life made it near impossible for me to stay angry.

I still wanted to talk to her though, so when she blew out the last of Fifi's candles and gestured me to follow her out, I was more than happy to oblige. I walked into the shadowy hallway and watched Belle gently close Fifi's door before turning to me.

"Thank you, Adam. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been with me in there." She told me gently, deep brown eyes beaming up at me with overwhelming gratitude.

An unpleasant shiver ran up my spine as I thought of what could have happened if I hadn't followed her out of the ballroom. I knew Belle was no coward, she'd proved that time and time again, but two small girls locked in a room with a crazed armed man near twice their size... I shuddered. Thank god I'd followed my instincts.

"How do you think he got back into the castle?" I asked her curiously. I was genuinely perplexed because, despite Fifi's stupid decision not to warn anyone of Edward's return, she was right when she said the extra security should have kept him out. On nights like tonight, when the castle was open to so many guests, it was up to the castle guards to ensure no one uninvited made their way in. I shuddered to think what would have happened if Edward had been an assassin for the king, or Gaston for that matter. I knew this was something I'd have to bring up when I inevitably spoke to Silas later this evening.

Belle shrugged a shoulder, slumping against the wall tiredly as she dragged a hand down her flushed face.

"It was his home once too. He may not have spent most of his childhood here, but I have to think he at least knew a few secrets this place hides. Maybe there's a secret entrance somewhere, or an unguarded one and he just exploited it."

A dark thought came to mind. "Or maybe someone helped him in," I speculated aloud. Belle's face suddenly turned fearful.

"Adam, please promise me they'll keep him away from Fifi. He might not think she's responsible for his father any more but I know she's vulnerable right now. She'd be an easy target if he decided to try again."

"Hey, don't worry. The guards have probably taken him to the old cells beneath the castle and that's where he'll stay until Silas decides how best to deal with him. He was banished. The king won't go easy on him for sneaking back into his kingdom." I assured her with conviction. She nodded slowly, looking distressed as she fiddled with her fingers. I knew something else was worrying her.

"What is it?" I asked. She looked up at pleadingly.

"Please don't tell the king about that letter."

My eyes widened in surprise, that was definitely not what I'd expected her to say.

"The king probably already knows what happened here, which means Gaston will to, by the end of the night. If either of them knew Fifi had been warned he was coming back..."

Oh. I understood now. She didn't want little Fifi getting into trouble. No doubt the girl would be interrogated, Belle too, most likely. But Belle had Gaston as backup. The servant girl had no one, and if either of them learned what happened in there could have been avoided...

She was right, it would be better to keep quiet. For both their sakes.

Thinking about her devotion to her friend's safety brought me back to how helpless I felt when Belle had exposed herself as responsible for Lord Sebastian's imprisonment. Lingering on the memory brought back my rage, and even though this wasn't the correct place or time, I just couldn't help myself.

"Why?" I demanded.

Belle looked confused.

"Why what?"

"Why did you tell Edward that you were the one responsible for ruining his life? Why did you make up that story? It was made up, wasn't it?" I interrogated her, desperate that she tell me the truth. I wanted to believe the tale she'd told had only been to distract Edward, but she'd spoken with so much conviction I couldn't help but doubt.

Could she have really helped Gaston imprison Lord Sebastian because Gaston wanted him out of the way? It sounded so unlikely, and yet... it did seem like something Gaston would do. I eyed her suspiciously as she huffed at me.

"Of course it was a lie, Adam. I had to think of something to get his focus off Fifi. Do you honestly believe I would do something so underhanded?"

"I don't know. You told me the other day you try to keep Gaston happy. You have this strange loyalty to him, despite everything he's done to you. And Gaston getting rid of Sebastian because he wants to take control of his court when he's king... it makes sense." I fired back defensively. Belle was completely outraged.

"Adam, are you serious?! I told you what really happened that day, I had nothing to do with it! I don't know why Gaston went so far as to frame Sebastian for treason when he could have just talked to him, fired him, something! I only said that in there so Edward would think it was all my fault. I had to get his focus off Fifi, that was my only intention!"

"Why?"

She looked at me like I was stupid.

"Because Fifi has suffered enough! Were you even listening to what I told you days ago? He hurt her, Adam. He hurt her in ways I can't even describe! She's told me some of it, but... but I know the worst things... the things she just can't bring herself to share... still haunt her! Do you know that she's shunned by so many of the maids here because of how often she wakes everyone up at night, screaming? Not to mention how she's treated by the nobles because of how 'soiled' she is. I could say I get the same, but I know its worse for her! At least I have someone of status in the castle who will defend me, she has no one. She came to this castle with no family or friends and within weeks fell prey to Edwards abuse. He used her, made her feel worthless! Made her feel like she wasn't even worthy enough to be used by him but still forced her to endure it anyway. I'd like to say that she was released when Edward was banished but... her reaction to that letter...the fact that she didn't tell anyone of us about it because she still feels the compulsive need to obey him... He's left so many scars on her, Adam, I wasn't going to let that knife do the final blow."

She was panting, a frantic mess, eyes bulging and practically begging me to understand.

Gosh, I felt like an idiot.

She was just protecting her friend, yet my experience with treacherous women had made me question her character. I guessed the only reason I found it so hard to believe was because I didn't think I had anyone in my life who cared for me the same way. Gaston and I were friends, sure, but would he jump in front of a knife for me? Would I, for him?

You did for her.

That was true. I had jumped in front of her when Edward came at her with the knife. I even had two painful cuts to prove it. What did that mean? That I cared more about her safety then I did my own? I'd never cared about anyone more than myself. All my life had been about my problems and my needs, never once taking into consideration how anyone else in the world could be important.

What was happening to me?

I could have died tonight, and yet... yet the thought of her getting hurt...

"I'm sorry," I told her quietly. Miserably. It was all I could think to say.

Belle sighed sadly, before slowly stepping closer and gently, gently, reaching out to take my injured hand. I inhaled sharply in surprise as her soft fingers caringly caressed the area around the small slice on my palm.

"No, I'm sorry." She whispered woefully. I raised my head, but she wouldn't look at me.

"It seems all I ever do is yell at you and accuse you of not understanding. I don't mean to, I swear. I know you're trying. It's just... so frustrating." She murmured so tenderly I felt my eyes prick painfully. I used all my willpower to keep the weakness away.

"Something we can agree on then," I muttered heavily, not knowing exactly what she was trying to say, but also knowing that my feelings too were, indeed, incredibly frustrating.

AAA

Standing in front of the king's private office a few hours later, I suddenly felt nervous. After leaving Belle in the hallway and making my way to the hospice, a castle guard found me there and informed me of Silas's desire to see me. I stalled the encounter for as long as I could, even insisting the nurse re-bandage my cuts two extra times because her work was 'scruffy.' Finally, I decided it was time to meet my fate. I knew the king would want to know what I was doing in the servants quarters in the first place, and if he'd already spoken to Edward, well, there was more then a little chance I'd have to tell quite a few lies.

I would keep my promise to Belle, and keep the letter a secret. She'd already destroyed it, and hopefully, she would tell Fifi to keep quiet as well, if that was what she wanted. Lying to the king went against literally everything I was raised to believe, but there was no other option. I'd tell Silas the truth about the attack. I just had to be convincing enough.

"Come in, Adam." The king called as his guards knocked.

Here we go.

I opened the door obediently, stepping into the large, spacious combination of blacks, greys, and dark rich wood. Tall wooden bookshelves crammed with thick well-worn books lined the left and right walls, while multiple huge stained glass windows sat behind a massive rich polished desk crowded with scrolls and parchment. A set of extravagant expensive black leather chairs gathered in the centre atop a rug of real tiger fur, finishing the ominous effect. I had never been in here before, I had never been allowed. Yet, somehow, I thought the room reflected Silas's personality perfectly. He was seated behind the desk, waiting for me.

"Take a seat, Adam. We've much to discuss."

Trying my best to hide my anxiety, I obeyed his order and sat on the cushy leather chair before him. He was adorning the same clothing he wore at the ball, only he'd shed the cloak and the sleeves of his gold shirt were rolled up to his elbows. I almost couldn't believe it was the same night, as it definitely felt like more than a few hours since I'd entered that ballroom. Yet despite the fact that I was near exhausted by the entire night's events, he looked completely unfazed. His cold dull eyes burdening me with his full attention, I refrained the urge to fidget and called on all my training to appear completely calm. In his mind, I had done nothing wrong. I had to remember that.

"Would you like to tell me what happened tonight?"

I explained, as composed as possible, the events leading up to this very meeting. Silas did not look pleased when I spoke of the fight or when his eyes narrowed on my injuries. I told him Edward had been acting like a crazed lunatic, waving the knife around like a madman, rambling about a servant being responsible for his father's imprisonment. I tried my best to make his accusation sound as ridiculous as possible, for Belle's sake. I concluded with the guards coming to take him away, and how I was called to his office while getting treated for my two shallow cuts. Upon his inquiry, I assured him I was fine, and tried my hardest not to look uncomfortable when his aged eyes scrutinised my every move. When my story was completed and the tense silence followed, I couldn't help but think through everything I had just said. I needed to be consistent if he asked me to explain again.

"I spoke to Edward," He began, immediately setting my heart to race. "He seems to be under the impression that his father was framed."

I attempted to look unconcerned.

"Yes, he was rambling about that earlier. But, honestly, Your Majesty, do you truly believe him? The man will do anything to see his father free and reclaim their noble status." I thought for a moment before elaborating, "If I'm being completely honest, I was surprised when I heard what Lord Sebastian had done, but I'm sure you investigated every piece of evidence you had before convicting the man, didn't you?"

Silas assessed me intently, his cold abrasive eyes felt like they were staring right through my very soul. It was an innocent enough question, after all; Sebastian had been his right hand, and it must have taken a lot of convincing to persuade him of his 'betrayal.' After a moment or two, he gave me a stiff nod. I breathed a small sigh of relief before his next words had me choking on it.

