THE sheer agony that split through Belle's head was nearly unbearable. A pained moan left the young woman as she stirred awake. It took Belle a few minutes to open her eyes and when she did, she was struck with the realization that she was somewhere damp, cold, and smelled of mold. The previous events came flooding back to her in a wave of knowing so strong as she jolted upright and tried to lift her head to see.

But the moment she did, she felt black spots blinding her vision, and she felt the ground spinning.

"Ow," she moaned and pressed her face into her hands, though the moment she did, she jerked her hands back as though just touching her face had burned her skin. Her skin was searing hot and for a moment she thought she might have been feverish, but that was not what was so alarming to Belle now.

Trembling, she raised shaking slender fingers to her face and felt it.

She was sure, yes, she was sure she had...Yes, there it was.

Wiry little dark hairs that were beginning to sprout and cover her face.

She ran a hand through her long dark hair in anguish and when she touched the top of her head, she felt two strange little hard knots that she couldn't be sure at first what they were, but they felt like...horns.

She felt her eyes fling wide open and she wondered what horrific magic spell Agathe had cast upon her now.

"Agathe?" she whispered, running her tongue along the top wall of her teeth and winced as her tongue was instantly pricked by the feeling of what felt to her like…fangs. "What…I—I don't…I never….?" She trailed off, her voice trembling as she realized Agathe was far away and likely unable to protect her or answer any of her questions.

It was going to be up to her and her alone to find out what Agathe had just done to her and more importantly, figure out where on earth she now was. She wished she had a looking glass or even a shard from a broken… But Belle's thoughts trailed off as she thought she caught a glimpse of a shard in the furthermost corner of the cage she now found herself unceremoniously shoved in that someone had brought her here after she'd lost consciousness.

Probably the Prince, she thought bitterly to herself and scrambled for the chip of glass, crawling on her stomach to the other side of the cell to be able to reach it. She was sure she looked a pitiable and probably frightening sight.

Belle stretched for the glass with shaking fingers and felt the blood drain from her face as she looked upon the horrific fact that the top of her slender hand was covered in fur.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she groped for the shard of a piece of a broken mirror, holding it with trembling fingers and letting out a gasp of pain as one of the sharp corners of the shard accidentally nicked her palm.

She felt the warm trickling of blood as it began to drip steadily down her wrist. Belle did not want to look at the result of Agathe's magic and yet, she knew she would never forgive herself for being such a coward if she did not.

Perhaps…no matter how bad it would be, she could use whatever transformation her body had undergone to her advantage and it would do as Agathe had said it would and would dissuade the Prince's interest in keeping her a prisoner.

Trembling, Belle lifted the small shard of glass to her face, her brown eyes turning glossy as she looked upon the horror that had become her visage and the reason why the Prince had likely chosen to keep her captive.

Belle did not know what ungodly and demonic creature Agathe had turned her into, but she could only describe the monster that stared back at her as she looked into her reflection as a Beast.

She covered her mouth with a trembling hand and felt hot tears escape her eyes as she shook her head to herself.

She had hoped that Agathe would take away her beauty, yes, but…not quite like this. Fur now covered every inch of her body and a small pair of horns were now protruding from the top of her head. Her hair and eyes thankfully remained unchanged but it did little to disguise the fact she was a Beast.

Belle dropped the shard of glass and staggered backward away from the wretched glass that showed her what she had become, and she began to pray that there was a way to undo this.

She was beginning to wonder if perhaps she should have sacrificed whatever honor and dignity she still possessed and let the Prince do whatever it was he wanted to her. If it meant she did not have to suffer this horrible curse.

Her shoulders began to heave as they shook with silent sobs as she let herself believe that, until this curse could be lifted until she could speak with Agathe again and find out how to undo what she had done, this was to be her life now.

She began to scream.

MONSIEURS Cogsworth and Lumiere froze the moment they heard the hair-raising scream come from down below in the dungeons, the scream causing the hairs on the back of their neck to stand on end and it sounded worse than a banshee.

The two of them alongside Mrs. Potts and a handful of other servants had watched, horrified, as the witch at the gates had done something to the young lady in question.

And then, just before the girl had lost consciousness, the lass had transformed slowly into a Changeling Beast.

Neither one of them had seen anything like it. What was even more disturbing, however, was how the young master of the castle had insisted the lass be kept locked away in the dungeons in a cage, trapped, until he could speak with her.

Monsieur Cogsworth would be lying to himself if he did not admit the notion made him feel uneasy, as the girl was admittedly no maid that he recognized.

Where had she come from, then?

Cogsworth was still pondering this in his mind as he and Lumiere came to a halt in front of the Prince's private chambers in the West Wing of the castle. He raised his knuckles on the post of the door to announce himself, though there was no need as the door was already cracked open.

The young Prince, whose back was facing towards them as he stood in front of the fireplace in the room, sensed his servants' presence before he saw them and spoke harshly.

"Cogsworth. Lumiere. I called for you five minutes ago, you're very nearly late," he rasped and Lumiere and Cogsworth exchanged worried glances with one another and colored as the men saw no choice but to enter.

