The peacock tasted like chicken or quail, nothing special, and the caviar was awfully salty. Gaston wasn't full at all, but he didn't want to try the exotic dishes, which were even stranger than the ones at the prince's castle. At least it was tasty there, if not for the use of numerous sauces, but here, apparently, Flor wanted to surprise rather than feed her guests. Gaston sighed with longing thinking about how he would have eaten at home when Belle put her famous roast on his plate. Well, he wouldn't be getting a proper roast for a long time. Belle didn't eat much either - apparently the peacock seemed inedible to her, and she listened politely to her neighbor, who was gossiping and drinking champagne.

Gaston leaned back in his chair and looked around. To his surprise, he noticed that the so-called ladies, were acting too relaxed. They were drinking champagne on a par with the men, not just a glass or two, but enough to make them blush, laugh gleefully and, what was even more surprising, flirt with their neighbors in a way that was just on the edge.

He turned to his neighbor to at least chat, so he wouldn't be bored, when suddenly he saw that he was fucking kissing his neighbor's naked shoulder. Then they started making out. Wow! Gaston turned his back to them so as to block this shocking sight from his wife.

It wasn't that he was a prude or a nun, but it was one thing to expect something like that, like in a tavern when everyone was drunk and taking liberties, and another thing to go to a fucking social gathering, get your hair done and stuff yourself in silks. There must be some rules of behavior! At Flor's dinner, it was like he'd been to a brothel. And yes, he would never allow his wife to visit such a place.

Belle's neighbor, already red from the immoderate libations, had apparently gone wild and, giggling shrilly, began to whisper something in Belle's ear, which made his wife's eyes widen like saucers. Gaston decided to put an end to it and, putting his hand on Belle's shoulder, said:

"Belle, darling, why don't we go out on the balcony for some fresh air?"

"Yes, yes, that's a great idea, I'm a little stuffy." Belle looked at her husband gratefully. "Excuse me," she turned to her neighbor, who had already turned to the man sitting next to her and began to whisper quickly in his ear.

They got up from the table and began to make their way to the balcony.

Dinner was over, but there was no dancing. The servants carried away the dirty dishes, and the guests moved into another room, Belle and Gaston having to abandon their intention and follow them. There the servants set up small tables draped in green cloth and brought in cards. Everyone, men and women alike, sat down to play this game of chance. Smoking paraphernalia was brought in. To the amazement of Gaston and Belle, not only the male guests smoked, but also the ladies. The servant girls entered the room and brought coffee and cognac. They were wearing - oh, they weren't wearing anything! A little white feathers covering their shame, but a lot of jewelry. Earrings, necklaces and bracelets on the girls sparkled in the candlelight, creating a strange contrast with their bare snow-white skin. Belle and Gaston declined the cognac, but took coffee, as they both had a headache from the noise and the stale air. No one paid attention to them, they were as if they were superfluous at this celebration of life.

The air was filled with alcoholic vapors and cigarette smoke. Some of the ladies, so to speak, sat on the men's laps. The shouts of the tipsy guests grew louder and louder as the various card games continued. Fingers lavishly adorned with massive rings counted out large wads of banknotes. The losers began to scandalize the winners - the amounts at stake were considerable, and the women squealed. And above it all towered Flor, who was already embracing the prince in an almost intimate embrace.

Belle and Gaston finally stepped out onto the balcony. The cool night air with the first snowflakes of the year refreshed them a little. Gaston threw his surtoute over his wife's shoulders. They were shockingly silent for a while, looking down at the carriages passing below.

Gaston took out his watch and looked at the time - he knew how to tell the time now. It was two hours to midnight.

"Why are they acting so... weir" Belle finally asked.

"Weird is not the word, Belle. It's like some kind of fucking brothel!"

Belle was indignant, her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head irritably:

"But it wasn't like that in the books! I've read so much about high society! The noble ladies and gentlemen, the dresses, the dancing, the etiquette... And this..."

Gaston, in spite of the absurdity of the situation, laughed loudly. Belle looked like a child who had tasted a candy and it turned out to be the wrong flavor.

"In books... Belle. Next time tell me what's in your books so I'm prepared for something completely opposite."

She pouted, and he kept laughing. But then he stopped talking and took out his gold watch again:

"When do you think it would be polite to leave here?"

"Let's leave right now. I'm disgusted to be here."

