The next few days dragged along in a slow and unremarkable fashion. Adam passed the time by relearning old hobbies he'd abandoned as a beast, like fencing, playing chess and horseback riding. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed having the freedom to ride into the woods whenever he wanted, without dwelling on who and what he was.
But at the same time, the Prince felt bored, like a part of him was missing something. And he didn't have to be a genius to pinpoint what that something was. Belle. In the past few days, he'd been thinking about her far more than he wanted to. Whenever he walked through the castle, his eyes would look to all the places he used to find her, only to feel a sad longing in the pit of his stomach when he realized that she wasn't there anymore. When he'd close his eyes at night, he'd see her smiling at him from across the dinner table, a book in one hand and a spoonful of tomato soup in the other. It was as though he were mourning a loss, but a loss he had no physical evidence of, a loss only he remembered.
There's no use moping over something you can't change, he kept telling himself. So, in an attempt to put his old love behind him, he tried to focus on his courtship and upcoming marriage to Princess Amandine. But even this turned out to be a chore more than anything. While Adam was confident that Amandine didn't have a single bad bone in her body, she still lacked the fire and critical mind that had drawn him to Belle all those weeks ago. Just a day after her arrival, Adam took his fiancée to the library to read aloud from Shakespeare's Measure for Measure. Amandine understood the plot easily enough, but when Adam tried sharing his insights into the Duke's ulterior motives and the play's political undertones, she grew confused and overwhelmed, preferring to agree with him instead of challenging his thoughts as Belle would. The whole experience left Adam greatly unsatisfied. He hadn't realized how much he'd enjoyed having literary debates with Belle in the time they'd spent living together. Next to that, quiet evenings with a wife who was too polite to speak her mind did not feel like much of a trade-off.
On more than one occasion, Adam had entertained the idea of using the Enchantress's book to travel to Belle's village, just to catch a quick glimpse of her. He hadn't anticipated how lonely and disconnecting it could be to live in a new world, and perhaps the sight of her familiar face was what he needed to find closure on the matter. It wouldn't be too difficult either. With the right timing, he could travel to Villeneuve, see Belle, and return without anyone noticing his absence. But almost immediately after considering this idea, he chided himself for being so capricious. He'd never been a master of self-control and couldn't trust himself not to let one visit escalate into several, making him as bad as Lancelot or Macbeth in his inability to resist temptation. If there was one thing his old curse had taught him, it was to avoid making impulsive decisions that would lead to negative consequences in the future.
But while Adam had sworn off using the book to see Belle, he could still use its magic for other purposes. Each night he would read a little more of the mysterious story hidden in its pages. Its fragmented fairytale-like prose couldn't tell him everything that had happened in the last five years, but it was enough to update him on the essentials. Through it, Adam learned that he'd spent the last few years touring Europe with his mother-imposter; his old spending habits and womanizing tendencies were a thing of the past. His decision to marry a princess from another kingdom was his way of renouncing that old life for good. It was a decision his former self may have wanted, but Adam still wasn't sure if it was what he wanted.
Four days after arriving in the new timeline, Adam was gazing idly out the West Wing window, wondering if he could see Belle's village if he ordered someone to cut down all the trees when Cogsworth entered the room.
"Master? The Queen would like me to remind you that dinner will begin in fifteen minutes. Please don't be late."
"I won't," the Prince promised. He continued to look out the window as the majordomo shuffled around the room to collect his laundry.
"If I may speak openly, Master," he continued as he completed this task, "I couldn't help but notice how you've seemed more… reclusive as of late. Is everything all right?"
"Yes, Cogsworth. I just… I have a lot on my mind."
"Courting a fiancée is no small feat," the majordomo agreed in sympathy. "Still, I must say that the two of you make a highly agreeable couple. Princess Amandine is a lovely young lady."
"Indeed. She's everything a prince could want in a princess. I just…" Adam hesitated. "I just don't think that I love her."
There, he'd finally said it. And saying it was like revealing an ugly sin to the world. But it was the truth. As much as he'd tried to keep an open mind about Amandine, deep down he knew he was only fooling himself. He could never feel for her what he'd once felt for Belle. He looked back at his majordomo in guilt. "Is that…normal?"
