A/N just to thank Trudi once again for beta'ing, and improving the chapter! And I've replaced chapter 5, by accident I've posted the unedited version!

It was late morning when Adam and Lumière rode out of the village of Eslettes, yet another town where they had had no luck. Nobody here had heard of Belle or her father. No one was able to give them even the smallest clue where he could find Belle.

Adam was getting more and more frustrated. Their search hadn't gone according to plan at all! He had no idea where to look for Belle, or even if he was getting closer to her or not! He wondered if it was some sort of second part of the curse, some trick from that witch Alexia! He had learned to love another, yet was now tortured with having to live without her. That would be one cruel trick.

"You will find her, your highness," Lumière interrupted Adam's train of thought.

They arrived at a crossroads. One road went back to the castle, one to Montville, and one to Rouen.

"What if she lives in Rouen, Lumière?" Adam said with a desperate sigh. "How am I ever going to find her if she lives in a big city?"

"Then it will take longer to find her," Lumière tried to reassure the prince.

"What if I don't?" Adam disagreed. "What am I supposed to do then? How can I live without Belle? She's the one who rescued me!"

"We have only been looking for three days. There are still a few villages we have to go to." Lumière pointed into the direction of the forest. "Let's go to Montville, it's on the other side of the forest."

"I wanted to find her myself, but now it's more important that she just be found," Adam said, determined. He steered the horse to the path leading to the village. "If we don't find her today, then tomorrow everyone in the castle will go out looking for her."

When they had almost reached the other side of the forest, they saw two men approaching. One was tall and muscular, the other short and stout. They were carrying hunting rifles - well, the short guy was carrying everything.

"Messieurs!" Adam shouted as he rode to them at high speed. Those men must live in Montville. "I need your help!"

"What do you want?" the tall man said arrogantly. He looked as if he and Lumière were disturbing something very important.

"Information," Adam said as he and Lumière dismounted their horses. He gave the reins of his horse to Lumière. "Do you know a girl named Belle?"

For an instant, the hunter looked startled , and Adam felt a surge of hope. But the hunter shook his head.

"Doesn't ring a bell," he said. He slapped the short guy, who apparently hadn't reacted fast enough. "Get it, Lefou? The girl's name is Belle!"

The short guy started to laugh hysterically as if the hunter had said the funniest thing in the world. It was clear that he was the leader. Adam instinctively didn't like the man, but he looked like the big man in town. If Belle was here, he would probably know it.

The hunter stopped laughing and looked from Adam to Lumière and back to Adam. "Why are you looking for her?"

"That's none of your business," Adam said, annoyed. Couldn't this guy just answer the question and help him to find Belle? Why were all these people so difficult!

"If you want my help it is," the man replied, and walked away.

Adam walked after him and put his hand on his shoulder, turning the man around. "Listen: She's living somewhere around here with her father, Maurice." When his hand touched the shoulder, the man immediately turned around, looking at the hand with a raised eyebrow. Adam removed his hand and sighed. "She has brown hair, big eyes. Very beautiful. She's smart, loves to read."

"Our girls here are properly raised," the hunter chuckled. "They don't waste their time reading."

"This girl doesn't waste her time, she enjoys it."

"Still don't know her," the hunter shrugged. He seemed to be thinking about something for a moment. He readjusted his gloves, taking the rifle out of the short guy's hands. "Are you searching in every village in this area?"

"Yes, we need to find her," Adam said warily as he kept his eye on the rifle. He didn't trust this man at all. He was too confident, and clearly not willing to help.

"Then you can check off Montville from your list," the man said, taking a few bullets out of his bag and loading the rifle. He shook his head. "She doesn't live there."

"What about you?" Adam said as he walked to the short guy. "Do you know Belle de la Vallière?"

The little guy gulped. "Gaston is the most popular man in town! He knows everyone!" he said, scared. Apparently he was not used to people asking him questions. He hesitated. "If he says that girl doesn't live here, then she doesn't live here."

