Fright

It took a few days for Belle and Adam to put all things in order for their departure to Armorique.

Cogsworth would, of course, have charge of the castle in the absence of the master and his wife, ably assisted by Mrs Potts; between them they would have charge not only of the building but of most of the household for Adam and Belle were hardly taking anyone with them to attend upon them in Armorique. It was a long journey, and the more burdened by train they were the slower that journey would be, not to mention the question of who would maintain the castle if it was left deserted because Belle and Adam had taken everyone across Gallia with them.

And besides, if they had – for example – decided to take the cook with them, then who would cook for the servants who remained behind?

No, they would only take a few people to accompany them: Lumiere, to manage the household they would establish in Armorique; Chapeau, to be Adam's valet; Madame du Garderobe to act as Belle's maid; and Babette, to be the maid in whatever house they ended up renting in town for the duration of their stay abroad. All the rest would remain behind, until such time as Adam and Belle returned.

As they departed in a pair of coaches – one for Belle and Adam, the other for the small staff who accompanied them – all the servants who were remaining behind turned out to wish them well, good luck, a safe journey and a swift return to the home where they belonged.

"You know, it's funny," Adam said, as he waved out of the window at his retainers as the carriage bore him and his wife away. "This is far from the first time that I've seen this. Whenever my father would travel to Vienna or to the Diet or anywhere at all, and he would take me with him, the servants would always turn out in just this way. The faces changed along the way, but the act and the gestures remained the same." He looked at Belle, with a smile upon his face. "This is the first time that I've actually believed they meant all the things that they're calling out to us."

Belle reached out, and took his hand. "They always loved you. Cogsworth and Mrs Potts and all the rest. They always loved you, even when…"

"Even when I didn't deserve it," Adam said.

Belle nodded. There was no point in denying that Adam had been a deeply flawed person, in the past; to have tried to deny it would also have been to deny what a good man he had become, and how hard he had worked to overcome his flaws.

And so the carriages carried them away, while the great gothic edifice that Belle had come to call home, the magnificent castle that rose out of the trees and loomed like a slumbering giant over the world around it, grew smaller and smaller until she could no longer see it at all.

As they were borne away so too was the sun descending beneath the horizon, so that it almost seemed as if they were racing the sun, caught in a contest that they could not win as the source of all light outpaced the progress of their horses and dipped beneath the horizon while they were still on the forest road, plunging the world into darkness.

They ate a cold meal from out of hampers that Mrs Potts and Chef Bouche had prepared for them before their departure, and hung lanterns on the sides of the carriages as outside the shadows lengthened and the dying light cast the trees towering over them in cruel and jagged shapes, with branches like arms reaching out for them and the gnarled wood into scarred and eerie faces.

Wolves began to howl amongst the trees as the darkness deepened and the moon rose up; wolves, wolves howling from all around, their call rising up from all sides, echoing off the trees and striking the stars on their way to the moon. Belle gasped, one hand involuntarily clutching at her cloak as she looked out the window, staring out into the blackness, barely illuminated by the lantern light, as though she could see something out there.

Her heart was beating rapidly, her eyes had widened and her mouth was set into a fearful grimace as she peered out into the night. She wasn't sure what was worse: hearing those dreadful howls all around them, making the horses stomp and whinny in panic where they were tethered to nearby trees, or to see those wicked eyes gleaming out of the trees, see those awful fangs slavering in anticipation.

Belle's breathing came quickly as she clutched her fur-trimmed cloak closer about her; as her eyes failed to see anything in the darkness her mind's eye supplied details a plenty: the eyes, the fangs, the way they growled; that one wolf in particular who had licked his lips in anticipation, the way that another had snapped a stout branch in half with a single bite. She still had nightmares about it sometimes, the wolves in the wood; of herself, caught, trapped, pinned to the ground by her own cloak.

And as she listened to the howling, Belle couldn't help but think that, for all of his wonderful qualities, Adam would not be so able to protect her as he had been then.

