There is to be a ball in a few months and Belle spends most of her time being bombarded by girls desperate for dresses As Shining As The Stars™ complete with Glass Slippers (which Belle feels would be both uncomfortable and dangerous—although she thinks the castle glass-blower probably enjoys the attention). It's not until the prince waltzes into her room without knocking that she realizes she will have to make his attire too. He struts around her room, looking mildly impressed by her bookshelf and a bit confused by Casey, who's growling at him from his nest under the bed. She rises from her curtsy when he turns back to her.

"I want my suit to be red, with silver trim and I want to look as human as possible." He demands.

She studies him, eyes sweeping his figure. Red and silver are certainly not the colors she would have chosen, and she's pretty certain making him look human is beyond her abilities, but she acquiesces anyway.

"Very well." She agrees, pulling out a measuring tape. His eyebrows skitter to his hairline.

"You're the girl who was with Sir Thomas the other day."

"Yes." She informs him calmly as she writes down measurements.

"You act like you're important, but really you're just a seamstress!"

She blinks at him, a little taken aback by his anger, before running a hand over her face. "You weren't supposed to remember that." She sighs, glancing up at him as he glowers before returning to her measurements. "Look," she states softly in an attempt to placate him. "I was just trying to save us all a few hours of exaggerated physics lectures. And knowing Tommy, he would have made sure it was really tedious and disconnected and confusing just because he was annoyed."

"Oh, how was he annoyed? I'm the one with the technicolor bedroom."

"Yes, well..." Her hand stops writing and she sets down her pen and turns to look at him properly, struggling to keep her voice level. "Presently I am on better terms with the castle than you, and I don't even live here regularly. Tommy wasn't about to anger her just because you were a little upset."

"Maybe," he growls, "if you and Sir Thomas didn't indulge her, She wouldn't be angry at me."

"She's a sentient being and you told her to stand still and be quite for a year." She snaps, and winces at the tone, closing her eyes and breathing deeply to calm down before she starts actually yelling at him. "Of course She's angry."

He glares at her in an attempt at intimidating. She stares right back, eyebrow raised in slight challenge. He eventually turns away, fangs no longer bared. "Aren't you afraid of me?" It's so soft, she almost doesn't hear him.

"What?"

"You don't seem afraid of me." He repeats, louder this time, turning back to face her.

"What just happened?" Belle sputters. "You were just angry and yelling and now you're," she searches for words and fails, "well...not."

"No, I-it's just that everyone else seems so afraid of me, other than Thomas of course, but he could probably roast me alive if he wanted, even the girls who are supposed to be my love interests think I'm frightening, but you," he shakes his head in disbelief, "you just argued with me." His voice takes on a soft, almost reverent tone. "You actually, willingly disagreed with me and told me without fear of retribution. Even when I was human that was rare, but now that I'm a Beast..."

"Oh." She picks up the measuring tape again. "Um, well as you mentioned, Tommy's not afraid of you."

"And?"

"Well, I have been friends with him for years, even back before he had full control over his magic, when he could have accidentally killed me or burned me or caught my house on fire. So, uh, by comparison, you're really not that frightening."

He stares at her with a strange expression. "I am a Beast, I could rip you apart with my bare hands if I wanted."

"That's the point, though."

"Huh?"

"You'd have to be angry enough to want to hurt me."

"Alright, what about the fact that I'm the prince."

"What about it?"

"I could have you banished, or executed or something."

"Would you?" She implores softly. Her gaze flickers to his eyes before returning to her work.

"Well no, probably not. But it's still a possibility."

She doesn't say anything, laughs at his petulant expression.

"Okay." He says tentatively, watching her with a look akin to wonder. As though he's never seen anything quite like her before and he finds her fascinating. She's not really certain how to respond to that look so she starts scribbling designs in her journal. "How does a seamstress become friends with the most powerful magician in the Kingdom, one of the most powerful in the entire Realm?"

"I wasn't always a seamstress."

"Oh?"

"Ummhumm." She hums through the pen cap in her mouth as she opens a book of fabric swatches for him to choose from. Risking a glance up at him.

"What were-"

She holds up a hand to stop him. "We are not here to discuss my personal life." The tone is strong and commanding (and in that moment he can see the girl who is so comfortable being friends with someone as dangerous as the Level 13 fire mage) and he finds himself willingly obeying, even as he considers her with amazement. "These are the red fabrics I have access to." She returns to her journal. "Personally, I think you would look much more attractive in blue and gold." She rips out the finished page hands it to him. "The outfit designs I think would be best."

He takes the paper, but keeps his eyes on her. "Would I really look better in blue?"

"Yes. It would bring out your eyes, which are the most human part of your present appearance, besides the color matches your fur better."

"Oh." He turns to the sketches and points to one. "And I will go with the blue and gold."