BELLE could only stare at the girl in the mirror as she stared wide-eyed and awed at her reflection as Laure and Mrs. Potts put the finishing touches on curling her hair and ensuring she was dressed for dinner in a lavish and expensive-looking blue velvet gown with gold trimming at the neckline, sleeves, and hems. Just this one gown alone would have been enough to feed their entire village for at least a month, Belle was sure of it.
Laure had insisted that she borrow a pair of gold earrings as well, though Belle had stubbornly tried to refuse, insisting that it would be too much. But her friend put her foot down and stomped her foot in a moment of frustration as she all but slipped the earrings into Belle's earlobes herself and clicked her tongue at her.
"I don't care how it happened, Belle, but why can you not see that this is your chance? Most ladies would give their pinky fingers to have caught the attention of the Prince himself and you have managed to do this within a few weeks. This is truly something amazing, my friend," Laure breathed. Her friend was wide-eyed and starry-eyed at the mention of the Prince.
Laure rose a brow at the flustered young brunette and stared at her as though Laure could hardly believe her eyes. For all Belle knew of her, perhaps she couldn't, and she supposed she couldn't blame her.
"I—I understand," Belle stammered, though she was not so sure that she did, honestly.
Belle was not entirely sure what her friend meant by that, but she could only nod reluctantly and resign herself to the fact that this dinner was happening regardless of whether she wanted it to or not.
So, she sat back and allowed Mrs. Potts and her niece to fuss over her hair and the state of her gown until they ensured not a curl was out of place and nothing of her clothing was amiss. Belle rose from her chair once the two women were finished and took a small step towards the door upon Monsieur Cogsworth quietly announcing in a warbling ancient voice from the other side of her closed bedroom door that the master was waiting for her in the West Wing. Her new blue dress swayed ever so slightly.
She noticed out of the corner of her eye as Laure's shoulders stiffened as she twisted her neck to look back at her friend, but they relaxed as she smiled at her. Laure must have had a thought flit through her mind, for the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
"I always knew that the master did have a way with women. Admittedly a very strange way, but he never seemed the type to like brunettes, but I suppose you will have to tell me after tonight," she grinned, and her sky-blue eyes widened in shock as she realized what she had said.
Belle looked baffled. "W-what? N-no…no…I—I agreed to have dinner with the B—with your master, as a favor owed. He-he went with me back home to my village so I could attend Monsieur LeFou's wedding and this is what he asked for in repayment of my debt," she stammered and trailed off as her nervous eyes met Mrs. Potts' gaze and Laure's mischievous smirk growing on her face.
A pink blush graced her face embarrassedly as she tucked a stray curl back behind her ear and tried to ignore the knowing look Mrs. Potts and Laure exchanged with one another. They did not look convinced by the excuse she had given, but thankfully, they sensed her discomfort and did not want to prod her for a reaction right now and let the uncomfortable matter drop, thank God.
Mrs. Potts, God bless her kind soul, quickly came to her rescue.
"Fear not, dearie. The master's intentions with you are pure, of that, Monsieur's Cogsworth, Lumiere, and I are sure. We can see the change in the Prince, and it has only been a few weeks since you arrived. It is a change for the better and we would see the goodness within him brought out. If that means that he wishes you to join him for dinner, then I think that you would be wise, dearie, not to take advantage of the master's feelings."
She let a small smile show on her fair features and nodded to Mrs. Potts and Laure, grateful for their help in getting ready.
"Thank you both so much for helping me, but I should go. The Prince won't be happy with me if I'm late," she stammered, trying to ignore the fiery heat creeping to her cheeks. Mrs. Potts and Laure quickly nodded their approval and darted towards the door to open it for her and ushered her outside, where Cogsworth was waiting for her to escort her to the West Wing.
The old man smiled warmly and sank into a low, albeit awkward bow and kindly motioned for Belle to follow him with a curt wave of his arm, all the while obsessively checking his pocket watch and fretting with every second that passed that drew Belle closer and closer to being late.
"Come, mademoiselle, the master hates tardiness in anyone but himself, Belle, and you are very nearly late to supper, almost five minutes!" the Head of House scolded, though his eyes behind his spectacles were twinkling slightly as his eyes made a quick scan of the Prince's maid in her new gown and her new hair. She looked every bit the part of a Princess.