Nevertheless, he put his hands upon her shoulders and drew her back from the window. "I know you must be worried, but try not to let it get to you. You're perfectly safe." With a nod of his head he indicated the blunderbuss that was in the carriage with them. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Belle huddled close to him, and wished that his assurance – heartfelt and sincerely meant, she had no doubt – could put her mind completely at ease. But that howling, that awful sound, how could she ignore it?

Both Belle and Adam jumped as something wrapped loudly on the carriage door. It turned out to be Amelie, Queen Maria Theresa's huntress, who got up onto the coach step so that she could peer into the carriage through the window.

Adam leaned across to open said window, letting in blast of cold air that made Belle huddle further into her cloak and draw yet closer to her husband.

"Is there something we can do for you?" Adam asked, in a voice that was nearly as cold as the wind coming in.

Amelie shrugged. "I couldn't help but notice that m'lady looked a little bit nervous. Don't worry, if any of those howling brutes come any closer we'll make them regret it. So you can rest easy knowing that we're watching over you."

Somehow, Belle doubted that the knowledge that Gaston's brother was watching her would have made her feel better in any circumstances, but the idea that the presence of these two guests was supposed to make her feel better about the presence of wolves all around seemed close to ludicrous.

"The two of you are supposed to make us feel safe?" she asked.

"Wolves can be taught to fear, just as easily as men can," Avenant said. It shouldn't have been possible to mumble loudly and yet somehow he managed to do it, and while presenting his back to them as well. "They can be taught respect, too. They're predators…but they give way when a more fierce predator still stalks the wood."

Avenant and Amelie were the only two people who did not sleep inside the carriages that night. Just as they rode horses rather than riding in the coaches, so they pitched their blanket rolls out on the ground by the side of the road. Though whether they slept there at all Belle could not have said, for in the middle of the night she was woken by a thunderous gunshot, and when she looked out of the window she couldn't see any sign of either one of them before tiredness overtook her and she drifted off to sleep again.

But come the morning, Amelie had a silver wolf pelt slung over the back of her horse that hadn't been there before, and she was looking very pleased with herself.

Belle disliked both of them. That might have seemed so obvious as to go without saying, but nevertheless she disliked both of them. Perhaps if one of them hadn't been Gaston's brother she wouldn't have been so pre-disposed to harsh judgement of them both…but he was Gaston's brother, and that meant that the very way he looked at her bothered her.

As they travelled across Gallia, there were times when they would stop at an inn or a lodging house, and at those times Belle would find herself treated as though she was a princess, or a lady at least, and not just a poor girl who happened to have married a prince without advancing her own station by a single jot. She shared the best room in the house with Adam, was treated to hot meals and even hotter baths, and slept in beds that were, if not quite as soft as the bed they shared at the castle, nevertheless soft enough to curl up in next to the man she loved and love him before falling into the embrace of sleep.

At other times, however, they had to stop in the middle of nowhere, and sleep in their coaches or camped out nearby, eating cold food or cooking over open fires. It was during those times that Belle felt the presence of Maria Theresa's pair of watchers the most. The way they watched her, the stoniness of Avenant's face, the gleam in his eyes…there were times when she felt as if he was purposefully going out of his way to frighten her.

And the worst part was that it was working.


"Will you stop that?" Amelie demanded. "I swear, it's almost as if you're trying to frighten the poor girl."

The two of them were sitting on either side of a dying fire which, having fulfilled its purpose of allowing them to smoke some of the kippers they had brought in the last village they'd passed through on the road, they had allowed to smoulder into embers. The smoke rose up between them still, but even that was dying away, with only a few slightly eye-watering wisps left to reach up for the sky. The sun was rising over the horizon as they spoke, and soon it would be time to be on their way once more.

But there was still time to give Avenant a harangue that he had deserved a little more each day since they set out on this trip.

