Adam felt like his heart had dropped straight into his stomach. Gaston is here already?
He followed Vincent back inside, Belle following closely at his heels.
Amandine was speaking with two of her guards at the front of the ballroom. Judging from the way she was fretfully wringing her hands together; the conversation wasn't going well at all.
"It's true, Mistress," Adam heard one of the guards saying as they approached them. "Bellec and I saw him riding up to the castle with over a dozen armed men. We asked them to wait outside until we could get a hold of you, but the King was insistent that he speak with you immediately. He passed straight through our defences and is on his way to you this very instant."
"Then we have no time to lose," Adam declared. "Belle and I must leave at once."
"Don't be stupid," Vincent interjected. "We're not even sure if Gaston's here about you! For all we know, he could have heard that Amandine was throwing a birthday party and was offended that he didn't get an invitation. And while it's none of my business, something tells me that it would take more than a few minutes to get Mademoiselle Gagnier out of all her petticoats so you can make a clean getaway." To make his point, he gestured to Belle's bulky dress. "Is there any place in the castle where we can hide them?" he addressed to the Princess.
"Yes. Yes!" Amandine clasped her hands to her chest and nodded. "The wall panels in this room are detachable. We often use the space behind them for storage. Count Adam and Mademoiselle Gagnier could wait in there until we figure out what King Gaston wants."
"Is that an order, Your Highness?" asked the guard.
"Oui, Bernard. Hide them behind the walls, but make sure they're in separate places. We don't want to make it too easy for King Gaston to find them."
"Understood, Mistress."
Following the Princess's command, the guards escorted Adam and Belle to the opposite sides of the room. Bernard pulled aside one of the wall panels for Adam, revealing a musty and cobweb-infested cavity on the other side.
"I know it's not the most dignified place to hide, My Lord," he said with a sympathetic frown. "But it's for your safety."
"It's not like I have much of a choice," Adam muttered. He stepped inside and was soon immersed in darkness as Bernard replaced the wall in front of him. Only a small gap between his panel and the one next to him allowed him to see what was happening back in the ballroom. He pressed his eye to the crack and watched as Amandine and Vincent engaged in a heated discussion on what to do once Gaston arrived.
"Amandine, it's up to you now," Vincent was saying firmly. "If the King asks about my cousin, look him straight in the eyes and tell him you never saw him. Say that you didn't even know he was on the run until now."
"I can't do this, Vincent," Amandine replied, clenching her fists and shaking from head to toe. "My father knows how to deal with these sorts of people, not me!"
"Amandine, listen to me," Vincent said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Your father isn't here. He's given you full command of his household, which means that you have to greet the King in his place. I'll be with you every step of the way, but I can't do the talking for you. That's your responsibility, not mine."
Amandine looked into Vincent's eyes before biting her lip and nodding. "All right. I'll try."
The orchestra restarted their latest suite as the guests returned to conversing and dancing around the room like nothing was wrong. Even so, Adam could feel the tension in the air rise as he observed the uneasy looks on everyone's faces. Regardless of what the other aristocrats thought of his brother, he was sure that they weren't very thrilled to have him barge in uninvited to spoil their night of fun.
The King entered the ballroom a minute later. In true Gaston fashion, he was wearing a brown fur coat, crimson waistcoat and breeches. Behind him was an entourage of soldiers, all in red uniforms with Adam's family crest—though technically, Adam supposed that the crest belonged to Gaston now. Amandine's housekeeper, Geneviève, had arrived to announce the King to the guests, but the formality seemed unnecessary and almost silly. Gaston's presence practically spoke for itself.
"Your Majesty," Amandine said, approaching the King with a dainty curtsy. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Bonsoir Princesse," Gaston replied with a suave grin. "My, my. How pretty you've grown since our last meeting! It's such a shame that your father won't permit me to court you. We could make some lovely looking babies, you and I."
Amandine wrinkled her nose in disgust. But it was only for a moment before she went back to looking just as sweet and unassuming as she had before. "My captain of the guard mentioned that you wished to speak to me about something urgent?"
"Oh, it's urgent all right." Gaston nodded. "In fact, it's so urgent, I think that ALL OF YOU SHOULD HEAR IT!"