Belle was a fair sight lovelier than that wretched Circe the master would have married, Cogsworth thought bitterly to himself as he scurried down the corridor and led Belle, who was struggling to keep up, to the West Wing. Belle sank into a brief curtsy and offered Cogsworth an apologetic look and looked genuinely remorseful for keeping him waiting.
"My apologies, Monsieur Cogsworth, oh please forgive me for being so late, I-I did not expect that to dress for dinner would take so long," she stammered nervously and halted her words as she realized they were right in front of the doors to the Wing.
She grimaced as she flicked her gaze towards the nearest window and saw that it was pitch black outside and starting to snow.
A blizzard was said to be upon them come tonight, and by the looks of it, it had already started.
The Prince would have transformed by now, she realized with a jolt, and suddenly grew panicked as she realized Monsieur Cogsworth was reaching for the handle of the door to the Prince's chamber as if to open it and allow her inside.
She quickly darted forward and jutted out a hand to cover the knob with her hand before he could. Cogsworth withdrew his hand into himself, shocked, and looked at Belle with wide, questioning eyes.
"Mademoiselle, what on earth-?" he spluttered, indignant as Belle quickly moved to block the door and prevent the old man from entering the Wing to announce her.
He would glimpse the Prince in his cursed Changeling form, and she feared if Cogsworth were to see him in such a condition, he might suffer a complaint of the heart at his old age and die right here in the hall.
The startled woman looked intently into Monsieur Cogsworth's suspicious eyes for a moment as she tried to will her racing heart to relax. Finally, Belle found her voice.
"There's no need, sir. I-I'm ready to go in now, monsieur, but I can take myself. I do not wish to take up too much of your time this evening, the Prince has ordered that our meals be delivered outside the door if they have not been already," she murmured, her mind drifting towards thoughts of the Prince and her mind was becoming stuck on what Laure had said.
A shiver went down her spine at the implication of what that meant. It would mean that the Prince was harboring a vested interest in her, but why? She was not exactly marriageable material, considering their different status in rank. She was, by rights, a farm girl, and he, the Prince of these lands. To even consider that the Prince could ever have feelings for her was just a fantasy.
More to the point, besides, she thought the Beast-Prince despised her. He always had some cutting remark to say to her and more than once, Belle had caught him eyeing her as though she downright repulsed him.
What on earth could he possibly see in her that he would find so interesting as to pursue, or even consider her as an option? But even as she pondered this, a small smile played on her lips. Everything about the Prince's demeanor when it was just the two of them alone was so different from the mask he wore for others. He was almost…kind. Gentle, she might even say.
She knew that the Prince cared for her, for it had been he who had looked after her following Gaston nearly hurting her. Gaston had certainly never been a warm or caring figure in her life, as any instances of affection usually came at a price, usually a jab at her or Papa's expense. A part of Belle wondered what her life here could be like if her circumstances were not so dire.
Shaking away thoughts of Gaston for now, she smiled in thinking about how the Prince was kind and modest when near her, or at least, this had been the case ever since they had returned to the castle following Monsieur LeFou's wedding.
He had checked in on her constantly, nearly fretting over her well-being to the brink of hyperventilation.
Belle had to send him away at one point as his fretting over her was making it difficult for her to relax.
She remembered she owed Cogsworth an answer and came back to herself. "I will not need a guard outside," she announced, trying to sound sure of herself and Monsieur Cogsworth frowned.
"But my lady, I don't think that is a good idea. The young master, he will—"
"Not hurt me, Monsieur, please, I will be quite safe in the Prince's company, I can assure you of that, sir," Belle finished firmly, to which Cogsworth nodded reluctantly and turned, heading down the hall and away from the West Wing, leaving her well alone.
With a shaky breath to calm her nerves, Belle turned towards the door to the West Wing, and with a firm twist and a push, shoved the massive door open. The thing creaked horribly in its hinges as Belle opened it, announcing the Prince within to her presence. A low-sounding thud emanated from the carved wood as Belle slipped inside.