"He told me the girl admitted it. Even told me she insisted my son was partially responsible. So tell me Adam, was he lying to me?"

That son of a bitch. Of course, he rated Belle out. That's exactly what Edward was. A rat.

What could I do? Edward was crazy, yes, but he was a conniving little bastard. If I lied and told the king Edward was making it all up, would Silas believe me? Could I lie to him? I hadn't technically lied yet, I had only withheld certain truths. Could I do it? Could I truly sit here and commit the worst form of treason? My heart was pounding. I could practically hear my father's voice yelling in my mind, ordering me not to. Reminding me of my lineage and the respect I'd held for the man before me since I was but a child.

"He wasn't lying." I finally admitted. Silas's expression was worthy of a portrait.

"The girl did tell Edward she and Gaston were responsible for his father," I watched his eyes flash in outrage and took a deep breath. "It was rather ingenious, actually. The more she talked the more agitated he became. It only made it that much easier to get that knife away from him, in the end. To be honest, I was surprised, I never expected a servant to be that intelligent."

I internally cringed as the words left my mouth, but what else could I do? Silas had no idea I even knew Belle's name, he couldn't possibly know of the strange affection I was harbouring towards her, and he'd always detested servants. What better way to throw him off the scent of Belle and Gaston then to make the whole thing sound like a story? Edward was better off banished, and Sebastian could rot in prison for the rest of his days for all I cared. I knew how much trouble those two would get into if Silas believed Edward's plea. I couldn't let it happen.

The king raised his eyebrow at me, the light wrinkles surrounding his mouth tightening in a deep frown. Damn, I knew that look. He was mirroring my father almost identically. That was the look I always received when I was about to be caught in a lie.

Shit.

"I see," Silas said, standing abruptly and turning his strong back to me, staring out the window to the dark night sky. "So, you think he was lying?"

The way he said it, that tone... He'd obviously been considering the probability of Belle and Gaston framing Sebastian. It was not a good sign. I had to put a stop to it before it consumed him completely.

"Your Majesty, do you really think Gaston would frame Sebastian in order to gain control over a council he would have legally inherited in less than two years? Much less involve a servant?" I asked as though the idea were preposterous. He didn't move his gaze from the window, only stood perfectly still as though drawn into himself. When he replied his voice was deep and quiet. Almost sinisterly so.

"I'm not sure Adam. About any of it. Gaston... he has such an odd attachment to that... girl. I don't know if you've noticed."

If only you knew.

"It's not like anything I've ever seen before. If Gaston were to plot against my crown, quite honestly, despite how surprising it may sound, I think she would be the first person he would tell."

His ominous tone made me inexplicably tense. It was like he wasn't even really speaking to me any more, more airing his thoughts aloud as he gazed out at his kingdom blanketed in a shadow of darkness. I could just see the look adorning his face through the reflection in the coloured glass, and his eyes were as distant as his reply.

Was... was Silas genuinely considering the possibility of Gaston plotting against him for the crown? Belle had only made up that story, most likely because the idea of someone of Gaston's status going through all that trouble merely because someone put his hands on the servant he kept in his bed, sounded completely absurd, even to her. It was pretty quick thinking on her part to come up with a story a little more conceivable, but now I could see it. Could see the doubt taking route in Silas's mind. He actually thought his own son was plotting to betray him.

This was not good.

"Such a curious hold she has over him, it makes me wonder..." He trailed off, shoulders completely lank and relaxed as though we weren't talking about the possibility of his son committing treason. But then, just as easily, I was distracted as well.

So Silas had noticed too. I wasn't going mad when I observed how much more possessive and controlling he was over Belle then any other female he'd ever been with. Silas's words brought me back to Belle's odd claim that she had just as much control over him as he did over her. When she'd said that, I thought it was nonsense. But now...

Unable to contain myself, I asked a simple stupid question.

"Do you... do you think he loves her?"

For whatever reason, that one single question seemed to snap Silas right out of his odd trance. He turned sharply, dark greying hair falling over his disgusted eyes. He scowled.

"Love? A servant?" He looked completely repulsed.

Thinking quickly, I tried one last tactic to dismiss those dangerous ideas for good.

"Your majesty, Edward is a lunatic. He snuck into this castle because he thought some chambermaid was somehow responsible for framing one of the most powerful lords in your kingdom. From what I understand, Gaston's... girl, was a friend of hers. She made up that insane story to distract him and make him angry, forcing him to make mistakes. And he did. He charged for her at the wrong time and I was able to disarm and restrain him until the guards arrived. I asked the girl about the story she told him after Edward was gone, and she claimed it was all lies. Just something she'd concocted in her mind then and there."

Seeing Silas still not convinced, I took a different approach. Taking a stance I'd seen my father master a thousand times in the past, I tried my hardest to imitate his superiority, leaning back in the comfortable leather chair, I said, "If I'm being completely honest with you, Sire, I didn't for a second think a servant would be capable of thinking such a complex ploy, let alone acting on it. And if I may also say, no offence to you, Sire, but I heavily doubt Gaston could ever be cunning enough to orchestrate something so elaborate." I laughed mockingly. "He's always been more of a fighter than a thinker."

And incredibly, miraculously, I believed my obnoxious words had finally worked. The tension in the king's face - that had been so prominent since my arrival - deflated. Whether it was my scoffing mocking tone or how amused I sounded at the mere idea of Belle's story being true, the king seemed to finally come to the conclusion that it was all madness. It may have been simple exhaustion, but Silas was never one to show weakness. No. He looked relieved. It wasn't truly obvious, just the barest twitch in his muscles, but it was there.

I kept my expression as simple as possible, but internally, I was breathing the biggest sigh of relief. I had just fooled the king. A man who had literally scared the living daylights out of me as a child. Not to mention how much trouble I'd just saved Belle and Gaston. I wondered just how impressed Belle would be with me?

My mind was lingering on all the possible scenarios when Silas finally spoke up again.

"Thank you, Adam, for putting my mind at rest. I assure you, Edward will suffer greatly for daring to defy my orders, and for the injury he caused you. I may even send him off to the same dark hole I stuck his father." Silas mused, a cruel pleased smile tipping the corners of his mouth.

I breathed a discreet sigh. Everything was going to be just fine.

Just as I was about to exit his office, "Adam?"

I turned, holding the door open with my foot as I found the king pouring a drink from a bottle he had resting on his desk. I raised my brow.

"Your Majesty?"

"What were you doing in the servants quarters, by the way? I realise I didn't ask before."

I forced a cheeky smirk.

"I was... entertaining a guest. I thought the servants quarters would be empty, thanks to the ball. Unlucky for me, I was wrong." I tried my best to sound put out.

Silas chuckled. An actual real, genuine chuckle as he ladened me with amused blue eyes.

"Oh, Adam. You truly are just like your father."

AAA

"Why would he do that?! You tell me! Huh? Why would he want to frame my father?!" Edward screeched in denial, his left eye twitching angrily.

Belle didn't hesitate.

"Because Gaston wants to be king. So what better way to weaken his father's hold on the council then remove the lord most loyal to him? You were right, Edward, your father never would have stolen from King Silas, but it didn't take much to convince Silas otherwise, did it? Gaston wants to rule this kingdom on his own, and the only way he could do that without his father watching his every move, was to get rid of everyone who would be more loyal to Silas, then to their future king. I helped him get the gold, I helped him hide it in your parents room, I even told Gaston he should tell his father he'd seen Lord Sebastian acting suspiciously, because we both knew, even if we were caught, Silas would never disown his only son. Most definitely not for a mediocre, replaceable bastard like your father."

Edward lunged, charging madly at Belle, knife raised. I tried to move, frantically tried to throw myself in front of her, but I couldn't. It was like my feet were trapped in quicksand. All I could do was watch in horror as Edward stabbed the knife right through Belle's stomach. As if time had slowed, a dark pool of blood began to ooze, spreading deathly through the cloth of her dress like wet ink on pure white parchment. Belle's eyes bulged in shock, gaping disbelievingly at the knife in her flesh. I tried to scream, but I couldn't, tried desperately to move but couldn't. Tears drenched from my eyes as she collapsed to the ground, her bright, beautiful eyes forever frozen in silent horror, empty. Edward's laugh cackled madly through my very soul as my eyes stayed glued to Belle's lifeless body.

Belle...

"No!" I cried, waking with a sudden jolt. Heart racing wildly, frantically scanning the dark guest room that had been my home for the past few months.

A dream. It was only a dream.

A nightmare.

Rubbing a sweaty hand down my flushed face I collapsed back on the mountain of pillows, breathing deeply to calm the erratic beating of my heart.

Fucking Edward.

The dream was so vivid, so brutal. It was like I could feel the cold of that cramped dark room, smell the horrid stench of dirt and death that clung to Edward's body, hear the silent scream as I watched her blood flow.

I shook my head, rubbing my eyes and willing the image away. Belle...

Throwing back the covers I hauled out of bed, heading straight for one of the thick heavy candles sitting in a wall candelabra, shakily striking a match. Dim orange light brightened the dark room. Taking a peek outside, I realised it couldn't have been more than a few hours since my conversation with Silas. And that only meant one thing. It was Christmas.

Grumbling, I quickly headed over to the balcony, yanking the door open to get some fresh air. A cold breeze blew sharply past me and immediately snuffed out the candle I had just lit. The wind was strong, hitting me hard and causing a shiver to run down my spine. It was freezing, but I decided to battle the storm. I cringed as my bare feet hit the chilling stone, but the cold was welcome to how hot and uncomfortable I felt.

What a dream.