There was some frantic squealing, and Gaston and Belle looked out to see what was the matter. One of the "ladies" was being chased by a couple of drunken men, as if they were hunting her. The woman was laughing and squealing, everyone around them cackling. Finally, one of the men caught the woman and carried her out of the room on his shoulder.

Uh huh...

Belle stopped one of the servants and asked him:

"Excuse me, could you prepare a carriage for us and His Highness Prince Adam? I'm a little tired. And to convey my apologies and thanks to Madame Dubois."

The servant grinned and stepped away. Belle and Gaston returned to the balcony.

After about ten minutes, the servant approached them again.

"I have arranged for your carriage to be ready for departure. But I don't think you should disturb His Highness or Madame," he hummed vaguely, and Belle and Gaston looked for Adam as they walked back into the room from the balcony.

He was sitting at one of the card game tables and Flor was sitting on his lap. They were kissing. Adam had one arm around her waist and in the other he held a glass of cognac. It seemed someone had decided to become a man tonight.

"Let's not disturb the prince," Gaston sighed, putting his arm around Belle's shoulders and urging her to leave the room. "Tell him later, please, that we have gone to his apartment."

"It will be done, monsieur."

The coachman's whip clicked and the carriage moved off. Gaston slid back in his chair with relief and mussed his tousled hair. He looked out the carriage window like a mirror. Yes, it was prettier than when he'd combed it himself, without the hair lotions, but the lotions made his head itch. He had also loosened his neckerchief, or he'd suffocate. Where was his loose shirt with a proper collar? No, these social gatherings were not for him. Belle, for her part, asked him to loosen her corset. She, too, was tired of the cramped dress with the puffy, uncomfortable skirts. It was one thing to wear such a dress for a short time, but it was another to be in such clothes all day long. Belle had already tried, with visible irritation, to tuck in the puffy skirts that still took up half the carriage's space.

"I can't believe Adam would do that to Paulette!" Belle exclaimed.

"And what about Paulette?" Gaston asked, and his little wifey slapped his thigh with the palm of her hand.

Women always stand up for each other.

"Ow!" Gaston smiled, but then became serious. "He hadn't promised her anything. Let her be glad she didn't become a whore. The only good thing about

this whole trip is that while the prince is away, Paulette's chicken brains will maybe fall into proper place and she'll find herself a nice guy and, God willing, get married."

"Oh, Gaston, don't you believe in love between a prince and a mere girl?"

"Of course I believe in your wonderful ladies' stories!" Gaston made a gesture of reading a book.

"But in real life such a thing is impossible. If a man can't marry, what can he offer a girl? At the maximum - to be like Flor."

Belle looked out of the window, at the dark streets.

"But then - remember you said that if I wanted to, I could be with him? Would he have done that to me, too?"

It was a difficult and important question. But there was an answer.

"Belle, about you, I was sure he'd respect you. Any man would do anything for you," the man replied seriously. "He would have gotten some paper that you were related to some aristocrat. Though, as I realize now, that wouldn't have made you happy. You may look like a princess, but the aristocrats themselves, or even more likely their servants, will immediately recognize that you are not who you say you are. Even quicker servants than masters," Gaston added, remembering Marie-Hernestina's words about Belle. "But yes, for your sake he would do anything," he repeated.

"But why?" Belle wondered.

"It's hard to explain. You're special."

She considered his words for a while.

"He let me go to my father. Even though I promised to stay at the castle forever. That must have been very important to him. He'd been furious when all I'd wanted to do was touch the rose he kept under a glass hood in the West Wing. I guess it was all to do with his curse. But he let me go anyway."

They were silent for a while.

"But still, Gaston, how do you think he could forget that night we were all together? Do you remember?"

He remembered, of course he did. Their house, the smell of the wood warmed by the sun... The quiet crackling of the logs in the fireplace... Paulette's delicious pie on the table. A sweet chat with her and the prince about nothing. The feeling of home, family, friendship... And as a finishing touch to this day - Belle in his favorite chair reading one of her magical stories, and all three of them - the prince, Gaston and Paulette listening intently. God, do they need to be reminded of this now?

"I remember, of course, he's played with us, and enougth. Now he would have new, real friends. His level. And you and I, Belle, we should get home as soon as possible. It's snowing already. And I can't even imagine what our pets are going. Lefou will spoil them so much, they'll have to be punished every day."

"We'll have to borrow money from Adam."

"That's right."

And it was true. They were coming here at government expense, and Gaston had no money. How did he know it would turn out like this? So as soon as Adam had had enough, he'd have to ask him for money to get out of here. Enough to see Paris.