Near the prince lay a book; could it be that he was as much of a book lover as Belle? His Highness skipped stones into the lake, watching the ripples spread across the water.

"You're throwing it wrong, Your Lordship or whatever you call yourself..." Gaston flopped down next to him, picked up a stone, and threw it parallel to the lake's surface, making it skip four times before sinking.

"No one skips stones like Gaston," the hunter smirked, reclining and gazing at the sky. His whole life crumbled like a house of cards, yet the evening was warm, pleasant, and absolutely idyllic. Gaston turned his head, studying the prince closely and attentively. All his virtues were immediately devalued in the presence of Prince Adam. The sturdy hunting lodge in front of the castle now seemed like a miserable shack, his wealth was laughable compared to the prince's resources. What could he offer Belle? A simple life in the town, slightly different from the village, where one could lead a social life, attend balls, or do whatever aristocrats do?

Even his praised beauty and strength paled in comparison to the prince. Gaston pushed away these thoughts, but what can you say - the prince was handsome. Just the kind that romantic ladies would love. One could console oneself that Belle called him, Gaston, handsome and even kissed and hugged him willingly, but there was no other man by her side. Seriously, in the whole town, men weren't like the ones to make a girl like Belle's heart flutter.

Gaston was just the only one who was there; circumstances forced her to be with him. But if one thought about it, did Belle truly like his rough beauty? Belle wasn't an ordinary village girl to squeal with delight at the sight of hairy chest and pumped muscles. Oh no, for such a delicate and airy girl like Belle, a prince would be needed with skin as smooth as a woman's and a handsome face.

Damn! And even if he were inherently rotten, a scoundrel... But Belle befriended him even when he appeared hideous outwardly, meaning his character was suitable for Belle. And Gaston's own character... If one considered it, during this month and a bit, Gaston had behaved completely differently than usual. He was just alone with Belle, went hunting, and then came the incident with the sea. Gaston hadn't gotten drunk once. He hadn't brought a cheerful group of friends home to sing loudly. Expecting, by the way, that the fun would continue at home. He hadn't fought once. Would Belle have liked his usual behavior? Would she worry for him when he competed in spitting contests? Would she laugh with him when they and LeFou, fooling around, threw apples at passersby? No, he was different with her, and surely, that version of himself could appeal to her. But you couldn't pretend to be someone else your whole life, and one day, his simple joys and pastimes might just annoy her.

"What's wrong with you?" the prince asked, and Gaston snapped out of his gloomy thoughts.

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

The prince turned away and looked at the lake.

"I shouldn't have spoken of it. She got married. I'm telling you; I'd never have pursued her if I'd known."

"Got married, indeed…" echoed the hunter.

The prince wriggled and started pulling grass near where he sat, lost in memories:

"She was looking for her father. That fool decided to glance at the monster, I got angry and locked him in the dungeon. She offered herself in his place."

"Here, it turns out, we're similar, " whistled Gaston. The prince's words confirmed Chip's story. "How fortunate that little Belle loves her old loony father. She'll do anything for him. And at first, it seems like a great idea..."

His Highness turned his head, looking at Gaston more closely.

"It seems like a great idea to keep her close to you, even if briefly, " the prince continued quietly.

"And then things aren't as fun anymore," Gaston lay back on the grass, hands behind his head, gazing at the clouds. "Why did you let her go?" he eventually asked after a pause.

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

Gaston propped himself up on his elbow, looking at the prince's face.

"But why did she leave?" Gaston pressed on. "Appearance never mattered to her."

The prince hung his head:

"Her father was in trouble. She went to help him and didn't return. And who am I kidding, she probably didn't feel for me what I felt for her. She was kind to me and taught me many things. I never expected her to come back. I searched for her just to ensure she was alright."

"Hmm, her father again...," Gaston uttered and started plucking grass too. "Why are you silent?" he suddenly asked with irritation. "Why don't you try to make it easier for me - for example, let her go?! Speak up, tell her that she was better off with you than me, that you understood her, that she... that she had feelings for you..."

"But why?" raised an eyebrow the prince. "It doesn't matter anymore. Whatever she felt at the time for me, she returned here and got married. It's cruel to put Belle in such a dilemma. She would never do anything to make someone unhappy. She already did so much for me... She treated me like a person, and I became a better man because of her."

Gaston turned away:

"There was nothing between us. She got married only because I threatened to commit her father to the asylum," he paused and, not waiting for a response, asked. "Why are you silent again? Still won't say anything? You must talk to Belle yourself. She's too proud to walk away from me. She won't leave. Her father is a genius, and I'm a scoundrel - her beloved husband. Even if her whole life falls apart, she'll pretend to be happy."

The prince stood up.

"If you understand that you were a scoundrel, then you're not anymore," he rose and intended to leave, but Gaston grabbed his shoulder.

"Just talk to her. If she loved you then, you can persuade her and win her back. She'll be better with you."

The book slipped from the prince's hands, and Gaston saw a familiar picture on its cover.

"Romeo and Juliet?" he asked, feeling a chill run through him.

"Yes," the prince replied shortly.

"Your favorite book? Do you enjoy reading? Or... Or did she read this book to you?" a dreadful suspicion pierced Gaston's mind, and he looked his rival straight in the eyes.

He remained silent, and that silence spoke more eloquently than any words.

"And she never read me this book..." Gaston spoke bitterly. "That's why you must talk to her. You had true love with her. You understood each other. And I don't understand her at all. You must fight for her. Like in the books. In stories, they always fight for true love."

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

"Quiet, quiet! How can you say such things!"

"Imagine how tough it is for me to speak them?"

"Be quiet," the prince grimaced as if in pain. "I'd never do such a thing; don't you get it? Why do you speak to me about her? It's torture."

"Why?"

The prince clenched his fists and almost angrily said, "Don't you understand? Haven't you told me that taking a wife from a commoner is unacceptable? I have no right to do it. I have no right to put Belle in such a position. I have no right to wreck your life."

"Why? You're a prince; you can do anything."

"That's precisely why I can't," he paused and spoke sadly but gently. "You spoke highly of her... Of who she is. I'd use the same words. And I realized that if she revealed herself to you so much, then..."