Belle was sure that no one else had followed her here, at least, hopefully, she had not been.
The last thing the Prince needed when he was surely already vexed at her lateness was a servant eavesdropping or worse, stumbling in and learning of his secret. Her breath caught in her throat to find the Beast standing at the far side of the room, dressed in an immaculate navy blue coat that she had never seen him wear before.
Lighted candles lined either side of the massive room. Belle had to squint to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light.
Belle nervously flicked her gaze towards a small table that had been moved from being shoved unceremoniously against one of the walls and into the center of the room. Belle's face crumpled in pure curiosity at the delectable meal set out on the table, at the greeting of roasted turkey legs and a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes swimming in dark gravy. A hard baguette loaf had been sliced and buttered, and beside the bread was a small wheel of cheese. A tin flagon of spiced wine finished the meal.
Her eyes lingered on the place settings, which were not at all where she had expected them to be. Instead of being strategically placed across from one another, they were side by side, which made Belle feel uneasy for reasons she did not understand.
Her eyes widened as her heart was suddenly in her throat. Even her hands were starting to become clammy, which was something she had not anticipated. Her breath caught in her throat as the Beast slowly turned and met Belle's curious gaze.
The Beast's lips twitched as though the Changeling Prince were fighting a smile.
"I hope you do not mind, Belle," he said in an almost soft tone. "I took the liberty of already setting up our meal."
Belle shook her head.
"I could have done that for you, sir, there was no need to trouble yourself. But…that was very kind of you." She smiled appreciatively, though she was still a bit wary. She did not know what the Prince's intentions were in asking her to dinner. Was it to ask her questions about her life? "I do not mind. Thank you," she said, too quickly and looked away.
But the Beast shook his head, sending her words away.
"I would not hear of it, Belle. Even if it is just for tonight, you are no longer my maid. While you eat with me, you are my guest."
The Prince took a step towards the table, his paws resting on the edges of the chair that Belle presumed was to be hers, for he pulled it out and away from the table and motioned for her to occupy the seat next to his.
Belle could only comply and hurried to sit down, trying to ignore the flushing of her cheeks as she picked up the skirts of her gown. The Beast smiled and Belle could detect no rake in his smile now.
"That dress, Belle, looks remarkable on you. I see that my servants have exquisite taste. I will have to thank Mrs. Potts at my earliest convenience. Blue is a becoming color on you, it suits you. An excellent choice."
"Thank you," Belle murmured shyly, feeling more than a little awkward and out of place as she allowed the Beast to push into her chair for her once she sat down. She swallowed and looked at the food on her plate, suddenly not sure she was so hungry.
"No, Belle, I am the one who should be thanking you," the Beast grunted as he sat down and eyed the crystal silverware by his plate, but he made no move to pick up his fork and begin eating. "You accepted my invitation to dinner, something that I did not expect that you would agree to."
Belle gave him a funny smile.
"Why wouldn't I, Your Highness? You came with me to LeFou's wedding, sir, you asked me to join you for dinner to repay the favor. Of course, I come," she muttered, nonplussed.
Belle was so nervous and preoccupied with what their conversation over dinner was likely to entail, that she did not notice the Prince was staring plainly at her, a look of desire sparking to life behind his eyes.
The lights from the candles in their pronged holders that surrounded the table draped over her form in such a way that in the warm candlelight, Belle's skin held a sun-kissed sort of look, as though she had been outside in the warmth of the summer sun.
Her dark curls framed her face beautifully. She was looking like a work of art as she sat close to him. He had a hard time tearing his gaze away but forced himself to look towards his plate of food and pick up his fork as Belle returned her gaze toward him.
Belle had been about to take a sip of the spiced wine, she had never considered herself a drinker, she knew that about herself. She could not quite shake the feeling that she might need the assistance of the grape alcohol to get through the meal.
But before she could take her first sip of the beverage, the Beast-Prince spoke, interrupting her.
"I hope that you know where this dinner is going, where I had hoped it would. You do not yet regret saying yes, do you?"
Belle, alarmed, looked up at him in surprise and then, over her shoulder towards the door at the Prince's suggestion.