Cogsworth looked surprised, but not repulsed. "I think the real question, Master, is: do you need to marry for love?" he asked. "From my experience, love is a childish notion that can lead to ridiculous flights of folly. Not to mention thoughts and feelings most unwelcome, unsavoury, and… well, nauseating." He wrinkled his face distastefully. "Yes, it's far better to marry someone you respect, even tolerate, than somebody you 'love.' Such feelings will only distract you from your priorities. Which must come before all else, including loved ones, as cruel as that may sound. Such is the duty of a prince."
"I suppose you're right," Adam agreed reluctantly. He wondered if he ought to bring up the fact that his parents had entered a loveless marriage that had ended in disaster. But surely that wasn't true of all marriages? If the only success criteria for a civil union was that the husband and wife respected each other, then he supposed he and Amandine were perfectly matched. "What about your wife?" he continued. "Did you marry her because you... 'tolerated' her?"
Cogsworth's face turned beet red. "Well now, that's a different story. You see, when I met Clothilde, I was, well, I was… I think I'd better check on Cuisinier to see how the dinner's coming along, yes?"
He scurried out of the room, forgetting to pick up one of Adam's shirts in the process. Adam sighed as he watched him leave. He knew that Cogsworth wasn't the best person to seek marital advice from, but there was some truth to what he was saying. Had the Enchantress never cursed him, Adam likely wouldn't have given a second thought to whether or not he loved Amandine or not. But after emotionally investing himself in Belle for so long, he now had doubts that he couldn't wish away. The question was: how long could these feelings last before they became more than an out-of-hand infatuation? And what should he do if they did last that long?
Dinner with Henriette, Amandine and François was a quiet affair. Adam had run out of things to say to the Princess, and Amandine hadn't been saying much to him either, apart from the occasional greeting and rigid small talk.
"Adam," Henriette said after the servants had cleared their appetizer plates, "François and I have been thinking. Perhaps, considering the sunnier weather, you'd like to give Amandine a tour of the local villages?"
Adam let out a sputtering noise, nearly choking on the wine he'd swallowed. "Erm, but some of them are quite far from here aren't they?" he replied once he could speak again. "It might tire out the horses to make them travel so far."
"Don't be ridiculous, dear," Henriette dismissed. "We used to tour the towns all the time when you were a boy, and none of our horses ever suffered for it! Besides, when's the last time you've travelled outside the castle? The fresh air will do you some good."
Adam turned to his fiancée reluctantly. "Amandine? Would you like to see the rest of the kingdom?"
"If His Highness wishes it, then I would be happy to go," the Princess replied.
"Of course he does!" said Henriette. And with her word, the trip was set.
Adam and Amandine set off on their tour of the kingdom first thing in the morning. Accompanied by Adam's driver, Ambroise, the two of them boarded the royal carriage and rode off into the woods. Less than an hour later, the small hilltop community of Villeneuve appeared on the horizon.
"That's Villeneuve, the closest village to our castle," Adam explained, eager to distract himself from the queasy sensation that had been building in his stomach since he'd woken up that morning. "It's a farming community and our main provider of food. Most of our servants' family members live in this village. Some of them also choose to retire here after they've grown too old to work at the castle."
"It sounds like a lovely place to live," Amandine said admiringly.
The carriage turned into Villeneuve's main street and the Princess peered out the window, hazel eyes widening as she took in the town's distinctive sights and sounds. "Oh, what adorable little houses! Is that a goat? And... a pig?" She let out an uncharacteristically girlish laugh. "And is that…" She gasped. "The marketplace?" She looked back at the Prince, face glowing in excitement. "Adam, would you mind if we looked around here for a little while? I've always been curious to know what the markets look like in these little towns. Sometimes you find the most interesting wares."
"Believe me, there's not much to see," Adam replied, trying to sound indifferent. "All the villages here sell the same things. Houseware items, livestock, clothing, produce..."
"But surely they wouldn't sell the exact same produce as they do in Claircomble?" she countered. "Just a small peek? I promise not to delay the rest of our trip."
Adam sighed. Truthfully, he didn't want to stop in this village because he was afraid of the possibility of running into Belle. But then he remembered the lecture his mother had given him the previous night about putting on a good face for his guests and relented. It wasn't right to refuse Amandine a tour of Villeneuve on account of his own irrational fears.
