The next morning, Adam awoke feeling just as disgruntled and unsatisfied as he'd felt the night before. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Martin, the manservant who'd been assigned to him, entered the room carrying some newly laundered clothes.

"Good morning, My Lord," he said cordially.

"Good morning," Adam replied. "What are those?"

"The King's old wardrobe, sire. The tailor made a few alterations to fit the size of your old shirt and trousers, as per my mistress's request. They're a few seasons out of fashion, but I'm sure you'd prefer them to those old rags you came in last night."

"I can't say those old rags will be missed," Adam agreed. "Thank you, monsieur."

"Of course." Martin bowed. "The Princess is hosting a breakfast for her guests and has invited you and Mademoiselle Gagnier to join her. Feel free to head downstairs once you're ready."

"Excellent," said Adam. "I'll get ready straight away." He was hungry, but also nervous about seeing Belle again after last night's confession.

He came downstairs a half-hour later wearing his new outfit: a black three piece suit with a red cravat. He heard laughter as he entered the dining room and turned to see Amandine and Vincent sitting together at a long table with whom he assumed were the other party guests.

Belle was sitting between Amandine and the visitors, a polite smile plastered on her face. It took a second for Adam to confirm that she was Belle because she was wearing a light pink robe à la française adorned with lace. He found this surprising, given Belle's clear distaste in wearing such fancy gowns in his old timeline. She'd made it clear from her first day at his castle that she wouldn't come within ten feet of anything that resembled stays, a pannier or a wig. So now that he saw her dressed like this; looking more noblewoman than peasant, he couldn't help but admire how pretty she really was. Maybe high fashion wasn't in Belle's tastes, but she did look awfully good in it.

"Cousin!" Vincent exclaimed, startling Adam from his musings. "How nice of you to join us."

"Ahem." Adam cleared his throat. "Good morning, Vincent. Happy Birthday, Your Highness."

"Thank you, My Lord," Amandine replied pleasantly. "Allow me to introduce you to my guests." She gestured to the people sitting on the right side of the table. "This is Duke Denis de Truchis de Lays, Vicomtesse Adeline de Béthune Hesdigneul and Mesdemoiselles Cassandre and Caroline de Forcade de La Grèzère. My friends, this is Count Adam de Droitebrume, a cousin of Marquis Vincent. He and his friend Mademoiselle Belle Gagnier are staying here as my special guests."

"Enchanté," Adam said to the nobles with a bow, wondering how he was possibly going to remember so many names.

The nobles greeted him back with polite salutations of their own.

"Please, have a seat, My Lord," Amandine continued. She pointed to the last available chair at the table, which happened to be across from Belle. Belle glanced at Adam once as he sat down, but apart from that, there was no acknowledgement on her part. Perhaps it was better that way.

"We were just getting acquainted with your lady friend," Vincent was saying. "Cousin, you must bring this girl around with you more often! Did you know that she's familiar with the works of the English playwright, William Shakespeare?"

"Well... only a few of his plays," Belle corrected bashfully. "At the church in my village, the chaplain keeps a small collection of books open to any villager who wishes to read them. He's always wanted to add more, but it's impossible with His Majesty raising the taxes every year. It's a shame because with all the money the King's taken from us, he could easily build a library for every town in the kingdom. But I guess he has to put that income to more important things. Like all the champagne he has to serve at his next dinner party, or the fur coat he has to wear to his next formal function."

Adam would have laughed at that, if not for the fact that he'd spent the people's taxes just as frivolously once.

"That is a pity," Vincent agreed. "Still, a peasant girl who can fight against those odds and teach herself to read Shakespeare is an absolute marvel! Wouldn't you agree, coz?"

"Hmm?" Adam looked up from his plate. "I suppose."

"Mademoiselle Gagnier, if you like Romeo and Juliet, you'll adore the opera Orpheus and Eurydice," Amandine said eagerly. "It's such a tragic love story but told with such lovely music. It's about a lyre player named Orpheus who journeys to the Greek underworld to retrieve his dead wife, Eurydice. The only condition is that to rescue her, he can't look at her until they return to earth. But Orpheus is unable to resist the temptation and eventually looks at his wife, causing her to die again. After that, he sings the most heartbreaking aria and vows to kill himself to join her, until Amour, the God of love, stops him. Amour sees that Orpheus's love for Eurydice is true, so she brings her back to life, and they live happily ever after."