When Edward charged at Belle with that knife, I didn't really have time to think, I just reacted. Now, remembering that moment, I realised just how terrified I was as he raised his weapon. She could have died. She could have died and I wouldn't have been able to stop it. What if she hadn't moved fast enough? What if Edward hadn't fallen? What if..?

No. I couldn't think about that.

Unable to help myself, my eyes drifted to the balcony a few doors down from me, his balcony. Had she told him what had happened? Was he comforting her right now? Was he holding her in his arms while she wept into his chest? Why couldn't it be me?

I physically cringed as the image of the two in his bed barraged my mind, flinching away and instead choosing to stare at the bright orange glow lighting the sky off to the east.

What if I'd lost her tonight? What if Edward's knife had done the job it had intended? She would have been gone in the blink of an eye and all my wealth and influence would have been powerless to save her. What would I have done?

Strange, I had only known her a few months and yet she had melded herself to me so completely, that I felt I wouldn't know a world without her in it.

What would I do, after I went home?

What would she do, after Gaston was married?

Rubbing my hand down my face, I flinched as dull pain shot through my palm. I'd completely forgotten about my injury.

Whatever Silas chose to do with Edward, I sincerely hoped I'd never see the little rat again. I also hoped that Silas wouldn't listen if the weasel tried to convince him of his father's innocence.

Silas; he had me worried while I sat in his office. The sombre way he stared out the window. The weight of his words when he voiced his doubts. The odd distance as he spoke of the curious case of Belle and Gaston. Though I feared to think it, I was actually worried that Silas was concocting reasons to refuse Gaston the crown. The arguments they'd been having since I arrived, the strange tension between them whenever they spoke, the hostility they seemed to share whenever Belle was in the same room... none of it made sense to me and it all left me wondering...

What if Silas really did plan to keep the throne.

Doing so would put a massive wrench in Gaston's future. If he was denied the crown on his coronation, he wouldn't get another chance to claim it until Silas eventually passed. Silas was by no means an old, frail man, so, barring any unforeseen tragedy, that would surely take a long long time.

What had me so perplexed about the whole thing was that Gaston knew of Silas's hostility towards Belle, knew of his contempt and dislike, and yet he still continued to parade her around, knowing full well the consequences.

And Gaston wasn't stupid.

Was it possible that maybe... perhaps... he didn't want to be king?

Thinking such a thing made my head spin. We had been training for this our whole lives. Shared hundreds of hours of conversation on what we would do with our kingdoms once they were rightfully ours. But Gaston kept defying his father's wishes, kept denying his father's authority, kept pushing the man to his limit and kept acting like he didn't care.

And then a thought came. A single messy thought.

What if it wasn't about not wanting to be king.

What if Gaston didn't want the crown... because he wanted Belle?

I gripped the balcony railing, suddenly queasy, completely ignoring the pain shooting through my injured hand as it clenched the frozen metal.

I knew Gaston didn't want to be married, but... was keeping Belle with him really worth sacrificing his claim to the throne?

Belle was beautiful. Sweet. Kind. Caring. Loyal. Courageous...

But worth an entire kingdom?

So many questions, so much uncertainty, I was almost relieved when the knock came on the door.

Breakfast with the nobles was boring and uneventful. The fine rich food tasted like ashes and I barely ate a thing, mind still wailing its woes and refusing to settle. The table was crowded, loud and boisterous as everyone celebrated, stuffing their faces and enjoying large quantities of whisky and wine.

I couldn't take it in, it was like I was in a world of my own and I wasn't the only one.

Across the table from me, just a few chairs down from direct sight, sat Gaston, his face as serious and sombre as ever I'd seen him. He hadn't touched his food either, which was surprising enough to make me take notice. His strong muscular face was etched in a deep frown, staring off into the distance as anxiety weighted down his hard features. I knew why he looked that way. He must have known.

What surprised me, though, was how concerned he truly appeared. The day after he'd beaten her to a pulp he'd been chugging down his breakfast the way only an enthusiastic young man could, yet today it seemed his appetite had all but vanished. It was unexpected, to say the least, but it did make me wonder...

Was his night just as sleepless as mine at the idea of losing her?

His ice blue eyes that were normally so cold, had something in them now that I had genuinely never seen before.

And before I could truly study him to try and figure out exactly what it was, the king's voice rang across the table.

"I'd like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and sincerely hope fortune favours you this year and many years to come." A round of jovial cheers sounded at the king's short speech. His superior eyes then found the servants all lined along the walls.

"You are dismissed for the day. Enjoy it. You'll be right back to work tomorrow morning. Now go."

His contemptuous tone had the servants hastily bowing and rushing from the room, much to the amusement of several of the nobles. I did wish Silas would speak to them a little less like a pack of dogs, but there was nothing I could do. I watched them all scurry away, and wished for a single moment I could join them, knowing how tedious the next few hours undoubtedly would be.

And I was right, it was tedious.

I was seated in the parlour, hiding away in a large comfortable brown leather chair while the rich and powerful of the kingdom surrounded me, laughing and eating and drinking and shouting. Many had complained about having to fetch their own drinks since the servants had been given the day off, and honestly, their whining was the only bit of amusement I got out of the whole morning. I hated this day on the best of years, but after what happened last night, I was in absolutely no mood to join their drunken festive cheer.

Silas had already left, but surprisingly, Gaston had seated himself beside me. He hadn't said anything, so I hadn't exactly felt compelled to leave just yet. He just sat in his chair, quiet and contemplative, nursing a small glass of brandy and sipping at it like a baby.

He must have known about Edward, but had Belle told him how close she'd come to getting killed? Was that what the sombre looks were about?

Since Belle had revealed her story I'd had some questions for him, questions I was resigned I'd probably never have the nerve to ask. Did he truly care for Belle, or was it just her body he was obsessed with? Was everything he'd done to her merely out of revenge or had he simply... lost control? Was the fortune he was undoubtedly spending on her father's treatment to force her obedience or... did he honestly care to see her happy?

Why had he gone to such extreme lengths to get her, when he could have anyone?

And what would he do when he couldn't have her any longer?

Questions upon questions, and I hated it because there wasn't a damn thing I hadn't been able to talk to him about in the past, and now...

It felt like our friendship was hanging on a chewed piece of string and I couldn't help but question my own fault in it all.

Why hadn't I written to him? Why had I stayed away for so damn long? Why had I stupidly thought everything would go back to the way things were when D'arque sent me that letter, requesting my return. Why..?

I couldn't take it, it was all too much. Feeling as irritable as I had at that damn ball, I launched to my feet and without a single fucking word to anyone, left.

I wondered the empty halls for a while. Funny, I'd gotten kind of use to seeing a servant every few minutes, sweeping or polishing or pushing a cart around. I was glad Silas at least allowed them to take Christmas day off work, to be with their loved ones, but the silence was eerie and in a way, unwelcome.

I thought I wanted to be alone, but... when I was alone I had only my thoughts for company, and my thoughts refused to go anywhere safe or happy. Instead, I was plagued with uncertainty, anxiety, fear, confusion, rage, hate. It was all too much.

I needed to see her.

But first, I had something to get.

After a quick trip to my room, I struggled down ten flights of stairs all the way to the servant's lounge. I figured if she'd be anywhere, it would be there. Setting down the large parcel right behind the door, I hastily checked my jacket pocket then nervously twisted the handle.

The scene I was met with near warmed my frozen heart.

Every servant in the castle was here, crammed into every nook and cranny of this tiny room. It had been adorned in decorations I assumed were leftover from the solstice ball last night. The ceiling hung with tinsel, several wreaths nailed to the walls, they even had a tree, though it was small and puny compared to the monstrosity currently standing proudly in the ballroom.

Yet they didn't seem to care.

The workers of the castle; the cooks, the maids, the stable hands, the gardeners, the hospital staff, even the ladies in waiting, all crowded in this diminutive space, and they all looked... unbearably happy. There was laughter and smiles all around, Fife playing freely on his piano, groups standing near him merrily singing along, loud laughter and giggles coming from every conversation, genuine happiness throughout. And not a single drink in sight.

How could these people be so happy? How could this one small insignificant day make them so happy? They'd be back working their butts off tomorrow and yet, they laughed and smiled, sang and were just so joyful I had a moment where I simply thought to leave, not wanting to ruin the mood. Of course, it was at that particular moment I was finally noticed.

The music stopped. All laughter ceased and silence reigned within seconds.

So much for that.

All eyes were on me, and not to surprisingly, they all looked miserable. At first, I couldn't really figure out why, but then I remembered that, oh yeah, I was royalty, and standing in the servants quarters on Christmas day. They must have thought I was here to order them all back to work.

For some reason, it hit me hard that I'd sucked the happiness from the room so suddenly, and thoughts of retreating once again conquered my mind.

Luckily, an angel came to show me mercy.

"Adam?"

Belle appeared from the mass of people, squeezing her way past several dozen servants who all looked on shocked at her addressing me as such. I sighed in relief. After that horrid nightmare, it really was comforting to see her standing before me, in a pretty red dress, just fine.

"Hi Belle," I muttered awkwardly, vividly aware of the hundreds of eyes currently watching our every move. She must have mistaken my nerves for guilt because she looked at me with such sadness.

"Did King Silas send you?" She asked resignedly, disappointment prominent as her lovely lips dropped in a frown.

I was desperate to put the smile back on her face.

"No, no!" I exclaimed loudly, shaking my hands in denial.

She sighed in relief. "Then... is there something we can do for you?" She asked politely.

I shifted uncomfortably. Normally I wouldn't have been so self-conscious but... all eyes were on me.

Every single servant in the castle was staring at me like I was a dancing bear in a travailing circus. I felt so exposed.

"Adam?"

"I just came to give a solstice gift." I blurted. Her sweet face withdrew in surprise. With how often we talked she must have known how much I resented the holiday.

"Solstice gift?" She asked, properly puzzled. My mind couldn't help but drift to the events of a few days before.