"Ambroise," he said, sticking his head out the carriage window, "stop here, please."
Villeneuve's marketplace was like a painting in motion. Citizens in brightly coloured clothes walked among the stalls, chattering loudly to each other as merchants called out to them to look at their goods. But at the sight of the Prince and Princess, the citizens ceased their babbling, stared at them in wonderment and bowed before clearing a path for them. Amandine nodded and smiled politely at everyone as she passed them. Adam, feeling uncomfortable, forced himself to do the same.
He followed Amandine to each of the stalls, keeping one eye on the crowd and one on his fiancée as she made small talk with the merchants. Despite his reservations about marrying her, Adam was thoroughly impressed with Amandine's ability to put a smile on the people's faces through her charisma and kind words. She had a genuine interest in connecting with her subjects; something Adam couldn't say about the women he used to mingle with in the days before his curse.
Twenty minutes later, the Prince and Princess returned to the carriage with bouquets of flowers and other free samples the merchants had given them during their visit. There'd been no sign of Belle in the marketplace, much to Adam's relief. Maybe she doesn't live in this town anymore and I got myself worked up for nothing!
But as he waited for Amandine to board the carriage so they could continue their tour, he heard a man shouting from the church behind them. His voice was booming and boisterous, making his words impossible to miss.
"Belle, I've done my best to play nice with you, but enough is enough! When are you going to wake up and realize that your father's music boxes will never provide enough income to live properly? I know how much you dote on him, and your daughterly devotion is certainly commendable, but face the facts: how many years does he have left in him? Once he's gone, you'll have nothing. Stop living in this senseless existence and accept that I'm the only future you have left!"
"I'm sorry, Gaston, but for the hundredth time, my answer is no."
That voice. Just hearing it sent shivers down the Prince's spine. He hated himself for turning around, knowing who he would see before he'd even laid eyes on her. There, standing in front of the church, basket on her shoulder, hands on her hips and a tight-lipped scowl on her face, was Belle. She was dressed in a simple blue working dress, not unlike the one she'd worn in her early days at the castle. The object of her scowling was a man in a brown and red jacket, his jet-black hair slicked back into a small pompadour. Another few feet away from them was a portly man in a blue coat, who was watching the argument with an uneasy expression
"You're only saying that because you're in denial of your feelings for me," the man with the booming voice continued. "Believe me, I understand. But I'm here to tell you that you don't have to hide your feelings any longer. Just drop the stubborn act and you'll see that you and I truly belong together."
"Feelings?" Belle laughed. "Gaston, you're a very accomplished hunter, and I'm sure you were brilliant in the war, but I just don't love you. And I'm quite sure you don't love me, either. You're just in love with the idea of me becoming your devoted wife."
"Oh, come on, Belle," Gaston retorted, pursing his lips together in a pout. "You know that's not true! I want to marry you because I care about you and think we'd be very happy together."
"Well, we'll have to agree to disagree then, won't we? Because I've pictured our future together and it doesn't interest me at all." She tried to step away, but Gaston grabbed her arm, pulling her closer.
"Belle, you know there's nothing I couldn't give you," he said, his voice now low and serious. "I'd never settle for anything less for my perfect wife. All I'm asking is for one little word in return."
He leaned closer to her until their faces were inches apart. At the same time, Adam's face began to flush as an uncontrollable rage took hold of him—something he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Adam?" Amandine called out to him in surprise. "Where are you going?"
"Give me a minute," he growled.
He stormed over to the couple. Belle was visibly uncomfortable and trying to back away from Gaston, but despite her efforts, the gap was closing fast.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Adam shouted.
At the Prince's unexpected appearance, Belle and Gaston's eyes widened in shock. "Your Highness!" they both exclaimed, separating from each other faster than two flies about to be crushed with a boot.
"I don't need anyone causing trouble in my kingdom," Adam continued firmly. "Would you care to explain what the commotion is about?"
