CHAPTER 13

Gaston wandered aimlessly through the town in the twilight, heartbroken and miserable. He was vaguely aware of the admiring stares and whispers he was attracting, but it barely registered. For five years he had longed for the day when he could once again bask in the adoration of others. But now that it had come, he didn't care.

The pure joy he had felt at regaining his true form had drained away. All his legendary strength, his incomparable looks, his amazing skills and prowess - none of it was enough to win back the only girl he'd ever loved. So what was the point?

He passed a group of pretty young women on their way home. They turned to stare at him, whispering excitedly to each other. "Oh my God, look at that guy! He's gorgeous!"

"Did you see those muscles?"

"I think I'm in love!"

One girl, bolder than the rest, broke away from the pack and ran up to him, placing herself right in his path so he had to stop. She was a blue-eyed beauty with long, shiny black hair. "Hello, handsome," she cooed, smiling. "You must be new in town. Why don't I give you a tour?"

He looked at her without interest. There was only one girl he wanted, and she wasn't it. "No, thank you," he said distantly, and walked around her, leaving her standing there looking offended.

He spied the local tavern up ahead. A stiff drink sounded good right now. He entered, paid for a full bottle of whiskey, and took it and a shot glass to a corner table.

He sat there alone, wondering how things could have gone so horribly wrong. Only yesterday, Genevieve had looked at him like he was the most wonderful person in the world, despite his ugliness. She had called him "amazing." Even today - just half an hour earlier - she had accepted his proposal, her eyes shining with happiness. She had loved him then, he knew.

Then he had changed back, and she was shocked...but he hadn't lost her then. Not yet. The problems had started when he'd opened his mouth to explain it to her. He still wasn't sure exactly what had happened. But he knew he'd said everything wrong, somehow, and the more he'd tried to reassure her, the more upset she got. He winced, remembering the way she had looked at him just before she slammed the door. It was exactly the way Belle had looked at him when she had called him a monster.

He sighed. All he had wanted was to make Genevieve happy. She deserved to be happy. But instead, he had ruined everything. She hated him now. And he would never see her again.

He threw back another shot of whiskey. Being six foot four and 250 lbs. had one major drawback, he thought ruefully: it was much harder to get drunk. If he were still a dwarf, he'd be under the table by now, mercifully oblivious. As it was, the pain in his heart was as sharp as ever, undimmed by any alcoholic haze.

The tavern door opened. Gaston, lost in gloomy thoughts, didn't pay attention until he heard an all-too-familiar voice calling loudly for ale. He looked up sharply and saw Etienne standing near the bar.

Gaston's blood boiled at the mere sight of him, remembering how he had taunted Genevieve so cruelly, and smashed the hourglass that might have sealed Gaston's fate. As a dwarf, Gaston wasn't able to do much about it, but now he could. He got up and stormed over to Etienne. "You," he hissed.

Etienne turned and looked in confusion at the stranger. "What?"

Without a word, Gaston punched him hard in the jaw. Etienne fell backward, arms windmilling, and landed on the floor. The bar fell silent as all eyes turned to see what was happening. But no one intervened. Etienne was a nasty piece of work, a bully and a hooligan, and none of the men felt particularly inclined to rush to his aid.

Enraged by the punch, Etienne was about to jump up with fists flying. But then he saw just how much bigger and stronger than himself Gaston was, and thought better of it. Instead, he stayed on the floor, rubbing his jaw, and whined, "What was that for? I didn't do nothing to you."

Gaston grabbed his shirt front and hauled him up. "That's for Genevieve," he said menacingly. "I'm a friend of hers, and I don't like the way you talk to her." He drew back his fist for another punch.

"Wait!" cried Etienne hastily. "I-I'm sorry, okay? I was just fooling around. I didn't mean nothing by it. Don't hit me!" he added quickly, cringing with his arms protectively over his head.

What a coward, Gaston thought. But he hesitated.

The brute deserved to be taught a lesson. And in the mood Gaston was in, it would feel good to work out his frustrations by beating the living daylights out of him. In the past, he wouldn't even have thought twice about it.

But now...he just didn't feel right, beating up a guy who was cowering and begging him not to.

Still gripping Etienne's shirt, he pulled him up close, glaring directly into his eyes. Etienne whimpered fearfully. "From now on, you're going to be polite to her and treat her with respect," Gaston said threateningly. "If you so much as look at her wrong, I'll find out, and I'll make you regret it."

Etienne nodded vigorously. "Okay, okay! Sure!"

"And the next time you see her, you're going to tell her you're sorry for every rude thing you've ever said to her," Gaston insisted.

Etienne hesitated, but seeing the dangerous look in Gaston's eye, quickly capitulated. "All right, I'll tell her I'm sorry! Anything you say!" He looked up nervously. "Can...can I go now?"

Gaston shoved him to the floor contemptuously. Etienne scrambled up and ran out the door.

One of the men said, "Hey, good going, buddy. He's been asking for that for years." The other men nodded in agreement. The bartender poured Gaston a drink and said, "Here, this is on the house."

Putting Etienne in his place, and being congratulated for it, made Gaston feel a bit more cheerful. At least now Genevieve wouldn't have to deal with the oaf. He grinned as he thought of how quickly Etienne's bravado had crumbled. He couldn't wait to tell Genevieve about it.

Then he remembered, and his broad shoulders sagged. He couldn't tell her anything anymore. She didn't want to see him ever again.

He looked around the tavern, and suddenly felt that he couldn't bear to stay in Reillanne one more minute. There was nothing here for him now, and everything reminded him of her. He strode back to the inn, threw his things haphazardly into the rucksack, and hitched Henri up to the wagon, heedless of the late hour.

It was time to go home.