Chapter 28- His Sister at Heart, and a Letter

Gaston heard the footsteps of more visitors. Two sets of light steps, shifting between fast and slow, like Lefou's. This time, it was his Emilie. She paused at the steps for a moment, encouraging her tired companion behind her.

"Oww, everything hurts, Emilie, not just my arm." Gaston recognized Adelaide's voice and felt grateful.

He needed some sense of closure with the woman he considered a sister. All the times spent laughing and chatting with her in the Marquis' kitchen and dining room would now be only a pleasant memory. The short brunette woman with the plumper figure finally reached the top. A bandage was wrapped around her left arm, but she looked well- just tired and flushed as pink as the dress she wore. He knew she would be all right.

"Gaston-Luc! I had to try to make it here! I needed to wish you farewell," she said in breathy gasps.

"Addie, dear, it pains me to hear about your attack. I wish I could dispense justice as only I know how," Gaston said, grinding one fist into his palm.

"Please, it's all right. I'm okay," Adelaide said, approaching him to touch his forearm in a gentle, reassuring manner. "You can't catch him. He's gone now. I know you're tough, but I'd rather you come back to us when you're released, not another dungeon sentence." She sat down carefully on the little footstool to take a breath, crossing her ankles and fussing with her skirt. "Whew! I've had enough drama to last my entire life!" She laughed a little, inviting a smile from Gaston.

He guessed correctly; Adelaide did not need him to take violent revenge on that warlock, who'd slithered back to the snake hole he came from. Coward. He glanced over at Emilie, they shared a look of relief. As soon as all three of them left this castle, the better. Sorcery still seemed to cling to the cursed place like a virus.

"I will be back, you know," said Gaston. "At least to the Paris region, in twenty-five days give or take. As long as my love is there to welcome me." He reached out to take Emilie by the hands, kissing her fingers one by one. "Ma cherie," he teased.

"Gaston-Luc, you're too much," said Emilie.

"Yep."

"You're acting like Monsieur Lumiere and Plumette," Adelaide said. "Normally I would find it to be nauseating- but it makes me happy. For the moment." She watched them share a tender kiss through the jail bars, her arms crossed. "I wanted to give you my best wishes. I'm, um...heading home," she added when he and Emilie broke their kiss.

The smile she was trying to plaster on her face fell away. From her seat on the low stool, she still felt painfully like that extra 'third wheel' while observing the loving couple. The man she had fallen for was in prison now- for much longer than 'twenty-five days.' She averted her gaze from Gaston and Emilie and smoothed her skirt.

"Come here, cupcake muncher," Gaston said with a laugh, using the moniker he'd given her last spring when he caught her sampling cakes for the Marquess' Sunday tea. He reached a playful hand out and tugged Adelaide to him by her good arm as she stood up from the stool. She attempted an embrace through the cell bars while Gaston gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

"Next time we meet, Addie dear, you'll be family."

"Family?" Emilie asked, joy alight on her face. "When are you thinking that will be official?"

"We'll have a small wedding as soon as I return! Perhaps we will drive into Paris, and go to a chapel there. Why wait?" He grinned.

"And hopefully you will have washed your hair and put on a clean suit?" Adelaide interjected.

"Addie, he's in the dungeon. He can't help it," said Emilie, giving her rather unkempt fiancé a look of apology. "I agree. Let's tie the knot as soon as we can, when you arrive!" She was surprised at herself once she said it out loud.

"Let's do it, Emilie! We'll be married by the end of the summer! In August or September." exclaimed Gaston. "Is it yes, or is it oh, yes?"

"The answer is oui, mon cher. I prefer our French." Emilie replied with a laugh.

"His Honor can fetch a clergyman ahead of time, I'm sure," suggested Adelaide. "But...can you afford a honeymoon? Or take time away from your job search for one?"