Was the Beast advising that she flee? She frowned and shook her head, refusing his words. She sat back in her chair and smiled, crossing one leg over the other. The Beast followed the shifting of the fabric of her blue velvet gown with interested eyes and then growled a low guttural growl that Belle nearly jumped and almost dropped her fork.
"I'll take that as a no then, Belle," he said, though he sounded almost relieved.
"I'm right here where I'm sitting, Your Highness. I'm not anywhere else. I gave you my word that I would have supper with you, and I keep my promises," she said solemnly, pursing her lips as she stared, to which the Beast stared right back in awe.
Belle flushed as the Beast proceeded to eye the coloring of her cheeks with a critical interest and busied herself by beginning to eat her meal. She shoveled a spoonful of the roasted turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy into her mouth and tried to ignore the burn of his gaze. Thankfully following that strange look that passed between them just then, their conversation was relatively light over dinner. The Beast and Belle spoke mostly of the books they had read and shared interests.
However, Belle purposefully did not mention the strange book Nevermore she had been gifted by the Beast.
She still suspected the book was about him, as a child, but wanted to keep her suspicions to herself until she could hear the truth from him and did not want to spoil his mood over dinner. No mention was made of Belle's attempted kidnapping by Gaston, or of the Duke's presence here in the castle, yet it hung heavy between them. Their conversation was pleasant and light. They spoke mostly of the books Belle had read, the places she wanted to travel if she could go anywhere in the world, and her dreams.
Belle could not recall a time in her life when she had talked so much about herself and her interests.
Or when she'd had someone other than Papa or Monsieur Levi, the bookstore owner of their village back home, listening so intently to her words as the Prince was doing right now. Nor could she recall a time when she'd been so happy.
Perhaps it was the wine making her bold, Belle wondered as she took a sip. She was not a drinker at all, she knew that about herself. However, she found herself thrilled for the first time tonight and captivated by the scent of the grape alcohol and spoke more boldly to the Prince than perhaps she had any right to do.
"I used to dream of visiting this castle, that Papa and I would be welcomed here as guests," she murmured while they were enjoying dessert, a lovely chocolate custard tart she suspected the chefs had slaved over. She lifted her gaze and smiled at the Beast seated next to her. "It's strange to think that I don't have to do that anymore. I suppose, in a way, this castle is my home now."
She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a kernel of guilt flick to life behind the Beast's bright blue eyes, but as soon as it had come, it was gone, leaving her with no chance to ponder what it meant further as the Prince spoke, asking her another question as a desire to change the topic.
"What other dreams do you have, Belle?" he asked, seriously.
Belle paused and thought for a moment as she toyed with her fork.
Before coming to work at the castle, she'd had so many dreams. But they had been just that and nothing more—dreams. Wishes.
Wishes to live a much different life than was expected of her. She would not have ever dared to leave the village had she not been proposed to Gaston. But she was not about to tell him that and spoil the mood.
"I'd like to see more of the world. I want to see other lands, the oceans, the mountains, as much of it as I can," she said slowly. "I'd like to help people in need. And…" She stopped, unsure whether or not to continue, but he prompted her to.
"And?" he coaxed gently.
Belle pursed her lips. After tonight's dinner, she suspected that she would return to her usual duties as the Prince's maid and go back to being a wallflower, a quiet mouse who spoke only when spoken to, to being forgotten. But still, she found herself answering the Beast honestly.
"I-I'd like to remember what it feels like to be loved. Since Papa died, I haven't…haven't felt it at all."
Her voice was a mere whisper and she could not look into his eyes as she stared down at her hands resting in her lap. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Belle wished she could take them back.
It sounded pathetic, even to her. But nor could Belle remember the last time a man who was not Papa had said anything kind to her, let alone shared a meal with her and spent time getting to know her.
"Y-you must think I'm hopeless," Belle said quickly before the Beast could respond with a reply.
"No. Not at all, Belle. You've seen the man I grew up with as a father. How stubborn he is," he grunted, a note of bitterness in his voice. Belle did not dare look up at him, but the Beast shifted closer in his seat so their fingers almost touched. "I understand more than you think. I wish for that for myself as well."
She looked at him then, a flood of warmth rushing through her heart.