Mmm… Adam wasn't convinced. The short guy did whatever the hunter told him, and the hunter… there was something up with him.

The hunter suddenly spoke. "That suit you are wearing…" The man took hold of the front of Adam's coat and examined it. It was very richly embroidered. "Is this a uniform, something official?" he asked, while rubbing the fabric

"No, it's not!" Aggressively, Adam pulled the coat out of the hunter's hand . He got the feeling that this man would be hostile not only to him, but to every nobleman. "Why?"

The man looked at him, putting his rifle on his back. "I can't imagine how, but is that girl a danger to anyone? A threat to society?" he asked.

"What?" Adam asked, confused. Belle, a danger to society? Where did this guy get his ideas from? Adam started wondering whether the man should be committed to an insane asylum!

"If she's such a danger, I can inform the people here to be careful," the hunter suggested.

"She's not," Lumière said quickly. He looked at Adam, saying softly, "Your highness, we'd better go. We are not going to find her here. "

Adam closed his eyes, trying to count to ten, trying not to lose his temper. He thought of Belle, what she would say to him in this situation. She would tell him the same thing. A man like this is not worth getting angry at. He calmed down a bit and turned his back on the hunter. He had to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

If Belle was from this place, he reasoned, she would have mentioned something about these men.


"Why are they looking for Belle?" Lefou asked anxiously.

"I don't know, but he's not going to find her," Gaston said with narrowed eyes. Lefou didn't notice it, but he wasn't all that confident. He didn't like strangers, especially not when they were asking after his future wife.

"He looks rich, almost like a nobleman," Lefou continued, still looking at the men leaving. "What could Belle possibly have to do with a nobleman?"

Gaston tried to figure out that question as quickly as possible. Maybe Belle had met that guy before she moved to the village. There was a rumor in the village that Belle's mother came from a well-to-do family. Could it be that fancy guy was from that time? A family member? No. That guy was not talking like a family member about Belle. He had a different interest in her.

"Wait!" he yelled impulsively, before the two men disappeared from sight. He had to do something. Within seconds the two men were back.

"You remember Belle?" the stranger asked eagerly, as he dismounted his horse and walked to Gaston. "Where is she?"

Gaston ignored the question. He gave the man a good once-over, trying to buy some time. He needed a plan. And fast. Luckily he was slightly taller and his muscles were definitely bigger than the other man's. Aside from the man possibly having a title, he was no match for Gaston. Granted, nobles had power, and a prudent commoner would treat one with respect…but Gaston had never been known for his caution. Besides, they were alone in the woods, and this guy didn't even know Gaston's name. With his customary arrogance, Gaston was confident that nothing would happen to him.

"I asked you a question!" the fancy guy demanded, raising his voice.

Gaston smiled innocently. He had to make sure that this guy would never want to step one foot into the village. If this guy was romantically interested in Belle, Gaston knew what would tick a man off most.

He simply shrugged. "I just wanted to say, when you find your 'Belle' and you are done with her, send her to my house." He pointed over his shoulder. "It's the first big house across the bridge; there are antlers above the door."

"What?"

To Gaston's enjoyment, the fancy guy almost exploded with what Gaston was insinuating. He went on.. pushing him further. "That's why you're looking for a common village girl, isn't it? What happened, did you run out of servant girls?" Gaston grinned at him, trying to see how far he could go. "Come on, you know what I mean. If she's really that beautiful, she's more than welcome!"

Without warning, the fancy guy suddenly pulled out his fencing sword and aimed at Gaston's chest. "Defend yourself, peasant!"

"Hey, be careful with that thing!" Instinctively Gaston took a hasty step back. This was not what he had expected!

The guy took a threatening step forward, pressing the tip of the sword against the fabric of Gaston's jerkin. "What were you saying?"

