There was a book beside the prince; was he as much of a book lover as Belle? His Highness was throwing pebbles into the lake and looking at the circles on the surface.

"You're throwing it wrong, Your Grace, or whatever your name is..." Gaston plopped down beside him and picked up a stone and threw it parallel to the surface of the lake so that it bounced four times before sinking into the water.

"No one skimming stones like Gaston," the hunter grinned, leaning back and looking up at the sky. His whole life was crumbling like a house of cards, and yet the evening was warm, pleasant, and completely idyllic. Gaston turned his head, looking closer and closer at the prince.

All of his virtues were immediately devalued in front of Prince Adam. The good hunting lodge in front of the castle was a pitiful hut, the money he had was ridiculous in relation to the prince's abilities. What could he offer Belle? A simple life in the town only slightly different from the countryside, when she could have a social life, attend balls or whatever the aristocrats did?

And even his boasted handsomeness and strength were losing out to the prince. Gaston chased those thoughts away, but what could he say - the prince was handsome. Exactly the kind that romantic girls like.

He could console himself with the fact that Belle called him, Gaston, handsome and even kissed and hugged him of her own free will, but there was no other man around. Seriously, there were no men in the whole town to make the heart of a girl like Belle flutter.

Gaston was just the one to be around, circumstances forced her to be around him, but on second thought, did Belle really like his raw handsomeness? Belle was no ordinary country girl to squeal with delight at the sight of his hairy chest and over pumped muscles. Oh, no, a girl as delicate and airy as Belle needs a prince charming with skin as smooth as a woman's and a pretty face.

Damn! And if he was at least internally a bastard, some scoundrel... But Belle was friends with him, when outwardly he was bewitched, so his character is suitable for Belle. And Gaston's own character was...

Come to think of it, this month or so, Gaston's been behaving differently than usual. He'd just been alone with Belle, and he'd gone hunting, and then there was that thing with the sea. Gaston never got drunk. Not once did he go home with a bunch of friends, singing songs. Expecting, by the way, that the fun would continue at home. Never got into a fight. What, Belle would have liked his usual behavior? Cheer for him when he entered a spitting contest? Would she have laughed along with him when he and Lefou foolishly threw apples at passersby? No, he was very different with her, and of course she could like him that way. But you can't pretend to be someone else your whole life, and one day she would just be infuriated by his simple pleasures and hobbies.

"What's the matter with you?" The prince asked, and Gaston woke up from his unhappy thoughts.

"Why didn't you say you knew her?" the hunter asked softly.

The prince turned away and looked at the lake.

"I shouldn't have said that. I mean, she's married. I tell you, I would never have looked for her if I had known that."

"Married, yes..." echoed the hunter.

The prince fidgeted and began to tear at the grass near where he sat, reminiscing:

"She was looking for her father. The fool decided to look at the beast, so I got angry and locked him in the dungeon. She offered herself in his place."

"Here, we are alike," Gaston whistled. The prince's words confirmed Chip's story. "How fortunate that little Belle loves her crazy old father. She'd do anything for him. And at first it seems like a great idea..."

His Highness turned his head and looked at Gaston.

- It seems like a great idea to keep her by one's side, if only for a little while," the prince continued quietly.

"And then it's not so much fun," Gaston lay down on the grass with his hands behind his head and began to look at the clouds. "Why did you let her go?" He asked after a little silence.

"I had to," the prince said sadly after a while.

Gaston raised himself on his elbow and looked at his face.

"But why did she leave?" Gaston began to inquire. "Appearance had never mattered to her."

The prince lowered his head:

"Her father was in trouble. She went to help him and never came back. And who am I kidding, I don't think she felt about me the way I felt about her. She was kind to me and taught me a lot. I never expected her to come back. I only came looking for her to find out she was all right."

"Her father again," said Gaston, and began to pluck the grass. "Why don't you say anything?" He suddenly asked with irritation. "Why don't you try to make it easier for me, like letting her go?! Say, say that she was better off with you than with me, that you understood her, that she-that she had feelings for you..."

"But why?"he prince raised his eyebrows. "That is no longer important. Whatever she felt then, for me, she came back here and married. It's cruel to put Belle through that choice. She'd never do anything to make anyone unhappy. She's already done too much for me... She treated me like a human being, and I became a human being."

Gaston turned away:

"We had nothing. She only got married because I threatened to put her father in an asylum," he was silent and, without waiting for an answer, asked: "why are you silent again? You won't even say anything? You must talk to Belle yourself. She's too proud herself and she won't leave me. She won't. She's got a psycho father who's a genius and me, a scoundrel, her favorite husband. Even if her whole life goes to ruin, she'll pretend to be happy."

The prince stood up.

"If you realized that you were a scoundrel, then you are no more," he got up and wanted to leave, but Gaston grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Just talk to her. If she loved you then, you can talk her into taking you back. She'll be better off with you."

The book fell out of the prince's hands, and Gaston saw the familiar picture on its cover.

"Romeo and Juliet?" he asked, feeling cold inside.

"Yes," the prince answered briefly.

"What is your favorite book? Do you like to read? Or... Or was it she who read the book to you?" A terrible hunch flashed through Gaston's mind, and he looked his rival straight in the eye.

He was silent, and that silence was more eloquent than any words.

"And she never read the book to me," said Gaston bitterly. "You see why you must talk to her. You had true love with her. You understood each other. I don't understand her at all. You must fight for her. Like in the books. They always fight for true love."

Prince Adam took a step back and clenched his temples with his hands:

"Shut up, shut up! How can you say such things!"

"Do you think it's easy, saying these things?"

"Shut up," the prince wrinkled his nose as if in pain. "I will never do that, don't you understand? Why do you talk to me about her? It's a real torture."

"Why?"

The prince clenched his fists and said already with irritation and almost with rage:

"Don't you understand? You told me yourself that you can't take a simple man's wife. I have no right to do it. I have no right to put Belle through that choice. I have no right to ruin your life."

"Why not? You're a prince, you can do anything."

"That's why I can't," he paused and said sadly but softly. "You used to talk about her like that... About what she was like. I would have said the same thing. And I realized that if she'd opened up to you like that.."