"I was thinking of a...rustic honeymoon," said Gaston, gesturing with his hands. "Picture this, Emilie. You and me, camping, in a burlap tent out in the forest. We'll listen to a few wolves howling, the hooting of owls, the songs of hundreds of little frogs. I'll build a fire and roast us up a few wild turkeys I've managed to hunt down. With bread of course. And apple cider."

Emilie laughed with enthusiasm. "You've had time to daydream, haven't you?"

"We'll watch the moon and stars rise as we lie on quilts and pillows, and I'll put on plenty of logs for the fire to burn all night!" Gaston finished.

Emilie blushed and squeezed his hand. "That...sounds beautiful."

"It rains a lot in late summer, you know," Adelaide quipped. "You might end up showering all night, instead of bathing in the glow of- um, flickering firelight and other such- 'blazingly hot' kinds of things," she added, making finger-quotes with a teasing smile.

Gaston chuckled, though he was sadly reminded of someone else who used to have the annoying habit of making 'finger quotes' as he spoke. Adelaide must have spent some time with Lefou. She'd picked up one of his mannerisms.

"Oh, Addie," groaned Emilie, trying to not be cross at her sister. "Must you be such a spoilsport? It might not rain."

"Adelaide- you wouldn't by chance be related to anyone with the surname 'Lefou,' would you?" Gaston asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because it is scarily uncanny. Have you met him?"

"I did! I met him at breakfast. And Stanley, of course," Adelaide replied, her face brightening. "Love those two. We're all fast friends now, the three of us. Lefou certainly is my other 'brother at heart.' Except he wanted to steal Lorette away from me, and I said non! He can get his own cat! I asked him to write to me, and he said he would. Though he apologized for being 'partially illiterate' and asked Stanley if he'd help him write letters. Such a sweet man."

Gaston bit his lip. He wanted Adelaide to see only him as her 'brother,' not Lefou. If Lefou didn't want much to do with him anymore, why would he associate with his sister-in-law? It was a childish, peevish thought, but he couldn't help it.

"And of course I want to still keep in touch with Plumette, and Lumiere, and Mr. and Mrs. Potts, and the musician couple," Adelaide continued on, her speech at a rapid, manic pace as if she were forcing cheerfulness on herself. "I'll miss them all. I never expected to meet such a wonderful and fun group of castle servants!"

"It figures," said Gaston. "They're all good people, I am sure. At least you have Lefou as a friend, now. I...I wish you well, Addie." said Gaston, gulping and swallowing.

He tried to focus on exactly why she was coming across so anxiety-riddled and fake-cheerful, in spite of her happiness for his and Emilie's marriage plans. He knew when both she and Emilie were genuinely happy; it always showed in their eyes. Emilie's eyes shone with contentment and joy, but Addie's were reddened and tired despite her gushy words. It was painfully reminiscent of Lefou when he had last visited.

"Addie," Gaston said, searching for the right words, then deciding to get to the point. This poor woman's love life had been a mess since he'd met her. "I want to tell you that I will send my hopes and prayers up for your gentleman friend. I heard he was sent to some prison, though he did nothing harmful. I can tell you're hurting, dear. If you want to talk about that around us, it's all right. I mean, I didn't mean to go on about just our wedding and honeymoon. Can't always be about us."

Emilie nodded and gave him a gentle smile. "Gaston Luc, that's such a kind sentiment. I'm proud of you for thinking of her. Addie, if you're hurting just tell us, please."

"Hurting?" Adelaide asked. Her eyes began to well with tears. "I...I'm fine, really! I'll be fine."

"Addie. I know by experience," Gaston pressed. "Because I knew someone who acted the same as you. Trying to hide his love with jokes and cheer, with being 'jolly.' It is not shameful to be in love with someone who you don't think you're allowed to love."

Gaston looked at her softly; lovingly. Like a dear older brother- because he was. Adelaide's face crumpled in anguish; she looked over at her sister for further permission to share.