"I'm s-sorry Your Majesty, but we no longer have this book. The only one we've ever had was s-sold a few moons ago. I'm very s-sorry." The overweight gentlemen behind the podium stammered pathetically, quivering in fear as he took my last bit of hope away.

"Damn it!" I yelled, angrily kicking the podium the man was standing behind, promptly smashing a large bottle of ink, the contents spilling everywhere. I watched in irritation as the hapless man continued to stammer apologies while cleaning the profuse amount of ink now spreading all over the place, soaking into papers and dripping to the floor like sinister black blood. A part of me felt to apologise, but shook the absurd inclination away, far too angry and emotional to care for the stranger's distress.

I'd been to every bookstore, visited every place that had even the smallest collection of books for sale, talked to everyone I could think of who may be able to help me, and nowhere had what I needed. The large library sitting almost centre in the bustling busy high-street of my kingdom had been my last hope and now that hope was dashed.

Christmas was in three days, I didn't have the time to travel anywhere else, and I'd literally looked in every place I could think of.

And now to be told that the only copy they had was bought several months ago? Worse than finding out they never had a copy, to begin with. They did have it, and they sold it to someone else?! I felt like screaming in rage and sobbing in frustration all at once. But of course, I didn't, repeating my mantra in my head that indeed, prince's don't cry.

A few people watching from the sidelines cowered away from my rage. They hadn't seen their prince and soon to be king in years and this was the first impression I was leaving on the lot of them. Great.

Running a hand down my flustered face I let out a huff through my nose and stared aimlessly at the stacks upon stacks of books.

Perhaps I should just buy her any old book. Surely, she'd be grateful for anything she received. Hell, I'd gift her this whole entire fucking library just to see her smile. But... thinking back to the way her eyes sparkled when she told me about her story, the happiness shining from her golden orbs as she described all the wonders the pages held for her... I knew this gift would be perfect, and even with all my power and influence, it wasn't something I could do. Pulling the tattered, ruined corpse of a book from my jacket pocket, I held the distressed thing to my forehead and sighed.

"Is... is there anything else I can do for you, Sire?" The trembling voice of the spinless head librarian sounded behind me. Letting out a large huff I turned, only to be met with the man covered in ink. It was smeared all over his hands and clothes, even his face. It was a rather amusing sight, and I probably would have chuckled if I hadn't been so fucking angry.

"Unless you can direct me to where I can obtain this book, you've wasted enough of my time." I snapped at him, willing to take my failure out on this ignorant man if it meant blowing off some steam. I hated coming here, it was like a sick twisted joke that I'd travel all this way for absolutely nothing.

"I-I-uh," He stammered like an idiot, wiping his large sweaty forehead with the same handkerchief he'd been using to clean the spilt ink, spreading the black substance all over his face. This man was hopeless. I was done with him.

I turned my back to leave, signalling my many guards to follow, when his quivering voice called out, "I can take you to the person who bought it!"

AAA

The house was old and run down. It was quite large in size, possibly once belonging to a wealthy, well-to-do family, but it appeared that time had not been kind to the structure, and the home had fallen to disrepair.

It was three-stories high, with several windows boarded over, probably due to the rooms no longer being in use. The quaint red bricks were worn and chipped and the roof was visibly in need of restoration, with several holes stuffed with fabric and missing slates. If it were not for the large stone chimney chugging out black fistfuls of smoke, I would have thought the place was abandoned.

Whoever owned this home was either too lazy, too poor or too old to see to any restorations and as such, what was once a beautiful wealthy property now seemed but a ghost of its former glory.

My assumptions were confirmed by the oaf beside me.

"The gentlemen who owns this home is very old Sire. He's very weak and has no family left to his name. A younger woman cares for him and comes to the library to check out books for him on occasion. She was the one who purchased the book you're looking for." He stammered.

I looked over the property cautiously.

Was this possibly a trap, a trick to lure me to my death? As future king, I had to be alert to all possibilities. Yet, despite my reservations, I had instructed my personal guard to stay in the carriage, deciding to brave this on my own.

"Are you certain he has a copy of this book?" I asked for the fifth time since agreeing to follow this blathering idiot out of the library. I didn't know how I felt about requesting the book from a person who'd already purchased it, but this was literally my last hope.

After watching the man nod so urgently his second chin wobbled, I left him, disgusted, and walked down the grey stone path. The garden was unkept. Overgrown grass and several out of use fountains wooded with moss and fallen leaves.

The wooden porch that surrounded the entrance seemed to creak and sway dangerously at the mercy of the winter wind. Walking up the creaky wooden steps, I tapped smartly on the large blue and waited.

A few moments of silence passed, but I could hear movement from the other side. Hasty clapping of heeled shoes and some muffled mumbling. Before I could knock again, the door slowly opened.

A middle-aged woman with tightly tied light hair, dark-rimmed spectacles and a face full of freckles stood in the entrance way. Immediately, I believed her to be one of those snooty, obnoxious women who flaunted their authority rather as Angelique did, but my assumptions were proven false when her eyes bulged from beneath her glasses and she half hid behind the door.

"May I help you?" She asked rather timidly, as though the last thing she expected was a visitor. But then, I guessed, how many people really expected royalty to knock on their door?

"Yes," I coughed, clearing my throat, "I wish to speak to the owner of this home," I said as dignified a possible, not wanting to expose how out of step I felt in this particular predicament.

The woman continued to stare, like I was a strange undiscovered breed of animal, before she turned to look into the dark house.

"May I ask what this is about?" She questioned, almost too quiet for me to hear, still timidly cowering behind the door.

Immediately her demeanour irritated me. I didn't need to justify my presence to this woman. I was king of this land. I could go anywhere I pleased in it, without needing permission. Yet a squirming in my gut told me it wouldn't hurt to be polite, just once. I was here to ask a favour after all. You don't bite the hand that feeds you.

"I merely wish to speak to the owner of this home. Is he here?" I asked as civilly as possible. The woman reminded me of a skittish mouse, wringing her hands on a dirty yellow apron and pushing her glasses back up her nose, she gave me a small shy nod.

"Well," I pressed, growing irritable, "May I come in?"

She withdrew at my tone, staring at me fearfully as I tapped my foot impatiently. Before either of us could say anything more, a croaky voice sounded from deep inside the house.

"Jacqueline? Who is it, dear? You're letting in a terrible draft. There's only so many logs we have to see us through the winter."

The voice clearly belonged to an old man, who sounded rather cheerful despite the concern his words implied.

The woman's – Jacqueline, I presumed- eyes went wide as she turned to look inside the house again. Deciding I didn't want to waste any more time, I simply stressed, "Well?"

She regarded me carefully, before reluctantly removing her guard at the door and holding it open for me to enter.

The interior was as depressing as the outside. The entranceway was bleak and dark. Old withered wallpaper peeling and discoloured chewed rugs covered a worn wooden floor. A rickety staircase going up the right wall looked as though just one push would knock it all down, and I prayed I wouldn't have to venture up there as the woman closed the door behind me.

"May... may I take your coat, sir?" She asked in a skittish tone, no louder than a whisper. I turned to catch her staring at me with fear deep in her eyes, like she expected me to attack her or yell at her or something. I didn't think I had been that imposing, what was she so afraid of?

"That won't be necessary. Hopefully, I won't be here long." I told her, trying and failing to hide the destain for my surroundings. She seemed to acknowledge my unspoken words, and cringed before nodding her head solemnly.

"Well, then, allow me to show you to Mr Morette. But please, kind sir, I implore you, please don't say anything to distress him. He hasn't been his best these last few weeks. Please be gentle with him."

I looked at the woman curiously. What did she think I was going to do, threaten him? I wouldn't stoop that low, even if I was desperate. Then again, the way the woman spoke it would appear I was most likely not the first visitor to come here in these many months. I wondered why she thought I was here, as she led me through to the parlour.

It was just as gloomy. All windows were shut off by thick heavy green curtains, the only light in the room being the burning fireplace that had pitiful few logs in its bath. It smelled heavily of firewood and smoke, and I couldn't help but crinkle my nose as I ventured further in. A few remnants of the homes wealthy interior was clear in several paintings and expensive looking rugs that decorated the room, but time had not been kind to them, and as such, looked visibly worn and withered despite their worth. Aside from them, the only other furniture in the room was a desk neatly stacked with letters, a small bookshelf and a table between two battered faded purple armchairs. One was empty, the other sat an old man.

He appeared every bit as though he had aged as well as his house. Dressed in a simple grey shirt and black breeches, every single inch of his skin adorned by wrinkles. His hair was short, white and balding. He had heavy sagging bags beneath his eyes as though he'd suffered years of restless sleep. He was thin as skin and bones, and his left hand shook violently from where it gripped the tip of a silver cane. He, like the woman, was decked with heavy glasses, but judging by the fact that the glass was tinted black, I doubted they truly had any real use. Poor man, didn't seem as though he had much time left. Yet despite all of this, his wrinkled mouth tipped in a smile as his head turned to the sound of our footsteps.

"Jacqueline, dear? Who was at the door? You would tell me if you had a secret lover, wouldn't you? You know how partial I am to a good romance." He croaked cheerily. The young woman beside me giggled lightly, startling me with her sudden spirit.

"Of course not Mr Morette, you know you are the only true love of my life, no man could ever mean more to me than you."

"Oh, pish posh, you're so young Jacqueline, you should find yourself a nice young chap to take care of you, not waste your youth away keeping me company." The man insisted teasingly, though the sincerity in his tone was hard to miss. Jacqueline merely shushed him.

"Hush, sir, we have a visitor." She scolded softly, moving behind him to fluff up his pillows while he shook, putting weight on his cane.

"A visitor?" He asked, seemingly just as surprised as the young woman had been, and I used the opportunity to introduce myself, feeling far too uncomfortable with the obvious affection being displayed.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry to impose without sending proper notice. My name is Adam."

