Chapter 25- Enchanted War and Agathe's Remorse
…
After Gaston's hearing ended, Emilie sought out Jean and Clémence. She found them sitting in a quiet corner, and they rushed to give her hugs of support. All of the mixed emotions the young couple struggled with the previous day and during the hearing were unleashed that moment. Clémence was in full tears, and Jean was on the verge, his eyes bloodshot, running his hands through his hair in agitation.
"This shocks me beyond all belief!" he said a fierce whisper. "I mean, ever since I've known him the last year he's had kind of a crazy streak. But...I can't...I just can't fathom all this! Attempted murder? Tying the Princess' father to a tree for wolves? Shooting the Prince? I feel like we never knew him."
"I still can't believe he did all those terrible things," Clémence said, wiping her eyes. "I don't know if I can ever think of him the same."
"He's not the same. It sounds like he confessed, and repented, but when he started talking about his magic curse and how that woman Agathe controlled him like a puppet and 'brought him here'- that doesn't make sense! We all came here because His Honor the Marquis was invited to the Prince's party. He came willingly. Nothing makes sense!"
"Jean," Clémence said, getting over her tears and trying to calm her angry husband, "Why don't we visit him and talk with him about these things?"
"I know we should, but I still feel like he's been lying to us all this time. I don't understand."
"Jean, honey," said Clémence, laying her hand gently on her husband's arm,"The Prince and Princess forgave him and they only sentenced him a month in the dungeon. He won't be going home with us. I think we should at least wish him well and try to understand. He's still our friend."
"Luc was my friend," said Jean. "He wasn't even real. This Gaston? I never would have been friends with someone who committed acts like that."
Jean left the the library, Clémence joining him. Emilie knew that Jean simply felt the same as she had at first. She couldn't blame him. Jean, Clémence, and Adelaide would be leaving the castle with the Marquis and his family the next day.
Emilie planned to stay with Gaston. She'd worry about getting home later. In the meantime, she would gladly help the servants in their tasks; she'd already formed a friendship with the Potts family. Little Chip could always use someone to mind him.
"Mademoiselle Emilie?"
Marcel came up beside Emilie in the library, breaking away from his sister and brother-in-law to approach her.
"Hello, Monsieur Clement! Thank you for helping with the hearing by using your enchantments. It helped Adam and Belle with communication, and for us to watch and listen," she told him graciously.
"You're welcome. Emilie. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure! If you're wondering if any of us were scared of the magic, yes. A few people were! But most of us got used to it," Emilie said lightly.
"Oh, yes that's understandable!" laughed Marcel. "But I wanted to ask- if you see your sister tonight, could you give her my best wishes and farewells? I...well, the truth is...she befriended me during the trip here, and even though I haven't known Adelaide for long, I was very touched by her...her joy, her smile...Send her my fond wishes, won't you?" He looked to be a bit bashful, fidgeting with the Magic Mirror he was holding.
"Monsieur Clement, I haven't seen her the last few hours," Emilie said, noting Adelaide's absence at both the hearing and luncheon. "She wasn't with us for that nice meal earlier, which is very unlike her! Normally, if there's desserts within a mile, she'll sniff them out and bring two plates." She laughed softly.
"Really? I looked for her in the dining room, too. I didn't see her."
"Evangeline said she went outside for some fresh air. But Marcel- Addie was one of the people who became scared when everyone was just talking about magic curses. That means- she doesn't know about you yet! Are you going to let her know about your...abilities?"
He sighed. "I don't know. It doesn't matter anyway, since I-" His words trailed with another sad sigh as he and Emilie walked out into the hallway together. "If she doesn't show up soon, maybe we could look for her outside," he suggested.
"Could you help me look for her now?" Emilie asked.
"Yes- of course I can."
When they were in a private corner of the hallway, Marcel took his Mirror out of his pocket. "I suppose...since I'm already in too deep with my antics today, why not? What's one more violation?" he said with a bit of woeful humor.
"Violation? What do you mean?" Emilie asked, the question ignored by the Enchanter. He stared with concentration into his Magic Mirror.
"Show me Mademoiselle Adelaide," he whispered.
"Do you see her yet?"
"Oh no," Marcel said in shock once Adelaide and her whereabouts appeared in his Mirror.
"Is she ill? Is she hurt?"
"She's crying. Just sitting and crying, poor thing...I think she's sitting outside by water? A riverbank?"