She pitied how his father treated him and suspected it had been this way for most of his life. There was still the matter of the book Nevermore she wished to broach but perhaps that was a conversation best saved for later in the evening.
Instead, all she could think of to say to him that felt right was, "I think that you have strength, of a different kind, Your Highness. And one day, your father will see it, sir."
The Beast looked shocked at Belle's words but less so than he had expected to be.
A hesitant smile flitted across his monstrous features, and the candles flickered behind them as the two sat in silence. Neither one of them said a word, for the moment that passed between them with just a look, was too precious to ruin.
Once their meal was finished, their stomachs full, Belle suggested a walk to the library to allow their meals to digest, lest they wound up with upset stomachs later. The Prince agreed, though his heart was in his throat as he allowed the young woman to take the lead once they were sure no other souls were wandering the hallways.
He did not know how Belle would react to the news that she was to return to her village come the morning and it was a topic of conversation that he was dreading broaching with her, yet it could not be avoided. However, he suspected that tonight would only end with her shouting at him and her tears, the Prince still could not help but hope for the future. A future with her.
Once they were behind the closed doors of the library, the Beast was able to turn his full attention towards Belle as she meandered through the aisles of his library. He watched her, taken by the grace of her movements.
The pads of her fingertips ghosted along the spines of the books as she looked to be deep in thought about which book she wanted to borrow next. He studied the soft angles of Belle's striking features, washed in the light of the fire that roared in the hearth as she gazed enthralled at a new book she held in her hands. The content expression she wore calmed whatever frayed nerves that had existed within the Beast before now. The Beast clung to the feeling that welled within him that as long as Belle remained by his side, all would be well. That perhaps there was a chance that one day, he could break this wretched curse.
Feeling hope rearing its head within his chest, or perhaps it was the glass and a half of wine that he had drank with dinner that was making him bold, he spoke candidly with Belle. Perhaps more than he had a right to, as the Beast promptly forgot himself.
"How could a man like your hunter back in your village treat a beautiful woman like you so cruelly?" the Prince demanded, almost sounding angry, but not at Belle, at the man who he had encountered now twice in the woods and had very nearly hurt Belle.
Belle looked up, surprised, and nearly fumbled and dropped the book in her hands, much to the Beast's surprise, as she raised her shocked eyes to him. She shot him a look pained as though he had slapped her.
"Why—why would you call me that?" she asked, stricken, her voice trembling.
The Beast stared, shocked. He swore he could see her heart break. He had not intended for her to take his words as an insult but as a form of the highest compliment. He did not know how to begin to correct his mistake.
"I….what?" he stammered, his stomach hollowing at her crestfallen expression as she took a step back. "I don't understand," he hesitated, as he fought to comprehend the apparent insult he had just given her. However, Belle did not let him finish as she turned away, clutching the book in her hands close to her heart as if the story were her only comfort to her now.
"I…I don't like that word. Gaston, the—the hunter you've met and saved me from twice now, he…he never used it to refer to me with any kindness, sir," she whispered, shamefaced, as she studied the floor beneath her in far too engrossed a manner.
Belle looked away, ashamed. She took a deep breath to explain why she could not bear the word as a compliment in regards to her looks but found she could not voice the comments. The Beast gingerly moved closer to comfort Belle in whatever minuscule way that he could. He looked as though he was of a mind to rest a paw on her shoulder but thought better of it, unsure if Belle would allow it. Instead, he waited patiently for his maid to speak up.
"The villagers back home mocked me for it. Beauty, they called me, both to my face and behind my back." Her eyes were distant as she recalled the bad memories she would rather not think about. "I was a joke to them," Belle admitted, her face pained as her voice fell to barely a hushed whisper. She crinkled her nose in disgust at the memory and quickly looked away.
The Beast felt his blood begin to boil at those who had openly mocked this woman. He wished he could storm into the village now and rip them all apart limb from limb. His heart ached for her at their cruelty. He did not know how long he stayed silent.
For the longest time, he made no sound as he searched for the right words to say to her. Finally, the Beast spoke up, gruffly.