"I was kidding! I don't know your girl!" Gaston yelled with a touch of fear in his voice. He put up his hands and took another step back. His back bumped against a big tree, cutting off his retreat. He quickly looked around, seeing what his best and quickest way out would be.

Before he could move or jump away, the guy put the point of his sword against Gaston's throat, right under his chin. "And?"

Gaston swallowed, feeling the sharp steel against his skin. This was not part of his plan! He had just wanted to annoy and insult the guy. Not get into a duel! He started to breathe more heavily. "And I don't want to know her, okay?" he added quickly.

The fancy guy seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, to Gaston's vast relief, he put the sword back in its scabbard. He mounted his horse again and gave Gaston one more cold glare. "I'm not wasting my time with you any longer," he said disdainfully. With that, the fancy guy and his companion rode away.

That had been close! The guy was more violent than Gaston had thought. Probably head over heels in love with Belle, he thought, rolling his eyes. Well, he can't have her. Belle is mine. He touched his throat gingerly and saw a drop of blood on his fingers.

Whoever this stranger was, he had to be taken care of. He had to stay miles away from Montville and the asylum. Gaston couldn't have some stranger snooping around. It was impossible that that guy would find Belle. But just in case…

"Lefou, go to my house and saddle Magnifique," he said , heading back toward the village.

"You don't want to go hunting?" Lefou asked in surprise, hurrying after Gaston.

"Not now. I need to pick up something."


"And therefore?"

"And therefore, it is not possible for a beast to survive in a castle all on its own," Belle finished the sentence. She put down her quill and rubbed her eyes.

It was the third day now that Madame Beaumont had called her to her office and made her write down over and over that the Beast didn't exist, that it was only her imagination. With every line it became more and more impossible for Belle to believe what she thought was true. It seemed long ago. Like something from a dream.

"That will be all for today, Belle," Madame said as she sat down behind her desk. She had been pacing up and down her office, dictating to Belle or asking questions. She took the quill and paper from Belle and gave her an approving nod. "You are doing very well, Belle. Finish your tea."

Obediently, Belle took the cup, but wrinkled her nose when she smelt the drink. "It smells unusual."

"You keep saying that, but it's just tea," Madame answered without looking up from her papers. "The water is coming from a different well than you have at home."

"But still-"

"You are really making progress, Belle, don't ruin it by getting suspicious over a cup of tea," Madame put down the papers and looked at Belle. "This afternoon I plan to discuss with Monsieur d'Arque when you can leave the asylum."

Without hesitating, Belle drank her cup of tea in one gulp.

An hour later Belle dragged herself across the garden. She hadn't had a decent night of sleep for two nights now. The cold and her thoughts kept her awake.

In some ways Madame Beaumont had a point: fairytales didn't happen in real life. There were no witches or fairies, no enchantresses deciding over good and evil. Princes in disguise didn't come by in a normal girl's life.

But it had felt so real. Dining, laughing, dancing with Adam... She could still feel the fur of Adam's paws holding her hands when he had showed her the library. She could still see the affection for her in his eyes when he told her she should go back to her father.

Wait, that's odd. You were held prisoner because you traded places with your father. And then…he releases you to go that same father? Come on, Belle, that doesn't make sense.

Only, if it wasn't true, if it hadn't really happened… Then what was I doing all that time? And how long was it? How long was I in the castle? Was it days, weeks, months? She couldn't remember. It was all a blur. Lately it seemed so hard to think…

Belle sighed. Trying to make sense of all the events didn't work. It didn't make sense. She looked to her side and noticed that Stella wasn't walking next to her anymore. She turned and saw Stella staring open-mouthed at the gate of the asylum garden.

"Oh wow…" Stella muttered softly.

'Oh wow?' You mean 'Oh no'! Belle thought, distressed. This was not what she was in the mood for! She jumped behind the nearest tree and quickly beckoned Stella to come over, to hide as well. Only problem: Stella didn't understand what she meant.