"It's...hard. I finally felt a real connection with a wonderful man, but now...we're from completely different worlds, Marcel and I. And now he's suffering for it, and I blame myself. I'm going to have to try to forget him now." She began sobbing as Emilie rushed to hug her.

"You shouldn't have to," Emilie said. "I will send my hopes and prayers up for him, too."

"I- I need to go home!" Adelaide said, sniffling into Emilie's shoulder. "Back to our own kitchens, our laundry. I can keep my mind off him there. Perhaps there will be other men. But I don't care about other men, Emilie! My heart and mind will remain off in some strange, creepy warlock dungeon! I'll whisper his name into the stars every night, perhaps he'll...feel my love. I hope."

"Oh, Addie," Emilie said as she consoled her crying sister. "I am sure he will."

Gaston clung to the cell bars, his heart in surprisingly real concern for her. There was nothing he could do. As strong as he was and would be when he got out, magic scared him. Agathe had made him feel like he was a lunatic during her curse. He knew he was no match for the power of sorcery, the world of witches and warlocks. He'd shot a cursed Beast, only to fall when the cursed castle that came with him crumbled on itself. He didn't understand it.

"Addie, you're strong," he encouraged. "You're a spirited girl. You'll find happiness again. You'll get through this heartache. And remember you have us. We will be your family, no matter what."

"Oh, Gaston-Luc!" Adelaide broke her embrace with Emilie, and extended her hand to Gaston again grasping his. "Thank you!" she cried, her eyes shining with hope. "I love you. Like a brother of course, but I do love you, so much."

"Likewise," Gaston said. "Have a safe trip. Keep your chin up. Bake and eat as many cupcakes as you want, and take care of your cat. Godspeed, my dear Adelaide! I love you."

Both Adelaide and Emilie stepped forward and gave Gaston one brief kiss on the cheek before Emilie escorted her tearful sister back downstairs, back out into the summer warmth and the waiting coach. The Marquis and his family, Jean, and Clémence were packed and ready to board.

Emilie and Adelaide shared one more hug goodbye. Lumiere, Plumette, Cogsworth, Lefou, Stanley, Madame de Garderobe and the Maestro- and Belle and Adam- came to wish the family and their three servants bon voyage.

Lefou strode over to Adelaide with a yellow ball of fur on his shoulder. "By chance, dear, are you missing something?"

"Lorette!" Adelaide exclaimed. "You ran away from the carriage again. You know you can't do that!"

"She wants to stay with me, but I'm trying to convince her otherwise." Lefou said with a chuckle. "Wait- what was that?" He put the cat's face next to his ear and spoke in a high-pitched voice. "You really wanna live here with Uncle Lefou? You wanna sleep inside Stanley's big pink bonnet and eat escargot every day?"

"Lefou," Adelaide chided, reaching to peel the kitten off of Lefou's shoulder. She hugged him and his partner, Stanley. "Take care, you two. Write to me. And I don't care if you misspell words."

"A-D-E-L- I believe there's two L's-"

"Don't worry!" said Adelaide. "I'll be able to read it."

She spotted Plumette and Lumiere, the two she had come to love most of all. She handed Lorette over to Clémence and rushed to them with warm embraces. Looking into Plumette's eyes, Adelaide's heart was pierced with fond but painful memories. The woman's pretty dark eyes, the warm brown tone of her skin- she resembled her brother so much, the man she'd fallen for and lost.

"Mademoiselle Adelaide! Bon voyage- and please feel welcome to return and be our guest!" said Lumiere, his large mustache bouncing comically with his words. Adelaide wondered how Plumette could ever keep a straight face with her husband's mustache. The silly thought whisked her sadness away for a moment.

"Adelaide, I have a little something for you," Plumette said, reaching into her dress pocket. "Something that may connect my brother to you, even if only a symbol." She held in her palm a small piece of jewelry. It was a pin shaped like a white dove, made of pearls.