"But surely you can see it for yourself, Belle?" he told her. "That is exactly what makes you so…." The Beast paused, trying to search for a different word that would not cause his maid any distress, but could not find an appropriate word. There was no other way he had to describe her. "Beautiful," the Beast proclaimed at last with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
He wished there was a way that he could go about reclaiming the only word that would do justice to the woman's beauty, a woman who he thought, he was beginning to love with all his black and wicked heart, though he knew that he may not be much for her at all. He smiled wanly to himself as he shook his head. The Beast was unable to imagine any woman in the world that was as breathtaking as the beauty before him now. Sensing that Belle was not convinced, he continued.
"When I call you beautiful, Belle, it is because I speak the truth. You are the loveliest and most extraordinary creature that my monstrous eyes have ever laid eyes upon, and I am glad that you chose to stay."
He smiled in awe of her and felt a little nagging pull in his heart that this moment was not to last, that he would have to confess the truth, that Father was banishing her from his home, but he had no intention of letting her stay away from him permanently and would collect her just as soon as the Duke left to return to Paris.
When Belle looked up at him, her eyes were filled with tears and she tried to sniff them away. Amazed at the depth of his caring for her and overcome with the beginnings of affection in her heart, Belle was suddenly filled with shame as she recalled her curiosity towards the strange book Nevermore the Prince had given her not but a few days ago.
The book went into horrific details. It spoke of the young boy's abuse and the mysterious circumstances surrounding the death of the boy's mother at a young age. She looked intently at the Beast just then and Belle's pained look immediately worried him.
"I—I have to ask you something, sir, if I may," she began, sounding nervous as she clutched the book closer to her heart in a vice.
"Anything." The Beast tried to smile at her agreeably, though it felt more like a grimace as he suspected he knew where she was going. No doubt she was going to broach Nevermore, the book of his life's story, the Enchantress's cruel idea of a joke.
Unable to look him in the eye, Belle nervously glanced down at the book she held close to her heart and strangely found herself wishing that it was the copy of the book the Prince had loaned her so that she could broach the topic more easily with him.
"The book that you gave me in the library, sir, Nevermore," she whispered, her voice betraying the regret and horror she felt when she spoke. "The boy in the story who suffers so much from his father…is it you?" she asked.
She hesitated and lifted her gaze. There was a part of that wished she had not looked, for the moment she locked eyes with the Beast, she found such sorrow in his wintry blue eyes that she had difficulty not averting her gaze. She was wracked in shame.
"Yes, another one of the Enchantress's cruel jokes," he whispered in a low hoarse voice calloused with ire, causing Belle to look up in surprise. She was sure she looked shocked but less so than she expected to be as she realized that he was looking hurt.
His blue eyes looked confused and his lips parted as if he meant to elaborate further but he did not.
Perhaps he was waiting for her to ask a follow-up question. Her heart ached for him as fresh tears came to her eyes but she swallowed down hard and furiously blinked her lids, forcing herself to not allow herself to cry right now.
"I'm so sorry, Your Highness, I...suspected that it was, but I did not want to believe it. I cannot even imagine what you went through as a boy. A-and your father, sir, why does he hate you so much?" Belle whispered, cringing as the words left her lips.
She prayed she was not overstepping her place and crossing some invisible boundary by asking, but thankfully, he did not seem offended that she had asked this of him. She froze and stared at him with wide, hurting eyes upon hearing his sullen voice.
There was so much sadness in his gaze that she had never seen in the Prince before, as a man or a Beast as he was right now, and she wanted him to share his pain too, as they could hurt together and perhaps heal together.
"I have not spoken to anyone here in the castle of what happened to her, Belle. They are feelings that have gone unheard for years. You are the first to know the truth...I killed my mother, Belle," he admitted in a hoarse voice that was barely audible. "My mother did not die from a complaint of the heart as you might have heard your villagers talking of," he growled in a low voice. "Father covered up the rumors and commanded the doctor who tended to her wounds to secrecy. It was an accident. Mother tried to intervene during the middle of one of my first transformations, a few days after the witch cast this spell on me. I told you once before that it is very painful to turn into the Beast that I become at night. I was oft kept locked away with no one to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. My mother couldn't stand listening to my screams. Father ordered her not to go downstairs into the basement, but she refused to listen. She thought she could help ease the pain if she was just there by my side," he confessed, shooting her a pained look. Belle said nothing, horrified. "She was mauled during, she…she died from her wounds. I...I had scratched and clawed her to the point she had lost so much blood, there was little that the physicians and doctors could do for her other than to try to keep her comfortable. Father has blamed me for her death ever since. My transformation was how he lost his eye, Father tried to step between us to save her life. I—I lost control that night, I—I can't control myself when I transform."