The old man's thin white eyebrows raised, and a smile stretched his wrinkled lips as Jacqueline continued to fuss around him.

"Your voice sounds young," He commented dryly, "have the tax-collectors hired new blood to sway me?"

I stared at him blankly, immediately confused.

"Tax-collectors?"

"Yes, they send one once every week now, trying to convince me to sell this old house. They've increased the tax on the property twice in the past six months, and when I can't pay, they rummage through the rooms, taking what they can carry. The jokes on them though, this old house has many rooms. Many hidden treasures. It will take them years to remove everything. But judging by your surprise, you're not one of their lackeys sent to do their bidding, eh boy?" He joked, lightly, chuckling as though strangers coming into his home and taking his belongings were no big deal. I was genuinely surprised, and looked at the older woman to see an expression equally dumbfounded. Did she think that's why I was here? Was that why she wouldn't let me in? Did that mean... she didn't know who I was?

It wasn't that unusual, I mean, I had been gone for years. And unless you had spent hours memorising the paintings and statues of my late ancestors scattered all over the city, the only way an average person on the street would know of my status was if I specifically told them, or if they saw me walking with the royal guard. Still, I was rather out of my element in this particular situation. Everyone knew me at the castle, it just made me feel even worse about how long I'd been away from 'home'.

The old man's shaky hand reached up to clasp the woman's, and she tore her gaze away from mine to stare down at Morette with affectionate eyes.

Strange. The head librarian told me this man had no family, yet this woman was doting on him like a loyal daughter would a loving father. What was the relationship between these two beings, I wondered.

"Would you be so kind as to make the young lad a cup of tea, my dear? It's rather nippy out there, and we've no idea how long he's been travelling."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," I tried to quickly intervene, but he would hear no objections.

"Sonny, you're in my home, surely you can indulge me enough to share a cup of the good stuff with this old man?" He asked, giving me a gummy grin.

I squirmed in the chair, looking awkwardly between him and the older woman, who was, surprisingly, staring rather imploringly from behind his back.

"Alright..." I conceded, thinking it might be better to do this while we were alone. I didn't want this woman staring at me judgementally when I stated what I came for.

Jacqueline placed a hand on the man's bony shoulder.

"I'll be right back," she muttered in his ear, before sending me a pointed look and walking out the room.

"So, young man, if you are not here on the orders of those slippery weasels at the tax office, I assume you have other business here? We don't get many visitors, you see."

I shifted under the weight of the man's invisible stare. Even if he couldn't see me, those small black spectacles seemed to bore right into my very soul.

"Well... you see sir... I'm... I'm actually here about a book." I stammered out, those dead eyes making me as nervous as I'd ever been. The worn fabric and pointy wood of the faded old armchair weren't helping matters either.

His white withered brow rose on his wrinkly forehead as his mouth seemed to pucker at one side, probably trying to decide if I was being serious.

"A book, sonny? I have quite a few of those. Many scattered around this old house. 'Course, these old eyes can't see much of anything any more, dear Jacqueline usually-"

"I'm looking for a specific one." I interrupted him hastily, wanting to get this over with before the woman returned. The silence in this dreary house was eerie and I didn't like it. I wished to leave as soon as possible, even if that meant literally begging an old man to part with his possessions.

He remained silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I've been looking for this particular book... I've looked everywhere. The head librarian in town told me that your Jacqueline had purchased the only copy they had. I really need this book, so, I'm, um, here to... here to ask... if you would be so generous... as to … part with it?"

Gosh, I couldn't remember the last time I stammered like that. Was it the disquieting feeling I was getting from this old rickety home? Was it my desperation? Was it guilt that I had essentially come here to take from an blind old man? Had it been any other person, I did not believe I would be so apprehensive, but something about the circumstances made me feel like I couldn't act the way I usually would have.

He seemed to regard me for a short while, his nimble fingers rubbing at the worn fabric of his faded purple armchair. "And what particular book might you be searching for, sonny?"

I immediately pulled out Belle's shrunken copy of Descending The Moon. I'd been carrying it everywhere, even though I didn't really need to. Now I knew the name of the tale, bringing the ruined possession with me was rather unnecessary, but I just couldn't bring myself to let it go. Belle treasured it so, and even though I was searching for a replacement, I couldn't help but feel it would be tremendously disrespectful if I simply threw it away.

"Descending The Moon," I told the man, running my hands over the dry, brittle pages. "Please I... I would be exceedingly grateful if I could convince you to part with it. Of course, I'd be more than happy to reimburse you. Just name your price," I insisted honestly, hand already reaching for my back pocket where a small bag of coins lay waiting. They were worth a substantial amount, and I'd be more then willing to part with the entire lot if it meant getting my hands on that book.

The old man continued to regard me silently, and I just could not help but be sucked into those perfectly round, black lenses. What must it be like, to see nothing but darkness? Had he always been blind, or was it a side effect of his old age? It would certainly explain why his home was kept so dark, and as the shadows danced over the man's sunken, sallow face, he spoke.

"Curious. I've never heard a young man beg so studiously for something so common before. What does this book mean to you, I wonder?" Something about his tone made me think he was speaking more to himself than to me, almost as though he were sizing me up, building an image of me in his head. I nearly cringed at his use of the word 'beg.' I'd never had to beg for anything. I demanded, perhaps asked, but never begged. Until these last few months of course. It seemed most unbecoming, but I couldn't find it within me to argue. He had something I wanted, and I would do anything to get it. Anything.

"It's just-"

The clattering of cups and the clacking of heeled shoes interrupted my reply. I hastily placed the book back in my pocket as the woman reemerged from around the corner. Placing the tray on a small table between us, she immediately began to fuss again.

"Is there anything else I can get for you Mr Morette? Is it too cold in here? Would you perhaps like a blanket, or a few more logs on the fire?"

The old man smiled, making him seem all the younger.

"No, dear angel, I'm wanting for nothing as long as I have your company."

The woman flushed a little pink before looking upon the man affectionately, gently guiding his withered hands to the cup handle.

"Sugar, dear sir?" Jacqueline asked, holding the small china sugar pot over my cup of black tea.

"No, that's fine," I said, not really planning on drinking it anyway. This place was starting to get to me. The smell, the groaning of worn wood, the apparent affection these two beings shared. I wanted out. But I didn't want to leave without what I'd come for.

"Well now, that does hit the spot. You do make the absolute best tea, my dear." The old man complimented, smiling as he sipped from his chipped china cup, his wrinkled fingers quivering under the weight of even such a small weightless object.

Jacqueline merely chuckled.

"Why must you flatter me so in front of company Mr Morette, do you care nothing for how red my cheeks become?"

"Ah, and what a sight that must be. I do wish these old eyes of mine weren't quite as useless as they are, so that I could gaze upon you just once. Tell me, young man, is my dear Jacqueline as beautiful as I've always pictured her to be?"

The question took me rather off guard, as my gaze shot to the woman who promptly hid her face, turning her back towards me and fiddling with her apron.

She was a pretty woman, there was no denying that. A bit on the older side for me, and nowhere near as gorgeous as my intended target, but pretty, nonetheless.

Still, his words caused some confusion. He didn't know what she looked like? How long had she been in his home, caring for him? Why did he have no family to see to his needs? She certainly treated him with far more kindness than a simple maid or employee. What was the story between these two?

Before any of these intrusive questions could make there way off my tongue, however, there came a sharp knock on the door. Jacqueline instantly stiffened.

"Ah, now that would be our weekly guest. Do invite him in, dear Jacqueline, we know he's travelled a long way." The man said amusedly, despite the obvious disdain on 'dear' Jacqueline's face.

She scurried off, and I heard the door open just before a vaguely familiar voice boasted, "Ah, girl. Good. Take my coat and see to it that its clean by the time I'm ready to leave."

The haughty, obnoxious words had me brimming with anticipation for who was about to walk through the door. Mr Morette's face soured for the first time since I'd been here at the blatant disrespect to his 'angel'.

"Old man, you better have my payment ready this time! I'm not wasting another valuable afternoon rummaging through all your junk just to find..." An audible gasp followed the man's pitiful demands as he turned the corner into the room and looked right at me.

"Adam!"

Well well well, what have we here?

Standing frozen in the doorway, a gape in his mouth was a man I had known since youth. He was a short, pudgy, plump man, who, despite being several years older than me, had the face of an obnoxious whiny child who had never been told no in his entire life. He was dressed in expensive clothing, but the colours were a mismatched eyesore and spoke very clearly for how clueless he was at representing his 'status' in society. He was raised rich, with a powerful father and a respected family name, but the problem was that this particular name had churned out an offspring who always believed the world was nought but a big golden ball for him to play with. He'd never strayed far from dear old daddy, that much I knew, even if I had been gone for years. He looked no different then he did the day I left. He hadn't changed at all.

And now here he stood, representing every bit of corruption that had thrived in my kingdom since my departure.

I could have purred. This was just too perfect.

"Bastien." I greeted calmly, standing fluidly to my feet. I walked right up to him, bent down so our faces were mere inches apart and whispered quietly, "Is that any way to address your future king?"

I watched in amusement as the left side of his mouth ticked, clearly contemptful of my authority. Bowing his head shallowly, he reluctantly sneered, "My apologies... Your Majesty."

A wheeze came from behind Bastien, and I looked away only to see Jacqueline, standing in the doorway completely frozen, her mouth ajar. Now, she knew who I was.

But more importantly, I was going to remind him.

"So... got yourself a job at the tax office have you? What happened? Father didn't think you were good enough to join him in court?"

His chubby, youthful face pursed like he'd been sucking on lemons as he visibly fought to bite back his reply. Given his father's high ranking position, he most likely wasn't used to being talked down to. Heck, even his 'bosses' at the tax office were probably strong-armed into hiring him there. We had a past, him and I, a rather lowly feud from when we were only children, but I was never one to let go of a grudge, and now was the perfect time to seek some petty revenge.