If the King didn't have the room's full attention before, he certainly had it now. The orchestra stopped playing at once. Everyone fixed their eyes on Gaston as he glided to the center of the floor with his arms outstretched, like an exalted champion in a gladiator tournament. "My fellow aristocrats," he announced in his booming, authoritative voice. "I have come to your Princess's castle tonight seeking information on my brother, Thomas-Alexandre de Breil de Pontbriand, Comte de Droitebrume. He is a dangerous outlaw who has recently been charged for the crimes of assault and battery, breaking out of prison, theft, and conspiracy to overthrow his king. I have it on good evidence that he fled my kingdom last night and crossed over into your charming region of Vivecolline. He may have also been in the company of a peasant girl named Belle Gagnier and her father, Maurice. If any of you have seen them or have information on their whereabouts, I will reward you generously. Or at least"—he narrowed his eyes derisively as he looked around the room—"throw you a better party than whatever you call this pigsty."
"Comte Thomas-Alexandre of Droitebrume?" Duke Denis, one of Amandine's party guests repeated with a perplexing tilt of his head. "Isn't he that harmless recluse who raises dogs and paints roses in his manor all day? Why on earth would he want to conspire against you?"
"Good question, my lesser-dressed friend," Gaston replied, eyeing the Duke's outfit like it was made from skunk hide. "I was quite surprised when I learned the truth myself. For eight years I've let Thomas stay in my smallest estate and given him a modest allowance to live on, purely out of the goodness of my heart. I thought that that would be enough for him, but it wasn't!" He clenched his fists in rage.
"Yesterday afternoon, Thomas came barging into my castle, demanding that I increase his allowance, yet again. And when he didn't like the new amount I proposed to him, he lashed out at me, saying that I was an unfair ruler and didn't deserve to be king. I should have known." He scowled. "Thomas was never interested in my money! All he wanted was to insult my leadership and prove that he would make a better king than me. Well, I couldn't have an ungrateful miscreant strutting around in my castle, no sir! So, I locked him up in my dungeons to teach him a lesson. I would have released him eventually, only he escaped on my best horse a few hours later. It confirmed my greatest fear." He put a hand to his chest and looked up at the ceiling dramatically. "My brother wants to seize control of my throne! He's been plotting it for years but hadn't the courage or supporters to back him up until now. That's why I need to find him, to snuff out his little rebellion and prove that I will always have the upper hand. It's what's best for me, and my kingdom."
"Hold on," Vincent said, narrowing his eyes skeptically. "You're saying that you've come all this way to arrest your brother because of a failed negotiation and because he challenged your competencies as king?"
"Why, of course," Gaston replied, looking astonished that someone would question him about such an obvious act of treason.
"Well, that's a bit of an extreme reason to accuse someone of treachery, isn't it?" the Marquis went on. "It sounds to me like you and your brother quarrelled, and you got upset after he said some things to hurt your ego. Why not put aside this senseless vendetta and work things out with him over a nice bottle of wine? That's a far better way to mend a dysfunctional sibling relationship, don't you think?"
Gaston looked as though the Marquis had slapped him in the face, he was so shocked. "What is your name, fool?" he asked.
"Marquis Vincent de Breil de Pontbriand, Your Majesty."
"De Breil de Pontbriand, eh?" He sneered. "You must be one of Thomas's cousins. That would certainly explain the vacant look on your face. Well, I'll have you know that I don't take advice from lowly marquises like yourself. You can't possibly know the terrible burden of associating with a vexatious sibling for the past fifteen years."
"Actually, I have a sister—"
"Silence!" The King thundered. He looked around the room again, disapproval written all over his face. "Very well. If none of you will help me, then we'll have to do this the hard way. Theriault"—he gestured to one of his guards—"have your men do a thorough sweep of the castle. No one is to leave this ballroom until we've investigated every nook and cranny for clues to my brother's whereabouts. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly, sir."
The room began to fill with restless noise and energy. This was not how the night was supposed to go at all! Adam felt his own heart pick up speed, knowing that his hiding place might soon be compromised. He imagined that Belle, hiding in the opposite side of the room, was thinking the same thing.
But then, a high feminine voice broke out across the din. "You can't!"