Belle remained frozen, staring at the Beast with wide eyes. She felt sure she had misheard him just now but still, she managed to squeak, "…What?" Her voice sounded hollow.
Belle swore she felt her heart burst and in the middle of their conversation, she did not hesitate to set the book she had been holding down on a nearby table and rush to him. She took the Beast by the neck and gently rested his head on her shoulder before she heard him sniff, as though he were fighting back tears of his own now.
As she held him, Belle stood numbly staring into the flames of the fireplace behind the Beast. The heat from the fire flushed her cheeks and nearly made her sweat, though upon hearing the admission of the truth of how the Duchess had died, Belle suddenly felt ice-cold. She whispered soothing nothings into the shell of his ear and tried to rub small circles near his spine.
She tried to do whatever she could to relay some comfort. As her tears fell as her heart ached for the Prince, she thought she was beginning to understand the depths of emotion that were growing within her for this Changeling Prince.
She did not care that he was a man by day and a Beast by night. Belle's eyes widened as she realized what she thought she could no longer deny. She thought that she loved this man, this Beast, and everything the Prince was in between.
Somewhere, during her time spent here at the castle, she had grown close to the Prince as his maid and was falling in love with him. She prayed that there was a part of the Prince that could return her feelings, that there was a way, perhaps, if he would have her, that she could remain here, that she could stay by his side and call this castle her forever home.
Her mind was working overtime as she felt the Beast squirm in her embrace, and she reluctantly let go of him. Belle suddenly felt as though she were going to crawl right out of her skin then. The walls of the library seemed as if they were closing in around her, making Belle feel slightly sick and claustrophobic. She watched the Beast, studying his face for any hint that he could return her feelings. Belle could not recall the last time she had felt so nervous around a man before.
Yet, being here with the Prince now, even in his monstrous form as the Beast, and finally realizing that she thought this Changeling Prince was a man she could love. Even if his curse was never broken, she also did not know of a time when she had ever felt more comfortable before, till now. Spurred by how alike they were, how alone in the heart they were, and eager to show the Beast how she felt, Belle boldly marched up to the Beast and grabbed onto his large arms. Her hands were shaking as she took his paws in her hands, holding them tightly and afraid if she let go, then he would vanish.
"I'm sorry that you've suffered all that you have, but...you are not alone anymore. I am here, and I…I have something to tell you as well. I think that I might…like you," she whispered. Unsure and hardly daring to believe her actions, much less the words that were coming out of her mouth, Belle had to pop herself up onto her tiptoes to press a gentle and chaste kiss against his mouth to show him how she felt. Though her first kiss was awkward and clumsy, it was still sweet as her lips met his.
Belle felt a tingling warmth throughout her body. It did not matter that her first kiss was to a Beast, it still seemed and felt right. She had never been kissed like this before, and she did not want the kiss to end. Their kiss didn't, for the longest time.
Then, finally, she was forced to pull apart when she realized with a heavy heart that the Prince was not returning her kiss as she had hoped for. Shaken, she took a few shaky steps backward to study his features. The Beast's expression was confused.
Her expression showcased her hurt and confusion as she brought her hands up to cover her mouth, horrified by the realization of her actions. Belle could only stare at him, wide-eyed as she tried to make sense of his reaction, or lack thereof. She stood there numb for a moment and then backed away from the Beast in embarrassment. So, he had not felt the same for her, after all. Had the connection and friendship she had thought to be forming between them all these weeks, had it been a farce to her all along?
"I—I'm sorry, Your Highness," she begged, utterly mortified. "Please forgive me, I—I didn't mean to." Her face reddened but before she could reach the doors, she felt the Beast tug her back and spin her around gently to face her.
