Belle's POV

"I think I'd better. . ."

"No, let him go," Adam said, stopping her in her tracks.

"But he…"

"Needs time to think," he finished for her. "We've just unloaded quite a lot onto him. He needs to process it."

"Oh, all right," she consented unhappily, sitting on the floor beside him and tucked her knees up towards her chest. She watched as Adam leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Tell Edmund hadn't gone anywhere near as well as it had with Brigitte, but he would come around. Her boy was smart; once he got over the shock of the story, he would be all right.

"He'll hate me now," Adam muttered, his eyes still on the ceiling.

"No! No, of course he won't!" Belle cried, turning to clutch his arm. "How can you say that?"

"You saw his face. He believes in it, but he can't accept it. The Beast, his father, they are the same, and he can't accept it."

"He just needs time to think, like you said," she protested, hating the pain in his eyes, wishing there was something she could do. "He'll come around. He's smart, and he loves you. Once he sorts it all out, he'll understand." Adam looked at her, his blue eyes glazed with his unhappiness, his weak smile only making her heart break. "He will understand," she repeated, taking his face gently in her hands, willing him to believe that.

"I hope you're right," he said, taking her hands and pressing them against his lips. He released her and she leaned back against the wall with him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm surprised the magic has lasted so long," she commented lightly after a few silent moments spent examining the opposite wall. "I half expected to find a withered remnants of a flower and a simple, pretty mirror."

"I'm not sure if I'm glad about it or not."

"What do you mean?"

"It's good for proof, a reminder of what had been. But part of me thinks it means the enchantress is still keeping an eye on me. On us."

"She won't do us any harm, even if that is true," she insisted. "She told us so."

"And so far her word has been good. But what happens if she grows bored and decides to torment me in some other way for her own entertainment?"

"Adam, that's not going to happen," she said, surprised he was even thinking this. "It's just leftover magic. Nothing good, nothing bad, it just is."

"How can you be so sure?" he despaired.

"Because, as you've said yourself, she has never lied before. It's just Edmund's upset that's got you worried about this. We'll find him in a little while and you'll see all this worry is for nothing." She ran her hand along his jaw and watched him relax into her touch. "It'll turn out all right."

"What would I do without you?" he asked, running his hand up and down her arm.

"You'll never have to find out," she promised and leaned forward to capture his lips with her own. "Come, we should find Brigitte and tell her what happened. I'm sure she can probably help Edmund come around." Adam stood, wearily, as if he had aged fifty years in the ten minutes they had sat there together, and offered his hand to help her up. She took it and stood to peck his cheek. "It will be all right," she said once more before taking his arm and walking with him down the hall.


Brigitte's POV

"Oh, well I guess that could have gone better," she sighed when her parents had told her what had happened. "You know he'll be fine though, don't you, Papa?"

"I'm finding it hard to be sure just now, ma petite," he said and Brigitte felt tears prick her eyes seeing her father so miserable. Edmund had hurt Papa by running away, though she knew he didn't mean to.

"He just doesn't understand. I'll talk to him, if you want," she offered, hoping she wasn't overstepping any bounds.

"That's actually what we came to ask you to do," Maman said, smiling at her with her usual gentle smile. But Brigitte could see that she was in pain, too; pain at seeing her true love in pain.

"Consider it done," she said brightly, knowing this was one of the most important tasks she would ever have to do for her family. Edmund would understand; she had a few ideas to make him.

"Thank you, mon ange. Don't let this interrupt your day though. Weren't you. . . weren't you sewing with Cherine?" Papa asked, looking around the room as if expecting her friend to be there, though they had made sure they were alone before talking about Edmund.

"I never last long with those lessons," Brigitte laughed. "I'm much better at cooking, and I like it a lot better. Cherine will just have to teach the maids who have a better eye for that sort of thing."

"Don't tell me you're giving up," Maman laughed, teasing gently.

"I think my fingers will thank me for it," she replied, laughing herself and displaying her abused fingers with pinpricks on their tips. "If I were Sleeping Beauty I'd have been cursed to sleep for a thousand years instead of just a hundred." All three of them knew it was a spinning wheel that featured in the story, but the joke was met with chuckles anyway.