The room fell silent once again. Amandine stepped forward, breathing heavily and face flushing red as though she'd frightened herself by speaking out of turn.
"Begging your pardon, Your Highness?" Gaston said, taken aback by the Princess's strange behaviour.
"I said you can't," she repeated boldly. Her voice was strained and breathy, but the anger behind her words was undeniable. Adam had never seen her so livid before; not in this reality and definitely not in the one where he'd almost married her. "You are in the territory of King François-Xavier de Lanzac. But since he's away on business, it falls to me to manage the castle on his behalf. And I say that you are not welcome here, Your Majesty. You have insulted my birthday party and my guests and have therefore insulted me. I will not have you tearing my family's estate apart to find clues on your brother's whereabouts. Besides, there would be nothing to find. I haven't seen the Count, and neither have my guests. I must ask that you leave at once."
The King snorted. "You and what army, Princess?"
Amandine snapped her fingers. Instantly, her castle guards sprang into action, drawing their swords and advancing towards Gaston and his men. Another group of guards appeared behind the ballroom doorway, surrounding the intruders from all sides of the room.
Gaston's men looked very uneasy now. The King himself was at a loss for words. "Touché... my dear," he said, turning back to Amandine with a weak grin on his face.
Everyone was waiting for him to make the next move. He hesitantly reached for his sword, then thought better of it and shook his head.
"Fine. I'll seek elsewhere for information on my brother's location. But I'm warning you." He looked back at the guests intimidatingly. "You won't be seeing the last of me. Sooner than you know, I'll be ruling over all of you. And then you'll curse the day you chose not to take sides with me!"
He turned on his heel and marched out of the room, his soldiers following suit. Amandine's guards trailed cautiously behind them.
Barely anyone moved a muscle for the next ten minutes. Only the orchestra members resumed their playing, but it was merely a ploy to make Gaston think that his threat hadn't affected them. No one was in the mood for dancing while a hostile king remained under their roof.
Finally, Bernard returned to the ballroom with an update. Gaston and his men had left the castle. They were currently riding out West towards the town of Maisonbasse.
All the nobles burst into cheers. A guard removed Adam's wall panel, allowing him to step back into the room and breathe freely again. He watched in bewilderment as Vincent lifted Amandine into the air and spun her around the room. They continued to laugh and cling to each other like giddy schoolchildren, even after the Marquis had set her back on the ground.
"Amandine," he said breathlessly. "That was… well, that was amazing!"
"You really think so?" Amandine replied bashfully. "I was shaking so badly. I was so sure that the King would see right through me."
"Not a chance." Vincent shook his head. "He'll think twice before bothering you again. The same goes for any sleazy suitor for that matter."
Amandine laughed. "I couldn't have handled him at all if you weren't there to encourage me. Vincent"—she lowered her gaze, cheeks glowing a dull shade of red—"I have something to confess."
"Oh?"
"I care for you. As in, more than just a friend."
"Ohh." Now Vincent was turning red in the face.
"Do you feel the same way?" she continued, staring at him hopefully.
To Adam's surprise, instead of answering right away, Vincent turned to look at him. It was as though he was a stage actor who'd forgotten his lines and was expecting his cousin to prompt him.
"Go on," the Count mouthed, at a loss of how else to advise him.
Vincent took a deep breath and turned back to the Princess. "Amandine," he began nervously. "I would be lying… if I said I didn't have feelings for you. When I'm with you, it's like my heart could sing. I love the way you talk about opera. You've taught me so much about Gluck and Mattheson in the past year and I've enjoyed every minute of it. You're so kind and clever and wonderful and beautiful... but won't your father disapprove of us? I mean, he wants you to marry a prince, doesn't he?"
"I may know of some ways of turning him around," Amandine answered coyly. "You did stop an ill-mannered King from ruining my birthday party for one. Perhaps you could pay a visit here next month so I can introduce you to him properly?"
"I'd like nothing better," Vincent replied with a fond smile.
Amandine giggled and kissed him ardently on the lips. The Marquis seemed a bit surprised, but closed his eyes and kissed her back just as passionately.