Stella started laughing. "You have to tell me when you want to play hide and seek! Now I already know where you are!" She turned around, put her hands before her eyes and started counting. "One, two, three, four, five-"

"Stella, get over here! I'm not playing," Belle hissed through teeth. "Do you see that man next to Madame Beaumont?"

"Yes!" Stella nodded enthusiastically. She pointed in his direction and waved. "He's so dreamy!"

Belle came out of her hiding place, pulled Stella behind the tree. "That's the man who brought me here! He wants to marry me!"

"And you don't?" Stella said, surprised. She looked around the tree and took another look at Gaston. She looked back at Belle with disbelief in her eyes. "You don't want to marry that guy? Are you crazy?"

"DON'T SAY THAT WORD! I'M NOT CR-" Belle snapped, at the same time realized that she was drawing attention to herself. "I'm not crazy."

"But look at him! How could you refuse him? Look at that smile! That hair! Those very very very tight pants!"

"Yes, he's gorgeous! The problem is he knows he's gorgeous and-"

"Why is that a problem?" Stella interrupted with a shrug. "It's false modesty for him to say he's not."

"That's not the point! He locked me up in this limbo!"

"If you refused to marry him, you need to be locked up!"

Belle closed her eyes, slowly counting to ten. Even if Adam and the castle and everything that had happened was just her imagination, that didn't mean that refusing Gaston's proposal was crazy. There was nothing between them. There never was. "What's happening now?" she asked, not wanting to look.

"He's coming over!"

"I'm not here!" Belle mouthed.

"Hello, you must be Stella," she heard Gaston say.

"Oui, monsieur," Stella said, sounding like she was on top of the world. "What's that on your throat? Did you get hurt?"

Gaston grinned, but didn't answer Stella's question. "Do you know where my fiancée is? She was around here Just a moment ago."

Please, Stella, don't say a thing, Belle begged silently.

Stella turned to Belle and embraced her tightly. "So you did accept his proposal! I knew you were only fooling around! Who in her right mind would ever turn down such a man!"

"You are a clever young lady," Gaston said with a smirk.

Thank you, Stella. Belle stepped from behind the tree. "I didn't accept anything."

"You have to remember the day I came to ask for your hand!" Gaston almost exclaimed, spreading his arms as if he was announcing it to the world. "You've said it was the day your dreams came true!"

"What could you possibly know about my dreams, Gaston?"

Gaston ignored her and went on. "I went into that basement where your father keeps all his inventions. I told Maurice how I feel about you." He paused for a second, looking away from her, as if he had to think about what he was going to say. He sighed and looked back at her. "It filled his old heart with joy to know that you would be taken care of, when he-"

Belle gasped and walked away from Gaston. She didn't want to listen to him or speak to him, but he couldn't talk about her father like that. How dare he talk about her father like that! In anger, she turned back to him and yelled: "You laugh at him, you think of him as the village idiot!"

Gaston grabbed her wrist and held her tightly. "Listen to me: Your father is an old man. Who is now in the hospital wing with a severe pneumonia." He let go of her and looked at her with disdain. "You didn't even ask about him."

Belle felt a pang of guilt going through her body. He was right. She should have asked about her father the moment she saw Gaston coming into the garden. She had only thought of her own problems instead of her father's condition.

"My father is really at the hospital wing?" Gaston nodded. For one more moment she hesitated whether or not she should believe him. She had no other choice. "How is he doing?"

"It's not looking good, Belle. The doctor visits him daily, but he isn't very optimistic."

Belle closed her eyes. She felt awful. "Can I see him?"

"Not in the condition you are in now. It would break your father's heart to see you like this."

"He does know I'm here, doesn't he?" Belle asked.

Gaston crossed his arms, looking incredibly smug and pleased with himself. "I've told him that you have the same illness he has. And that you are away to recover."