"Prince Adam—what an honour it is to have you in our village," Gaston said smoothly, pouring on the charm. "I'm sure you know who I am: the army captain who so bravely defended your father's lands in the war and won so many battles. Why, if it weren't for me, even your own castle might have been taken by the invaders!" He paused a moment, clearly expecting thanks. When Adam remained silent, he looked a bit miffed but went on. "This young woman has taken my fancy, and I have done her the great honour of requesting her hand in marriage. Her prospects are poor: her father's sole income is making music boxes, and she has no dowry. She is also considered rather odd in this village—there are no other suitors on the horizon. I don't know if you're aware, but unmarried women in this town face a bleak future of poverty and begging in the streets. I am trying to save her from that dire fate!" He smiled and leaned closer to Adam as if talking one man to another. "As a royal, you understand more than anyone the vital importance of making the right match, one which will bring practical benefits to both parties. Perhaps you can help her see reason?"
Belle looked at the Prince nervously as Adam glanced back at her in pity. "I'm afraid that a woman's mind is her own, monsieur," he said coolly. "If she refuses a marriage proposal, then there's little I can do to sway her opinion."
"Exactly!" Gaston nodded in agreement. "You hear that, Belle? Even the Prince thinks that—Hey, wait a minute!"
"But I may be able to charge you for harassment, seeing as you tried to kiss the poor girl without her consent," Adam continued.
Gaston's face turned white as a sheet. "Oh no no no. Please forgive me, Your Highness," he apologized, lifting his hands up defensively. "I only meant to..."
"Oh, believe me, monsieur. I saw enough from my carriage to know what your intentions were. Now go about your business and leave the young lady alone."
Despite his pushy personality, Gaston seemed to know better than to pick a fight with a prince. He slouched his shoulders and scowled in defeat. "Come on LeFou," he addressed to the stout man standing loyally nearby, "we're leaving."
It wasn't until Adam had watched the two men disappear behind the church that he focused his attention back on Belle.
"Thank you, Your Highness," she said to him graciously. "That was very kind of you."
"That man had no right to treat you that way," he contended. "Who is he?"
"Gaston Légume. He's a war hero with an oversized ego. He thinks he's entitled to anything. Or anyone," she added under her breath.
"I'm very sorry. Are you all right?"
She fixed her dark eyes on him curiously, as though she'd never been asked this question before. "Fine for now, thanks," she answered in a guarded tone. He noticed that there was a book in her basket and tilted his head to read the title: Romeo and Juliet. Belle's favourite Shakespeare play.
The Prince felt a rush of hope, seeing an opening. He missed their Shakespeare discussions so much! Gesturing at the book, he smiled and said, "Wonderful book you have there!"
But instead of looking pleased, Belle's eyes narrowed skeptically. "That's exactly what Gaston said—except it turned out he'd never read it, or any other book, for that matter."
"Oh," Adam replied, thrown off-guard. "Well, I've read it."
"That's good to hear. I'm glad there are still some men in the world who appreciate literature." Belle curtsied. "Well, thank you again for your assistance, Your Highness. I should be heading home now."
"Erm... May I walk you back to your residence?" he proposed nervously. "In case Monsieur Légume and his companion... follow you?"
She tilted her head at him in suspicion. "Surely you have better things to do than escort a simple farm girl like me back to her house?"
"It's no trouble," he lied. "My driver is stopping to water the horses anyway."
"Well... if you insist." She bit her lip. "My name is Belle, by the way. Belle Gagnier."
"Prince Adam de Bauffremont. But um... I'm sure you knew that already."
Belle smiled sheepishly and headed for the direction of her home. Before Adam followed her, he turned around to see Amandine staring at him from the carriage. You idiot! he thought. In his haste to speak to Belle, he'd almost forgotten about the tour.
"I'll be right back," he mouthed to her.
Amandine looked confused but graciously retreated into the carriage to wait for him.
It wasn't long before Adam regretted his decision to escort Belle back to her house. Not only because he felt guilty about leaving Amandine behind, but because being alone with Belle was causing several unwanted feelings to resurface. He couldn't ignore the uncomfortable pounding in his chest or the sweaty sensation in his palms as he followed her through a cobbled side street and past several shops leading to the outskirts of the village.
"So, um... Mademoiselle Gagnier," he said, looking to break the awkward silence between them. "What do you do in this village? Aside from reading books, I mean."
