At Tom's insistence, Belle accompanies him to breakfast in the kitchens the next morning where he stands on one of the central tables and demands the room's attention. He explains her acquaintance with the prince and the possible uncomfortable consequences. Much to Belle's surprise the servants are already aware of the situation and have come up with their own solution.

"Hopefully none of the girl will revert to physical violence, but it is best to be prepared, so I will train you in combat." Cogsworth offers.

"Um." Is the only replay she can muster as she eyes the man skeptically, gaze lingering on the overabundance of frills on his sleeves and generous waistline.

"It will be magnifique." Lumiere states, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Cogsworth will teach you swords, and I will teach karate. You will be a defense master."

"Uh, I..." She's not really sure how to reply. Lumiere is reed thin and looks like he spends more time on his hair than any sort of combat training, but Tom is smirking at her in a way that quite clearly shows he knows something she does not. "Thanks."

!

Tom's obvious worry for her appears to have improved opinions of him because she finds the mage in the stables with Lumiere discussing possible locations for her combat training.

"Why don't we just ask the castle where a good room is?" She interjects.

"We didn't think of that." Lumiere states.

"I'll go ask her, and we can start training after dinner." Tom leaves with a nod at the stable master, who smiles back.

The weather is warm and Belle enjoys riding until it's interrupted by some of the contestants seeking lessons of their own.

Deciding it's far too nice a day to stay inside (but ultimately feeling it best not to antagonize the girls by staying), she gathers some books from the library and sneaks them down to the lake.

!

"I believe this belongs to you."

Belle looks up from her notebook to see the prince with an expression bordering between amusement and anger, Casey's lid clamped on his pant leg.

She snorts on a laugh and has to bit her lip to regain composure. "Casey," she states sternly once she's calmed. "Drop."

The suitcase releases the fabric and sits back. Belle pats him on the head.

"What exactly is that?" He fiddles with the torn cloth on his leg as he settles on the slightly damp sand.

"He's a suitcase," She deadpans.

"With legs?"

"Yep." She smiles at his expression. "Tommy and I made him years ago."

"I didn't realize you have magic."

"I don't. Just theory. It gives me a different perspective, because I'm not bound by a specific field of magic so Tom tends to ask my opinion."

"I've never learned any. It was always considered more important for me to learn politics."

"I noticed the limited number of magic books in the Library." She smirks at him, but softens into a smile at his sheepish expression. "It seems a little strange to me that in a magic kingdom you wouldn't at least have some books about the politics involved in the magic guilds."

"Certainly would have helped me."

"How?"

He gives her a withering look.

"Oh, right. Beast Syndrome."

He blinks at her in surprise before he starts laughing. Belle jumps at the sound, which is more reminiscent of growling barks than human laughter, but eventually joins him.

"Alright, I admit, I deserved that."

"How did you not remember?" He asks.

She shrugs. "I have a pet suitcase. My best friend tends to catch on fire, and I have a few friends who are-."

"Belle!" A shout interrupts. "You absolutely must go to the drawbridge. There's a visitor for you and if you don't come now there's going to be a problem."

"Whoa, hold on Shane. Calm down, I'll go now." She places a soothing hand on the trembling man's arm. as they walk. "Now, who is it I need to see?"

"I'm not sure you'd believe me."

"Well it might help if I have some warning..." but she trails off when she notices who's standing by the bridge.

It's a dragon.

She hears the prince growl behind her, but she swats at his arm and hisses, "Stop that," before stepping forward and giving a bow.

"Marchak, it's a pleasure to see you."

"You as well, Duchess."

"The Duchess was my mother, and you are well aware that title passed to my Aunt Mary, besides, you know I hate formality amongst friends." She states, smiling at the dragon, who bares his teeth in a grin that would be terrifying if she didn't know him so well and kneels down so she can run her fingers over his wings in a friendly pat.

The prince is staring at her with a rather gobsmacked expression and she wonders if she should time how long it takes for him to get words past his still open mouth. 137 seconds of waiting and desperately attempting to control her smirking, he speaks.

"So." He squeaks, clears his throat, tries again. "So, I suppose," he stutters, "in comparison to dragons and fire mages I really am quite boring."

"Not boring, per-say." The girl shrugs, "Just not intimidating." She smiles at him, grateful he's so focused on the dragon, he didn't notice the mention of her mother's title. "I will take my leave now, I should get Marchak something to eat he's had a long flight and we need to find Tom and discuss the improvements to that fireproofing spell."

"Wait, you can't just leave." He yelps.

"I can't?"

"No, you-I...ugh." He throws up his hands, exasperated. "There is a dragon in the castle, here to meet you, and you don't think I should be there for that?"

"Not really." She sighs. "It isn't any of your concern. Marchak is my friend and he is here as a favor to me." The prince continues to glare at her and she rolls her eyes. "Anyway Highness, you should be spending time with the contestants. Some of them are starting to notice you're avoiding them and spending time with me. It's going to cause me trouble."

"What? How?"

"Just because I'm aware that these conversations don't actually mean anything," He flinches at her remark. (She doesn't notice, but the dragon does.) "doesn't mean others don't assume there's something there. Unless you can find a way to convince the other girls I'm not a threat to their possible future with you, we really shouldn't talk that often." She turns to the dragon who is eyeing the two speculatively. "Come on Marchak, let's go see what we can find as a snack for you." The dragon nods in assent, gives the prince one last calculating look and follows her, but the prince remains glued to his spot staring after them.