Belle's mouth fell open. "You've told him what?" How could Gaston tell her father such lies! That was definitely not going to help him!

"I didn't want to upset him," Gaston explained with a shrug. "He doesn't need to hear exactly where you are staying."

"Oh," she said after a pause of confusion. That was unexpectedly kind of Gaston. Not like him at all. If it was true. She still wasn't convinced that Gaston would take care of her father. Monsieur d'Arque and Madame Beaumont had told her he had, but Gaston only acted kind when there was something in it for himself…if he could get something out of it.

"I'm thinking of both your welfares," Gaston said. "That's why your father was so happy when I told him that I was going to propose to you."

Belle shook her head. "No. The only time you proposed to me, I was alone and I threw you out."

"Belle, how can you forget the most romantic moment of your life? I'll refresh your memory," he said confidentially. He took her hands and led her to a bench standing against the asylum wall. He sat down and pulled her on his lap. "Close your eyes and picture this…"

Belle made a surprised face. "You want me to use my imagination?"

"Exactly." He kept holding her hands, making sure that there was no escape.

Should I scream? Or spit in his face again? Belle thought. No… they will probably put me in a straitjacket. Better wait and see what happens. Nothing he can say can make me change my mind. She sat back and tried to relax.

Gaston smiled and started talking. "Picture this: It's the end of a sunny afternoon when I come to pick you up at your father's house. I can read in your eyes that you are surprised to see me, since we saw each other only a few hours ago when you came back from the baker. I've bought you a croissant. Nice and warm, fresh from the oven. Just as you like it."

Wait. How does he know that I like warm croissants? Belle shifted restlessly on Gaston's lap. She was starting to get uncomfortable.

"I say to your father that I need to tell you something important. Curious as you are, you ask to know what is going on. I smile at you and sweep you off your feet. I carry you outside and lift you onto my noble steed."

Noble steed? He can't be talking about his horse; that animal is dangerous! I'd never sit on that horse! Unless someone would hold onto me…

"I know you don't like riding on a horse as temperamental as Magnifique, but I'm holding on to you tightly. You are safe in my arms."

How can he say the things I'm thinking? He can't know.

"You are thrilled when you see where we stopped. Your eyes light up. We are in the meadow on the hills. The view is amazing. I know how free you feel here."

He can't know how I feel. He can't. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but this is getting scary," Belle said, agitated. She tried to release herself from Gaston's grip, but he was too strong. "Let go of me!"

"I'm never letting you go, Belle. How can I, after all the happy times we've spend together?" He stroked her hair, murmuring soothingly, as though calming a skittish horse. "I know you, Belle. I know you don't go to the meadows just because of the view and the feeling of freedom. I know you go there because you feel lonely."

"I-"

"I know how hard it has been for you in the village. People talking about you. The whispers. The gossip."

It was true. She often went to the meadows when she felt trapped in the village. Whenever she heard the people gossip behind her back, she escaped to the meadows. Usually with a book, but not always. She could stare at those hills and the lake in the distance for hours, thinking about her life in the village and ways to get out. How can Gaston possibly know about the meadows? Did he see me there? Did he follow me? That must be it. He must have seen her there. It was on the way to the forest, after all. That must be it. He had just seen her there and jumped to conclusions.

It was simply not possible that she had told him how she felt. She and Gaston had never talked. Or did we? She couldn't think straight. Her mind was blurry. Could it be that there was truth in Gaston's words? He knew things about her. Did I talk to him? She couldn't remember it. There were some vague images in her mind of Gaston walking with her when she came from the bookstore. Like the memories with Adam, it felt long ago. Did I… And if I did, when and how…

"But things were getting better, when I started courting you."

Suddenly a memory came to Belle's mind. There was a day when she was on her way home from the bookstore. She had been reading while walking home. Although she was caught up in the story, she was still aware of the people talking. They called her beautiful, but odd, funny, different. She knew she didn't fit in, but hearing it every day was the thing that hurt. And then there was Gaston.

