And so we marched to the castle, with the magic mirror and one of Gaston's guns in hand. It was obviously a suicide mission, and we all knew it. But it had to be done.

"Monsieur D'Arque," I said, "If we get out of this…" I didn't add "alive", although I wanted to. "Could you train me to work for you?"

"At the asylum or the hatshop?" he inquired.

"Either one I guess. I never really had a job, and I guess I really do need one. One of these days I'm going to have to do something, since I can't rely on Gaston anymore."

"Sure you can be my protégé," D'Arque replied, "If you're up to it, that is."

"I am."

We were silent the rest of the trip. When we arrived at the front of the castle, we were surprised to discover the door was unlocked and we didn't have to use anything to break down the door. We could hear faint sounds of activity from within the castle. I grabbed Dominique's hand, and she grabbed Chanal's in turn. Chanal grabbed Anne's, and Anne went to grab D'Arque's, but he shot her a look and she turned away in a huff. We continued walking inside the castle until we got to a large empty room, decorated for some event. And as I realized I knew what that event was, I felt my stomach heat up in a swell of anger.

How could Belle DO this? Didn't she have any inkling of how raw Gaston's death still was for us? Wasn't it like that for her… at all? I mean, she'd known him ever since she moved into town, which wasn't so long ago. She should have been wearing a black dress, not a white one! I wanted to throttle her and scream in her face!

"Hello!" I called out, "Is anyone home?"

A tall, chocolate-skinned man holding a candle in hand made his way down the hall. He took a quick look at me and seemed to recognize me, although I didn't recognize him.

"Welcome, welcome," he said, "Are you here for the wedding?"

"We're here to avenge Gaston's death," snapped Dominique, "I want to see the person responsible and I want to see them NOW!"

"But, chére, I do not know anyone named Gaston. I believe you should speak to the master and mistress of this castle, they will most likely know better than I."

"Lumiere!" called a female voice that I recognized immediately.

"And here she is!" Lumiere announced with a smile as Belle walked up, still dressed in the wedding dress I'd seen her don in the mirror. "Speak of the devil! I was just telling these two men and these lovely ladies that they should speak to you."

"Indeed they should," Belle replied, her eyes turning icy, "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to avenge Gaston's death," Dominique repeated, "You murderer."

"I didn't murder Gaston!" Belle snapped, "He fell, after trying to kill my husband…fiancée…the Prince!"

"Wait," I said, "Let me get this straight. You mean to tell us that that huge, ugly-looking beast turned into a Prince."

"That is exactly what happened," Belle replied evenly.

"Mademoiselle," said D'Arque, "Perhaps you should accompany me back to the…"

"Belle! What's going on?" A man dressed in some kind of royal-looking garb ran up, followed by a blonde-haired, older woman.

"Come back here! Oh, don't you know it's bad luck to see the bride before your wedding!" the woman cried.

"It's all right, Mrs. Potts," said the man. "What are YOU all doing here?" he snapped at us.

"Who are YOU?" Chanal snapped.

"The Prince," he replied hotly.

"The one that used to be a beast?" asked Dominique.

"…Yes."

The three girls observed him for a moment.

"Ew," said Anne.

"You were better-looking as a beast," said Dominique.

"Agreed," Chanal chimed in.

"Look, can't you all just leave?" Belle pleaded.

"So you can marry this guy right after a man who loved you was murdered?" Dominique snapped, with obvious pain in her eyes.

"Gaston wasn't murdered. Gaston fell," Belle repeated.

"Gaston. Doesn't. Fall," Anne snapped, raising her hand in a fist.

"How could you get married the day after Gaston died?" Chanal snapped.

"You strumpet!" Dominique declared.

"Whore!"

"Two-timer!"

"Murderer!" I said my accusation loudest of all.

"Listen," snapped the Prince, pointing to me, "If you don't remove all your friends from the premise right now, I will pick you up and MOVE YOU off the premise!" He reached forward to grab my collar, but Dominique intervened, grabbing his arm.

"You!" she spat, "Don't you dare put your hands on LeFou. The only person who was allowed to do that was Gaston. And, well, we know how you took care of that. So don't you DARE put your hands on or threaten him… because he's my friend. And we're not moving."

I'm not sure who was more shocked at Dominique's pronouncement, the Prince or me. I'd never had anyone stick up for me before, let alone call me their friend. I remembered walking by the village, overhearing a conversation between two young girls.

"It's a good thing LeFou has Gaston," one of them said, "Or else he wouldn't have any friends at all." The other one laughed cruelly.

"LeFou is NOT Gaston's FRIEND. He's his SIDEKICK. Hah. LeFou? Friends…"

It seemed that all that was changing now. I looked over at Dominique, who was still standing steadfast in front of the Prince.

"I'm not moving," she said again, "I want answers."