Gaston put away the lingerie and books back in their places, unlocked the door latch, and, walking back to the bedroom, collapsed on the bed, embracing the pillow. His mind wasn't functioning at all. A sleepless night and a restless day had left him utterly exhausted. Belle hadn't told him that she had been in the castle before. She didn't just dissuade him from going there for no reason. Why? Was she worried about its occupants? About someone special? Gaston had mentioned taking his gun... His head was a complete mess. He rubbed his cheek against the pillow. Both he and Belle had wanted to go back home, but now even home felt uneasy. What the hell was he supposed to do?

The front door slammed shut—Belle returned. She called out to Gaston, and he responded. She came in, sat down next to him on the bed, and stroked his head like a child:

"Feeling completely tired? I will be quick." She went to prepare dinner. Gaston rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Vague unease grew within him, and he tried to push away the dark thoughts. Belle... It wasn't right to be so dependent on a person, on a woman. Gaston had always been the one to leave women first and never understood why one couldn't gracefully accept the words of parting. Why cry, cling to a shirt, or even to legs, why guard him in the street... Why not just let go and continue living one's life?

But now, even the slightest threat of losing Belle drained his strength and drove him crazy. Perhaps he was worrying too much. The journey had been quite an ordeal, hence the frayed nerves. There were no concrete proofs, but even if Belle had been in the castle, maybe she only interacted with the servants there. The Prince wouldn't talk to a common girl. Even if there was something off about him. Such things only happen in fairy tales. Belle clattered with dishes, and Gaston thought about how happy he would be if they were alone in the world and nothing could ever separate them. Just a dream.

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

"Yes, yes," the hunter got up and walked into the kitchen.

Belle laid out the food on plates and sat at the table. They ate in silence for some time, and then Belle said:

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

He felt chilled inside, but outwardly remained calm and yawned widely, barely covering his mouth with his hand:

"Belle, I'm starting to fall asleep. I didn't sleep all night and my head is buzzing. Let's talk tomorrow, okay?"

She quickly nodded:

"Yes, yes, of course, let's talk tomorrow."

Belle stayed to wash the dishes, while Gaston returned to the bedroom and lay back on the bed. A sense of melancholy gnawed at him, and he couldn't figure out what to do, what to say, how to act. Maybe it would be better to just leave? Belle finished with the dishes and entered the bedroom. She nudged him off the bed:

"Get undressed and lie properly," the girl removed the blanket from the bed and began fluffing the pillows. She grumbled so cutely, she was so domestic. Gaston silently watched her, her graceful movements. His Belle... His or not? She felt his gaze and turned around:

"Come on, lie down quickly. You look exhausted." Obediently, he took off his clothes and lay down, while Belle removed her dress. He would have been very happy right now if it weren't for that damn castle. If only Belle didn't want to "tell him something". Everything would be different, and now various thoughts crept into his mind like, "Look while you can, these are the last moments when she's with you."

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

"How about giving me a goodnight kiss after all?"

"Of course."

He stood up, pulled her close, and kissed her hair:

"That's my girl. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she hugged him as well, her warm palms touching his bare back. Belle blew out the candle, and after a while, Gaston pretended to snore and heard his wife crying. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

...The next morning, Gaston kept interrupting Belle's attention, so she wouldn't start that serious conversation. He didn't want to talk to her without proper preparation. He needed to feel confident before hearing something dreadful. Lefou should be sent to the castle to gather rumors. Or maybe he should go there himself. But he definitely needed to know more than he did now to decide how to proceed. Gaston requested this or that dish, distracted Belle from washing the dishes, and as noon approached, she finally got ready to go to the market. The market closed after lunch, so Belle ran out with her basket. Gaston watched her from the porch and returned to the house. Sitting at the table, he stared blankly out the window, devoid of any thoughts.

Suddenly, he saw in the distance that Chip, that boy from the castle, was walking towards their hunting lodge on the path. What was he doing here? Gaston clenched his teeth and quickly realized what needed to be done. He sprinted to the porch and brought his boots inside, but placed Belle's shoes outside. From outside, it might appear as if he had left and Belle was home. If that's what this pup wanted, it was a perfect trap. Gaston cracked the front door open slightly and hid behind it. Sure enough, within five minutes, he heard cautious footsteps.

"Belle? Belle? Are you here?" Chip walked into the house.

Gaston slammed the door shut and leaned against it, blocking the passage. He saw the boy's eyes widen in horror.

"I warned you, rat, stay away from us!" Gaston swiftly locked the door latch and advanced towards the prince's little lackey. "Come here! What, did the master send you? Can't handle the saint as easily as you thought?" the man reached out and, despite Chip dodging, managed to grab him and started rifling through his pockets. "Did the prince send a note, you little scoundrel? With an offer you can't refuse?" He rudely searched the squealing boy. Finding nothing, he shook Chip by the shoulders. "Did he order you to deliver a message? What message? Speak, trash! Speak word for word!"

Chip stayed silent, so Gaston let him go and started unbuckling his belt:

"That's it, kid, you've gone too far. You've pushed me. I'll tear you apart so that your own mother won't recognize you," he noted with satisfaction how the boy paled. Yes, this pampered servant in the castle probably hasn't even received a slap and thinks it's easy to carry out his master's orders, that debauched prince. He would find out soon. Folding the belt in half, Gaston snapped it in the air. "Still staying silent?"

Chip stepped back:

"No one sent me! I came by myself!"

"By yourself..."Gaston moved closer and pushed the boy towards a stool. "Sit. Tell me everything from the beginning. Don't try to deceive me, I swear, you'll regret the day you were born. Tell me... " however hard Gaston tried, his throat tightened, and his voice quivered. "Tell me how you met my wife."

"Belle?"

"Madam Gaston, you little bastard!" the hunter pounded the table in rage. "To you, she's "Madam Gaston," for everyone, even for your prince! You don't have the right to disrespect her! "

The boy flinched but looked him squarely in the eyes:

"I respect Bel... Madam Gaston."

"That's good. Now, tell me."

Chip looked into the distance, as if lost in memories. 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 true boy. For as long as I can recall, I was cursed, like everyone in the castle. The castle was always dark, grim. We tried not to go anywhere and to be only in the kitchen, with my mom and the other children. We got used to this colorless, joyless life. It seemed normal. We were all afraid of the master and tried not to anger him unnecessarily. When he broke things... It was better not to be near him then. I never liked it when it was my turn to bring him his evening tea."

He fell silent, and Gaston urged him on:

"Go on?"

"One day, everything changed. A guest arrived at the castle. We were so excited to be useful, so yearning for a real person. It was an old man with luxurious mustaches."

Gaston scratched his chin:

"Was it Maurice, Madam Gaston's father?"

"Later we understood that it was. We didn't know that at the time. He was freezing, and we offered him the master's chair. My mom and I brought tea... And then the master arrived."

"Prince Adam."

"Back then, we just called him "master."Chip shuddered. "He was very angry."

"What did he do?"

"He locked him up in the dungeon. The master thought Maurice wanted to see what he was like. And he was very angry. And then Be... Madam Gaston arrived."