She couldn't remember what they had talked about, but she did remember that when Gaston talked to her, the other people went on with their lives. Some did stick around to listen to whatever he said, but they didn't gossip about him.

After every time Gaston talked to me, the people were more friendly to me afterwards, less hostile. Life became bearable. Thanks to Gaston? That would be a reason to talk to him. To bond. Was it my way to survive the village?

Gaston let go of her hands and placed his hand on her cheek. Gently he turned her face back to his. "I'm here, sweetheart," he said softly. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, still smiling at her. "Stay with the story."

When her eyes met his, he smiled at her. It was a different smile than usual. It was sincere and also concerned. He didn't look like Gaston. She could see that he was looking for something in her eyes. It was confusing.

"How?" she said with a tremble in her voice. "When?"

"Shhh… Don't upset yourself," he whispered as he kissed her forehead. "As we are looking at the view, you sigh that you could stay here forever."

Gaston put his arm around her. Confused, Belle let her head rest on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The sound of his deep voice was soothing. Almost as clear as day she could see the pictures that Gaston described. She saw the sunset and she could feel a soft breeze.

"I stand behind you. I move your hair to the other side and kiss your neck."

While Gaston was talking, she felt something tingling on her neck. A little bit of soft pressure. She wasn't sure if it was imagination or a memory.

"You giggle softly and lean back against my chest. I go down on one knee and take your hand. There are tears in the corner of your eyes."

Belle looked up to him when he paused. He smiled at her.

"You looked so beautiful," he said as he smiled back to her. "You happily give your consent. We kiss and you say that this is the most beautiful moment of your life. Exactly as you had always pictured it. Exactly as it was in your books."

It did sound like one of her books. The happy ending came with the hero and heroine in some place that was beautiful and simply perfect. There they talked about everything they had been through together… then the moment of silence, and then he would propose. And they always lived happily ever after.

"The evening falls and as we return to the village, we ride off into the sunset."

"Oh wow…" Stella sighed. "That's so romantic!"

Belle looked around and saw that half of the patients and most of the staff members had been listening to Gaston's story. She had forgotten where she was. It had been like Gaston was talking only to her.

"Please tell me that you remember some of it."

This story was full of details. She didn't know what to believe. There were familiar things in everything Gaston had just said. And he didn't have any imagination. He wasn't able to make everything up. When he was bragging about his hunting trophies, he only exaggerated.

Belle's mind was racing. She couldn't make head or tail of it. The big question was: Could it be true? If it could be true, then maybe it was true. Then why didn't it feel right?

"Belle?" Gaston said softly.

"I… I'm tired," Belle answered. She tried to think quickly, but she couldn't say anything.

"I know, sweetheart," Gaston said as he reached into his bag. "I've brought you something." He took a large object out of his bag.

"The mirror!" Belle exclaimed. She pulled the mirror out of Gaston's hands and jumped up. This was her way out! Everything Gaston had just told her didn't matter anymore. Maybe they were engaged, maybe not. At least now she could prove that Adam and the castle existed...that she wasn't crazy! "Show me the Beast!"

Come on! Show me Adam! Show them that everything I've said is true! Only the mirror didn't show her anything. Nothing happened. Not even a spark. Belle stared in dismay. This wasn't good. It wasn't supposed to go like this. She was supposed to see the Beast. "Show me the Beast! Please…"

No… please, show me Adam, she begged mentally. It didn't help. The glass in the mirror stayed the way it was. All she saw was her own reflection. She sank down in the grass and started to cry. No Beast. No castle. Nothing. Her only way out. Gone. "It had magic powers!" she sobbed.

Gaston knelt down next to her and took her in his arms. "It's just a mirror, sweetheart. I brought it to you as a gift."

"You broke the glass! I saw you break it."

Gaston didn't say a thing. He just shook his head.