Well, that's that, Adam thought, looking away from the couple in embarrassment. He let them enjoy their romantic moment as he watched the guards help Belle out of her hiding place. It had taken them longer to get her out of the wall on account of her big hoop skirt. Now she looked rather rumpled and had some grey dust bunnies sticking to her hair.
Once Vincent and Amandine had separated from their embrace, Adam came forward to speak to them in private. "Ahem. In light of tonight's circumstances, I think it's better if I don't prolong my stay here," he told them. "I'd like to leave by tomorrow morning at the earliest, while I still know where my brother is heading. The last thing I'd want is for him to find some reason to come back here and make life a living hell for the both of you."
"Where will you go?" Vincent asked, raising his brow in concern.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you," he admitted. "The truth is, I do have a plan to stop my brother. It involves travelling to Brittany to investigate a weapon with the power to dethrone him."
"A weapon?" Amandine said, intrigued. "What kind of weapon?"
Adam pursed his lips to stifle the sigh that arose. Belle had already tried his patience on this subject. "I wish I could tell you more, but I don't want to put either of you at risk by giving you too much information," he said simply.
"Can we at least ask who you're working with?" Vincent asked. "Is it a rebellion?"
"I'm not working with anyone. This is a… quest, if you will, that only I can undertake."
"I would imagine you would need some sort of help!" Amandine insisted. "I can grant you a few of my men to guard you on your way."
"That is… a very kind offer, Princess," Adam refused as gently as possible. "But it is best I remain discreet. The less conspicuous I am on the road, the less likely I am to be discovered by Gaston and his army."
Vincent and Amandine exchanged uncertain looks.
"Well, I suppose that's for the best then," Amandine finally conceded. "Can I at least provide you with anything for the journey?"
"Just a horse, clean clothes and some travel supplies will suffice," Adam responded. "I'll figure everything else out as I go." Looking to Belle, he added, "Mademoiselle Gagnier also has reason to believe that her father is staying with a group of rebels in a town called Corneille. She'd appreciate some means of getting there, if possible."
"Of course," Amandine agreed. "I'll speak with my coachman as soon as the party's over tonight."
"Thank you, Your Highness," Belle said with a gracious curtsy. She turned to Adam and smiled at him in equal appreciation.
Adam stayed for one more dance number before telling Vincent and Amandine that he intended to turn in early for the night. Belle decided to do the same, so they both ended up walking side-by-side through the atrium to get back to their rooms.
"So, did you get all your excitement in for today?" Adam ventured to ask her as they climbed the stairs to the castle's upper floors.
"Not really," she admitted. "I mean, I'm glad that the King's gone, but I'm still trying to process the story you told me back on the terrace."
He feigned a gasp. "You mean, I haven't convinced you that I'm a complete lunatic yet?"
"Maybe." She looked down at the stairs. "Maybe not. I just want to understand one thing."
"Yes?"
"What was the nature of our relationship... when I lived with you?"
"We were acquaintances, of course," he lied. "We barely spoke to each other at all."
"We were acquaintances, but I told you about my mother?" She creased her brow skeptically. "I mean, I'm sure you took a lucky guess with those other facts, but that—that's... pretty personal."
"Fine." He sighed. "Maybe we did talk a few times... but it wasn't like we ever had a heart-to-heart conversation. It was more like a one-sided ramble. You'd turn up from nowhere spouting all sorts of mumbo-jumbo about your life. It was all 'my village is terrible this, love is winged Cupid painted blind that, oh and did you know that Guinevere and Lancelot is actually a romance?' It was a bit annoying, really."
Belle widened her eyes intriguingly. "I said all that?"
"More or less." He grunted. "I suppose you thought there wasn't much harm in blabbering your thoughts out to someone who looked like your pet dog. I mean, who else would I tell, apart from the mantle clock or the china set?"
She snickered. "Was that a joke? Are you making jokes now?"
"Um, no?" He stopped mid-step, confused by her odd enthusiasm and struck with a strange feeling of déjà vu. "Anyway, I honestly don't care if you believe me or not. Quite frankly, I have no interest in wasting my time convincing you of matters that aren't your concern. I have to leave this region tomorrow before Gaston finds me. In the meantime, enjoy your comfortable carriage ride to Corneille and rejoice in the fact that our fellowship is finally over."