"Let's go!" Emilie exclaimed. She and Marcel rushed outside and down the stone staircase. It was now late afternoon, around five. The servants were beginning to prepare another delicious dinner, and perhaps that might coax Addie back to the castle if she were upset about something.
"Emilie," Marcel said, "I think it's best I find her myself. She doesn't look like she's hurt, just very sad. But if I need to use magic outside this castle...I'd rather there be as few innocent witnesses as possible. In case...well, I promise I'll find her." Marcel sounded as if he were evasive or worried about something. Whatever it was, it wasn't Emilie's business.
"Are you sure you're all right with using the Magic Mirror to find her?" she asked.
"Yes. I may as well. The Mirror can locate Adelaide faster, and I'll get to her within minutes."
"All right. Please find her as soon as you can, Monsieur Clement," Emilie said. "If she's upset, please tell her I'll talk to her!"
…
"Lorette? Lorette!"
Adelaide meandered through the castle grounds, calling for her cat. She hadn't wanted to bring her into the castle, it was huge and she would've been lost there. Adelaide had searched through the entire carriage, but the cat had escaped.
She wanted to cry. This was supposed to have been a wonderful trip, the chance of a lifetime, attending a Prince's birthday party. Instead, minutes after they had walked into the ballroom, Monsieur Luc was mistaken for a criminal, chased off and whisked to the dungeon! Poor Emilie had been devastated.
At least Princess Belle had taken Emilie into the West Wing to hear her side of the story. Perhaps this would all be settled by tomorrow. A simple case of mistaken identity. The Prince would let Luc go, and they could all head back on the journey home tomorrow.
Unfortunately, Adelaide was becoming plagued with doubts and suspicions about Luc. She wasn't even certain if Monsieur Luc was 'Monsieur Luc' anymore. The notion that her friend was a mad assassin who'd shot the Prince had been absurd. However- she couldn't get over the way Princess Belle had looked at Luc. With condemnation and fury. Telling him his 'vile and disgusting schemes' wouldn't work. It raised suspicions that Adelaide didn't want to face.
Adelaide had argued on Luc's behalf, trying to defend him at first. But on this day, the more people she encountered and the more pitiful looks she received, the more she realized that her sister's love may have been living a double life after all.
Weird talk of magic and spells and curses in the castle disturbed her. While she was with Evangeline earlier, they'd encountered one of Adam's party guests running through the hallway like a maniac, yelling that the library was haunted. He said books were flying out of the shelves, soaring through the air.
That was the last straw. Adelaide left the castle then and began to wander outside. The rose gardens were beautiful, the statues and fountains a joy to walk through. She had gone back to the closed coach to check on little Lorette- and the cat was missing.
Adelaide, taking a guess where the curious kitten would have gone, walked out to the river flowing through the forest. The recent rains had made it flow fresh, bubbling in rapids along rocks. She followed the river's grassy bank, calling Lorette's name.
After walking a long distance from the castle, Adelaide spotted something at the edge of the water. Something beige-yellow in color, and small. Adelaide drew closer.
It was a kitten. Soaking wet, lying face down. Its little tail moved and bobbed with the rushing water, but its head was lodged between some rocks.
"Lorette!"
Adelaide screamed with horror as she scooped her pet into her arms. Lorette was cold, soaked, and lifeless.
She was gone. Lured away by naive feline curiosity and thirst for adventure.
Adelaide burst into tears, blaming herself for the loss. If only she'd gone to check on her earlier, or brought her into the castle and kept an eye on her there!
She held the wet little creature for what seemed like ages, grieving. Her new friend and latest crush Marcel had given her this pet. It had been such a sweet thing for him to do. If she saw him again, she couldn't forgive herself for allowing this to happen.
"Mademoiselle Adelaide!" a man's voice called out. "Emilie sent me to search for you! Are you all right?"
She turned to see the man she'd hoped to talk to again- but not like this. Grief and guilt kept her from wanting to answer him as she sat on the riverbank. It was a lovely summer day, the leaves whispering in the breeze, the water rushing.
Marcel sat next to her with a look of compassion. "Adelaide, what's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help you?" he asked.
She held the body of Lorette to her chest, gazing out at the bubbling rapids before admitting the truth.
"Lorette...she drowned! She escaped and ran away and now she's dead!" Slowly, she held out the soaked, lifeless animal in the cup of her hands, sobbing. "Marcel, I'm so sorry! I should have been looking after her better!"