"Belle, stop. Don't go," he pleaded, his expression pained. "…I—you must know that I…that I have wanted this, that I have…wanted you, since the moment I first laid eyes upon you, when you did not flee when you saw me like this," the Beast growled as he gestured towards his monstrous form, but Belle's gaze remained fixated on his blue eyes. "But…there's something that I have to tell you, and it cannot wait," he confessed, his expression pained as he looked at her. "Father has ordered you to leave."
"What?" Belle demanded, her eyes growing red at the rims as fresh tears stung and pricked at the edges of her eyes.
Surely, she had heard the Prince wrong just now. Her brows creased in confusion.
The Prince sighed and then, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, he spoke, but he could not bring himself to look into her eyes, and he turned his profile towards the side.
"Father is sending you back to the village, Belle, in the morning. You are not safe here in the castle as long as the Duke remains here."
Belle quietly considered the Prince's words. Her cheeks burned with humiliation.
He thought of sending her away after she had been promised that she would be protected.
There was a part of her that was stung with a horrible hurt and bitterness that she feared the Prince's plan to come for her would not end as he thought. It was clear that in his way, he loved the Duke, the man was his father, after all.
It was now her turn to stare off into the distance, for Belle could not meet the Beast's pleading gaze. Just one look at the Beast's face told Belle that the Prince had no idea what he had just done. The Beast had just destroyed her faith in all men by telling her this after he had allowed her to kiss him.
"I…" she trailed off and struggled to find the right words as her eyes filled with bitter tears. "I won't be coming back, will I?" she announced her words as if she were already certain, her tone flat.
The Beast did not think he could bear hearing the dread in Belle's prediction. He scowled.
"Of course, I will come for you, Belle." He moved to take her elbows and brought her around so she was facing him. He tried to give the girl a hopeful smile. "Once Father is gone, I will come for you."
"And you're just going to let him send me away? Back to my village that bodes no more happy memories for me, back to my home that is trashed beyond repair, back to Gaston? B-but you promised me that I would be safe here, Your Highness!" Belle angrily cut the Beast off, feeling her breathing increase and her heart rate pick up speed as it pounded against her ribs almost painfully.
The air around her suddenly felt quite thick and suffocating. Belle eyed him worriedly. She sniffed as she blinked back a tear, thinking the wretched little drops in her eyes were to be spent. Her heart was so heavy with grief at the thought of leaving the castle and the other servants who had become her friends, her new family, that she was past the point of crying.
"No matter how much you will want me to return, your father would never allow it." The Beast tried to protest, but Belle continued and did not let him interrupt. "You will stay away from me if it means there's a chance you could mend your relationship with your father after all this time. And Gaston will marry me and I would be left with no choice but to try to drown myself," she exploded in a dramatic fashion that was not like her at all. For a moment, the Beast was taken aback by her almost violent shift.
Belle shuddered. There was no room in her overactive and sensitive imagination for dreamy fantasies now, she tried to tell herself and hardened her gaze. She could not envision her and the Prince enjoying life together, holding the man's hand and running towards the sunset, running away from the rest of the world. Those fantasies should be tucked away forever and made history.
She could not manage to find her voice, so as an answer, Belle looked towards the Beast with icy-cold eyes. She tried to hide the hurt and immense disappointment that was breaking her heart. The Beast shook his head, though he looked utterly humiliated.
"It is not permanent, Belle, I—I give you my word that I will come for you once Father leaves and it is safe for me to do so, but you will be rescued, I promise. You will not be gone long," The Prince desperately tried to ease her fear, but it was to no avail.
"Stop, please, no more," she wept. A tear slipped from the edge of Belle's eye as she furiously shook her head to herself. "I-I don't think I have the comprehension for this right now. I-I h-have to go, Your Highness, I-I'm sorry."
She took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief as a dozen sour memories came crashing down on her all at once. She turned her heels and began to storm out of the library, never once looking back, no longer concerned with how she was making him feel.
And why should she care what the Prince thought of her now, really, as it was clear that he did not feel the same for her after all?
Belle left the library, leaving the Beast unable to call for her in defeat.