Adam didn't talk to Belle at all for the next few days. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing more to discuss. Any further attempt at conversation would gravitate towards the uncomfortable fact that he loved her. Any efforts to continue their relationship would be pointless and dishonest of one another. He didn't want to live with that discomfort, and he was sure she didn't either.

A few times a day, she'd come into the tower like she wanted to speak with him, and he'd close his eyes and pretend to be asleep. After a while, she took the hint and stopped coming to see him.

He spent most of his days in bed, focusing on letting his wound heal so he could continue his journey. He was no stranger to solitude, but after a while, the long hours started to bore even him. So, to pass the time, he tried to teach himself how to carve wood using a knife and some tree branches Agathon had left for him in the tower. He made some deep slashes into a branch, one for every bad memory in his life. There was one cut for his mother's death, one for every time he remembered his father abusing him, one for the day the Enchantress had cursed him, and one for the day he'd let Belle go. By the time he was finished, he'd reduced his branch to a knobbly stub, with broken bits of wood scattered all over the floor. It made him feel guilty, wasting a good piece of wood to such a meaningless task. So, he picked up another one and practised carving basic shapes into it, like letters and symbols. He wouldn't call it art exactly, but it was a relaxing way to pass the time and to distract himself from more pressing issues.

As Agathon needed to use the mirror to help him navigate the forest in the daytime, Adam could only look through it when he returned to the campsite at night. He still couldn't see where Gaston or Médée were, but he could see his servants. True to the Enchanter's word, they'd all made it to Corneille safely. Lumière and Cogsworth had already teamed up with the other resistance leaders and frequently bickered over the best ways to infiltrate the camps the King had set up around the village. Adam didn't see much of Maurice in these conversations, but when he did make an appearance, he seemed to be in considerably better spirits than the first night he and Belle had checked in on him. The servants had likely passed on word from Agathon that his daughter was safe, which was part of the reason.

The only time Adam saw Belle was when he left the tower to get some fresh air. She often lingered around the campsite, scribbling things into her sketchbook, mending her clothes or tending to the horses beside the watchtower. Occasionally, Adam swore he could see her watching him from the corner of his eye. But as soon as he turned to look at her, she'd turn away with a disconcerted look on her face. There might be something more there, but he tried not to overthink it. He was trying not to think too much about anything lately.

He often looked down at his hands, knowing that his days as a human were drawing to a close. When he went back to his original timeline and embraced eternity as a beast, the wolves and forest would be all he'd know. Maybe Agathe would be merciful and relieve him of his sentience like she would for his servants. Maybe he'd wake up one day with no memory of who he was.

On their third day in Brocéliande, Agathon inspected Adam's injury again and deemed that he'd recovered well enough for them to proceed to the Nexus Tree. He showed Belle and Adam a map he'd drawn of the forest, along with potential paths they could take to reach the tree's location. The quickest one was covered by an enchanted mist that could render unsuspecting travellers into states of confusion and forgetfulness. But for a few hours every morning, the mist would dissipate, leaving a clear path into the heart of the forest. If the three of them took that path at the right time, they could save hours on their journey.

Adam agreed that this was the best course of action. Although they were at no real risk of running into Gaston's forces in these woods, he wasn't leaving anything to chance. The sooner he returned to his original timeline, the better.

The night before they set out on their journey, Adam was awoken to the sound of an owl hooting loudly from atop the watchtower. He shooed it away and tried to get back to sleep, but this proved impossible. Once his head hit the pillow, his mind began to race with disturbing thoughts of what would happen to him when he returned to his old timeline. Suddenly, sleep for him was out of the question. He got to his feet and wandered out of the tower.

The campfire was still glowing, but barely. Across from the flames, Agathon lay nestled in a grey flannel blanket, sound asleep. Belle slept on the opposite side of the camp, curled up in a cat-like position on the grass. Unlike Agathon, she did not have a blanket on her. Her open sketchbook lay a few inches away from her face, leaving Adam to assume she'd been flipping through it before she'd dozed off.

He tiptoed closer to her, compelled by a deep sense of curiosity. Why had Belle been so quick to snatch the sketchbook from him when he'd found it a few days earlier? Was there something in there that she didn't want him to see? Something personal?

He bent down to reach for it, then stopped himself. He knew he'd been furious when Belle had entered the West Wing without his permission. So it stood to reason that she'd feel the same way if she caught him looking through her forbidden book. But are you really invading her privacy if the book's already open? He studied her serene-looking face again, and once he deduced that she really was asleep, picked up the book and held it up to the dying flames.

