For a year, he waited. He waited between chores for the sound of the bedroom door creaking open to let in his brother who would shrug and say he forgot the cloth for shining the master's shoes. Or that Maman was looking for them. At dinner, he set a place for his brother until his mother, worn out and generally a sad woman who had been through too much, broke down crying. His brother's plate forever remained a decoration in the wooden cupboard instead of gracing the table. He prayed before bed, asking, no, begging, for his brother to be sound asleep in the bed next to him when he woke up like he always had been. As the days passed, the prayers ceased and the waiting lasted fewer and fewer hours.

When a year had passed, life had regained its sense of normalcy, as if the hole had simply never existed. On the anniversary of losing their child and sibling, a strange man arrived. This time, the man, though just as different and strange as the previous, did not stir the same feelings of fear and unease within him. Instead, he felt resigned as if he knew what to expect. Before long, he was called to meet him.

As he stood before his master and the man, who introduced himself as Channing, he knew he was leaving his maman behind, just like his brother had. There was nothing to be done. He could see it in her teary eyes.

A warm hand suddenly tipped his chin up so Channing could look into his hazel eyes sunken into the smaller skull of a still growing boy. The eyes he saw belonged not to a child but a man; this caused Channing's mouth to pull into a frown at the edges. His chin was released.

"Was he lively before, sir?" Channing asked. The man's way of talking was strange, for it didn't sound the same as the people from the village. He frowned, small fingers rubbing away any discomfort that lingered from the man's touch. He watched the master nod thoughtfully. "He needs to get away from here. We have a position available that needs to be filled, and soon. He would do quite nicely."

The master turned toward him and seemed surprised when he had an answer ready.

"I'll will be ready to go in an hour, Monsieur Channing."

After having breakfast with her husband, Belle attempted to find Cogsworth, intending to find out the answers to the questions which still churned in her mind. The few servants she passed all told her the same thing: Cogsworth was in the kitchen with Mrs. Potts.

Belle knew that technically, as the lady of the house, she was supposed to stay away from the servant's quarters, seeing as that was for the staff and not for the royal couple. She couldn't help the thrill that ran through her at knowing she was doing something she was not supposed to. She smiled and turned the knob, stepping inside the room she had only seen filled with Enchanted Objects working diligently on whatever their task happened to be. She found that she almost missed the magic of it all when Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts looked up from the tea they were having together using an ordinary, plain tea set.

"Your highness!" Cogsworth practically yelped, rushing to his feet. He calmed only slightly when she raised her hands to assure him that all was well. She felt bad for causing the anxiety clearly dancing in his eyes.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I thought you'd be the best person to ask about the questions I have."

Mrs. Potts stood to clear the dishes away while Cogsworth and the princess spoke.

"You all must have been a here a long time. I've seen how well all of your staff works together. Do you know when they came to the castle?"

"Dear," Mrs. Potts said before the man had a chance to reply. "A job like this one is one you keep. You have enough food, good shelter, and a little money to buy whatever little trinkets you like from the town or what the master isn't willing to give you. It's hard work, but you'd have to be crazy to want to give it up."

"Most of them came years ago, when the staff was smaller. We've all been here for years, madam," Cogsworth answered. "We've had several come and go, yes, but of the main staff, very few are recent additions. I was even born here."

"You were?"

"Yes indeed, your highness. Mrs. Potts was here before I was."

"Mrs. Potts? Do you remember when the other people came here?"

"Oh deary me..." Mrs. Potts dried her hands of the soapy water once she finished with the dishes, turning to face the two patiently waiting for her reply. "Lumière came when you were about fifteen. And his new little wife Babette a few years later. Chef was here before us all! I don't remember when anyone else arrived, I'm afraid."

"That's alright, thank you," Belle said with a smile. "I should get back to Adam, he'll be wondering where I've gone soon."

Both servants nodded and bowed or curtsied when she went to leave. She wandered down the hall, intending to be true to her word and find her husband to share with him what she'd learned. She hadn't gone far before she heard the sounds of a heated argument and chose to investigate.

What she found, didn't surprise her. Two of the maids stood facing each other, eyes gleaming with hatred and mouths twisted to ugly sneers. One maid, a young woman Belle had never known by name, stood with her back against the wall and her arms crossed tightly over his chest in an attempt to seem almost untouched by the anger practically pouring off the other. Her nonchalance only served to escalate the volatile situation.

"I told you to keep your hands off him!" Babette screeched, feather duster pointed so the handle was mere inches from the other woman's face. The nasty smirk that appeared on the other's face gave Belle the impression this fight had been going on for a while.

"Lumière isn't someone you can own," she taunted. "He can't be tamed or tied down. He's too free to be content with only one woman."

Seeing as the topic of their fight was no where in sight and therefore unable to settle the dispute, Belle stepped in.

"Excusez-moi, s'il vous plaît. What's going on here?"

"This girl is lusting over my husband!" Babette glared at her fellow maid, looking like an animal fighting back the primal urge to defend what belonged to her. The comment reduced them back to bickering, masking the sounds of approaching sets of footsteps.

"Mademoiselle et madame, that's enough," Prince Adam said firmly as he stopped beside Belle. The maids hastily curtsied. Babette looked past the royal couple to where a bemused Lumière stood. Catching her eye, the man stepped around Belle and Adam to wrap an arm around his wife. "What happened?"

"Everything is fine, maître," Babette replied after a moment, resting her hand over Lumière's where it rested lightly on her hip. Her anger was gone and all it had taken was her husband's warm embrace.