Avenant's blue eyes gleamed out from under the shadow of his top hat. His mouth twisted into something like incredulity. "That poor girl? Really?"

Amelia tilted her chin, the better to look down her nose upon him. "And? What's wrong with that?"

Avenant shrugged. "Nothing, except that it's coming from you, an actual poor girl. And you have seen who she's married to, haven't you?"

"Don't be peda, don't be a pe…don't be pederas…don't nitpick!" Amelie said sharply, once she had given up on finding the word that Her Majesty used. "You know what I mean. And you saw the way Her Majesty treated her, didn't you? Like she didn't exist. Her Majesty never treats me like that."

"You are of use to Her Majesty," Avenant replied. "We both are. That's the only reason she affords us even a morsel of notice or respect."

"I know," Amelie said, because she wasn't stupid or under any illusions. Service to the queen had been good to her and to Avenant, but Her Majesty didn't love them or nothing. The moment they stopped being useful to her that would be that.

Fortunately, Amelie didn't plan to stop being useful any time soon. "Anyway, it doesn't make me feel any less sorry for her. It must be awful, being treated that way."

"I'm sure that she has adequate consolations," Avenant said.

Amelie rolled her eyes. "Do you have to be like that? Would it kill you to try and be friendly to her?"

"Is that what you're doing?" Avenant asked, and some amusement crept into his voice as he leaned forward to whisper. "I don't think its working."

"It's not working because of you, scowling and staring and all the rest," Amelie muttered. "Can I ask you something?"

Avenant blinked. He took of his hat, and ran one hand through his dark, matted hair. "You can ask me anything you like, Amelie. You know that."

"Why did you mention your brother?" she asked. "You didn't have to."

"Perhaps not," he replied. "But unless I lied it would have come out if they asked any questions, as soon as Her Majesty mentioned that I was a local boy."

"You could have lied," Amelie murmured. "You're a good liar; good enough to fool them, I bet." She paused. "You're not your brother; I know that, but you didn't give them a chance to see that for themselves because it's all they see now."

"He was my brother," Avenant said. "Am I supposed to ignore that?"

"It's not as if you liked him."

Avenant was silent for a moment. "True enough, but…he was still my brother. And they killed him. There has to be…consequence for that."

Amelie snorted. "If half the things you've told me about your brother are true then he got what was coming to him, and it was only a matter of time before someone did for him besides." She sighed. "We're not here to be their executioners."

"We're not here to be their friends, either."

Amelie exhaled sharply out of her nostrils. "You know that the last thing Her Majesty would want is for you to let this get personal. If she finds out you put the job at risk because of how you felt-"

"This hasn't got anything to do with the way I feel."

Amelie scoffed. "Then why are you acting like the big, bad wolf?"

Avenant was silent for a moment. "You know why," he muttered.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do," Avenant replied. "And it's nothing to do with me, or my brother, or my feelings. You say that Her Majesty wouldn't like this, but it has everything to do with Her Majesty. She doesn't trust these too."

"Her Majesty doesn't trust anybody," Amelie said. "Except us."

Avenant's eyebrows rose.

"She must trust us a little bit," Amelie said. "Else…who sends two people they don't trust to keep an eye on the people they don't trust."

"Somebody who doesn't have anyone that she can trust," drawled Avenant. "The point is, if these two betray Her Majesty…betray the Empire…it will fall to us to do something about it. That'll be much easier...if we haven't been getting cosy with them beforehand."

Amelie frowned, her forehead wrinkling between her brows. She looked over her shoulder, to see Belle shooting anxious glances their way. "I don't know," she said. "I mean, I know what you mean: the dog you've raised from a pup is the hardest to put down. But I don't know why we're here, not really. I don't think they're going to betray Her Majesty or the Emperor. They want what she's dangling in front of them too badly for that."

Avenant chuckled. "A gift in one hand; a knife in the other. That's Her Majesty's way."