"Not at all Sire, father merely thought my talents would be better suited elsewhere." His pathetic glower was rather amusing, but I wanted to make him sweat.

"Oh? Like stealing possessions from old men, you mean?"

Bastien's flabby face suddenly flushed an indignant red. But not from embarrassment, oh no. He was livid. He glared angrily around my body at the gentleman still casually seated in his worn purple chair.

"What have you been telling the prince, old man?" He growled, as though he thought to shift the blame of this whole affair to the victim of his practice.

Mr Morette, who'd been sitting silently this entire time, merely looked in our general direction and smiled pleasantly. "Nothing more than the truth, my lord. That the tax-collectors have increased the tax on my property twice in the past few months. That I've been hounded to give over my estate to you on many multiple occasions, and that one of you come here every week to take my possessions and deliver a fresh threat. Many of you also are very unsavoury towards my dear Jacqueline, whom I know for a fact is never anything but polite. Why, just last week the man you sent went so far as to put his hands on her. I was not very happy about that. But then, as you yourself have so often said, who would listen to the complaints of a 'senile old man,' eh?"

I couldn't help the flicker of pride I felt for the old man, though his words struck an unexpected cord in me. He hadn't told me Jacqueline had been harassed. I didn't know why it mattered to me really, I had just met her. But her compassion and obviously caring nature did remind me of the certain brunette beauty I was in this very house for. And I didn't like it. No, no I did not.

"Well, isn't that odd," I growled lowly, forcing Bastien's self-righteous gaze back to my own. I knew I caught a flicker of fear.

"Because, if I remember my own by-laws correctly, an increase of tax on privately owned property is only something that can be instigated with my direct permission. Funny," I remarked, looking straight into his worried eyes, "I don't recall giving such consent."

He stared right back up at me, trying to stand firm, but the sharp bob at his throat let me know he knew what deep shit he was in, and now I got to watch him try to dig himself out of it.

"That's... That's rather above my pay grade, Sire. I only do as I'm told." He tried to sound convincing but I caught the shift in his eyes. Gotcha.

"Oh really? Tell me Mr Morette, just how long have the tax-collectors been trying to force you out of your own home?"

"Just under a year, Sire. Correct, Jacqueline?"

The woman's tender voice confirmed, "Yes Mr Morette, just under a year."

"Interesting, and, just so I'm clear, how long have you worked for the tax-collectors, Bastien?"

My eyes practically dared him to lie to me. He squirmed.

"Just under a year, Sire."

"What an extraordinary coincidence." I simpered, tilting my head, clearly mocking. His broad face was red right down to his neck, from both anger and embarrassment. He glared defiantly back, as though to challenge me, or my authority. I wasn't having any of it. I looked him dead in the eye, letting the smile melt from my face as I regarded him with cold dead determination.

"But, since you yourself said that your job is to 'follow orders', allow me to give an order to you." I took a step closer, getting right in his face. He didn't back down. We were inches apart.

"You are going to go back to your tax-collectors, and you are going to collect every single item you have taken from this man's house, and bring it back. You will then tell your bosses at your little tax office that if any of them ever so much as step one toe onto this property again, I'll have every single one of them locked in stocks in the centre of the town square. This tax increase that your office has put in place without my consent will be banished, and all extra money taken unlawfully from every home you've swindled will be returned. If it is not, I will personally walk right into the banks and empty every single last franc of your personal bank accounts to reimburse all the people you've stolen from. Do I make my self clear?"

"You can't-" His outrage was cut short when I grabbed the weasel by the front of his robes and slammed him straight against the brick wall. His gasp of pain was only partially covered by the squeak of surprise from Jacqueline, who dropped his coat and ran around me to join Mr Morette. I didn't let her fear distract me though. I crushed the rat into the wall and stared right through his fucking soul.

"I can do whatever the fuck I want! I am king! If I wanted, I could have your fucking face as a doormat! I could have you beaten in the town square, tied to horses and dragged all around my kingdom for your disrespect alone, so don't you fucking dare tell me what I can't fucking do!" I hissed, spit flying into his face though he made no move to remove it. He merely stared, wide-eyed and frozen, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I was fuming, and there was no doubt in my mind my eyes burned like the depths of hell.

"Now go, and remember what I said, if after every piece of furniture is returned back to its rightful place, any one of you bastards steps a single toe on this property, you are the one who will reap the consequences, so you best be a vigilant little messenger boy, and make sure everyone in your workplace understands. Understand?"

He merely nodded, glaring daggers into the floor, defeated.

With one last violent push, I shoved his ass towards the doorway, where he staggered and caught his footing before he face-planted right into the ugly carpet. The shaking of his hand was the only thing that betrayed his fear as he reached to the floor to scoop up his coat, using the movement to not so discreetly wipe my saliva from his cheek.

Wanting to deliver one last blow to his inflated ego, I followed him out to the foyer. Just as his hand brushed the cold metal door handle I called out,

"Oh, and Bastien," he half looked over his shoulder, "Tell Monsieur D'Arque I said hello."

The slamming of the door was his only reply.

That was stupid, my mind lectured, telling me it was far to soon to make that move, but I just couldn't help myself. These two, they seemed so... wholesome. Pure. The fact that the councils' influence was spreading to people like them made me furious, and I had to put a stop to it. I'd deal with the backlash later, right now, I had a mission to complete.

I returned to the parlour room to meet the gaping gaze of Jacqueline and the amused smirk of Mr Morette.

"So, Your Majesty, eh? I knew your name sounded familiar." He sounded nothing more than amused. Jacqueline started to stammer.

"I'm... I'm so-so sorry, Your Majesty! I had no idea I... I should... go and fetch some cakes!"

For some reason, her words made me burst with laughter, and I chuckled rather hysterically, joined of course by the old man who found the woman's words just as absurd. Luckily, she seemed to take my laughter in the spirit it was offered, and merely turned a bright, blooming pink, staring between the pair of us with an embarrassed genuine smile.

These two really were something.

And just like that, the atmosphere was no longer uncomfortable. The darkness no longer disconcerting. I suddenly felt bonded with these two complete strangers as we'd faced off against a common enemy, and the joy and happiness this old withered man seemed to embody was truly refreshing. As the manic laughter simmered to wide, friendly smiles, Mr Morette spoke again.

"Well, it seems the young man has solved quite a few of our problems single-handedly, dear Jacqueline. I think that serves as payment enough for his request." He said chipperly, taking a casual sip of his tea as though we were never interrupted. My heartbeat instantly quickened.

"Request?" Jacqueline repeated confused. Her bright opal eyes lingering on my face before turning back to the man.

"Ey, the young man came with a purpose, my dear. Please, sonny, tell my dear Jacqueline of what you seek. I think you've more than earned it after putting that little bastard in his place."

"Mr Morette!" Jacqueline scolded half-heartedly. The old man merely chuckled.

I hesitantly fished the book from my jacket pocket, tentatively holding it out to her.

"It's called 'Descending The Moon'. I was told you purchased a copy from the library. Please tell me you still have it." I practically pleaded, cradling the precious item in my palms as though it held the key to my life happiness. Jacqueline merely stared, looking rather puzzled.

"It's alright, dear one. If the book is here, please fetch it for him. He's more than earned it."

Nodding her head, she looked down at the wilted pages of the small blue book and softly asked, "May I?"

Seemingly sensing my reluctance she tenderly added, "I'll be gentle."

"Take a seat, dear boy," the old man said as I watched the woman walk from the room with the most treasured object I'd ever had. I couldn't help but feel naked without it.

Obeying his request, I reclaimed my seat on the uncomfortable, worn wooden armchair, and waited.

I didn't have to wait long.

"So, you're a prince, sonny?" The old man asked, as though entirely unimpressed. I found I rather liked the way he spoke to me. Like he was simply too old to care.

"Yes."

"Hmm," He hummed, his left hand bunching the fabric of his breeches as he tapped his cane against the armchair with his right.

"Then, if you don't mind my asking, why did you waste your time by coming here to ask for something you could have simply taken?"

His question threw me off guard. He wasn't hostile, in fact, he was smiling wider than ever, but was he really implying that was something he would have expected I do? Granted, if it had been anyone else... if they had refused even after I had offered compensation for whatever reason, I might have resorted to...

But I knew the real answer to the man's question. Somehow even knew it was the answer he was looking for.

"She wouldn't want me to do that."

"She?"

"Yes," I pulled my coat awkwardly around my chest as though forming a shield. "She'd be furious if she found out that I got her gift by taking it from someone else. I don't even think she would accept it, and she would definitely make me return it, after ripping me a new one." I snickered quietly, knowing everything I was saying to be true. As kind and gentle as she was, she had quite a temper, which I knew from experience could be explosive if provoked.

"So its a woman you wish to please?" Morette questioned, his mouth tipping in a cheeky grin. My silence was apparently answer enough.

"Curious creatures, aren't they? I never used to care for them in my youth, though my options were plenty. I had wealth, status, a respected name. My parents died young so all of this" He gestured a wrinkled arm around the room, "was mine. I wasted my youth on frivolous things, gambling and drink, with a fresh maiden on my arm every other week. I was foolish enough to think it would last forever, but the fates are never kind to those who mock them.

"When I began to lose my sight, everything else was, to, lost. I frantically searched for every solution, and watched my obscene wealth dwindle away with each useless 'experiment' I tried. No longer were bountiful women knocking on my door, after all, who wished to be saddled with a poor blind man for the rest of their lives. My plight made me bitter, and soon the servants left as well. Some I fired, some merely walked away, and I was left alone. I only grew more resentful as the years passed me by.

"Then, as though the heavens had decided I'd suffered enough, they sent me down an angel."