"Goodness gracious, Amandine. You've spoiled the entire plot for her!" Vincent teased. "Anyway, Orpheus and Eurydice is a fine opera without question, but it can't hold a candle to Handel's Acis and Galatea. That opera is an absolute masterpiece."

"Oh, that one is beautiful," Amandine said fondly. "I especially love Acis and Galatea's duet before Polyphemus arrives. You can practically feel how strong their love is, not only in their words but in the way their voices mingle and complement each other so harmoniously."

"And alongside Polyphemus's jealous rage, what a contrast!" Vincent added. "The counterpoint between the three of them created so much tension, I was on the edge of my seat."

"And what about when Galatea mourns Acis's death?" Amandine added. "Her singing is so sweet and ethereal, like something from a dream. It's no wonder that Acis fell in love with her."

"Those high notes that float over the chorus are exquisite," Vincent agreed.

"Indeed. As are those delicate little trills and melismas she sings in the first aria."

By now, the table had gone silent as everyone's attention turned to Amandine and Vincent's animated conversation. They both spoke so passionately about their favourite parts of Acis and Galatea, it was as though they'd forgotten that there were other people in the room with them. Belle herself was so stunned that she let a piece of her waffle slip from her fork without noticing.

It wasn't until a servant entered the room with a tray of smoked sausages that the two nobles returned to their senses.

"Yes… well. Pardon my enthusiasm," Amandine said, bowing her head shyly. "I simply wanted to make the case that opera can be just as compelling as literature. Everyone ought to see at least one performance in their lifetime if they have the means."

"No need to explain yourself, Your Highness," Vincent replied with an affectionate smile. "For what it's worth, I like your enthusiasm."

The Princess giggled. Meanwhile, Adam pressed a serviette to his mouth, wondering how he was going to keep his food in once it arrived.

After breakfast, Amandine took her invitees on a personal tour of her castle. Adam and Belle were saved from talking to each other by the other party guests, who engaged them in separate conversations as they traversed the castle's many winding corridors and stairs. Adam had yet to stay in a castle that surpassed the grandeur of his own, and the Château de Vivecolline was no exception. But he still could appreciate its unique features, including its high vaulted ceilings, an interior courtyard with stone columns and a hallway of old tapestries that dated as far back as the early sixteenth century. It wasn't until they reached the art gallery—a spacious marble chamber decorated with numerous sculptures and paintings—that he found himself alone again. While Vincent and the other visitors admired the different art pieces around the room, Adam wandered over to Belle, who was examining a painting of a man and woman staring at each other across a low brick wall, a large white castle in the distance.

"Oh, Papa would have loved this," she said longingly. "He always complained that there wasn't enough inspiration for him back in Villeneuve. Sometimes he'd talk with the other artists when they came to paint the meadow behind our village, but it wasn't the same."

"You never know," Adam said encouragingly. "Perhaps he'll come back with you one day and see these paintings for himself."

"Perhaps," she agreed. "If the Princess has reason to invite me here again first. So"—she looked back at the Count—"are you going to tell me more about this secret weapon of yours?"

Here we go, Adam thought with a roll of his eyes. Crossing his arms over his chest, he replied, "What more is there to tell? It's a secret. S-E-C-R-E-T."

"Sure. So is it a magic sword, like Excalibur?"

"No."

"The holy grail?"

"No."

"Red shoes that make you dance to your death when you put them on your feet?"

"Will you shut up?" he snapped. "It's none of those things. I'm not even sure if it exists. It may not even work for that matter."

"Well, you obviously have some faith that it does," she countered. "Or else why would you be so interested in finding it?"

"Why do you keep asking me about it?"

"Because I happen to care about improving the well-being of my kingdom, unlike some people that I know. And well… maybe there's something I can do to help."

"You, help?" He scoffed. "I don't think so. Besides, what could you do that would be remotely useful? You're too, too…" Important. Precious. Valuable to lose.

"Too what?" she demanded.

He bowed his head. "Nothing."