"Oh, petit," he said softly. "Please don't blame yourself. I'm very sorry." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and let her lean against him. She lay the kitten carefully in the grass- such a tiny, short life. Marcel now felt like a fool for having transformed that beetle into a cat in the first place.
But it had been worth it. It was worth seeing her so bubbly and happy to receive an unexpected gift from him. And now, as she allowed him to hug her and hold her close, to share in her heartbreak for a little animal, it seemed almost worth it as well.
His conscience screamed to pull away from her, keep a physical and emotional distance. 'She's off limits,' it commanded. Adelaide was a Sans-Magie, and he had no business doing what he was doing, just as he had no business doing what he was about to do.
Overcome with wanting to make her smile again, Marcel took his magic wand out of his trousers pocket. Adelaide sat crying with her face nestled against his shoulder. Without her seeing, his other arm wrapped around her soft body, he touched the wand tip against the dead kitten's head.
Within moments, the little cat began to twitch and move. He watched Lorette's tiny dead eyes open and regain a spark of life, the soaked fur dry to a fluffy golden-beige again, the tail to start swaying.
"Adelaide?" he mumbled into her hair, his heart rate rising with worry. Would she be accepting? Would she be horrified? Did it even matter, since he couldn't be with her in the first place?
"What?" came her stuffed-up reply. Lorette gave a demanding little 'meow.'
Adelaide jerked her head away from his shoulder and saw the cat creeping into the long grass, right back towards the tempting water.
"Lorette!" she screeched, her cry almost burning Marcel's ears with its high pitch. She scooped the cat into her arms in desperation, and Marcel saw Lorette struggle in protest, even leaving a scratch on Adelaide's forearm. It drew a little blood, but the woman was much too caught up in joy and awe to mind.
"She's alive? How? How did this happen? Oh, Mon Dieu, Lorette, you naughty, naughty little thing! You scared me! Never, ever do that again!" Adelaide babbled, crying and laughing all at once. "Oh, Marcel, her heart is beating again, and how in the name of heaven did this happen?"
Adelaide searched Marcel's eyes as she hugged her pet close to her chest once more, now in giddy, confused joy.
"What's wrong?" she said as she saw that his expression was troubled.
"I did it."
"You did what?"
"I revived her. I brought Lorette back to life. I...I used this."
With a guilty expression as if he were a child caught in a candy jar, Marcel showed her the wand. It was made of smooth wood, nine inches long with a handle carved in intricate scrolls.
"I used magic."
"But magic is only supposed to be silly trickery, Marcel. You can't really bring a dead animal back to life, and I hope that you d-"
"Adelaide," he cut in. "Please, listen. I actually can. I'm an Enchanter."
Lorette meowed again. Adelaide pulled out of his arms, scooting away with a frown of reproach.
"It's the truth." He gave the wand a flick, and a bouquet of fragrant red and white roses appeared in his other hand.
"Oh my God!" she screamed. "How d-did you do that?"
"My powers. Please don't be scared. It's something I've always been able to do. I won't harm you. There are others you've met who have magical powers, just as I do."
Adelaide's eyes were round as saucers as she cradled her warm kitten, feeling Lorette's little heartbeat and staring at Marcel in disbelief.
"Who?"
"Do you remember Aloysius, who made a drink that your sister and...um, Monsieur Luc drank?"
"Yes," she whispered. "He healed them. That was magic?"
"Oui."
"How do you know him?"
"He and I belong to the same society. the Society of people born with Magical abilities."
"But I don't understand. You and he seem like such ordinary people! And...what about Luc's aunt? Agathe? People in the castle were accusing her of casting spells on him. I thought it was all craziness."
"I sometimes wish it was, Adelaide. I honestly do," Marcel said with a sober expression. "It's not all fun and games and 'abracadabra.'"
"How do you learn to do it?" Her fear was slowly turning into intrigue. She glanced down at the lovely bouquet of roses.
"I'd like you to have these, by the way," Marcel said with a shy smile. "And so would Lorette." He held the roses out to her and she took them; smelled them. Normal, fragrant roses.
"Thank you...how can I ever thank you for bringing her back to life?"
"No thanks needed, petit. It isn't difficult because I was born with the powers through my family line. Most of my family are Enchanters, except for Jacinta- Plumette. She was considered a 'Defective' and decided to live in your society when she grew up. While I had to learn all the refined skills and spell work in school. An Enchanted school. Many fond memories," he said with a laugh.