"Well…" She paused. "I suppose you could consider me something of a homemaker. I invent things. Simple machines mostly, to help me complete my chores. It's not much, but it does make the housework quicker."
Adam smiled. He was glad that that part of Belle's history hadn't changed in this universe. "That sounds like a productive way to pass the time. And you live with your father?"
Belle perked up at the mention of her beloved father. "Yes, his name is Maurice Gagnier," she answered. "He's an artisan, and his specialty is in crafting music boxes. He's hoping to make a business out of it soon."
"I see. And how's that been working out for him?"
Her expression fell. "Truthfully, Your Highness, it's been a slow start. My father went to La Fontaine a month ago to sell one of his best boxes to a merchant there. But it was damaged shortly after he arrived in the city. It took him a day to return home, and several weeks before he could receive all the parts he needed to repair it. He's hoping to reassemble it by the end of the week so he can return to La Fontaine."
"Hmm. Well, I wish him well in his second attempt," said Adam. "May I ask what he's planning to do with the money he makes from this music box of his?"
"We're hoping to use the profit to move to a new town," Belle explained. "Perhaps someplace bigger, like Racine or Molière."
"Why? You don't like it here in Villeneuve?"
"No. I mean uh, yes!" she stammered. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I would never speak ill of one of your villages. It's just that my father and I have spent most of our lives living in small towns, making ends meet. But I believe that my father's new music box will be the start of a new life for us. A chance for us to run a business in a town where people can buy my father's crafts at a reasonable price. And perhaps for myself… maybe…"
"You'll find someone there who likes to read as much as you do?"
She looked at him with an incredulous expression. "Yes, actually. How did you know?"
"A lucky guess," he fibbed. "If I were in your position, living among braggarts who care more about marital life than fine literature, then I too would want to move somewhere where people understand and appreciate me. But I'm sure you won't have to look far." He smiled at her encouragingly. "People will admire you wherever you go, Mademoiselle Gagnier. Admire your interests in books and inventing machines, that is."
Belle returned his smile, albeit hesitantly. "Thank you, Your Highness. I appreciate that."
They approached a narrow brick and mortar house at the edge of the village; its ashen colour offset by a small green garden at the front of the property. Adam's eyes widened at the sight. He'd had an idea of the type of house Belle lived in based on her common status, but he hadn't expected to see this: a dreary-looking shack, no larger than the stables back at his castle.
"It's so small," he said in disbelief.
"Well, from a certain point of view, I suppose that it would be." There was a tinge of bitterness in her voice, and Adam was unsure if she was jesting with him or patronizing him.
"You're right," he apologized. "Please forgive my uncouthness." He cleared his throat. "I'm glad to have met you, Belle Gagnier."
"You too, Your Highness." She smiled at him again. "Enjoy the rest of your day."
"You as well." He bowed politely and watched as she climbed the stairs up to her house, a grin plastered on his face that lasted a bit too long.
"Who was that girl you were speaking to?" asked Amandine. She was sitting across from Adam in the carriage, Villeneuve rapidly shrinking into the distance as their driver chauffeured them to their next destination.
"Oh, just some artisan's daughter," Adam replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "She got into a skirmish with a man by the church who was trying to force her hand. She seemed shaken from the ordeal, so I thought it only right to walk her back to her house."
"The poor dear." Amandine clasped a hand to her chest in sympathy. "I'm sure she appreciated your chivalry."
"Yes. I believe she did." He forced himself to look back at the Princess. "What about you? Did you enjoy your tour of Villeneuve?"
"Oh yes!" Amandine answered, smiling brightly. "It's full of vibrant and interesting people. I'm very much looking forward to becoming their queen one day."
Adam's expression fell. "I'm… glad to hear that."
You fool! he chided to himself. You should be focusing on your marriage to Amandine, not some peasant girl who doesn't even remember you! Didn't you swear you would leave her alone once you changed time?
He knew he should be ashamed of himself for breaking his own rule, but he wasn't. All he could think about were those exhilarating ten minutes he'd spent alone with Belle in the village, seeing her face, hearing her voice again, feeling things for her that he shouldn't be feeling at all. These emotions, marred by the uncomfortable awareness of his current responsibilities, left him conflicted, and so he was silent for the rest of the trip.