Belle put her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. This was it. She was now officially crazy. A fool. She had made up a beast in a castle. A beast that was kind and noble and understood her. Like an imaginary friend a five-year-old has. She had always known so perfectly well what was good and bad; she had always thought she could see through people. Knowing more than others. In a way, feeling better than other people. But now it turned out that she had it all wrong.

"What is happening to me?" she whispered.

"You are a bit disoriented, sweetheart." Gaston wiped the hair out of Belle's face. "That's why you are here: to get better."

"I was in his castle. I danced with him," she said with pain in her heart,. trying one more time to make it sound believable. "I rested my head on his chest. I felt his heartbeat."

Gaston gave her a pitying smile. He helped her up and placed his hand around her waist. He pulled her in and gently pushed her head against his chest. He took her hand in his, slowly moving around as if they were dancing. "Like this?"

Belle nodded. She heard Gaston's steady heartbeat. It somehow felt familiar. She looked at Gaston's hand holding hers. For a moment she saw Adam's paw. Then she blinked and she saw Gaston's hand again. His hand was almost as big as Adam's. His chest was almost as broad as Adam's.

No. Adam didn't exist. He wasn't real. He was just a figment of her imagination.

"You are thinking of the harvest dance a few weeks ago, the evening before we got engaged. We danced till the sun came up," Gaston whispered to her. He stopped moving and took a step back. He lifted her chin to face him. "You were always walking around with your head in the clouds. It's time to come back to earth, Belle."

"I want to go home," she said softly.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," Gaston sighed. He put his arm around her and walked back to the gate. "But you've only been here for a few days. It might be too soon."

Belle released herself from his grip and started to walk in front of him, facing him. She walked backwards till she ended with her back against the gate. "Take me away from this place!"

Gaston pushed her away from the gate and opened it. "I have to go."

"Please take me with you!" Belle said she said with tears in her eyes. She clasped herself to him. "I'm sorry about everything I've said, Gaston!"

"I'll talk to Paul about it," Gaston said with a smile. He removed her arms and went through the gate.

Two nuns held Belle's arms and pulled her away from the gate. "When will you be back?" she asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon," Gaston unleashed the reins of his horse from the tree. He adjusted his gloves before he mounted the horse.

"I'll look forward to your visit," Belle whispered.

Whistling, Gaston rode to the main road of the asylum. What a wonderful day it was. He had said exactly the right thing to make Belle come to him. She was already looking forward to seeing him again. One more day, maybe two, but by the end of this week, Belle would be his bride. He really should pay a visit to the priest, to take care of a few arrangements.

"Monsieur de Soleil!"

Gaston stopped and turned around. There was the head of Belle's department. "Madame Beaumont, how can I help you?" he said with a smile. Nothing or no one could ruin his mood.

"I've been putting the laudanum in her tea, every day," Madame said as she held out her hand. "You've seen how calm she is now and, how shall I say it… more willing to turn back into the girl you proposed to."

"It's your job to help these poor unfortunate souls," Gaston said with a shrug. The woman had helped him reach his goals, but he was already paying Paul.

Madame took a hold of the horse's halter, looking up at Gaston. "Yes, and I should be paid for my extra efforts," she emphasized.

" Go to Paul," he said as he pulled the reins. "I've already given him something to cover the expenses."

Madame didn't let go. "She is making great progress, thanks to me. She knows now that her stories about that beast only exist in her imagination."

"Oh, all right. Because I'm in such a good mood. Here," Gaston said as he rolled his eyes. He reached into his money bag and handed her the money. What did it matter, those few coins? Belle wouldn't stay long in the Maison.

Now all he had to do was to make sure they were married as soon as Belle was back. The stranger from this afternoon shouldn't get a chance. As soon as Belle was his wife, that stranger, whoever he was, couldn't get to Belle.

"If somebody comes and asks about her, tell him that she's not there. And if that happens I want to be notified immediately!"