"Jacqueline?" I asked tentatively, entranced by the sheer awe on the man's wrinkled face.

"Poor thing came to my home, freezing and desperate. Her husband had left her, her family disowned her, and she had nowhere to go. Not knowing how blessed I was I reluctantly told her she could stay for the night, but no longer. The next morning I arose to a sound I had not heard in many many years," His smile lit the dim bleak room like a beacon.

"The little dove was singing, like a lark, mind you, but it made me smile. She'd fixed me breakfast, made me tea, and thanked me profusely for allowing her to stay, even though I had been entirely rude to her the night before. The moment that tea touched my lips... I knew I couldn't let her go. She's been with me ever since. My only companion. My one true friend. She's never left my side, and she cares for me so, even if I can be nothing more then a grouchy old man sometimes. It will hurt me dearly when I'm forced to leave this life, but after I am gone, I hope she can move on, find a man worthy of the love she bestows upon me so selflessly. I can only hope..." He trailed off, staring into nothing, and I was thankful he couldn't see me, because my throat had closed.

This man... he'd lived his whole life alone... only to find his one true love in a way I doubt he expected. No, I didn't think he was in love with her, but he did love her. The way a father would cherish a beloved daughter. They completed each other, as strange as I found it. They found each other at a time when they were both in need, and neither were willing to let the other go. I had a feeling that this man would cling to his life for as long as he could to stay with his friend, and I also knew that when that time came, she would want him to go, only so he wouldn't suffer.

I swallowed harshly, difficult emotions swirling through my body. I was just as he had been. Young, rich, and reckless. And yet, he'd found love, not when he'd wanted it, but when he needed it most. It gave me a strange sense of hope, that even with what a helpless case I was, that someone, would, one day, love me.

AAA

I held the book fiercely to my chest as I climbed into my carriage and set off back to Ingeniere. The fresh blue cover over miraculously intact pages felt like I was holding a blessing from the heavens.

I couldn't thank them enough.

The compassion of those two extraordinary beings had done something to me I couldn't quite put my finger on. I wanted to help them. Relieve any unnecessary suffering the pair may have in the upcoming future. I'd have to keep an eye on their situation personally. Find someone I could trust who would ensure all the orders I'd given to Bastien were properly followed, and that the couple were set with enough wood to heat a thousand fireplaces for the remainder of winter.

Before I left I'd pulled Jacqueline to the side and told her that if she were ever bothered again, by anyone, to write to me, and I promised I would make sure both she and Mr Morette were provided for. She'd thanked me profusely with tears in her eyes, telling me how grateful she was for all I'd done. I couldn't find the words to tell her they'd both given me a gift far more precious. So I'd just patted her on the shoulder and rode off back to Gaston's castle, only stopping once when I spotted something in the window of one of the highstreet shops.

And now, here I was, being stared at by dozens of servants all watching me like prey watched their predator. My hand patted my back pocket, where Belle's solstice gift still sat, but I just... couldn't do it. I couldn't give it to her in front of all these strangers I had no regard for. In my mind, this moment needed to be perfect, special. We had to be alone. Where I was her only focus and she was mine. So I baulked. Pushing the wrapped book further down my pocket, I backed away to the door slowly. Belle's curious, confused gaze followed as I bent to retrieve the larger gift I had seen in the store window. I had no idea what possessed me to purchase it but... here I was.

I held the rather large gift in both arms, set it down on the ground and said, "This is for Chip."

"For me?" Came an excited squeal from amidst the throngs of servants. The little boy fought his way through the crowd just... standing there, staring. I felt the urge to snap at them all to mind their own business, but I didn't want this moment to be spoiled by my rotten temper.

Belle was watching in amazement as little Chip ran up to the rather large gift sitting on the ground, marvelling the fact that it was almost the size of him. His mother popped her head out not a moment later, but Chip's voice captured my attention before I could see her reaction.

"Wow! Is it really mine?! Can I open it, mister, can I? Can I pleeeeeeease?!"

I chuckled. This kid was just too much.

"Of course," I said, watching his smile widen, "It's yours after all."

He released a squeal the likes of which I had never heard, before tearing head first into the present. Brown paper packaging flew everywhere as little Chip tore into his gift with the enthusiasm only a child could fathom. Finally, as he pulled the last piece of paper away, he gasped at the sight before him.

Sitting on the ground, admits a disarray of shredded wrapping and ribbon, was a stunning red rocking horse.

"Mama! Mama! Look! It's a rocking horse! A rocking horse, Mama! Belle, Mama, look!" He screamed excitedly, practically glowing with joy. He laughed hysterically as he climbed upon it, rocking wildly back and forth, sunlight shining through his cheeks.

Feeling satisfied, I looked away from the delighted child only to be met with a sight I did not in a million years expect. Belle and Mrs Potts stood together, practically shoulder to shoulder, both staring at me with tears in their eyes. For a frantic half second, I thought I'd upset them, before Mrs Potts crashed into me. I stumbled back but managed to hold steady as the older woman engulfed me in her arms. She barely met my shoulders, but man this woman could squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Adam! Thank you, thank you! I don't know how to thank you!" She was practically sobbing, crushing me in her hold and crying out so much gratitude I didn't have the heart to pull away, even if I feared the health of my ribcage. My eyes couldn't help but meet Belle's as I awkwardly patted Mrs Potts' back, and her face shone with happiness. Right then and there I knew I'd done the right thing. And it felt... great.

AAA

I almost didn't want to leave. After Mrs Potts released me from her crushing hold to join her son in admiring his rather large, freshly carved, brightly coloured rocking horse, Belle had graciously invited me to join them. And for a moment, I almost considered it... but then...

Despite the joy I felt at bringing little Chip such happiness, I knew I didn't belong there. Royalty in a room full of servants, despite how comfortable I felt with a bare few of them, would not have worked. I wouldn't have fit in, and it would have made the happy, cheerful group into nervous, quiet wrecks, terrified to say the wrong thing in front of me, for fear of punishment.

And yet, I couldn't help but let Belle's disappointed face go to my head. She wanted to be with me, I knew she did. She wanted to spend time with me. Maybe not as desperately as I did her, but it was still a start.

After leaving, I reluctantly trudged back to the 'party' where, surprisingly, Gaston was still sitting, sipping from his glass and staring off into the depths of the burning fireplace. I slipped back into my chair as though I had never left, and clung to the image of Belle's happy, shining face as the hours surrounded by loud drunken nobles dragged on and on. Finally, finally, the cursed day was over. The clock struck midnight and no more Christmas. It was done. Finished. Tomorrow all decorations would be taken down and everything would go back to normal for another year. I was only too happy to rise from my seat and leave, feeling an icy set of eyes watching intently as I went.

Hours later, and I couldn't sleep. I was tired and drained from the night before, yet I just couldn't get my mind to settle. My eyes kept opening to stare at the brown paper package sitting silently on the bedside table. I had wanted to give it to her on Christmas day, but, fate wasn't on my side. I didn't want Gaston to get suspicious of just how attached I was growing to his... whatever he considered her. So, I hadn't tried to seek her out again after I left the 'celebration'.

It was odd. For all the anticipation building when I'd been looking for it, all the happiness I felt when I finally had it in my arms I was now starting to wonder...

What if she didn't like it? What if she got angry at me for thinking she wanted a new one, when it was the old, mangled copy she was attached to? What if she just didn't care either way, and threw it back in my face?

I felt ridiculous for even entertaining these fears, but I'd never... I'd never gone out of my way to get someone a gift before, and remembering how happy Chip was... it just made me cling to the possibilities of making her that happy, because, well, she kind of deserved it, I guessed.

Letting out an agitated huff, I finally admitted defeat and swung my legs out of bed. Perhaps a warm drink or a brisk walk would put some sleep in me. Placing the wrapped parcel in my robe pocket for no apparent reason at all, I headed out the door.

The castle was as quiet as you'd imagine for so early in the morning, as I trudged wearily through empty hallway after hallway to get to the stairs. Dragging my feet past the passage leading to the kitchen, I stopped and froze when I caught a glimpse of familiar brunette hair.

Suspicious, I crept into the ballroom through the side entrance and, sure enough, there she was. Pulling tinsel away from the spiralling bannisters of the magnificent marble staircase. What the..?

"Belle?" She jumped as my call echoed loudly around the empty hall, near stumbling down a step but catching herself on the bannister. I walked right in, she stared down at me wide-eyed.

"Hey. What are you doing up so late?" I shrugged off her question in favour of simply looking at her. Her hair was up in a messy bun, some chocolate ringlets falling down to caress her milky shoulders. She was wearing the same red dress from earlier, so she most likely hadn't even been to bed yet. I looked around the room, seeing a good chunk of decorations laying in a pile in the centre of the floor. Was she seriously... cleaning?

"I could ask you the same question. Although..." I let my sentence trail off, lingering on the pile of tinsel and mess.

"I couldn't sleep," She admitted sheepishly, "Thought I'd get a head start on this, the servants will have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

Of course. "Why couldn't you sleep?" I asked, walking up the steps towards her. Planting myself on the cold marble, I patted the space beside me. She bit her bottom lip before letting the tinsel fall to the floor, adjusting her dress and settling. God, she was beautiful.

"Never can, this time of year. When I was younger it used to be a family tradition at Christmas, staying up past midnight. 'Course, when I was younger I could never do it. I'll never forget how proud I felt the first time I managed to stay awake all through the night until the next morning. My parents thought it was adorable."

I couldn't help but agree with them as her little nose crinkled at the memory. My stare didn't falter as the smile slid from her face. "After my mother past, my father stopped, but I couldn't help continuing our tradition, its one of the ways I stay close to her, you know?"

No, I didn't really, but I wasn't about to tarnish her memory by reminding her of my shitty childhood. She didn't seem content to let the silence linger though, because she turned her body to face me and asked, "So, how was your Christmas?"