"A dove pin? It's beautiful. But it's yours, Jacinta," Adelaide said, using Plumette's real name just as Marcel did.

"Please be free to take it and wear it, Adelaide. It belonged to my Maman and she passed it on to me, because doves are special to her, as they are to me. Our family symbol, in a way. They bring good luck and are harbingers of true love." She smiled up at her Francois. "Because I now have the true love of the man I wished for, never to part."

Adelaide was touched, but skeptical. "Did your mother find true love?"

"She did...eventually. Her first marriage to my and Marcel's father ended. But later she met a good man in Paris, a fellow named Hami. He is from her native country. I have their address in Paris if you ever want to visit them. Maman is still alive and healthy. Her married name is now Sabine Djokoto. She and Hami live in the Third Quartier, next to my aunt and uncle and cousins. They would love to meet you!"

"The Third Quartier?" Adelaide cried. "That's my home neighborhood! What street do they live on?"

"Rue Seconde," said Plumette.

"I know where that is! It isn't that far from my parents' or Jean's family home at all! I may have seen them without ever knowing. What a small world!"

Adelaide gratefully took the jewelry from her new friend and pinned it to her dress bodice. The coincidence of Plumette's and Marcel's other family members living in her old neighborhood was a wonderful surprise, something to look forward to.

"And before I forget, I also want to give you something that Marcel gave me. Something much more characteristic of him." With a sad smile, Plumette took another small object from her dress pocket. A golden ball, with a feathery pair of wings attached to it.

"What is it? Jewelry? It's very pretty." She looked for a chain, but it wasn't a necklace.

Plumette laughed fondly. "Pretty? Oh my, you would not know. This is a game ball from Marcel's favorite sport. He's given me at least seven or eight of them over the years."

Adelaide took the little winged ball in her hand. The wings fluttered a little, tickling her fingers. "It's so cute. I'll treasure it, just because it was his. Merci." She hugged her and Lumiere once again.

Adelaide reluctantly joined her employers, Clémence, and Jean aboard the large but cramped carriage, six people in its full capacity. The new driver, a castle servant named Leon who worked under Lefou tending horses, slapped the reins.

Emilie waved her sister and the others good-bye. After Belle and Adam and the servants went back to the castle, and the coach disappeared around the curve, she went back upstairs to the tower dungeon to see Gaston.

"How is she?" Gaston asked Emilie as they embraced and kissed once more.

"We all were able to cheer her up. I can't wait to go back, with you. Do you want me to bring you something? Dinner will be prepared downstairs soon."

"Thank you, Emilie. Bring me a little of everything. And...if the Master will allow it, a bottle of wine. I want to see if I'm able to drink it without my mouth burning."

"I will," said Emilie.

...

Later, when she had brought him dinner to share with a bottle of red wine, Gaston took a tiny, cautious sip. It did not burn him any longer. "Mon Dieu! Is this real wine?"

"Yes. Lumiere said it was from a 'good year,' according to him."

"So my curse is completely broken," said Gaston. "In every way."

"Gaston-Luc, is there ever a chance you want to show me around Villeneuve? Your home village? We passed through it over a week ago and I feel this urge to explore it. I want to see the house where you grew up, and all the other places you frequented."

"Emilie," Gaston said with a resigned sigh, closing his eyes and taking another sip of the wine. "No. I can't."

"Why not?" Emilie asked, disappointed.

"I've left that town behind. It's full of people I left a bad impression on. No one would have a good word to say about Gaston-Luc de Soleil Legume anymore, the name is tarnished. Even my late father was looked back on as an arrogant prick of a man, and I was worse. Despite my years of being praised for my war heroics."

She frowned. "Well...if you ever change your mind, let me know. I'd like to take a ride into town soon and explore it for myself, then. Can you tell me about places and people you know? Just so I can say hello? I won't mention you. I just want to know them," she added.