That evening, after Adam and Amandine had returned to the castle, Henriette called them into her bureau for an emergency meeting about their upcoming wedding ceremony.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news," she began somberly, a roll of parchment in hand. "I've just received a letter from the Vicomte and Vicomtesse de La Tour du Pin, announcing they're unable to attend the engagement ball next week. It seems that the date of the ball conflicts with the Comte de Beaulaincourt's christening ceremony, which is occurring on the same day."
"The Vicomte and Vicomtesse de La Tour du Pin are a load of busybodies anyway," François said indifferently. "We'd be far better off without their company. Besides, that's just one invitation. Surely we have enough guests to continue with the festivities?"
"I wish it were so," Henriette replied. "From reviewing the RSVP list from LePlume, it looks like most of our invitees have also deferred their invitations in favour of attending the Count's ceremony. Out of the one hundred invitations we sent out, only a fifth of them have written back to say they will be coming next week."
"What?" The King looked flabbergasted.
"It is disappointing, but I can somewhat understand their reasoning," Henriette went on. "Many of the nobility in this part of France find it more convenient to travel to estates that have paved roads and are easily accessible by carriage. Our castle, situated deep in the woods, provides neither of those luxuries."
"But surely there must be something we can do to amend the numbers," François insisted. "My daughter's wedding cannot proceed without a proper celebration!"
"I concur, François, but I'm afraid that our options are limited. Given the lack of invitees, we may well have to cancel our children's ball or reschedule it for another date."
Amandine tensed, clearly unhappy at the prospect and Adam frowned. As a prince, he well aware that a wedding between two members of the French monarch would be very anticlimactic if there wasn't a proper audience to receive them. And rescheduling the wedding would complicate matters, as François was leaving the castle after the ceremony to attend to affairs in his own kingdom. Meaning that next week was the only available time they had to host the engagement ball and wedding ceremony.
Then, an idea struck him. "What if we invited the townspeople from Villeneuve?"
Henriette looked at her son in surprise. "You would invite the common people to an aristocratic function?"
"Yes." Adam cleared his throat. "But hear me out, Mère. You've always said that the worth of a ruler is not in how he treats his equals, but by how he treats his subjects. What better way to practice that principle than by inviting the villagers to celebrate with us? They live close enough to the castle, so transportation won't be an issue." He turned to his fiancée. "Amandine, you liked speaking with the citizens in the marketplace, did you not?"
"I enjoyed making their acquaintance, yes," Amandine admitted. "And they do seem to be a pleasant group of people."
"Then I think it's a marvellous idea!" Henriette agreed. "Inviting the villagers will be a great way to strengthen our rapport with them and introduce you as the future King and Queen. François, what do you think?"
"It's certainly unconventional," the King replied. "But as long as the celebrations will continue as planned, then I have no objection to inviting the villagers to the wedding."
"Excellent. It's settled then." Henriette smiled and clapped her hands. "I'll have LePlume write a new set of invitations to send out to Villeneuve. With any luck, we'll have them ready by the end of this week. Thank you for your quick thinking, Adam."
The Prince couldn't believe his own luck. He was going to see Belle again, less than a week after running into her in the village! If she comes at all, said a nagging voice in the back of his head. She'd expressed her insecurities about mingling with her fellow townsfolk in the past. What if she was afraid that she wouldn't enjoy herself if she attended a ball with them, or that she'd be ridiculed for showing up? What if she chose to decline her invitation because of that?
Adam had just the idea to win her over.
It took him no time to find the first volume of Shakespeare's works in the library, tucked between a translated copy of Christopher Marlowe's The Massacre at Paris and Thomas Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy. Just seeing the old leather-bound tome was enough to overwhelm him with strong feelings of nostalgia. He'd lost track of the number of times he'd seen Belle pore over its pages in his old universe, amazed that one playwright could create stories with such intricate characters and captivating prose. If this book wouldn't make Belle jump with joy, then Adam didn't know what would.
He hurried to his writing desk, grabbed a quill and scribbled on the first page underneath the title:
To the girl who reads Romeo and Juliet, please accept this humble gift.
- Prince Adam de Bauffremont
He closed the book and went to find LePlume to ask him to include it with the Gagniers' wedding invitation.