Gaston put the lingerie and books back in their places, opened the latch of the door, and walked back into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, hugging the pillow. His head didn't work at all. A sleepless night and a restless day he was too tired.

Belle hadn't told him she'd been to the castle before. She had discouraged him from going there for a reason. He wonder why? Worried about its inhabitants? Someone special? Gaston had said he'd take a gun...

His mind was a mess.

He rubbed his cheek against the pillow. He and Belle had been so anxious to get home, but now it was getting unsettled at home, too. What the hell was he supposed to do?

The front door slammed - Belle was back. She called out to Gaston, and he answered. She came and sat next to him on the bed. Stroked his head like he was a kid:

"Are you tired at all? Now, I'll make a quick meal."

She went to prepare dinner.

Gaston rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. A vague uneasiness was growing, and he chased the gloomy thoughts away.

Belle... It was not good, surely, to be so dependent on a person, on a woman. Gaston had always left women first and never understood why one could not accept the words of parting with dignity. Why weep, clinging to his shirt, and even to his feet, why guard him in the street ... Why not just let go and live on?

But right now, even the phantom threat of losing Belle was robbing him of his strength and driving him crazy.

Maybe he's too nervous. It's been a hell of a trip, so he's on edge. There's no clear evidence, but even if Belle was in the castle, maybe she only spoke to the servants. A prince wouldn't talk to a simple girl. Even if there was something wrong with him. That only happens in fairy tales.

Belle rattled the dishes, and Gaston thought how happy he would be if they were alone in the whole world and nothing could keep them apart. Just a dream.

"Are you coming?" his wife shouted from the kitchen.

"Yes, yes," the hunter stood up and went into the kitchen.

Belle put the food on plates and sat down at the table. They ate in silence for a while, and then Belle said:

"Gaston, you know I wanted to tell you something."

He grew cold inside, but outwardly remained calm and yawned widely, barely covering his mouth with the palm of his hand:

"Belle, I'm falling asleep. I haven't slept all night, and my head's a little dizzy. Let's do it tomorrow, eh?"

She nodded quickly:

"Yes, yes, of course, let's do it tomorrow."

Belle stayed to wash the dishes, and Gaston went back to the bedroom and lay down on the bed again. A longing in his chest tormented him. And he could not think of the best thing to do, what to say, how to act.

Maybe it would be better to leave.

Belle finished the dishes and came into the bedroom. Pushed him off the bed:

"Come on, get undressed and lie down normally," the girl pulled the covers off the bed and started fluffing the pillows. She cooed so sweetly, she was so homely.

Gaston looked at her in silence, at her graceful movements. His Belle... Was she his?

She felt his gaze and turned around:

"Come on, let's go to bed. You look so tired. "

He obediently pulled off his clothes and lay down, Belle taking off her dress. He'd be very happy now if there was no this damned castle. If Belle didn't have "something to tell." Everything would be different, and now all sorts of thoughts were going through his head like, "look-see while you can, these are the last moments she's with you."

Belle got into bed, climbed under the covers and pulled herself close to him. Her body was warm and soft, seemed so familiar. He didn't move, clutching his hands into the pillow. Belle leaned over him:

"Would you kiss me goodnight after all?"

"Sure."

He pulled himself up and, pulling her tightly against him, kissed her hair:

"That's my girl. Good night."

"Goodnight," she hugged him too, touching her warm palms to his bare back."

Belle blew out the candle, Gaston pretended to snore after a while and heard his wife crying.

It's great. Really great.

...

The next morning, Gaston kept diverting Belle's attention so she wouldn't have that serious conversation. Without proper preparation, he didn't want to talk to her. He must be sure of himself before he listened to something terrible. He should send Lefou to the castle to find out the gossip. Or go there himself. But surely he must know more than he did now to know what to do. Gaston asked for one dish and another, distracted Belle with washing dishes, and the time was nearing noon when she finally got ready to go to the market. The market was closing in the afternoon, so there was no more time for Belle to talk. She picked up her basket and headed out the door.

Gaston gave her a glance from the porch and walked back into the house. He sat at the table, staring blankly out the window. There were no thoughts at all.

Suddenly he saw in the distance Chip, the boy from the castle, walking down the path toward their hunting cabin. What was he doing here?

Gaston gritted his teeth, and quickly realized what he had to do. He rushed to the porch and took his boots inside, and put Belle's shoes outside. That way, from the street, it would look like he was gone and Belle was home. If that was what this little bastarf wanted, it was the perfect trap.

The hunter opened the front door slightly and hid behind it. Indeed, not five minutes later, he heard cautious footsteps.

"Belle? Belle? Are you in here?" Chip stepped into the cabin.

Gaston slammed the door shut and leaned against it, blocking the way. He saw the boy's eyes round with horror.

"I warned you, little rat, stay away from us!" Gaston shut the door with a sharp movement and moved at the prince's little henchman. "Come here! Did the master send you? The holy man is not as simple as I thought?" The man reached out his hand, and as Chip dodged, he grabbed him and began to empty his pockets. "What, did you bring a note from the prince, you little shit? With an offer you can't refuse?" He roughly searched the shrieking boy. Finding nothing, he shook Chip by the shoulders. "What, did he give you lip service? Tell me what? Speak up, asshole! Say it word for word!"

Chip didn't say a word, so Gaston let him go and started unbuckling his belt:

"That's it, boy, you've had it. You've pissed me off. I'll yank you so that your own mother won't recognize you," he noted with satisfaction how the boy turned pale. Yes, this pampered servant had probably never even received a slap in the castle, and he thought it was so easy to do the errands of his master, the lecherous prince. It's all right. He'll find out now. Gaston folded his belt in half and flicked it in the air. "What, are you just going to keep quiet?"

Chip backed away:

"Nobody sent me! I did it myself!"

"By yourself..." Gaston came closer and pushed the boy to a stool. "Sit down. Tell me the story from the beginning. If you try anything funny, I swear you'll wish you'd never been born. Tell me..." Gaston tried hard, but his throat convulsed and his voice trembled. "Tell me how you met my wife."

"With Belle?"

"With Madame Gaston, you little bastard!" the hunter slammed his fist on the table in fury. "To you she's "Madame Gaston", to everyone else she is, even to your prince! You bastard! "Belle," "Belle," you have no right to disrespect her!"

The boy flinched, but looked him straight and firm in the eye:

"I respect Be- Madame Gaston."

"That's good. Go ahead and tell me everything."

Chip looked somewhere in the distance, as if a memory had swallowed him up. He spoke slowly and calmly, as if telling it not to the hunter, but to himself.

"I don't remember the time when I was a boy. A real boy. For as long as I can remember, I was cursed, like everyone in the castle. The castle was always dark, gloomy. I tried not to go anywhere, only to be in the kitchen, with my mother and the other children. We were used to it, accustomed to this life without colors, fun. It seemed normal. We were all afraid of the master and tried not to make him angry. When he broke things... It was better not to be around him. I always didn't like it when it was my turn to be... to be... to bring him his evening tea."

He fell silent, and Gaston hurried him on:

"Next?"

"One day everything changed. A guest came to the castle. We were so happy to be of service, we missed a real human being. It was an old man with a lush mustache."

Gaston scratched his chin:

"Was that Maurice, Madame Gaston's father?"

"Then we realized that it was. We didn't know it then. He was cold, so we offered him the master's chair. Mother and I brought tea... And then the master came."

"Prince Adam."

"Back then, we just called him "Master." Chip shivered. "He was very angry."

"And what did he do?"

"Put him in the dungeon. Master thought Maurice wanted to see what he was like. So he got very angry. And then came Be- Madame Gaston."