He was awoken to the sound of a harpsichord, playing a rising atonal scale. Following that, a group of violins entered with a frivolous, but unsettling melody in triple time. He knew that melody.

Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find himself reclining in his old throne at the back of the castle ballroom. He hadn't given much thought to where Agathe would drop him off when she granted his wish, but it certainly wasn't here. The space in front of him was filled with young women, all dressed in elegant white dresses, some of them with their hair piled as high as beehives. They all curtsied to him with phoney, adoring smiles on their faces.

The Prince sat up with a start. Now he knew he'd seen all this before. Cautiously, he stood up from his throne, then froze as he caught sight of his hands. They were still human hands—not a beast's, and they were decorated with opulent gold rings. He looked further down at himself and noticed that he was wearing the same velvet, diamond-studded suit he'd forced his servants to spend a whole week working on for his once "special ball." It had been torn to shreds after the curse, but now, it was perfectly intact again.

Stunned and confused, Adam looked back up at his guests. They began to dance around the ballroom, completely oblivious to their host's disoriented state. On the right side of the room, Maestro Cadenza was playing away on his harpsichord, while Madame de Garderobe stood in front of him, waiting for her cue. As the clarinets in the orchestra ended their rigid melody, she sang the lyrics the Prince once took great pride in composing, but now sounded horrifically self-indulgent:

"Oh, how divine
Glamour, music, and magic combine
See the maidens so anxious to shine
Look for a sign that enhances chances
She'll be his special one…"

Something was wrong. The Prince glanced around the room again, very aware of how bright everything was, and how unnaturally pristine everybody looked. He knew what was supposed to happen here tonight. The Enchantress would come to test him. She'd offer him a single rose in exchange for shelter from the bitter storm. His beastly curse would be doomed to repeat itself.

Dozens of questions raced through his mind. Had Agathe lied to him? Had she decided not to reward him, but punish him by trapping him in a reality where he'd have to relive the night of his curse, over and over again?

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. He looked past the throne, to the glass doors that led out to the gardens and waited. Any second now, the Enchantress would arrive in her haggard disguise, casting the room into darkness and silence once again.

The music modulated, grew more bombastic and accelerated in tandem with Adam's racing heartbeat. Outside the castle, a vicious thunderstorm raged across the grounds. Madame de Garderobe sang a piercing high F-sharp that sailed over the orchestra and reverberated across the ballroom…

But the doors remained shut. Not a soul passed through. The musicians played on, the guests continued their dance, unabated.

"Master?"

Adam turned around and came face-to-face with his majordomo. For a second, Cogsworth flinched, as though afraid his master would reprimand him for interrupting him. But the Prince only stared at him blankly, unsure if he was real, or another part of this odd dream he'd stumbled into.

"Erm, Master… are you well?" Cogsworth continued, lowering his arms uneasily. "You look… unsettled about something."

"Cogsworth," said Adam, "what day is it?"

The majordomo narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Why, it's the sixth of June, sire."

"And... the year?"

Cogsworth told him, and Adam stepped backwards in shock. Five years. He'd gone back in time by five years, to the exact moment he'd become a beast. Only he wasn't a time-travelling spectator this time, but back inside the body of his twenty-year-old self.

A dizzying sensation took hold of him as he absorbed this new information. He had to grab on to the side of his throne to steady himself. The curse, Belle, Agathe, Agathon, it couldn't have all been a dream, could it? It had all felt so real...

"Sire, are you sure you're alright?" Cogsworth repeated in concern. "Perhaps you ought to sit down for a bit."

"I'm fine," Adam insisted. "I just… need to check on something. Keep an eye on my guests for me, would you?"

"Certainly. But—Master, wait! Where are you going?"

Adam didn't respond. He was already running across the dance floor and haphazardly maneuvering around his guests, who jumped away from him with startled shrieks and shouts of surprise. There was only one place he could think of that could carry the answers he was looking for: the library. He needed to get there with all possible haste.

Several minutes later, Adam burst through the library doors. By now, he was sweating up a storm, and his wig was itching terribly against his scalp. He ripped it off his head and threw it down on the closest armchair, along with his superfluous-looking jacket. It was all as valuable to him as fool's gold at this point.

His feet made a beeline towards the writing desk next to the fireplace. To his dismay, the cabinet doors under the desk were locked. Where's the key? he panicked. Where's the damn key? It was a regrettable truth—he'd had no interest in maintaining his library before the curse. Only his servants would know where the keys to his mother's old desk were. And they were all still downstairs, too busy entertaining his guests to assist him.

Fortunately, the Prince didn't have to look much further to find what he was searching for. As he turned around again, he spotted his old magic book laid out on a nearby table, like it had been waiting there for him all along. He approached it warily, afraid that it might burn to a crisp again. When it didn't, he opened it up to the first page. Someone had left a note for him there in dark golden ink:

My Dear Prince,

I imagine you have a lot of questions right now, so I'll do my best to fill you in on what's happened and explain my reasons for bringing you back here.

As you can clearly see, you are NOT a beast. You must forgive me for not fulfilling this part of our agreement. I'm afraid I have no excuse, apart from admitting that I've grown quite fond of you, after playing the role of your "secret guardian" for the past twenty-five years.

I know your life has not been an easy one. Born to a long line of kings that valued materialism over benevolence, I could see that you were doomed to follow the same path as your father and grandfather unless I intervened. There were two reasons why I singled you out in particular: you had a desire to be loved and accepted, a desire that only strengthened in the years after your mother's death. It wasn't much, but it gave me enough to hope that I could redeem you and turn you away from your dark and tragic fate.

After seeing you successfully face my trials as a beast, I can say with confidence that you are no longer the heartless man you once were. And so, I cannot let you spend the rest of your life trapped inside a body meant for someone you no longer are.

But while I cannot find the will to redo your curse, I have agreed to grant you the rest of your wish. Your servants have no memory of the spell. Neither do Belle and Maurice. They currently live in a small village in Picardy and will not move to Villeneuve for another three years. The spell never happened and will never happen again.

I've brought you back five years in time because I believe it will be the easiest way for you to pick up from your old life. My visions of the future are sporadic at best, but I know for certain that you will not make the same mistakes you made before my first visit. There will be no wars in France—at least not in your lifetime. Therefore, I have returned your magic book to you, trusting that you will use it with discretion this time, and only when necessary.

Like I said to you back in the forest, it is unlikely that we will see each other again. After spending a long time in debate with my brother, I have reluctantly agreed to put my obsessive desire to "fix" humanity to rest. From this moment on, your fate is yours to control and yours alone.

I wish His Highness a long and happy life,

- A

Adam's vision blurred with tears as he reread the Enchantress's last words. He couldn't believe it. She had spared him. She'd given him another chance at redemption, with no threat of a curse looming over his head. He was free.

Frantically, he flipped through the rest of the book's pages until he found the magic map, which seemed to sparkle at him in warm invitation. He put his hand over the page, thinking of how easy it could be. With one little thought, he could transport himself to Belle's location, tell her what had happened and start all over again. He'd convinced her that he was a time traveller once—surely it wouldn't be that hard to convince her again? But then you'd be going against everything you'd wanted for from the start...

No. He shook his head resignedly. He would respect Belle's wishes this time. He wouldn't try to find her. She had dreams and adventures to pursue, and he had no right to interfere with that. If fate had only allowed them a short measure of time together, then so be it. He would hold on to her memory and give up his fight for a life that was never meant to be.

Decision made; Adam looked to the nearby window where he could see the reflection of his powdered-face self staring back at him. It was the face of a man who was at the height of his arrogance, loathed by his subjects, without a friend or loved one in the world. Only now, he saw something there that wasn't there before: the potential to be so much greater than who he was.

He remembered all the things that Belle, his mother, his servants, Agathon and now Agathe had seen in him. He heard himself as the Beast advising his former self: "Spend the people's taxes on the poor, not on these frivolous parties. Treat your servants with better respect. And in time, you may finally find the happiness you desperately crave."

There was still time to become all the things they said he could be. There was still time to fix this kingdom. There was still time to make things right again. Only this time, he didn't need Belle or the magic book to help.

With bold determination, Adam lit a fire in the fireplace, picked up the Enchantress's gift and tossed it into the flames. The pages curled and blackened as the book turned to ash; taking all traces of the past along with it.

Of course, he'd still have to go back downstairs and make an excuse for his sudden departure. He dreaded the thought of playing host to such a disgustingly hedonistic party again, but at least it was only for one more night. Maybe he'd even surprise his servants and ask them to join in on the dancing. They deserved a break, after all the work they'd put into making tonight as flawless as possible. Then, when the party was over and all the guests had gone home, Adam would go to bed alone and sober, for the first time since he'd started hosting these pointless parties at age eighteen.

Tonight, the Prince had had his epiphany. Tomorrow, the real change would begin.