"Really?"
"Oui! I played the best sport on earth- the most exciting game you can imagine."
"What kind of game?" Adelaide asked, her eyes shining with joy as she cradled Lorette in her arms.
Marcel glanced around the riverbank and forest with caution and worry. No one had come for him...yet. For now, he just wanted to make these moments last.
"We flew on brooms," he replied with a fond smile. "Hitting balls around, almost like lacrosse in a way. Except, well, flying instead of running. My team won the school's championship the year I was sixteen."
"I don't believe it," Adelaide laughed. "I'd like to see you fly a broom. I usually picture ugly old All-Hallow's-Eve witches doing that. Not men who are...like you," she said, her cheeks heating up.
"Perhaps someday," Marcel said, his teasing smile mirroring hers. "And if you do, then I'm going to expect you to take a ride on a broom with me. Far up near the clouds."
"Oh my goodness, no! I couldn't. I'm terrified of heights!" Adelaide exclaimed.
"You won't be frightened. I would ride it so gently that even Lorette could perch atop the broom with us. Promise."
"Really?"
"I swear on King Arthur's sword!"
"Over Paris, maybe?"
"That would be amazing!" Marcel exclaimed giddily, before his face fell in doubt. "I only wish-"
"Wish what?"
"That I had time to do such a thing with you."
Lorette squirmed in Adelaide's grip. Adelaide loosened her hold and let the kitten scramble over to Marcel's knee where she settled, curling into a furry ball.
"You rescued her from that tree, so she must see you as your Papa," Adelaide said cheerily. She reached down to pet Lorette with her free hand. Marcel made the motion to pet her as well- a gesture which caused him to touch and caress Adelaide's hand. He quickly pulled it away.
"Sorry," he said with chagrin.
"There's no need to be sorry," said Adelaide, taking a deep breath to control her fluttering heart. "She's too small for both of our hands to fit over her, that's all. You're not improper." She collected the cat into her arms again.
Marcel realized right then that he wanted out.
There was a way, in fact. It came in the form of a punishment he was already due- but it came with a risk.
A loud 'crack!' sound pierced the air at that moment. The pleasant nature sounds of the river, the birdsong, and the rustling leaves silenced. Adelaide gave a little startled cry, and Lorette squirmed.
A man appeared out of nowhere. He was a youngish fellow of about thirty, fair haired and bearded with intense eyes, wearing a black suit and cloak. Adelaide recognized the man. Wasn't he the other coach driver on the way to the castle? The one who drove Marquis Antoine and his family here?
"Monsieur Sauvageon," Marcel said quietly as he stood up to face his chief officer. "I was expecting you."
Alexis Xavier Sauvageon's eyes were cold and condemning. "You know exactly why I'm here, correct?"
"Yes," Marcel whispered. "I know. And I admit I had no right doing those things."
"Out of all the people I've trusted, Clement, you- my best agent and worker- decided to betray me with not only one infraction of the law, but at least seven! Do you realize all the Laws of Exposure have you broken over the last two days?"
Calmly, Marcel began to list his infractions.
"Number nine- resurrection of dead creatures, be they natural or Magical. Number six- performing ostentatious acts of magic in front of a group of Sans-Magies for the purpose of amazing them. I did that at least twice, Monsieur. Number thirteen- using my powers to assist Sans-Magie courts of law or government. Number thirty-one, clause B- transfiguring one creature into another in order to impress a Sans-Magie. Number thirty-nine, clause C- preparing food by Magical means in front of a group of Sans-Magies. I helped the cooks make breakfast this morning, you see. Number forty- using my Mirror in sight of a Sans-Magie to locate people." He gulped and swallowed. "I think that's all, Monsieur."
Sauvageon took several steps toward him. Adelaide sat watching, shocked and frightened. The man took a magic wand out of his coat pocket and held it out to Marcel's temple, a scowl on his face.
"I don't think that's all, mon garçon. You know that I can read your mind."
"Yes," said Marcel. "You are a Lecteur d'Esprit, it's why you're such an effective officer-"
"So who's the girl?"
"Adelaide? She's a friend-" He winced at the wand being jabbed to his temple.
"You have feelings for this Sans-Magie? Have you defiled yourself with her?"