But Belle was already calling his bluff. "It's because I'm a woman, isn't it?" she said accusingly. "You think I'm not capable of handling myself because I'm 'the weaker sex.' Well I'll have you know that I've been through far worse than you. While you've had servants at your beck and call every day, I've spent my whole life getting up at the crack of dawn, doing chores, looking after my father, trying to make ends meet. Don't you dare suggest that I don't know what I'm getting into. I know far more about the harsh realities of the world than you."

"I wasn't going to say that you're weak," Adam countered. "What I meant to say is that you're too... involved with your father's well-being. Yes. That's it. Do you really think you could go on some dangerous adventure without him worrying about you? You saw how devastated he looked in the mirror last night. Besides, this is a mission that can be completed by one person, and one person only. It has to be me."

"Says who?" she demanded. "Agathon, or your ego?"

"Says me," he growled. "This place… this reality, it was never supposed to happen. I was supposed to be king. Gaston was supposed to stay in Villeneuve and serve in the war as a soldier; not become my brother. The whole reason he's king now… the whole reason the kingdom is the way it is is because of me."

"You know that's not true," Belle disagreed. "It was your father who made Gaston his heir and refused to see the worth in you. He made a mistake, not you."

"You still don't get it!" Adam snapped. "Gaston and my father were never supposed to meet at all. But I did something. Something stupid, that changed the course of everything. And I'm the only one who can change it back."

"I don't understand."

"Good. Then we can finally drop the subject."

He stormed away from her, wondering why he'd bothered to talk to her in the first place. Even in an alternate reality, Belle still had a way of getting under his skin like nobody else. It made her so unbearable to be around, and at the same time, so irresistible.

Adam distanced himself from Belle for the rest of the day. When evening arrived, and the time came to attend Amandine's birthday celebration, he chose to stand next to Vincent in the ballroom, pretending to look busy. Which would have worked better if his cousin was actually in the mood for conversation. After spending most of the afternoon with Amandine, the Marquis seemed content to watch from a distance as she greeted her party guests, a faraway look in his eyes. It was an embarrassing situation for Adam, if not a bit creepy. Surely he hadn't looked that conspicuous when he'd fallen in love with Belle for the first time?

"I see you and the Princess are getting quite chummy," he said to his cousin in jest. "Is an engagement soon to be in order?"

"What?" Vincent replied, breaking out of his stupor. "I mean... no, of course not! I just happen to appreciate her love of opera and fine art, that's all. Besides, with a dowry as high as hers, her father will only hand her off to the best. She deserves to be with some rich prince fellow… not a 'lowly marquis' like me."

"Never say never, coz," Adam said encouragingly. "He might bend a few rules if he sees her with someone who makes her happy. Marrying someone for their status is important, but finding your true love is an even more valuable gift."

"Well, look at you, being all poetic," Vincent smirked. "And as much as I'd like to agree with you, we both know that's not how things work in the French court. The only reason we marry is to advance our wealth and legacy. Anything else would be a distraction and a waste of time. Besides, why are we talking about my love life? Why not talk about that lovers' quarrel you and Mademoiselle Gagnier seemed to be having back in the art gallery?"

It was Adam's turn to look embarrassed. If Vincent had been watching him then who else? "That was not a quarrel," he said defensively. "We were simply… disagreeing about something."

"Right." Vincent quirked an eyebrow. "You know coz, I'm beginning to suspect that there's another reason why you're not in a big hurry to reclaim the throne from your brother."

"Why's that?"

"It's because of your lady friend, isn't it? You feel something for her. And you're afraid that once you become king, she'll distance herself from you because she'll think she's unworthy of your royal status."

Adam furrowed his brows in confusion. "That's—"

"Preposterous, I know!" Vincent finished with a grin. "But look at it this way. When you become king, you can court any woman you want. You could make Mademoiselle Gagnier's father a baron with a wave of your hand and no one could say anything to the contrary. Nothing is stopping you from marrying the girl if that's what you want."