The sketchbook was full of drawings, all of objects Belle had likely encountered on the way to Brocéliande. She wasn't a professional artist by any means, but she had a good eye for detail. The first page contained images of leaves and plants. Other pages contained half-finished landscapes of the forest, possibly drawn whenever they'd stopped to make camp. Some sketches were of animals, like horses, birds and squirrels.

There was a drawing of Agathon on one page, tending to the campfire. And on the next page was…

Adam nearly dropped the book into the flames in shock. Judging by the changing thickness of the pencil lines, Belle had returned to this part of her book multiple times. Her proportions weren't accurate—Adam could see many places where she'd smudged or scratched out a sketch that was too difficult for her to finish. Still, it was painfully obvious that the subject of all these drawings was him. She'd dedicated a whole page to capturing Adam in various positions of unconsciousness. His face burned hot at the realization. It was no wonder she hadn't wanted him to open her sketchbook earlier.

On the corner of the page, Belle had recorded a note in slender cursive handwriting. Adam tilted his head and read:

We are worlds apart from one another. And yet, now that I've heard the whole story, I can feel his sadness cutting into me like it's my own. I wish I could do something to help him, but what? He's not letting me in anymore—not that he was very open with me to begin with.

I know what Papa would say if he was here. He'd tell me to move on. There's no sense in offering help to someone who doesn't want it. But I can't seem to stay away, even if it would be better to let him be. Nobody should be left alone, no matter how much they think they deserve it.

A fluttering sensation filled Adam's stomach as he took in the meaning of Belle's words. He never thought he could be anything more to her than a bad memory. But he'd obviously inspired her enough to draw several pictures of him. And… to write about him. He lowered his shoulders in shame. Maybe Belle's feelings for him ran deeper than he realized. Maybe he shouldn't have treated her so coldly.

But it's not like you can do anything about it now, he reminded himself. After tomorrow, none of this will matter anymore.

He closed the sketchbook and set it beside Belle's other belongings. Her blanket was folded neatly on top of her rucksack. Shaking it open, he draped it over her and gave her a final wistful glance before returning to bed.

They left an hour after sunrise, taking only what was necessary for the journey up to the tree. Before re-entering the woods, Adam looked up at Sir Esclados's abandoned watchtower one last time. The ruin had been a far cry from his old castle, and yet it had become something of a haven to him in the past few days—a limbo between his present and his impending future. Now that that part of the adventure was over, he could only depend on his wits to keep him moving forward.

The Forest of Brocéliande was like no forest he'd ever seen before. Trees of all shapes and sizes stretched endlessly past the horizon, casting their surroundings in hazy shades of green and yellow. Occasionally, the party would come across the remnants of an ancient fortress, which according to Agathon, may have belonged to an enchanter whose name had long since fallen into obscurity. It was a mythical place, full of intrigue and mystery. Yet, for all its magnificence, Adam found it to be surprisingly underwhelming when compared to what he'd read about in his old King Arthur books. Those stories always described Brocéliande as a place teeming with the supernatural; fairies, mages and mythical beasts hiding around every corner. But this forest was empty. There were no traces of life around them, apart from the horses and the trees.

"Oh, they're still here all right," Agathon said, when Adam inquired about the absence of these so-called "magical beings." "Not that we're very likely to run into them while we're here."

"Why not?" Belle asked curiously.

"This forest has seen many wars, even before Merlin's time. Back in those days, men of power would do almost anything to seize control of these lands and the magical treasures they carried. You'd be scared to show yourself too, if you still remembered how destructive mankind's forces could be."

A shudder ran down Adam's spine at Agathon's explanation. It was a pity, really. He wouldn't have been opposed to meeting some of these legendary creatures, if only to quell his curiosity about their existence. But perhaps it was better that they remained hidden from him. He'd already faced enough skirmishes with magic and the supernatural for one lifetime, after all.

By noon, the trio had reached the midway point to the Nexus Tree, just in time to evade the magical fog that had started to fill the pathway behind them. At the pace they were going at, they could be at their destination within a few hours. It was the perfect time to break for lunch.

Whether it was from the sweltering heat or a lack of sleep the night before, Adam already felt as tired as an old man. He dismounted his horse and found a shady oak tree to sit under as he waited for Belle and Agathon to unpack.

Shortly after he'd settled himself, he heard incoming footsteps and looked up to see Belle standing over him. "Here," she said, extending a leather canteen to him. "Have some water."

He tilted his head at her in confusion. "What about you?"