"What? No! I haven't touched her! Well, I hugged her, just earlier because-"
"Quiet! I know you're telling the truth." Sauvageon turned and fixed Adelaide with a harsh look. "Take your cat and go back to that castle, girl. Go away!"
"No I won't. Leave him alone!" Adelaide shouted, advancing towards the men. "I don't care about your stupid laws. Sure, I'm not one of you, but that doesn't mean Marcel can't use his gifts in kind ways to help people! And animals! I sure hope that lady Agathe casts the absolute nastiest curse on-"
"Shut up!" Sauvageon yelled, enraged. He flicked his wand at Adelaide and caused a small but stinging cut to appear on the flesh of her upper arm. She screamed, droplets of blood forming.
"One more word and it'll be your throat, wench!"
Adelaide fought tears as she looked at Marcel, whose eyes were pleading with her to be quiet and obey this man. She did, clutching her struggling cat in her arms and backing away. This other coachman from the journey had seemed like such a quiet, polite man. He'd been hiding his true character.
Sauvageon watched the woman retreating in fear, his gaze and attention off Marcel for a split second. Marcel used it to his advantage- in a swift movement, he drew and pointed his wand at Sauvageon.
A gold beam hit the man, causing ice to form over his skin. Sauvageon began to stumble, his face and body frozen. Marcel shouted out a spell which caused his former boss' wand to fly from his grip. It soared past Adelaide and landed in the river.
"You got him!" Adelaide found herself cheering.
Sauvageon clenched his frozen fists, and a blue glow formed around his body, the ice cracking and melting. He shouted a word which made his wand fly out of the river, back into his hand. He fired a curse at Marcel, who dodged the blue beam and retaliated, hurling another golden beam at Sauvageon.
Adelaide watched in astonishment as the two men battled, gold and blue beams flying, shouting spell words. Some magical phrases were in clear French, but most were of a foreign tongue she didn't know.
"You-" Marcel said in horrified anger as he fought- "You're not a man of law or justice at all! You're a hypocrite who hides behind your lofty position! You're doing...the same Dark deeds you claimed to...fight, and I will take you down someday! Or I'll find someone with more authority who can, I swear!"
"So, Clement," said Sauvageon in a mocking tone, firing blue beams from his wand while Marcel shielded himself with a sort of golden floating disc- "I'm going to be kind. I'm allowing you to choose your sentence. For the number of laws broken…you have two options for punishment. Do you know...what the options are?"
"Owww!" Marcel yelled at the stinging pain of a curse that hit his wand hand after his shield was broken. "Yes, I know them! Either a prison sentence of five years in the Maison pour Crimes Noirs, or lifelong Wand and Mirror loss with expulsion from Magical Society!" he said in a tortured voice.
Sauvageon hit Marcel with a blue beam to the stomach, knocking him to the ground. He rushed up to the man lying defeated and pressed his wand tip against his hairline. "Choose, then! One or the other!"
"Just please don't order me expelled from our Society, or take my wand and Mirror! I have no means of doing anything-"
"So you choose prison?" Sauvageon laughed. "Your wish is granted. A prison sentence it is."
Marcel's face crumpled in anguish. "No! Please!" he cried out.
Adelaide's heart sank as she watched this cruel scene play out. She'd been right to dislike talk about magic. It wasn't just 'stupid.' It was horrible!
"Thought you could trick me?" mocked Sauvageon. "Of course I knew expulsion was what you wanted! I could hear your inner longings, the fact you've grown weary of our Society, our laws and government. You want to be with them!"
"You're correct, Monsieur! I do want to be with them!" Marcel spat with unbridled contempt. "Le Ministère and Magical France have been growing more corrupt for years. You can take our 'Society' and shove it where Bartholomé Bertrand likes his kisses of honor!"
Sauvageon withdrew the wand from Marcel's forehead. He stood and crossed his arms with a sneer. "Now that you've insulted Monsieur Bertrand, we'll add a few years. Your punishment has to be effective. I'll make sure you will never speak to or see a Sans-Magie again. That includes this...girl, and it includes your Defective sister."
"Leave my sister out of this!" Marcel cried. "She has a much better life than I have, or you do! She married a man for love, not because of blood purity and all sorts of-"
To Adelaide's horror, he was silenced by a loud whoosh! sound as the two men vanished.
Blue, glowing haze hung in the air for a second, then faded away. The only sounds Adelaide could hear now were the normal, natural sounds of the rushing river and birdsong.