Adam's face went red at Vincent's proposal. Maybe there was some truth to his words. But that didn't mean that he was going to follow through with them. Belle was off-limits and would sooner marry an illiterate braggart than marry him anyway. The chances of her becoming his wife in this reality were slim to none. "First of all, Belle's not just 'any woman,'" he argued, trying to regain his composure. "If she could refuse to become King Gaston's courtesan, then she could just as easily refuse a marriage proposal from me. And secondly, I don't have feelings for her. I'm helping her get out of harm's way until she can reunite with her father."

"Well, you certainly fooled me," Vincent said with a smirk. "Couldn't you ask Amandine to assign her a bodyguard if her safety means that much to you? It seems like you're putting in an awful amount of effort to protect one person."

"I'm not doing this to impress her!" Adam insisted. "I'm doing this because I promised I would help her and am therefore obligated to fulfill that promise. I'm acting out of honour, not love."

"And yet it's amazing how often the two coincide," Vincent joked. Adam raised a fist at him, so he put up his hands and added, "Fine, fine, I yield! But if there's even a small chance that you feel something for the girl… well, let's just say that I wouldn't object. I mean, you haven't exactly had an easy life, coz. After your mother died, my father tried to persuade your father to let you stay with us, but it seemed he wanted you all to himself, even with that bigheaded hunter under his wing." He looked away from Adam for a moment, like he was uncomfortable talking about such heavy subjects. "Given everything that's happened to you… I think you've earned the right to a bit of happiness. So, if Mademoiselle Gagnier makes you happy, then I see no reason why you shouldn't pursue a relationship with her. I mean, she is quite a remarkable girl. For a commoner."

"That's touching, Vincent," Adam said dryly. "But I can assure you that nothing is going on between us."

"Then I shall say no more on the subject," Vincent vowed. "Although…" He paused and stared at something across the room. "That looks like trouble, doesn't it?"

Adam looked to where his cousin was pointing. Belle, who had previously been talking with Vicomtesse Adeline, Mademoiselle Caroline and Mademoiselle Cassandre, was now hurrying away from them—or as fast as she could walk in her new ballgown. Amandine had wasted no expense in making sure that Belle looked just as presentable as her other guests, and so had given her a satin magenta dress to wear with long flowing sleeves. No one would ever suspect that she was really a peasant girl; except for the fact that she was struggling to walk gracefully in her big hoop skirt and high-heeled shoes.

The two noblemen continued to watch her as she slipped through the glass double doors that led into the castle's back gardens.

"Well don't just stand there," Vincent said, nudging his cousin's arm. "Go talk to her!"

"Why me?" Adam demanded, feeling like he'd been asked to bring a wild horse to heel.

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Do I have to spell it out for you? You brought her here, so she's your responsibility! And don't try to use me as an excuse. I know how to find my own dance partner, thanks."

Adam groaned. He hated to admit it, but Vincent was right. As Belle's technical chaperone, it would be improper of him to leave her outside by herself.

He followed Belle through the doors, into a stone terrace with stairs that led down to the gardens. Belle was standing in front of the balustrade, gazing at the sunset with a discouraged look on her face. All of a sudden, any harsh or condescending words Adam wanted to say to her died in his throat. He imagined how homesick she must have felt, being so far from her father and forced to mingle with strangers who lived completely different lives from her own. It filled his heart with pity, but also understanding. He too knew what it was like to feel such an emotional disconnect from everyone. It was something he'd suffered through at every ball he'd hosted before the curse. He just wouldn't let himself admit it at the time.

"Mademoiselle?" he called out to her.

Belle turned around and her sad expression immediately hardened into a sharp glare. "What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"I uh, saw you walk out and thought I'd follow you," he answered, clasping his hands together nervously. "It's not exactly proper for a young lady to be outside unchaperoned."

"Oh, so I'm a house pet now?" she sneered. "This is hardly the first time I've been outside on my own. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thanks."

"I know."

She blinked at him in confusion.

"Ahem. I mean… I know that Princess Amandine would be upset to see one of her guests walking out on her party," he corrected.

"Really?" She raised her brows in feigned surprise. "Because I honestly thought I was doing her a favour. I'd be better off serving as one of the Princess's chambermaids than spending all night strutting about in this uncomfortable… cage." She gestured to her ballgown in disgust. "I'm not a noblewoman, and everyone in there knows it."

"So what if they do?" Adam questioned. "That doesn't mean that they're looking down at you because of it. You're one of the Princess's special guests, remember?"