"I have my own." She showed him a second one she'd tucked into one of her dress pockets.

Considering this, Adam accepted the first canteen and pressed it to his lips. As he drank, Belle sat down next to him and reclined against the tree with a sigh. "So, I guess this is it for you. You'll find the Nexus Tree, go back in time… back to being a beast forever?"

He glanced over at her, surprised that she was still talking to him after three days of silence. The logical response would be to keep on ignoring her… only he now felt awfully childish in doing so. Especially when this might be one of the last conversations he'd have with her in this lifetime. "It's the right thing to do," he said resignedly. "I'm tired of running away from my mistakes. If I have to spend eternity as a monster to stop Gaston and Médée from destroying the country, then so be it."

"Still, it's not really fair, is it?" she pointed out. "You give up your freedom to save your kingdom. In the meantime, the world keeps on turning. No one gives you a second glance. No one even knows that you exist."

"Every prince has to make sacrifices, no matter how unnoticed they may go by his subjects. I'm sure that's what Agathe meant to teach me all along. If being a beast again means saving thousands of innocent lives from corrupt leaders like Gaston and preventing a national war from breaking out, then so be it. I'd rather be the one to prevent a battle than to start one."

"But at what cost?" she countered. "You're a person, Adam. Not a pawn to be moved around on some enchantress's fancy. You deserve to enjoy life as much as anyone." She sniffled. "Maybe things won't be as bad as you think. Maybe Agathe will reconsider her punishment when she sees how much you've changed. Maybe she'll see you… the same way I do."

Her words filled Adam's stomach with butterflies. But when he looked back at her, her gaze was fixed on the horizon, lost in thoughts he could only begin to comprehend. Her chocolate-brown eyes glistened with tears. "Adam… you probably don't remember this," she said softly. "But when you were still recovering from your fever, you talked to me a few times. Only you weren't entirely yourself then."

"What did I say?"

"At one point you thought that you were still a beast, and I was my… other self. You were so stunned and confused. You couldn't understand why I'd come back for you. You kept saying that it was wrong for me to be here, that I should be with my father, and you didn't deserve me." Her voice cracked. "I could see in your eyes, how much you loved me—her. And I want you to know that… I don't think I could have left you alone in that castle that night if I'd known that's how much I meant to you."

The tears were trickling freely from her face now. It tore Adam up to see her that way. He wanted nothing more than to hold her against him and wipe every tear away from her beautiful face. But even as a man, he lacked the confidence to do so. So instead, he placed his hand on top of hers in a small gesture of comfort. It seemed to be enough, for she looked up and turned to him.

"Even if you'd known the truth about my feelings then, I would have still sent you back," he said gently. "It was the right thing to do. If you stayed with me, you'd always be worrying about your father and wishing for a better life. At least out there, you'd be free. You could have everything you'd always wanted."

He'd meant for these words to console her, but they only made her more upset. She scowled and furrowed her brows at him, as though he'd uttered something deeply offensive. "How do you know I'd have everything?"

Her fingers entwined tightly with his, her dark glossy eyes never leaving his own.

Then, she slowly leaned her face towards his.

Adam inhaled sharply, feeling like he was on the edge of a deep precipice, unsure of what would happen if he jumped off the edge. How many times had he dreamt this moment, when Belle would show even the smallest sign that she returned his affections? Yet for all his wishing and pining, he could only sit there petrified, unsure if this was real or just another dream.

Her lips were upon his in an instant, flooding his body with warmth and adrenaline. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth, willing himself to kiss her back with equal passion and tenderness. It would be so easy to disappear like this; to silence his mind and let his body do the rest of the talking. But he couldn't. Because as enticing as it would be, a louder voice in his head was warning him that the risks were too great. If he stayed on his present course, then he'd never want to leave her. And if he never left her, then he'd be going against everything he'd promised to undo in the first place.

No. He drew away from her sharply. "I can't do this."

She pulled away from him with a hurt and puzzled expression. "Why not?"

"Belle"—he bowed his head remorsefully—"I will always love you. No power on earth will ever change that. But let's be realistic here. You're an inventor with a bright and promising future ahead of you. I'm a prince who met the wrong end of a magic spell and needs to get back to my own timeline. There's no way our relationship can progress like this. It wouldn't be fair to you or me."

Belle blinked rapidly, unable to comprehend his words. "I don't believe that," she said firmly. "Not for one second. If two people love each other, then they'll always find a way to work things out." She pressed her lips together, thinking. "What if I went back with you, to your first timeline? I could return to the castle to break your spell, and we could be together again. Just because you have to leave this reality doesn't mean we have to end our relationship."

