Nothing should be expected to happen quickly in government. And, as Cogsworth reflected on what felt like his hundredth harried journey between two of the farthest reaches of the castle, sometimes being the head of the prince's household meant you were the government. So why it had been seen fit, when he was already balancing his not inconsiderable regular duties with giving Lumière royalty lessons, to instruct him to plan for the royal couple's immediate departure on what had been given the almost unconscionably vague parameters of "an adventure", he could not begin to comprehend.
The prince and princess could not simply saddle up a couple of spare horses and pop out for a week or two. That wasn't how it worked. There were plans to be made, contingencies to be thought of, itineraries to be produced, to say nothing of security – except that they had refused it. Just outright refused to be accompanied by guards. The prince and princess, for heaven's sake! If he'd had any time at all to really think about it, the stress would probably have killed him. As it was, there was so much to do that he simply hadn't found a moment to let it overwhelm him. He was the Master's faithful servant and would follow his instructions without question. Well, not many questions. Questions did not meet with a positive response from the Master. But even without the threat of one of His Royal Highness' notorious rages, Cogsworth was, at the core, an English valet. Obedience and efficiency flowed through his veins. Discretion was his middle name. Or it might have been, but he kept it very quiet.
So, those of the household staff that could possibly be spared from their duties had been scrambled to form what it pleased Cogsworth to think of as an elite squad of men and women who acted as a well-oiled preparation machine. Outside, stable boys were preparing two strong and inelegant horses more used to work in maintaining the royal estate, while those used on ceremonial occasions languished in their stalls. Anyone who looked like he or she could handle a hammer had been drafted in to convert the cart used to transport supplies from the market on a banquet day into what was referred to in hushed tones as a caravan. The prince and princess in a caravan! You didn't have to be Cogsworth to find the notion unsettling.
"I'm not entirely sure I understand, dear." Mrs Potts gave Belle a searching look. She felt responsible, in a way. Belle had lacked a motherly influence from a very early age and, now that she loved her as much as she had always loved the young prince, she couldn't help feeling that it should have fallen to her, as the closest thing to a maternal figure in the poor girl's life, to iron out this strange crease in her personality.
Belle, looking flushed and harassed, stared out of one of the huge windows in the royal suite as she replied. "I don't know if I do, either. It just... feels right." She hesitated. It was a poor, flimsy excuse for the flurry of activity she had sparked, for dragging the crown prince out of his castle for a completely unplanned tour of the kingdom and she knew it. She couldn't have been more aware of it. Deep down inside, no matter how many gowns and precious stones she was decorated with, she was just a peasant girl. She shouldn't even be here.
"I see." Mrs Potts was one of very few people in the world whose kindly exterior covered only an even kindlier interior, gently marbled throughout with layers of love and goodness, so the remark was not a sarcastic one. She did see – at least, she saw the earnest look on Belle's face, had seen the quiet moments of reflection tinged with regret that had preceded it. It was as Lumière had said, only days ago – was it really so recent as all that? Belle wasn't happy.
Belle smoothed her skirts, then hesitantly met her friend's gaze. "Have I made a mistake?" she asked.
Mrs Potts' immediate instinct was to reassure her that she hadn't, but she paused to give the question serious thought. "Well... what exactly do you plan to do?"
Belle frowned. It was a difficult question. "Just..." She took a breath, her eyes straying to the window, to the great wide somewhere that beckoned, just out of reach. "Just go." She renewed her concentration. "We never go anywhere. I mean, I don't think he's been anywhere. Has he? He was trapped here all those years because of the curse and I know you can't get those years back, any of you, but now you're all supposed to be free and you're not because we're all stuck here. Sometimes I think—" But she stopped herself.
Mrs Potts took her hand and squeezed it gently. "What, dear?"
Unable to hold it in any longer, Belle plunged on. "Sometimes I think that the... the way he was, the way everyone was wasn't really the curse at all. I think – and I know this is a terrible thing to say and I know how lucky I am, I do, I swear – I think that it was royalty. Royalty cursed him. All this power and all these rules, we're all suffocated. I never knew him before the curse, I only know the change I saw, but I can't believe he's ever been really wicked. The Enchantress said herself that the curse was wrong. Who's to say that he wasn't the way he was because he was royal? What if he'd been just... oh, I don't know, a farm boy. A poor boy from a poor family who worked on the land to keep from starving. How could he have been spoiled then? How could he not have compassion for the unfortunate? And then if I'd met him and loved him..." She trailed off.
It had been quite a speech and might easily have lost its audience, but Mrs Potts could have listened for England. She gave her a little smile. "Then you might have gone off and had your adventures, yes?"
Belle massaged her temples. "Yes. No. I don't know. It's easy to say that when you're at the head of a banquet table every night, isn't it? But that's just it. That's what royalty's done to me. Now I'm spoiled too."
Mrs Potts took a moment to consider her answer. Then, leaning in, she said: "We're all just people. Prince, farm boy – either way, he's just a man. And you're just a woman. But you two are lucky, not because he's a prince, but because you know beyond all doubt that you love each other. The curse would never have broken otherwise. No matter what happens, you can both hold on to that. I trust you to take care of yourself and your husband when you have to, just as I trust him to take care of you. Now all you need to do is trust yourself."
Belle nodded, swallowed and pulled herself together. "Thank you," she said.
They left before dawn the next day. Belle rode in the driver's seat, clutching the reins in ivory-knuckled hands, cloak drawn tightly against the frosty morning air. The Beast rode in the covered cart, feeling curiously like luggage. The indignity did not escape him, but he made no comment. In fact, nothing much was said at all for the first few miles. Then, as familiarity began to fade behind them, Belle brought the horses to a halt at the edge of the forest. She slipped out of her seat and knocked on the side of the cart.
"Come and see this," she said.
He did so, hesitant but trusting. She took his paw in one hand and gestured with the other.
"Look," she said.
A wheat field stretched out before them, rendered grey by the murky light, but Belle had timed the stop perfectly. As they watched, a cloud that had been obscuring the first, orange-pink rays of the morning sun completed moved sedately away. The light washed over the silent field and painted it in deeper, richer and more varied versions of gold than even Midas could have imagined.
And for a moment, just a brief, stupid moment, they weren't a prince and a princess, or even a Beast and a beauty. They were just two people, standing as one, in the face of a sunrise.
Sorry for the delay! Real Life has been a demanding mistress for the last few weeks. I'm sorry also that nothing much happens in this chapter but, on reflection, it felt like too much of a jump to go straight from the last chapter into adventuring. And hey, at least I updated!
To "Sorry", an anon reviewer on the last chapter: I really wanted to write you a PM but obviously you're anon so I couldn't. And then it took me ages to update so you probably won't even see this but... damnit, I'm going to respond to you anyway! I thought you made a really interesting point. And, although I know you were making a criticism, I actually agree with you. I don't think Belle was entirely thinking about the Beast when she came up with this idea. It's more that everything came to a head for her and kind of exploded as "I want an adventure!" when it was actually a lot more complex than that. I hope I've addressed that a little bit more in this chapter, but at the end of the day... I actually don't think Belle is perfect. And now she's in an incredibly difficult situation. If you do have an account and just didn't want to use it because you were afraid I'd be like "OMG Y U FLAMEZ?", please send me a PM because I'd love to discuss this with you!