"Master, please forgive our tardiness," Lumiere spoke smoothly in a languid voice adapted by confidence over the years as he wrung his hands together. "We are…merely concerned about the young woman in the dungeons, she—"

"—Cannot be returned to her wretched hovel of a village, Lumiere, I will not be held responsible for what has happened to her, it is the witch's fault and hers alone. I would see the witch brought back here and hanged for what she has done, she has despoiled that young woman's beauty and turned her into that...that disgusting creature, that demon," the Prince barked with an angry snap to the young man's voice that made Lumiere look up in surprise.

His lips parted as if to speak, however, it took Lumiere a moment to find his voice as he processed the news of where their mysterious guest had come from.

"The…village? Master, please forgive me, but...do you mean to say that you found the girl in the village nearby?" Lumiere sounded numb as his mind struggled to process the implication of Prince Adam's words as the man spoke.

Lumiere felt the blood drain from his face as he turned towards Cogsworth and saw his esteemed and much older colleague shoot a hand upward to clutch at a fistful of his doublet and undershirt, going red in the face.

Lumiere cringed. He sincerely hoped the man was not about to suffer a complaint of the heart right here in the West Wing over this unexpected and shocking news that the Prince had apparently slipped out of the castle and his sight.

The Prince shot both servants a look of daggers that would have had Cogsworth and Lumiere pinned had he the capability.

"Of course, I found her in the village, and I tell you now, she cannot return home. Not in her…current state. No. She will remain here until a way to lift the witch's curse can be found. I will not take the blame for what has happened here. My head, scarred though it is, is much better left attached to my shoulders. I will not suffer the king's wrath."

Lumiere frowned and exchanged a look with Monsieur Cogsworth, silently trying to ask with his hazel eyes if his colleague was going to be okay.

Only when Cogsworth nodded feebly did Lumiere let out the breath he'd been holding and turned back to face the Prince with a quest to defend the poor villager.

He wrung his hands together even more nervously than before as Lumiere found his voice.

"Master, if that is to be the case then, I do not think anyone will fault you for what has happened here today, the fault lies with that woman at the gates and her alone, b-but…if you insist on her remaining here, then perhaps you could find it within your heart to grant her better accommodations? The dungeons are cold and no place for a lady, Beast though the girl now is."

As the Prince tilted his head to the side to shoot him a curious look, Lumiere paused. He felt some hope swell in his chest as though the master of the castle was looking at him and Cogsworth as though the men had lost their minds, the Prince did not outright refuse their request and as such, Lumiere had some hope.

It was a moment or two before Prince Adam spoke, his expression placid and thoughtful.

"I would be willing to entertain it, provided that I be the one to speak to her first, and that I would have your word as your bond that should anything go awry with this arrangement, you will be responsible for her."

Lumiere quickly nodded. Anything he and Cogsworth could do to help the poor unfortunate girl trapped down in the dungeons below he would, regardless of whether or not she forgave them or not.

"We will, sir," he said, lifting his chin and jutting it out in a bold move. "Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts and I...we will look after the girl. You have my word and our word is as good as our bond, master, you should know this of us by now, sir," he promised passionately, not even aware that his body had started to shake with the solemnity of his promise.

The Prince turned his head and stared blankly at the two men for a moment, his wintry blue eyes icy and almost menacing. The look stuffed the chills down their throats though neither Cogsworth nor Lumiere dared to speak.

"Very well," he grunted, begrudgingly, as he strode towards the door, though not before pausing to glance at his reflection in a mirror on the wall, giving his handsome reflection a satisfied little nod as he began to exit the West Wing with the intent to head to the dungeons. "But I will speak with her first. No one else is to enter the dungeons while I am there, and after I leave, you may move her to her new quarters in the East Wing. Something tells me I am going to need to keep an eye on the girl, as prickly as she is proving herself to be," he growled, speaking to his servants in a low voice that Cogsworth and Lumiere could only describe later to Mrs. Potts as a low wolfish growl.

Prince Adam vacated the West Wing before Cogsworth or Lumiere could stammer out their thanks that he was at least allowing the girl to leave the dungeons. The two men were quickly left alone to ponder the events of the last few moments and what was to come for the mademoiselle in the master's dungeons.

The men stared after the spot where the Prince had stood admiring his reflection a moment ago, almost seduced by his own appearance.

Both of them shook their heads, disgusted, their lips turning up into a collective sneer as they sighed and left the room.

They needed to tell the maids to prepare one of the spare guest rooms to allow the girl to stay in an available room.

If anyone were to stop and ask either Lumiere or Cogsworth what they thought, candidly, the men would have spoken in hushed whispers that it was the master of the castle, Prince Adam, who was becoming more and more like a Beast as the days passed him by, and not the young woman downstairs trapped in their dungeons like an animal.

Though they supposed that only time would tell whether or not this was to be the case. The men both sighed as they exited the West Wing and went on about their business, though not before poking their heads around the corner of the room before heading downstairs, hoping that the Prince was already down in the dungeons with her.

As far as they were concerned, it was indeed the master's fault that this had happened to her, but nothing more could be solved between the two of them if the Prince did not wish to converse with the girl and apologize to her.

They could only hope that he would do the right thing. And that he would.