Adam's mouth began to quiver, deeply moved by the thought that Belle would do such a thing for him. But then, the doubts crept in. Just because she loved him now didn't mean that it would last. She might eventually tire of him, leaving her with even more regrets than she'd had at the start of their relationship. After all the misery he'd put her through, he couldn't bear to deprive her of her happiness again. Not if he had the power to stop it from happening in the first place.

"It's not that simple," he said dismissively. "I've already risked enough, going back in time to change my past. I have no idea what could happen if I brought another person along with me. If someone saw you, or if you did something as small as knocking over a paperweight in my father's bureau, we could make the present even worse than it already is. I can't take that risk, no matter how much I care about you."

"Then don't go back," she persisted. "Forget about the tree. We could find another way to defeat Gaston and Médée, and you could reclaim the throne—"

"What and break my promise to Agathon?" he interjected. "May I remind you that he's the whole reason I've come as far as I have? It's bad enough that I murdered his sister, who was only trying to do some good in the world. If I broke my word to him now, the guilt of my past mistakes would weigh on me forever. This is the only way I can make things right."

A frustrated sigh escaped from Belle's lips. She didn't want to give in, but he could already tell that she was running out of ways to reason with him. "I just… don't think we should give up on our chances for love because the odds aren't in our favour," she admitted. "If two people are meant to be together, then their love will always prevail."

He stared at her questioningly. "How do you know that we're meant to be together?"

"You're saying we aren't?" Her voice was startled, confused.

"I'm saying that you still have a choice. Belle… you may think you feel something for me now, but that could change years from now, when you're stuck mingling with stuffy aristocrats all day, wearing stays, trapped in the very life you swore to stay away from. There'd be no adventure for us… only dull routines and mundane protocols. For all I know, I could be standing in the way of finding the man who's truly right for you." He stared at her fixedly. "Can you honestly say that you'd give up all your dreams, just to be with me? Or that you'd be willing to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Of course I would," she replied without missing a beat. "Do you really think my feelings are so fickle? I've never felt this way about anyone. So why shouldn't I fight for it?"

Adam shook his head. Belle was so incredibly stubborn. He was half-certain that he'd kiss her again if he wasn't trying to prove a point. "Look, this isn't the only path for you," he asserted. "You have so much freedom, so many opportunities available to you if you'd only look around and see them! Maybe this feels like the right answer today, but what if you find something better tomorrow? Don't put all your eggs in my basket, because I can't do the same for you. Not anymore."

"Don't you dare tell me what I should and shouldn't do," Belle snapped, pointing a finger at him. "Do you not believe me when I say I love you? Do you not trust me when I say I know the risks and I'm willing to make those sacrifices?"

She glared at him sharply, daring him to challenge her thoughts. But he answered with only silence. After all, what more could he say to convince her? He'd taken his side, and she'd taken hers. She doesn't understand. There was no sense in attaching himself to her if time would soon tear them apart again. No sense in making promises to her that he couldn't keep. But his rapidly beating heart could only think of capturing her lips one more time.

Taking his silence as confirmation of his decision, Belle rolled her eyes and got to her feet. "Fine. Believe whatever you want to believe, Adam. We're two different people who were forced to come together through one woman's spell. Our relationship is based purely on a fantasy. It shouldn't even exist." She waited for him to respond, but he turned away and crossed his arms, ignoring her. With a loud huff, she continued, "I'm going to help Agathon make lunch. Come join us… when you've come to your senses."

She walked back the way she came, hands clenched at her sides. Once she was gone, Adam slammed his fists into the tree in a fit of rage.

Goddammit! He'd done a lot of terrible things before, but that had to be the lowest of them all.

It's not that I don't trust you, Belle. It's that I don't trust myself. He was afraid. Afraid of the uncertainty of their relationship, and if he really could be everything for her after all the years of pain and suffering he'd endured. In light of those sentiments, rejecting her seemed to be the better choice—the nobler choice.

But that didn't mean it was easy. His eyes brimmed with tears again as he thought about how he'd been moments away from showering her with all the affection he couldn't put into words. The sweetness of her lips still lingered on his—a haunting reminder of a relationship that could never be. It wasn't fair. Even in a reality where Belle somehow reciprocated his feelings, he couldn't encourage them. It would only make things even more unbearable when they'd have to part ways in the end. And indeed, the hardest part of this journey would be watching her leave him, one last time.