He turned around and bounded up the stairs two steps at a time, leaving Belle to manage the rest of the walk on her own.
That was the best way to end it, he told himself before he went to sleep that night. To Belle, Count Adam was a loony outcast, trying to blame a big time travelling conspiracy for his brother's rise to power. Years of abuse and isolation had driven him to a point where he was more fit for a madhouse than a throne. Once he and Belle went their separate ways, he would become nothing more than a strange story to share with her future children. Beast or man, he would always mean very little to her. There was no sense in changing that fact now. In fact, he took comfort in knowing that it was exactly what he needed to keep her away from him.
He got up around seven o'clock the next morning. Martin had laid out a set of plain travelling clothes on the chair next to his bed. Their simple fabrics were more suitable for a commoner than a nobleman, which made them a fitting disguise. He changed into the clothes, took breakfast alone in Amandine's dining room and made his way to the stables with his new satchel in hand.
"Adam!" someone called to him as he waited for the stable boys to prepare his horse. He turned to see Belle running towards him, dressed in a new blue pinafore dress and a dark grey cloak.
"Belle?" He blinked at her in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
She said nothing, merely motioned to an empty stall, away from the servants' prying eyes and ears. Adam looked at her dubiously before following her into the smelly space. He was standing uncomfortably close to her now, and tried to focus only on her words as she said, "Will you promise me, that when you use the Nexus Tree to restore your timeline, Gaston will no longer be king?"
"He won't," he promised. "Of course, he'll still be an insufferable narcissist who thinks that the world revolves around himself, but his ego will never extend past your little village. I guarantee it."
Belle nodded. "Then," she declared, "I'm coming with you."
"What?!" He gaped at her in shock. "No. Absolutely not."
"Listen to me," she said firmly. "I've thought about it all night, and this is the better option for both of us. First of all, what are you thinking, travelling to Brittany all by yourself? Even if this tree is a myth, you're still our best hope of bringing order back to the kingdom. It's like you're the only piece on the chessboard that can call 'check' on Gaston's king. But if he finds you, we'll lose all our chances of getting him off the throne. You need someone to protect you."
"Hmph." Adam crossed his arms. "And I suppose you think that you're the one to do it?"
"Better me than your cousin," she pointed out. "Both of you are family, so it would be much easier for King Gaston to find the right pressure points if he discovered that you were working together. But we have no relationship, aside from our desire to see His Majesty removed from power. He wouldn't know how to react at all if he heard that we were conspiring together."
Well, that's not exactly true, Adam thought. Gaston will have found a huge pressure point if he discovers my true feelings for you.
He dismissed the idea. There were other ways of discouraging Belle from coming along with him; ways that didn't involve pouring his heart out to her like some lovesick fool. "But what about your father?" he questioned. "He'll be worried sick."
"Yes," she agreed, biting her lip hesitantly, "but he'll also be safe. If Gaston tracks me to Corneille, he may not only capture us but the rest of the rebels at the safehouse, too. They'll be trampled before they have enough numbers to fight back. I love my father more than anything, but I could never forgive myself if I destroyed our second-best chance of stopping the King. That's why it's best if I stay away from Corneille for a little while. Just until the danger has passed."
"You don't even know if Gaston will find you," Adam pointed out. "The resistance has likely prepared themselves for such an attack anyway. It would be a perfect opportunity for them to get off their backsides and show the King what they're made of. Anyhow, my answer is still no. If Agathon's right, the forest where this tree lives is like nothing any man has seen before. It's far too dangerous for an antisocial bibliophile like yourself."
"But that's exactly why I want to come," Belle persisted, interestingly taking no offence. "I'm tired of sitting at home all day reading books and dreaming about far-off places. I want to go on an adventure of my own! Look, I know I haven't been the most agreeable person to be around, and I'm sorry. And I also know that you're uncomfortable with me because of our supposed history. But Adam, at some point, you've got to move on! Your life with me as a beast is in the past. This is now, and what matters is that we get you wherever you need to be to stop the King. Just accept that you need my help so we can get this over and done with."
Adam stared at Belle, slack jawed. He should have been firing another rebuttal at her. But all he could think about was how attractive she was when she had her mind set on something she cared so much about.