I chuckled dryly. "Pretty much the same as every year, Belle," I replied dismissively, picking imaginary lint off my sleeping trousers. She shot me a harmless scowl.

"Oh, come on. You're saying you didn't have even a little fun?"

"I don't have fun on Christmas, Belle. It's nothing special to me. Just one more day with a few extra reminders of bad memories." I felt rather pitiful when her lips puckered in a frown, but it was so hard to keep things bottled up around her. She was just so easy to talk to.

"Well... you may not have had a great day, but you made Chip's Christmas," She insisted. I let out a quiet snort. Sure.

"I'm serious Adam, he is never going to forget today. The happiness you gave him will stay with him for the rest of his life. You should at least feel good about that." She told me with a smile.

I couldn't help but contemplate her words, staring off into the massive empty hall. Did I feel happy for Chip? Well, I was glad I'd made him smile, I supposed, but it wasn't like I changed his life or anything. It was just a solstice present. I honestly didn't even know what possessed me to get it for him in the first place.

And as if hearing my thoughts, "Can I ask... why you bought it for him?"

I gave her a single half shrug, leaning back on my arms, my gaze frozen on the intricate mural painted on the ceiling. "I remembered the day we were all in the library, and you were reading him that story about the boy and his rocking horse. I remembered how he said he wished he had one, and so when I saw it in the store window, I just thought it would be..."

"Nice?"

I pulled a face, "I guess."

Her sweet little giggle followed my inept reply, and I turned to catch her wiping a small tear from the corner of her eye. "Oh, Adam," she gasped, before throwing her head back and continuing to chuckle merrily. A small smile made its way to my lips at the sound of her joy. I just couldn't help it. Gods, this girl.

After a while of letting her laughter wear itself out, she jumped back to her feet and said, "Well, come on then, if you're going to sulk through the rest of the night you may as well be helpful doing so."

"What?" I asked in confusion, watching her walk back up the few steps towards the long line of tinsel she'd been pulling from the bannister. She gave me a pointed look.

"Come on, unless you're afraid a little manual labour will blister those soft royal hands of yours," She quipped.

Blister my hands. Pshhh. I'd show her.

Cleaning was actually pretty fun with Belle beside me. We laughed and joked. She told me about all the Christmas traditions the servants had, and how much fun she'd had with them. I couldn't even find it in me to be envious, seeing the pure rapture shine from her face. I was glad she was accepted by at least the majority of the servants in the castle, and happy that Gaston's edict that they keep their distance from her seemed to have faded just like she insisted it would.

I thought I was doing a pretty good job in helping her clean, as well. Really, I didn't know why the servants always looked so tired, if their work was this easy. I was doing a great job. That was, until my foot got caught in the mountain of tinsel I was carrying and I ended up falling face first into the large pile of decorations in the centre of the room. Belle's laughter echoed through the hall as she ran over to pull me up. I couldn't help the burn in my cheeks as I brushed the colourful, sparkly glitter off my shirt and out of my hair. Still, despite my painful embarrassment, her laughter was contagious, and I cackled right alongside her. It was only when she bent down to free my foot from the tangled mess that my smile suddenly died.

"There, all free, you really should be more careful, wouldn't want the holidays to be ruined because a prince was murdered by Christmas-"

"What's that?" I asked abruptly, pointing to the shiny sparkling object that had viciously grabbed my attention. Belle straightened, followed my gaze to her neck, then turned completely bright red.

There, dangling loosely from a thin silver chain, was a huge gleaming oval diamond. It was enormous. It twinkled and glinted, seeming to catch the light with every slight movement she made. The only reason I could think of having missed it before was because the chain was long enough for her to hide the thing. And as I watched her quickly tuck it away beneath the collar of her dress, my intrigue spiked.

"Oh," she murmured awkwardly, Smile long forgotten. "That's just... a solstice gift."

My eyebrows must have gone through my forehead. I had been around jewels and gems all my life, and I'd certainly seen enough on my mother's fingers to know a real diamond when I saw one, who in the world..?

"From Gaston." She finished. Ah. Of course.

A sharp unexplainable pain twisted in my gut, for a reason I had no explanation for. Why would it surprise me he would also buy her a gift. She was, for all accounts and purposes, his. She belonged to him, as she herself had said, and we were only friends.

Suddenly, the uncomfortable feeling I had about her gift came crashing right back. Gaston must have spent a fortune on that thing for her, whereas I had merely taken her gift from a sweet old man who was gracious enough to give it to me. If I gave her the book now, would she turn her nose up at it, mock me and compare my pitiful present to Gaston's? No, no she wouldn't, that wasn't who she was. But would that be what she'd be thinking as she forced a smile and thanked me?

Too many doubts. Too many questions. My finger itched towards the lump in my robe pocket before I noticed something... odd.

Belle had turned away, her body facing me but her head staring firmly at the ground. That diamond was huge, certainly something any normal woman would be ecstatic about flaunting. And yet...

"Do... do you not like it?" I asked her tentatively. She had tucked it away in her dress, instead of having it out for all to see. What other explanation was there that...

"It's lovely," She insisted in a tone that allowed no further discussion, and yet something about the way she said it made me think she wasn't being entirely honest.

"It's just," She continued, I was hanging on every word, "A little excessive... for a servant."

And the penny dropped.

It wasn't that she disliked Gaston's gift, it was that she didn't think she was worthy of it. Something like a diamond, or expensive clothing, were not to Belle's taste. She was raised on a farm, she actively did chores and housework, she worked her butt off in this castle even though such tasks were not required of her. Such an elaborate gift... she probably had no idea what to do with. A memory from Christmas Eve came to mind. "Is that why Gaston was angry with you at the ball?"

She looked up, her soft pink lips pulling down in a frown as her big brown eyes widened despairingly.

"You noticed?"

I looked at her apologetically.

"I think everyone did."

She sighed.

"I don't know why he's always drawing such attention to us. He knows his father hates it. But its like... he goes out of his way to make him mad, completely uncaring for the consequences. This," She whispered, pulling the diamond back out from her cleavage, "Its... it's lovely. It's certainly the most extravagant thing anyone has ever given me. But I didn't think it appropriate to wear it while waiting on nobility and he just... lost it. Telling me how much gold he'd spent and how grateful I should be, and how ungrateful I was. I am grateful. It's beautiful, but... am I suppose to adorn such wealth while scrubbing floors and polishing silverware? I would have been far happier with something simple. It just... baffles me how he continues to misunderstand..."

She trailed off, staring at the stunning gem with eyes filled with regret. Did she feel guilty that she could not appreciate the gift, or was something more on her mind? Did she want him to understand her better? Did she want him... at all?

The thought made me sick, I just couldn't stop myself. Watching her nimble fingers play with the pendant, I blurted, "I got you a gift to."

Her gaze shot up to mine, the diamond falling from her fingers, forgotten.

"You... you did?" She asked in amazement, as though she could not believe her ears.

Too late to back out now.

With a quivering hand, I hesitantly reached into the pocket of my robe, pulling the brown paper package from its depths. Belle's eyes swelled at the sight of it, as though she truly hadn't believed me until I presented proof.

"I... I was going to give it to you yesterday but... I couldn't find the right time. So... I guess... Merry Christmas." I told her squeakily, practically shoving the thing into her hands so as to hide how badly mine were shaking. She looked utterly bewildered at the parcel in her palms, and I wanted to yell at her to just spare me the torment and open it already. But, not wanting to scare her, I wisely bit my tongue, practically vibrating in place as her soft fingers gently ripped the wrapping away. I was staring at her face the whole time, and when that last bit of paper fell...

A sound the likes of which I'd never heard tore from her throat. It sounded as though she had gasped and choked all at once. Her mouth hung open and her eyes filled with tears.

Fuck! No! She doesn't like it! Fuck!

I watched in despair as a single, tragic tear dripped down her cheek and landed on the little blue book clutched in her quaking hands. She wouldn't look away, her glistening eyes practically searing right through it. I thought she would like it. My heart broke when I heard her whimper.

"Belle I'm... I'm sor-"

She launched at me. Her small body slamming into mine as her arms wound tightly around my neck, clinging to me like a child and sobbing wildly.

"Adam! Th-than-thank you! Thank you so much I- I can't believe it- I..." She cried between gasps, gripping to me tighter as her tears dripped down my neck. It took an extraordinarily long moment for me to realise that this girl, the girl I'd been fantasising about, the girl who had been in my dreams for months, was in my embrace. And I was just standing there like an idiot. I couldn't even think.

Immediately, I twined my arms around her back and pulled her ever closer, rubbing her back comfortingly as she wept and sobbed all over me. Was she really that happy? Well, gee... it was... just a book.

After what felt like a long time, and not nearly time enough, she slowly, slowly, pulled herself away from me. Her eyes were red and dry from tears, her cheeks were flushed and stained, her nose was sore.

She was the most perfect thing I'd ever seen.

I merely watched her, unwavering, as she panted and attempted to pull herself together. She clutched the book to her chest like a mother would a newborn baby. With care, pride and fiercely protective.

"Thank you, Adam," She whimpered weakly, wiping more tears away, eyes hungrily drinking in the book. "You have no idea how much this means. I... thank you."

She sounded so fragile, like she was close to breaking. I thought it was simply a book she enjoyed, but her reaction...

"Belle-"

"It was my mothers," She sniffled, before I could even ask. "It was my mother's favourite book. It was the last book she read to me while she lay sick on her deathbed. When we left that cottage and came to this castle, it was the only thing I could bring. Everything else was left there. This was the last thing I had of hers and... when I lost it... I felt like I lost a part of her too." Then finally, miraculously, her head rose to me. Her stunning golden eyes bore into mine as she whispered a weakened,

"Thank you."

Without a single second thought, I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers.