Babette sighed as she reached the end of the West Wing corridor, her duster under one arm and rags and polish under the other. Knocking on the nursery door gently, she waited for a reply, but received none. Opening the door a bit, she breathed with relief when she found no one inside. Belle must have been sitting with the baby elsewhere. Good, she could get the room cleaned in peace. The faster she could get her work done, the sooner she could get downstairs to the servants' quarters for some juicy, distracting gossip.
But as was her luck lately, no sooner had she started cleaning than Alexandre's piercing cry shattered the calm from the room next door. At a mere couple of months old, the new heir to the royal line undoubtedly rivaled his father in terms of loudness. Babette groaned with frustration, bidding any pleasant thoughts of relaxation farewell; she would never get her work done now.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, Belle opened the door and was startled a bit by Babette's unexpected presence in the room.
"My apologies, your highness," Babette said quickly. "I can always come back later."
Belle shook her head, rocking Alexandre tenderly in her arms before placing him in the bassinet. Once in the comfort of snuggly bedding, the baby's cries began to subside as he gradually fell asleep.
"I'm sorry if we disturbed your work," Belle said, sitting in a chair and keeping watch over her son.
"Not at all, your highness," Babette reassured. "You have but to say the word and I can leave."
Belle shook her head with a smile. "Babette, please, in private conversation, call me by name. I don't think I will ever get used to hearing 'your highness' constantly from everyone."
Babette giggled lightly. At least a year of living as royalty had not turned Belle into a stuck-up snoot, thank goodness. "As you wish, so long as Cogsworth knows nothing of it. If he finds out, God help me."
Belle laughed softly. "Just leave him to me," she said. "One of the first things you learn around here is how to handle Cogsworth."
"You could not be more right," Babette replied, before they slipped into silence again. Aside from the fact that Belle was still the princess and she a servant, Babette could not honestly say that she was close to the girl. Admired, oui, respected and owed much of her gratitude, without a doubt. If not for Belle, she would practically be dead. But close friendship was an overstatement.
On the other hand, Babette was never one to enjoy complete silence; it was too awkward and uncomfortable.
"Such a nice day for this time of year," she began, nodding towards the window. Not the deepest or most profound statement, but a beginning nonetheless.
"It certainly is; we were just outside," Belle replied in agreement. "Papa and I took Alexandre for a walk in the gardens."
Babette smiled at the thought. Maurice was such a kind man; there was not a soul in the castle who did not enjoy his company. He had come to live there after the wedding, at both Belle and Vincent's insistence. Even then, both father and daughter were very close, everyone knew, and their time together was very precious.
"It must be wonderful to have a father like that," she said. "He really loves you, and it shows."
Belle nodded. "When my mother died, we were all each other had." Her smile grew a little wistful, but still shone bright with adoration. "We both had our dreams, and not once did he stop me from following mine."
Babette offered a half-hearted smile, turning back to her dusting. "Sounds like heaven."
Belle looked at her curiously. "You don't…hear from your family often?" she asked, cautiously, trying not to offend.
"Both my parents are dead," Babette answered, focusing her gaze on the bureau drawer as her duster passed over it. "My mother died of pneumonia when I was twelve. My father…well, for all I know, he is dead as well. The last time I saw him was when I lost my mother. He never wanted to have anything to do with me."
Belle looked at her, appalled. "What do you mean? How could a man not want his own child?" she asked, horror in her tone.
Babette shrugged, laughing ruefully. "When your child was a careless mistake, it has to be pretty easy. But it does not matter. Even if I knew he was alive today, he is dead to me."
Belle immediately grew sympathetic. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, I understand."
Babette waved a hand dismissively. "How could you have known? I have been used to the idea since I was little; it is, how to say, water under the bridge."
"Is that when you came here?" Belle asked, shifting in her seat to listen.
Babette smiled, setting the duster down and pulling another chair close. Having a captive audience always pleased her. "Not exactly. To put it bluntly, he sent me to a…new family, and I grew up there. I was not born here in this glorious palace or anything dreamy like that."
"Oh, I see. Then how did you come here?" Belle asked with interest.
Babette bit her lip gently, realizing that she was getting herself too deep into a story that she did not want many people to know. "Through a friend," she said vaguely. "I was a little over seventeen, I guess, and…the better opportunity was here."
Sensing that this was all Babette was comfortable saying, Belle finished with one last question. "And despite…you know…has this been the 'better opportunity?'"
"Unquestionably so," Babette replied. "My life was never a glamorous one, but all things considered, it has been very good to me."
Belle smiled warmly. "I know exactly what you mean."