"Cousin?" Vincent said, startling Adam from his thoughts as he abruptly poked his head into the stall. "I just wanted to—Oh, I'm sorry! Am I interrupting something?"
"No, Vincent," Adam replied, turning away from Belle in embarrassment. "What is it?"
"I came to bid you farewell before your journey," he explained. "And give you this." He held out a rapier encased in a black sheath. "It's mine, but something tells me you'll need it more than me. Seeing as you didn't come here with your own weapon."
"Oh." Adam stared at the gift in surprise. "Well, thank you, coz. That's very generous of you."
As he stepped forward to accept the sword, Vincent startled him by wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. "Write to me, whenever you get the chance," he whispered in his ear. "Maybe once all this drama with your brother has died down, we can finally have a long-awaited family reunion. You could bring Mademoiselle Gagnier along with you, too."
"All right," Adam agreed reluctantly. If only he could keep that promise. It suddenly occurred to him that Vincent would have no memory of him once he returned to his original universe. It was a bittersweet realization, as his cousin was one of the few people from Adam's old life that he wouldn't mind seeing again.
Vincent pulled away from Adam and turned his attention over to Belle. "Mademoiselle Gagnier, good to see you again!" he said with a grin. He cocked his head as he regarded her in her simple travelling clothes. "I thought you weren't leaving for Corneille until this afternoon?"
"Oh. Well, I—"
"Actually, Vincent," Adam cut in, "she's coming with me."
"Really?" He turned back to his cousin; brows raised in interest.
"Yes. Well, she's made a very compelling argument," he elucidated. "If I am to arrive safely in Brittany, I'll need at least one person to accompany me. Ideally, someone inconspicuous who won't draw unnecessary attention because of their high status and is familiar enough with the area to guide me around safely. It so happens that Mademoiselle Gagnier is an exceptional map reader and is quite familiar with the French countryside from the number of times she's moved from place to place with her father. Not only that but if there's any information she picks up about Gaston's forces along the way, she can share it with the resistance once she gets to Corneille. It's a brilliant solution, really."
"A captain and his quartermistress, about to set sail for the high seas," Vincent said intriguingly. "Well I can't say that that's how I expected you two to end up together, but it's a start."
"Wait," Belle interjected, "what?"
"He's joking. It's a joke!" Adam chirped. "Anyway, Vincent, I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around mentioning us to your inner circles. You never know how much of it will go back to Gaston."
"You have my word," the Marquis promised. "If the subject comes up, I'll make up something crazy. I'll say I heard you eloped with a mystery girl and left the country. That'll keep them talking."
Adam snorted. He'd prefer it if his cousin laid off on the eloping bit. But any story to get Gaston and his supporters off his back was better than nothing. "Goodbye, Vincent," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And all the best with Princess Amandine. You two seem very… good together."
"Thank you, coz." Vincent smiled. "I wish you all the best with your mission as well."
Once his cousin had left the stables, Adam turned his attention back to Belle. She was beaming ecstatically, as though he'd told her that he'd gifted her a second library. "Did you really mean that? I can come with you?"
"Yes, you can come," he said reluctantly. "But I'm warning you. This won't be some fun midsummer day picnic. You stay with me, and you can consider yourself a wanted fugitive. Gaston may want you dead just as badly as he wants me. But since you're so insistent—"
"You can count me in," Belle declared.
She walked out of the stall with a purposeful spring in her step. Adam couldn't help but smile at her in spite of himself. Although he still had reservations about bringing her along with him, it did feel good to have her on the same side again. And maybe Agathon was right. Maybe she would be of good use to him.
Belle and Adam spent the next several hours on the road, stopping only to stretch their legs and water their horses before resuming their journey. It wasn't until the sun went down that they agreed to make camp for the night. In a small clearing a few miles off the trail, they settled their horses and gathered some wood from the surrounding forest to make a fire.
Despite the extensive travelling they'd done that day, neither of them felt particularly sleepy. They'd run into very few people en route and had seen no trace of Gaston or his men anywhere. It was almost too easy to Adam—a fact he found more unsettling than reassuring. Agathon hadn't contacted him by the mirror again either, which only added to his concern. He hoped for his sake that nothing bad had happened to him.