"More like a charity case." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't say harsh things like that. I am truly grateful that the Princess has been so kind to me, especially when she barely knows me. It's just… I feel like I don't belong there. Which is a silly thing to feel, because I've never belonged anywhere."

"Why do you say that?"

She looked over the balustrade and sighed again. "The people in my village call me a 'funny girl.' Only I'm not sure if they mean it as a compliment. They think it's odd for any woman to have ambitions outside of marrying and bearing children. I feel the same way about this ball. Everything, from how you dress, to what you say matters. And if you go off-script even once, people will look down at you forever." She glanced back at him with a perturbed expression. "How can you stand living your whole life like that?"

"I don't," Adam admitted, joining her at the balustrade. "I'm just good at pretending that I can. Balls can indeed be superfluous, and aristocrats judgmental. But it's all a necessary part of diplomacy. Besides, the dancing isn't too bad."

"You dance?" She stared at him intriguingly.

"Well"—he cleared his throat—"being an ex-prince and all, I suppose you can say that it was part of my formal education. That and how to sign contracts. And how to translate Latin and Greek."

Belle smirked. Feeling that she was beginning to warm up to him, Adam continued, "If it makes you feel better, I know what it's like to live in judgment. I spent my whole childhood learning how to be king. My father wanted me to be exactly like him, there was no room for error. And then when I became a… second fiddle to Gaston, I was desperate to do anything to stay in my father's good graces. I spent so much of my life trying to meet his expectations, that there was never any time for me to learn to be myself. So… in a roundabout way, I know how it feels to be trapped between two identities. And I know how lonely that can feel."

Belle nodded, sympathizing with his plight. "Could I ask you a question if you'll give me a straight answer?"

"It depends on the question."

"It's just… I feel that there's something very strange about you," she admitted. "Since the moment we met, you seem to barely look me in the eyes or talk with me for longer than ten minutes at a time. Do you act this way around all your female subordinates? Or have I done something to offend you?"

"You haven't done anything to offend me."

"Then why won't you tell me anything about Agathon's mission?" she persisted. "Or at least explain why you don't want anyone to help you? You were clearly willing to save me and my father from the King's guards, but you refuse any aid for yourself. I don't understand."

Adam sighed. By now, Belle's obsession with his quest was more than a slight inconvenience. It was downright irritating. "The only thing you need to 'understand' mademoiselle, is that this is none of your concern!" he snapped back at her. "It's not because I dislike you or think you'd be a bad fit for the job. It's because I strongly believe that definitely, under no circumstances should we be working together."

"Why not?" She pursed her lips together, thinking. "Is it because you're afraid of me?"

Her question caught him off-guard. He hesitated before stuttering, "N-no. Of course not."

But Belle saw straight through the lie. "That is it, isn't it?" she said, stepping closer to him. "You're scared of me. Why?"

Because of what I've done to you. Because of what I could do again…

He bowed his head in shame. He was moments away from making one of the biggest mistakes of his life. But what was the alternative? Belle had him pinned to a corner. And if he was completely honest with himself, he was tired of constantly lying to her and pretending to be someone he no longer was. "Have you ever done something in your life that you regretted?" he asked her softly. "Something so awful that you would give anything to change it?"

"Doesn't everyone?" she answered. "Is this related to my question, or are you trying to change the subject?"

"I'm answering your question. So... if you could undo one mistake from your past, what would it be?"

She pursed her lips, thinking. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" He stared at her in surprise.

"Yes."

"But... why?"

"Because... if I'd never made any mistakes, then I wouldn't have learned how to make things right again."

Adam snorted. Typical Belle. With her inventor mentality, she likely believed that there wasn't a problem in the world she couldn't solve. He loved and resented that quality about her. "I wish I shared your optimism," he told her. "I've made many mistakes in my past. I've stepped on people and cast them aside, never once thinking about how my behaviour affected them. It wasn't until someone showed me the error of my ways that I finally came to terms with what I'd done. I had to suffer a punishment worse than death… until I found a way out."

Belle stared at him intriguingly as he continued.