"You do?" Babette asked, raising an eyebrow a bit surprised. "Do not think me rude, but you have practically everything a girl could ever wish for. You have lived your own fairy tale."
"Not always, though," Belle said, shaking her head though her smile never faded. "Papa and I only moved to Molyneaux a few years before we found the castle. I was an outcast from the start."
"You? I do not believe it."
"Well, it's true; I didn't fit in," Belle explained. "I wasn't like them. I always loved to read, but everyone thought that I was strange because of it. I was even told, and I quote: 'It's not right for a woman to read. Soon she starts getting ideas and thinking!'"
Babette gaped, surprised. "Whoever in their ignorance came up with that idea, I would like to give them a piece of my mind!"
Belle had to laugh at her tone. "I pity him if he had ever met you."
"A man then? I should have known," Babette snorted.
"Yes, but it wasn't just him," Belle continued. "The whole town was so set in their ideas of how a woman was supposed to act. Any thoughts beyond marriage or raising a family were inappropriate and wrong. Every day when I walked through town, I heard them whispering behind my back about how odd and improper I was. I tried not to pay attention, but it didn't make it any easier to listen to."
Babette nodded, remembering vividly how the townspeople had looked down on her and the other showgirls at Le Fleur Noir. "I know that feeling all too well. They think they mean well, but it still hurts. But more than half the time, they just despise what is different altogether. The family I was sent to…well, they were not the most accepted people either. We heard gossip everywhere we went, as though we were condemned criminals."
"Really?" Belle asked, empathizing.
"Really," Babette replied, looking at the princess with new appreciation. Perhaps they had more in common than she had thought. "There was one woman in particular," she continued, much more comfortable than before. "A tailor's wife, who made and mended our dresses, but she never hid her distaste for us at all. Her husband was a bit kinder, but not even he stood up for us much when his wife made her comments."
Belle nodded. "Oh, those gossipy housewives! I know just what you mean." They smiled at each other.
At that moment, Alexandre started to stir and fuss, impatient for his mother's attention.
"It could be me, but I swear his naps are getting shorter," she sighed, holding him close once again, and cooing gently.
"Maybe it is a sign that I should be returning to work?" Babette laughed.
"No, no it's all right," Belle assured her.
Then, Alexandre turned his attention to the new face curiously, and Babette did not even try to resist a smile.
"It is true," she said. "He looks very much like the master himself did when he was born."
"So I've heard," Belle replied, motherly pride present. But growing conspiratorial, she asked, "Was Vincent as much of a handful even then? Tell me honestly."
Babette laughed gently. "Mon Dieu, more than you can imagine!" she said. "The first night I ever saw him…I believe it was a day or so after his father had died. I had gone to the West Wing to find Lumière, who had taken on the task on watching over the master for the evening. Not once could we have a moment to ourselves, between Lumière being so worried about him and then the master not going back to sleep. It was so frustrating! It was as though he was waiting for us to…occupy ourselves, and just for his own amusement, he chose that one moment to fuss. And it did not get better with age."
Belle shook her head as she joined in the laughing. "That's the world of parenthood for you. You could be doing anything at any time, but when the baby needs you, he comes first."
Babette looked at her curiously. "Is it always as bad as that?"
"I wouldn't call it bad," Belle replied. "It may take a bit of getting used to and it isn't easy sometimes, but it can be the best feeling in the world. There are some days when nothing can be going right, or that it's so quiet and lonely, especially when Vincent is away like he is now. But then I look at Alexandre, and I just feel so much better. Someone needs me this much, and loves me so unconditionally. It's a wonderful feeling."
Babette smirked. "That is one extremely optimistic way of looking at it."
Belle laughed gently. "Perhaps, but it is true."
"It does sound nice," Babette admitted, gazing at Alexandre wistfully. "I have…considered it at least once, but going by past history," she said, holding up her hand to show the ring, "I would much rather worry about this step first."
Belle smiled. "You have nothing to worry about, really. Lumière adores you."
Babette sighed. "I know. But no human male can ever go without hints to get a move on with marriage. You are the most fortunate woman alive not having to go through that."
"Believe me, you are the first thing he talks about when he has the chance," Belle offered reassuringly. "You always were, even under the spell. If he loves you as much as I know he does, he will take the hints soon enough, I know it."
Babette shrugged with a grin. "We shall see."
Upon hearing far too many shouts from Cogsworth downstairs, Babette sighed.
"I really should be getting back to work," she said, clearly hating to do so. "If he catches me, I will never hear the end of it."
Belle nodded. "Absolutely, I understand. Perhaps later when everything is done, we can continue? It's nice to have someone to talk to."
Babette smiled appreciatively. "If you wish, I would like that. Until later then."