After they finished eating, Belle and Adam sat around the fire and began to talk. First, it was idle chatter, then talk about Belle's inventions back in Villeneuve, then theories about future modes of transportation and which ones would be most likely to replace horse-drawn carriages in the next century.
"That's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard of!" Adam declared, midway through a discussion about the practicability of flying machines. "Who'd ever think of building a contraption to fly to other places around the world?"
"You'd be surprised." Belle smirked. "I once heard of a physics professor who'd been commissioned to build a balloon that could carry three farm animals across a courtyard in the Palace of Versailles. If his experiment is a success, think of how easy it could be to do the same thing with humans! We could fly across France in less than a day, and across Europe in less than a week. Maybe we could even fly to the moon."
"The moon?" Adam stared at her, unsure if she was pulling his leg. "What reason would we have to go to the moon?"
"Why to see what's on it, of course!" She laughed. "According to a novel I read by Cyrano de Bergerac, the moon's inhabitants are four-legged creatures with musical voices and highly advanced pieces of hunting technology. Think of how fascinating it would be to meet such creatures face-to-face."
"Or how dangerous," Adam countered. "I don't know, Belle. I'd rather keep my feet on the ground than use a flying machine to travel to my next royal function. I wouldn't mind sending Gaston to the moon though." He grinned mischievously. "Perhaps these supposed moon people are of the human-eating variety."
"Oh no," Belle scolded, "don't even joke about that! For all we know, they might think that Gaston's a god and make him their idol. Then he could take over the whole moon and declare war on us poor earthlings."
"'Gaston the Moon War Chief?'" Adam put a hand to his forehead. "Good Lord."
Belle laughed again and it was like music to his ears. It felt so good to talk to her like this; all formalities and prejudices aside, like they were friends instead of enemies. He'd missed these conversations with her more than he wanted to admit.
Which is why it was only fitting that her next comment would instantly spoil the mood.
"I'm finding it so hard to picture," she said, putting her hands under her chin pensively. "You as a beast."
Adam's smile faded. Joking about Gaston and moon people was one thing. But sharing intimate details about his beastly past was quite another. He looked at the fire and muttered, "Yes. Well, it definitely wasn't my best look. After all, I was hideous."
"I know… but what kind of beast were you exactly?" she questioned. "I mean the word 'beast' can mean so many different things. Were you a bear? A wolf? A wild boar? Did you have a tail or antlers?"
"What do you think?!" he snapped. He turned to her with his teeth bared, causing her to recoil from him in fright. He realized his mistake a second later. His temper cooled and he took a few deep breaths through his nose before speaking again. "I'm sorry. It's just that... this is a difficult subject for me to talk about. All I can say is that the moment the witch cursed me, I wanted nothing more than to go back in time and accept her gift. You can't possibly know how horrible it is to be trapped in a body that's no longer yours. No matter where you go, or what you say and do, people will only see you as a monster. There's no deeper pain than that. Except perhaps"—he glanced over at her instinctively—"losing someone you love."
Her eyes remained fixed on him as his words dawned on her. He could see she hadn't truly taken his curse seriously, which he could hardly blame her for. In a way, he should have expected it.
Brows knitted with concern, Belle mumbled, "I'm... sorry too. I didn't mean to pry into your past like that. I guess I'm still trying to make sense of your situation. I mean, it's not every day you meet an aristocrat who claims he used to be a beast. It's sort of like being in a fairy tale, isn't it?"
"Yes," he replied bitterly. "The bad kind." He stared into the fire again. Talking about the curse had reminded him of something else: once he returned to his original timeline, he would be giving up his humanity again, forever.
"You must have been very lonely, confined to your castle for five whole years," Belle said, trying to resume their earlier conversation. "No friends. No family."
He shrugged. "It's not like I had much of those to begin with. All my so-called friends fled the castle the moment the witch cast her spell on me. And my father—may he burn in hell—showed his horse better affection than he ever showed me. When I really think about it, I've been on my own since the day my mother died when I was twelve."
"That must have been hard," Belle sympathized. "I'd give anything to remember even one thing about my mother. What was yours like?"