Amelie smiled wryly. "Isn't that the truth?" She sighed. "Look, I'm not asking you to make friends with her or anything, but can you just…not actively try and scare her for the whole way to Armorique. It's going to be a long trip if you can't, and besides…"

Avenant looked at her, and gave her a moment to finish which she did not take. "What?"

Amelie glanced at Belle once again. "I'm a huntress. I like dogs, I like horses; I don't mind guns or knives. I like hunting, not…this." She waved her hands to encompass the camp. "There are times when I almost wish that I hadn't come to Her Majesty's notice."

"This pays better than skinning deer or frightening off poachers," Avenant observed.

"I know," Amelie said wearily. "And I've not great objection to being the ones to take the high born down a peg when they forget their place in the pecking order. But that woman there, behind us? She's more like us than she is like Her Majesty, no matter who she married. It doesn't feel right."

"We don't get to choose what's right and what's wrong," Avenant informed her, as though she could have forgotten that incredibly important fact. "We're servants of Her Majesty."

"I know," Amelie said. She felt she ought to have said more but…the words just wouldn't come, so she settled for repeating herself. "I know."


"What do you think they're talking about?" Belle asked Adam softly, as she glanced at the two 'guests' imposed upon them by Queen Maria Theresa.

"I really couldn't say," Adam said.

"I don't like them," Belle admitted. She wasn't afraid to admit that she was afraid, not when she had good reasons for fear.

Adam put his hands on her arms. Even as a human he had strong arms, and a firm grip, and feeling that firm grip upon her steadied her just a little. "I don't like them either, but we cannot do anything about it. And…I hope that so long as we do all that we are supposed to do then all will be well, and we won't have any trouble from them."

Belle looked up into his blue eyes, still the most familiar thing in his whole face to her. "Do you really believe that?" she asked. "Even though you know who he is?"

"If he were here by himself that really would worry me," Adam said. "But he is a servant of the Queen, not of himself, and she wouldn't go to all this trouble just to get rid of us. She wants our mission to succeed, and it will; and because it will, we don't need to worry about her…insurance."

Belle nodded, because it made rational sense. The alternatives were, from a perspective of pure, clear thought, bordering on nonsensical. Maria Theresa, daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor, Dowager Queen and Regent of Bavaria, Habsburg princess and descendant of Frederick and Snow White, would never trouble herself to enable the fraternal revenge of a mere army captain, and even if by some miracle she did she wouldn't commission them to go all the way to Armorique on a plausible-sounding diplomatic mission to do it.

But if she had ever been guided by pure rationality she could not be now, because this was Gaston's brother and he had eyes like a hungry wolf and his friend with her manner so glib wasn't helping either. She couldn't trust them. She could not help but fear them.

It occurred to Belle then that that might have been exactly what Maria Theresa had been hoping for, and a flame of anger flared up inside her at the woman who could not leave them alone, whose malign shadow lingered over them like a shroud even when they were on the other side of Europe, who for all that she might promise respect and equality could not but reach out all the way from Munich or Vienna to instil uncertainty and fear in Belle.

Belle almost hated her, and yet still she would do exactly as she wanted, or at least help Adam to do what she wanted in any way she could.

Between what they stood to gain and what they stood to lose, how could she do otherwise?

Thus burdened and besieged by fear and suspicion they made their way, yard by yard, mile by mile, day by day, to Armorique until they had passed into the borders of that kingdom. Once they passed the borders Adam sent Lumiere on ahead to Brest both to find lodgings for them and to act as a messenger to the court with news of their coming, their mission, and their impending arrival.

And so they made their way step by step, yard by yard, mile by mile, day by day until they had reached the capital and very heart of that romantic kingdom, where the great gleaming palace reached into the sky and shone under the bright light of the sun.

Prince Adam and Belle had arrived in Armorique; it remained to be seen what they would do now that they had arrived, and what Armorique – and the princess who, it was said by some, ruled the land in all but name – would make of them.