She stood alone by the riverbank with little Lorette safe and alive in her arms, a bouquet of roses, and the lingering pain of a stinging, bleeding cut. After the shock of what happened sunk in, she rushed back to the castle, her heart crushed.
…
The Maison pour Crimes Noirs was a harsh, unnerving place.
The entire complex was beneath Paris, and could only be entered and exited with an official officer or jailer. Cell blocks made of glass windows instead of iron bars were stacked in rows four stories high.
Prisoners could hear and see each other at all times, allowing no privacy. Magical creatures prowled standing guard outside the cell blocks- giant black cats with great creepy blue eyes, enormous centipede-like creatures that slithered on a hundred bristly legs. Between the stories of cell blocks was a chasm filled with water, teeming with dangerous aquatic creatures- transparent green eels that shocked like lightning, ugly things that looked like driftwood with fins and fangs.
It was there that Alexis Sauvageon placed Marcel Clement in custody, barely saying a word as the two men walked past creatures that tried to jump on them. The great cats were shooed off by Sauvageon's wand. He shocked them with sparks, and the cats growled and cowered away. It was surprisingly kind of the officer.
"I hope and pray that you'll join us!" Marcel declared as the glass door closed and locked on him. Sauvageon walked away.
He sat alone for some time in misery, trying to avoid looking at those monster centipedes and the jeers of the prisoners across the chasm. One of the immense cats strode past on long prowling legs, and he was reminded of the little cat which Adelaide still held and loved this very moment. At least she had something to remember him by.
"Marcel, is that you?" a woman's voice called.
Agathe Sauvageon. The very person he'd set up to be imprisoned here, under Alexis Sauvageon's orders. She occupied the glass cell to his left.
"Agathe?"
"I suppose I ought to say...welcome?" she said sadly.
She was in her more youthful form, but her features were shadowed with dark circles and bloodshot eyes. Her skin was pale white, her blonde hair hung limp.
"I suppose you're happy to see me here. Considering my role in your capture." Marcel said as he looked at her painfully, touching the glass door of his cell. He turned away from her. Across the chasm of water, a big scraggly-haired man locked eyes with him. He began to jeer with a maniacal laugh.
"I'm a werewolf, I'll let you know! Every full moon I break through this glass and bite myself a new Frère d'Armes! You're next!" Cheers of wolf-howls from around the cellblock supported his threat.
"My fate isn't entirely your doing, Marcel," said Agathe with a forgiving tone. Both chose to ignore the werewolves for now. "Alexis made you into one of his yes-men, and now you've seen his true darkness."
"He threw a skin-cutting curse at an innocent woman before we arrived here," Marcel said, feeling grateful for the company. He never would have imagined being on Agathe's side weeks ago.
"A Sans-Magie woman?"
"Oui."
"It doesn't matter if officers do such things. Minister Bertrand is open with his hatred of Sans-Magies," said Agathe. "Our leader turns a blind eye at abuses of power, and I'm sure my nephew Alexis is one of many officers who takes pleasure in mistreatment."
"Agathe, forgive the question, but don't you think you've abused your power in the past? Mistreated a non-Magical? Just an innocent question, mind you. Since you can't harm me through this pane of glass," Marcel said in a polite tone tinged with an edge.
Agathe shook her head, a sting of remorse that he believed she had such capabilities. "I won't harm you. I never truly wanted to harm anyone."
"Really?" Marcel pressed.
She recalled the excruciating pain-curses she'd unleashed upon Luc- first in that Paris pub, then the establishment of ill repute, and later when Luc killed both a rat and a fox.
Those curses were legitimately Dark. She'd been desperate to keep Gaston, or 'Luc,' out of trouble at the time. Unfortunately, she gave in to poor choices.
"You are right," she said with regret. "I meddled too much, and...I used too much punitive force. Partly out of a want for power, but also because I felt so much satisfaction transforming bad people into kind, decent ones. I could almost compare it with a naughty child, I suppose. Instead of guiding the 'naughty child,' I swatted his bottom with a stinging rod."
"And you know it was wrong. Although, sometimes naughty children could use a tap on the hand," said Marcel. "You know...my earliest memory has to be my older sister Jacinta Colombe. A 'Defective'- I despise that term! She looked after me when I was little. I misbehaved a lot, using magic because it was fun. I remember her swatting my hands to stop me from flying the broom she was using to sweep with. I must have been four, I could have hurt myself." He laughed sadly. "I will miss her. I think she loved being able to fly like a dove during the curse on the Prince, but-" His expression fell.