"She was kind, beautiful and happy," Adam recalled. A lot like you. "We used to do all sorts of things together: plant flowers, sing songs, visit the local villages. My father never paid me much attention as a child, but my mother—she would coddle me like there was no tomorrow. It made it even harder to say goodbye when she… when she..."
"Died?" Belle finished softly.
He nodded. "And I never got over it either. When I got older, I'd try to fill her absence by throwing expensive balls and parties every month, but it never worked out. It figures." He snorted. "You can't find happiness with others if you aren't happy with yourself first."
"Surely there must have been a time when you felt a bit of happiness," Belle reasoned. "Even a little?"
When I was with you, he wanted to say. But common sense held him back.
"During the curse, I would sometimes go to my library to read books," he said instead. "There were so many stories and worlds to explore there. They helped me forget what I was… if only briefly. I suppose that's why I lent them to you when you became my prisoner. I thought they'd be a better use of your time than to be stuck in the company of an ugly, despicable creature like myself."
Belle chuckled. "I'm sure you weren't that bad."
"Oh no, I was very much a brute," he objected. "You would bring it up constantly. In fact, on your first day in the castle, you told me you'd rather starve than eat dinner with me."
"Well, that might have been what I thought about you then," she acknowledged. "But that's not what I think of you now."
"Hmm?" He stared at her curiously. "And what do you think of me?"
"I think that you're a man with a troubled past who's made a lot of bad mistakes," she answered truthfully. "But you're also doing your best to fix them. That's not reprehensible. That's very honourable."
He looked at her in surprise. Next to the time she'd thanked him for saving her from the wolves, this was the closest to a compliment she'd ever given him. "I'm not sure I can believe that, for someone who's only known me for three days," he admitted. "But thank you."
"You're welcome," she replied.
Another moment of silence passed between them. Adam felt his cheeks start to burn as he stared at Belle and prayed that she didn't notice. She was just so... beautiful. The firelight cast a rosy glow around her face and made her dark eyes shimmer as brightly as the stars above them. He briefly imagined breaking the distance between them so he could feel the softness of her hair and the warmth of her lips against his. And what scared him more than thinking about it was realizing that he could. He was a human now, not a beast. No one was watching.
A loud "pop" from the campfire brought him back to his senses. There were barely any more flames rising out of the kindling; just smoke and a few glowing spots here and there.
"Well, would you look at that!" he exclaimed, getting to his feet sharply. "We're almost out of firewood. I'm... going to go get some more."
"Oh," Belle stared at him curiously. "I didn't even notice. Would you like me to come with you?"
"No no." He shook his head. "That's quite all right. It's better if you stay here and watch the horses. I won't be long."
He marched into the woods before she could say another word. Once there, he wandered through the trees for several minutes before stopping to catch his breath.
Get a hold of yourself, Adam, he told himself as he propped his hand against the trunk of a nearby beech tree. He'd already broken his rule about letting himself get involved with Belle and telling her about his past. He'd be damned if he let himself act on his feelings for her now. The only reason they were staying together was because of the mission. Belle was his helper. Their relationship was no different from that of Dante and Virgil, Christian and the Evangelist, Odysseus and Athena. The characters in those old stories never fell in love. Once their journeys were over, they continued to live their lives as though they'd never met each other at all. Adam's story with Belle would end the same way.
But why was it so hard to control himself around her? He rubbed his temples in frustration. They'd only been on the road for a day, and already he was dying to hold her, touch her and shower her with all the physical affection that had been off-limits to him as the Beast.
It's just a stupid feeling, he told himself firmly. Nothing more than an unpleasant side effect of being deprived of physical contact for the past five years. He would have to learn to keep the impulse to himself, for both their sakes.
Suddenly, he saw something stir in his peripheral vision and tensed. It could be Belle coming to check on him. Only their camp was on his right side, and he'd seen the movement coming from his left. Something wasn't right.
In a flash, he drew his cousin's rapier and spun around; coming face to face with a row of bayonets. The wielders were all wearing the same uniform as Gaston's men back at the Château de Vivecolline.
"Hello, My Lord," the marksman in the center sneered. "Looks like we finally found you."
Adam's mouth fell open in panic. Although his cousin's sword was flashy, it would be of no use to him in a gunfight. He dropped it and raised his hands in quiet surrender.