"Besides," she continued, "I think I'd like to learn more about politics."

"Politics?" both her parents said nearly simultaneously.

"I might be a girl and unable to inherit, but I have a mind to study taxes and land husbandry and all that sort of thing. I think it's fascinating." She had been lurking in her father's study for some time now, reading his papers and even eavesdropping on his meetings with his advisors. She was fifteen now, it was time for her to take an interest in something more useful than pianos and fairy tales.

"When we get Edmund sorted out, I'll do anything I can to help you," Papa spoke the words she had been hoping to hear. "I don't really understand how you find it 'fascinating.' If I could get away with not doing it, I would, even though I like helping the people. But I would be glad to have you around more often and I know the council will be willing to teach you anything you wish."

"Do you mean that, Papa?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course I do," he said, his sorrow momentarily leaving him as it was replaced with sincere pride. Pride in her. "And you know," he started and knelt down to look up at her where she sat. "If I could change the laws that say women can't inherit, I would in a heartbeat. We all know Edmund doesn't want it; it may change when he's older, but it will always be a burden to him.

"I—thank you, Papa," she breathed, not expecting such a compliment. It was nothing Edmund wouldn't want; he had told her himself that he didn't like all those silly laws and thought it was all very boring. He might grow out of that, like Papa said, but Brigitte would give anything to be in Edmund's place. Or better yet to have been born a boy. But that wasn't the issue right now. Right now, they had to help Edmund see that their parents weren't lying to him and that everything was much more all right than he thought it was. So she kissed her parents, promised them good results, and made her way to Edmund's room where he was doubtlessly holed up. It was either that or the library, but she thought Edmund would want to be alone and his bedroom would be the only place to be sure of that.

She stopped one door before his room however, and stepped into her own. At her bookshelf, she counted up to the second highest shelf and began removing books. Behind her beloved volumes was the folder where she had put the drawings Grandpapa had given her shortly after she was told of the enchantment, the drawings of the Beast. They had once been pressed between the pages of her favorite fairy tale book, but after she had opened the book too many times by mistake she relocated them so they wouldn't be ruined. Now this folder, bound with its deep blue ribbon, was hidden behind her books. Maman knew where it was, as Brigitte promised she would, but no one else. These drawings might be a useful tool in helping Edmund understand. Confident she could help him armed with these drawings, Brigitte went next door and knocked on his door.

"Edmund?" she called. "Edmund, it's me. I know you probably don't want to talk to anyone right now, but I can help." No answer. "Edmund?" Still no answer. "Edmund, come on. At least tell me to go away." Silence. "Edmund, I'm coming in!" she declared and turned the door handle, waiting for protest. None came, not even when she opened the door and stepped inside. Edmund's room, so tidy and clean, did not allow for many hiding spots, and she could see that it was empty.

"Odd," she said, looking around. She even peaked inside the washroom, but Edmund wasn't there. "Maybe he did go to the library after all." With that thought in mind, she closed Edmund's door behind her and started there. A small prick of nerves began to tickle the back of her mind though; whenever Edmund was upset, he wanted to be alone. The library wasn't the most visited of rooms, but it was far from solitary. And as she predicted, when she arrived in the massive library Edmund was nowhere in sight.

"Henry?" she asked, going up to the older boy where he sat at one of the tables.

"What do you want?" he demanded, looking at her with obvious distain. But Henry looked at nearly everyone like that, so she wasn't offended.

"Have you seen Edmund? Has he been here today?"

"Why should I care about your stupid brother?" he snarled and returned to his book. Losing patience, Brigitte leaned forward and snapped the book closed on his fingers.
"Hey! What the—"

"Have you seen my brother?" she asked, enunciating each word.

"No. Now leave me alone."

"Thank you," she said and took her hand off the book, letting him free his slightly squashed fingers. She rather enjoyed the fact that he was a little afraid of her, she who was two years his junior. It annoyed her that Henry was even still around; he should have gone to court long before this, gone somewhere to find a girl to marry and a house to live in. Papa had offered him a title and a deed of land to start a proper life, but Henry seemed determined to stay in the castle. Why that was, Brigitte couldn't guess.