"I terribly regret what happened to your sister and the others," said Agathe in a weary voice that sounded more like her 'old hag' form than her true one. "I regret setting up the Bête curse on Prince Adam the way I did. Forcing your sister to become a dead object if he didn't have a declaration of love by the time the rose petals fell."
"I'm glad you have regrets about that," Marcel said darkly. "Do you know anything about my sister besides the fact she's a Defective? When you visited the castle this year, did you get to know any of those servants?"
"I spoke only to Adam and his new wife Belle. Not the staff, I don't know them well. I remember your sister when she was very young, but it was so long ago."
"They are good people. They could have died," Marcel pressed.
"Is there ever a way you can forgive me?"
"I...I want to, but to be honest, I keep thinking about what would've happened if the curse continued," Marcel admitted.
"I realized my mistake. I tried to make it right, though I waited too long. I corrected it at the last minute. Please understand."
There was a lull in the conversation as Marcel hung his head in thought. "They all lived. They're all happy and well now," he finally said.
"Yes. They are, and we can both be at peace in spite of this. Adam's redemption, your role putting me here. Knowing that we did what we did for a greater good." She sighed with a bit of sad relief. "And here is what I also regret. Once I cast a punishing curse and caused a spoiled, selfish prince to mend his ways and learn to love, I felt a triumph and wanted to do it again, at greater risk! And with an even worse person. And now I'm paying the price. But what tortures me most isn't this prison cell. For me, it's not being certain he stayed redeemed. The prison officers even took away his coat button!" she confided, near tears.
"You mean Gaston?"
"Yes. I dread to think he found his way back to Prince Adam's castle and his curse was broken. If you know whether or not that came to pass- please don't tell me. I want to die hoping that he was changed and redeemed and found love."
"You're a romantic at heart, aren't you?" Marcel asked her.
"I am," said Agathe. "It's my greatest weakness. The desire for happy endings, for love- combined with my ego and my desperation to force those happy endings. To change people using the power of my wand. Which I no longer have."
"You and I have a lot in common, I guess," said Marcel. "I'm a hopeless romantic, too. Love is one the things which caused me to act irrationally. I'm here for breaking many Exposure laws...a few of them I broke because of a woman."
"I'm sorry for what happened," said Agathe.
"I accept your apology," Marcel replied. "Although I don't have much of a choice, I would rather have a friend in the cell next to me, rather than a foe."
"That's understandable," said Agathe.
"And by the way...I know everything that happened to Gaston. I saw him today."
"I said I don't want to know about him," said Agathe in distress. "Let me live with the peace of ignorance, please."
"Sorry."
There was another sad and awkward lull in their conversation. The werewolf in the cell across from them made rude howling sounds and threats.
"Twelve days until the next moon! I will smash this cell apart, then yours! I will taste your luscious flesh! Ahh-whooooo!"
They both tried to ignore it; his rants seemed nothing but bluff. It was doubtful anyone could break through the thick glass walls.
While they sat in silence, Agathe became overcome with curiosity about Gaston. "How did you see him?" she demanded. "You have no social ties to him, unless...Aloysius! Were you working with Aloysius to monitor Gaston?"
"Sort of- yes. I worked with Aloysius regarding Gaston. Just earlier today, actually."
"I see...that makes more sense."
"Are you sure you don't want to find out what became of Gaston?"
"I don't want to know, if the worst happened!" said Agathe. "What I dread is if his Breakage Clause came to pass. By reuniting with Princess Belle, he would regain his true identity. That would be a disaster for him, for me, and for others. I don't want to learn of it."
"But what if I were to say he is still a good-hearted man, and his true love hasn't left his side?"
"Then I would be happy to hear such," Agathe admitted.
"What if I were to say that both things happened?"
"Both?" Agathe cried. "What do you mean, 'both?'"
"I can tell you the whole story if it could help your conscience," said Marcel.
Agathe relented. "You can tell me everything."
...
A.N.- Forgive me for this long monster chapter and the hints at crossover. This was more than just Easter Eggs referencing J.K. Rowling's Potterverse. I shamelessly borrowed Potterverse ideas while imagining 18th century magical France.
We all know the name of that sport Marcel played! ;) If I used Potter-specific names and terms, I'd feel the need to put this story in the separate crossover archive.