"Everything I'm about to tell you is going to sound very strange. So, before I begin, you need to understand that magic can do more than heal bullet wounds or show you moving images in a mirror. It can also change parts of your past and bring you to alternative presents. I'm from one of those alternative presents. And I've met you." He looked back at her. "I've met you many times."

Slowly and reluctantly, he told her the story of his real past: how he'd lived his life as a spoiled and arrogant prince until Agathon's sister had punished him by turning him into a hideous beast. He couldn't bring himself to tell Belle that the curse was breakable—that would lead to uncomfortable explanations that he wasn't ready to disclose just yet. So instead, he told her that she'd lived with him as his temporary prisoner to pay for her father's crime of stealing a rose from the castle gardens.

"Wait a minute. You imprisoned my father because he stole a rose?" Belle said in disbelief.

"Like I said, I wasn't a good person back then," he explained. "I had a lot of anger issues and thought that everyone was out to get me, including your father. Anyways, you weren't treated like a prisoner. More like a guest. My servants made sure you had the best of everything: a nice bedchamber, comfortable dresses, good food to eat, full access to the castle library. But despite all these things, I knew that your life with me was a poor substitute for the one I'd taken from you. I saw how much you missed your father and it made me feel well… ashamed of myself. So, when your sentence was up, I decided to, to…"

"To what?"

"To take action," he finished nervously. "Not sit on the sidelines and embrace eternity as a monster but find a way to undo my past. I discovered that Agathe's book could travel through time, so I used it to go back five years and stop my curse from happening. That way, you and your father would never become my prisoners, and you would have no memory of those terrible days I forced you to live apart from each other. My servants would have another chance at freedom. And as for me…"

"... you could be a human again, unburdened by your past mistakes?" Belle finished curiously.

"Correct."

A flicker of fascination appeared on her face. "So then, what happened next?"

"Well, as you can see, it didn't work out. Yes, I was able to use the book to convince my past self to let Agathe into the castle. But everything that followed went from bad to worse. I found myself betrothed to a princess I didn't love and had no way of escaping my fate. And when I changed the past again, I saw that you"—he looked at her and then looked away again—"you were not much better than where you were before. I tried going back once more but ended up destroying the book in the process. Now, the only way I can fix this timeline is if I find something called the Nexus Tree in a forest in Brittany. That's where Agathon has sent me, and that's where I need to go."

"And the weapon?"

"Huh?" He looked back up at her in confusion.

"You said Agathon had sent you to find a weapon. Not a time travelling tree."

"The weapon is the tree," he clarified. "The reason my father found Gaston is because I killed Agathe in the past—by accident. So if I use the Nexus Tree to go back in time and prevent her death, then the two of them will never meet. Gaston will never become king, and his reign of tyranny will never come to fruition. Everything will go back to the way it should be."

"Uh-huh." Belle bit her lip again. "Well, I have to say that that's quite a story, even for me. I'm not entirely sure if you're telling me a falsehood or not."

"Believe me, I wish I could make something like this up," he insisted. "But it's true, all of it. How else could I know that your favourite book is Romeo and Juliet? Or that your father taught you how to dance? Or that you always ask him to bring back a rose when he goes to the city to sell his artwork?"

"Papa could have told you any of those things when you were in the dungeons," Belle argued, folding her arms over her chest. "You don't need a book with time travelling powers to figure that out."

"Fine." He shrugged. "Forget that. How about the fact that you've always wanted to travel and see the world but can't bear the thought of leaving your father behind? Or that you've always wanted to know how your mother died, but don't have the heart to ask your father how it happened? Or that your greatest fear is to be trapped in a poor provincial life until you grow too old and frail to fulfill your dreams of adventure? I'm sure your father would know everything about that."

Belle blinked rapidly. Her expression was firm, but not firm enough to conceal the disbelief in her eyes.

A sudden disturbance in the ballroom interrupted their conversation. The orchestra, which had been playing dance suites all evening, came to an abrupt halt. In its place rose a cacophony of startled chatter and exclamations, though they were too far away for Adam and Belle to know what they were saying.

"What's going on?" Belle asked.

"I don't know."

No sooner had they reached the glass doors, when Vincent appeared at the threshold, face as white as a sheet. "You better get in here fast," he urged. "King Gaston and his men are coming."