She began searching for her brother in earnest now, asking everyone she came across if they had seen him. She knew she would create a bit of a panic this way, but she was panicked herself. If he wasn't in his room or the library, he was in the garden, but Brigitte couldn't find him there either. There were too many hiding places there; the whole castle was a children's hide-and-seek paradise. How was she supposed to find Edmund?

"Cogsworth!" she cried, returning inside the castle and happening upon her old friend.

"What can I do for you, mademoiselle," he asked in his usual proper manner.

"You haven't seen Edmund, have you?"

"Ah, I had heard there was some trouble locating the boy," he mused. "You've looked in the library, the gardens?"

"Yes, I've checked everywhere I can think of. I don't know what to do!"

"Now, now, don't fret," he said, though his voice cracked with worry of his own. "I'll have the whole castle on a search. I assume your parents know?"

"I didn't want to say anything until I found him," she confessed.

"You'd better do it quick then," he said and all but pushed her along the hall. "I'll start the search parties. Quickly now!" he bid nervously and bustled away in the opposite direction. Brigitte had hoped she wouldn't have to add to her parents' worries, that she could find Edmund and have nothing but a story with a happy ending to tell them instead. But that was obviously not going to happen now.

"Maman? Papa?" she called after knocking on the door to the West Wing and hearing Maman's responding call to come in.

"That was fast," Maman said, obviously assuming she had talked to Edmund already. "What's that you have there?"

"What? Oh, I—nothing," she said lamely, putting the folder she was still holding behind her skirts. Papa wasn't supposed to know about those drawings; they would make him angry.

"What did Edmund say?" Papa asked, ignoring her strange actions and instead focusing on what he obviously wanted to know.

"I—I didn't get a chance to talk to him," she confessed, dreading what she had to say next. "I couldn't find him. Edmund's gone missing."
"Missing?" Papa demanded, standing from his chair by the fire. "What do you mean missing?"

"I mean I can't find him anywhere," she all but wailed, feeling as though she had let her parents down. "Cogsworth is getting search parties together right now, but I've been to all his usual places."

"This is all my fault," Papa growled, clenching his hands into fists. "We have to find him."

"We will, Adam," Maman said, putting a hand on his arm. "He can't have gone far. Did you check to see if his horse is still in the stables?"

"I didn't think to, no," she replied, wishing she had. Edmund wasn't allowed to leave the grounds on his horse without an escort, not until he was twelve, but if he was upset and wanted to leave, even Edmund would have ignored that rule and taken Iris into the forest.

"Let's check that first, then go on from there," Maman suggested. She was so calm, so levelheaded. Brigitte wished she inherited that trait rather than her father's inclination to panic and blame himself. "Why don't you go put that back in your room," Maman whispered as she led Brigitte towards the door. "Run on ahead." Brigitte hastened to do as her mother said, hiding the folder from her father until she was out of sight. She sprinted, wanting to catch up to her parents, dumping it unceremoniously on her bed before rushing back out again. She met her parents just as they were passing the row of suits of armor, gasping with her run.
"Where'd you run off to?" Papa asked as she caught up to them.

"I thought I left a candle burning in my room. I was using it to look in Edmund's room which was dark," she lied, glancing at her mother. The lie came easily, but it was one of those white lies that were meant to keep harm from coming to someone you loved.

"Ah, Your Highnesses," Cogsworth called as the three of them descended the main staircase minutes later, Papa taking them by two's in his haste to find his son. "No sign of the little Master as of yet, but we've got everyone on the search. We shall not rest until we find him!" he declared, one finger raised in determination. Papa nodded and Maman thanked him, but Brigitte couldn't help but feel guilty. She hadn't made Edmund run away, but she was supposed to be the one to be there for him. He should have felt like he could come to her when he couldn't turn to their parents. Perhaps the fact that she knew about the enchantment too made him feel betrayed. Whatever it was, she had to find him and explain.