"That's fine," he mumbled. "The blacksmith in town is a good man. His name's Tom. Good personable fellow, family man. Then there's Dick, who's Stanley's older brother. But you would never believe they are brothers, looking at the two. He's always laughing and joking, a salt-of-the-earth working man with a wife and children, same as Tom."

"What about women? Any women you remember?"

Gaston chuckled. "If you want to meet some interesting characters on the female side of things, go to the dress shop. There's three sisters whose parents are the town tailors. I'm curious if they ever found husbands yet. Elise, and...I don't even remember what the other two were named. They all start with E's, but none are named Emilie. Hmm...curious how they're doing. They were all in love with me, and they weren't discreet about it at all."

Emilie shook her head and smiled. "That's amusing. I imagine they all wanted to win the hand of the dashing war hero."

"Too true."

"If they could see you now- the way I'm looking at you now- would they have loved you still if they saw you like this? In a prison cell with unwashed hair? Or worse still, how you were when you were ravaged with smallpox?"

Gaston smirked. "Nope."

Emilie reached over and rummaged in a bag she'd used to take the wrapped dinner up to the tower, and found a pad of paper and a small pencil stub. "Remember my drawings?"

"Of course. You used to sketch buildings. You showed them to me. Have you had time to do any artwork lately?"

"I sketched the rose garden yesterday when I was sitting on a with Jean and Clémence on the terrace." She turned the pages and showed the pencil sketch to him.

"Very nice. It needs some color," he observed.

"I'll have to ask someone to borrow paints. Little Chip might have some in their family quarters. His father is a potter and artist."

"Speaking of artists...have you ever seen Belle's father, Maurice, in the castle over the last week? Has he been present here?"

"I don't think so."

Gaston looked pensively at Emilie's sketch pad. "Time is running out. Would you mind if I use your sketchpad and pencil to write him a letter?"

Emilie's eyes widened; she had forgotten about that detail. No wonder Belle's father had not been visiting the castle. 'Tied to a tree and left for wolves…'

"Of course, mon chere." She handed him the writing implements and sat quietly as Gaston began to write, awkwardly scribbling out things and tearing pages out to start over again.

He wrote and wrote, until finally, he tore out the page he'd been frantically scribbling on and handed the short letter to her. His handwriting was simple and unrefined, printed rather than cursive script. It leaned hard to the right in a jumbled rush of large, angular letters and dashes.

Monsieur Maurice,

I am alive. I am certain you learned the news from your daughter. Just as the case with His Highness, your son in law, I was cursed by sorcery and was given a punishment for my evil deeds. I am writing from the castle's dungeon at this moment where I am serving a sentence much more forgiving than the one I deserve.

I do not expect your forgiveness, but not a night goes by where I do not think of the pain and harm I caused you, your daughter and others. I will regret those actions for the rest of my life, and they will remain a stain on my soul. I wish you the best, and many blessings I wish for your daughter and His Highness. If you come to the castle, feel welcome to visit me at the dungeon.

Regretfully yours,

Gaston Luc de Soleil Legume

"Bring it to Belle for me, won't you?" Gaston asked Emilie.

"Of course I will. I'll deliver it to her in the morning." She put the letter inside the sketchpad and put it in the bag, before letting out a yawn. The few sips of wine, something she was not used to, had made her feel tired and woozy.

"I'm starting to get tired." Emilie stood up and leaned into the cell to give him a gentle kiss.

"Your kisses taste like wine," he said. "I never would've expected that. The prim and proper little maid I met last year."

She gave him a shy smile, and kissed his stubble-covered cheek. "I never would've expected Jean's big, bragging friend I met last year to give me the time of day."

"I'll give you the time of day and much more." He pulled her into another kiss, harder and more passion-filled. "Time for you to go downstairs and go to sleep. Dreaming of me, of course."

"Of course," she replied. "I'll try. Bonne nuit. I will see you in the morning."

...