For some time, they remained silent. Gaston pondered what to say; he was quite surprised that the prince was, how should he put it... not a fighter. He had no intention of fighting whatsoever, and that was confusing. It was wrong. The hunter gazed at the lake, its surface glistening in the sun like precious gems. He spoke softly, as if speaking to himself:

"I always won, always. At first, I did everything possible to be first, then at some point, I realized that everyone expected victory from me. I couldn't come out of the forest without prey anymore; I couldn't... I don't know, relax somewhere, be an ordinary person. The whole town called me a hero, and I had to live up to it. But even a town hero cannot always win. So, gradually, I began simplifying my life - where I could win, I did, where I couldn't, or where something required more effort than usual, I cheated. Setting a trap for a beast is also successful hunting, right? But in the most important matter to me, I was wrong... If I hadn't tried to rush things, if I hadn't tried to win at any cost, maybe things would have been different. It was difficult with Belle, and I didn't want to make an effort. I wanted to make her mine as quickly as possible. And now everything is poisoned by how we started our marriage. It's like cheating at the beginning of a game, although later you might still get trump cards. The win is still unfair. If she had been with me from the start, I wouldn't be telling you all this. But now, it seems because of me, she can't experience true love."

"You should talk to her, not me," the prince also looked out at the water.

"There's no point, I'm telling you. It's like you don't hear. You see... When I married her, she changed. Like she lost herself. Stopped reading."

"Stopped reading?" His Highness bent down and picked up a book from the ground.

"She... How can I put it? Like turning a lemon into lemonade. Trying to find herself in domestic work, gave up everything that was dear to her, trying to love me. I even believed at one point that it was... But when we returned, she started crying again when she thought I couldn't hear. Now I understand why, and I can't let her be unhappy. I can't deprive her of real love."

Prince Adam stepped back on the path, shook his head, and raised his hands:

"That's enough, I asked you not to talk about this!" He shook his head again. "Are you okay in the head? Why do I need to know about your family troubles? Go and talk to your wife, that's the only advice I can give," the prince turned and strode back towards the castle along the path.

"Why don't you want to fight?" Gaston shouted after him.

The prince spun on his heel: "Fight whom and for what?"

The hunter approached him: "Fight me. For your true love. Don't you want to be happy? You're clearly unhappy."

"One must fight only with oneself, to be human and not a monster. Why do you think I'm unhappy?"

"But you're not with Belle."

Prince Adam pursed his lips, as if trying to hold back words. His blue eyes looked into the distance:

"Of course, I love Belle. She became my angel... I... I despaired, completely despaired. I was a repulsive monster, not just on the outside. Inside too. I mistreated servants who only wished me well and were cursed because of me. And she... She taught me kindness, love. And she taught me that sometimes you need to sacrifice your feelings. It's hard, but for the one you want to sacrifice for, it can and should be done. And it didn't make me unhappy. When I let her go, I realized that my love is always with me, in my heart. My love made me different. I became a man," he paused and said softly, "If someone is willing to let go of their beloved, it means they truly love them. And if Belle wanted to leave, promises wouldn't have held her back. I know that. Listen, go home; most likely she wasn't crying because of me, but because of you, fool. Don't overburden yourself."

He turned his back and walked back towards the castle. Gaston watched him puzzlingly. It was wrong. It was strange. The prince clearly wasn't saying what he thought. He was restraining himself; it was evident. If he were happy, why keep the book Belle read to him?

The fact that both Belle and Prince Adam were so careful not to see each other anymore, or to somehow make it clear to him, Gaston, that his marriage was now just a pitiful formality, made them strangely alike. Gaston pushed the obvious thought out of his mind, but everything looked exactly like that - both felt sorry for him and didn't want him to suffer. Yes, usually he generously gave away something to others, shared his excesses, but now two people who evidently wanted and should be together deliberately refrained from it.

The prince chose to be noble, not to take the wife of a common man. Or perhaps he believes he has sinned too much before to deserve happiness. Belle chose to remain faithful to her marital vows. Belle so often sacrificed herself for her father that it had become a habit for her to do things for others.

But that was not what he needed. No. No way. While Gaston stood on the path, furrowing his brow, realizing that he had to speak with Belle and only Belle, the prince stopped, as if remembering something, and turned back to him.

"I completely forgot to ask you something," Prince Adam's gentle voice suddenly took on a firm tone. He moved closer to Gaston and said, "Don't call that girl that way anymore. Okay?"

"What girl? How call?" Gaston was surprised.

"The new maid, Polette. I won't allow disrespect to those who serve me. Those who serve me are now under my protection."

"Wow!" Gaston whistled. "You already know her name, she'll go far."

"I asked you!" Prince Adam clenched his free hand into a fist. "You overstepping bounds," he paused, then added indignantly, "A man shouldn't insult a defenseless girl. She cried when you left."

"I just call her that casually, while you turn her into a whore," Gaston argued. His Excellency fell silent, trying to choose his words.

"What did you say?" he finally spoke.

"But surely you understand everything yourself?"

But apparently, he did not understand.

Gaston sighed: "Listen, it's a small town, almost a village. We all work hard to feed ourselves. Some go to bed hungry. Taxes, you know that word? Polette is of low lineage, she could work a whole year and not earn enough for one button on your jacket. Here, she enters the castle, even maid's dress is silk, she polishes golden candlesticks, walks on expensive carpets. She helps set the table, where dinner isn't just bread and cheese. She gets used to luxury and men around who are noble and wealthy. Do you think she will now marry a simple miller, baker, or barber? Will she buy eggs one by one at the market? No, she now sees another life. But she has nothing except a pretty face and nice figure. None of the aristocrats would marry her, but, of course, they would pay attention. If she is sweet, they will give her dresses, bracelets, feed her. And so on. Of course, she could become the next Madame Pompadour, but it's unlikely. Usually the end for such girls is poverty and disease."

"I... I never thought about that," the prince whispered shakingly. "But still, don't insult her anymore."

"Okay, got it," Gaston shrugged, scrutinizing the prince even more intently. He seemed to be from another world or time, so strange, as if he had been living in a hole for ten years and knew nothing of real life.

As the prince walked back to the castle, Gaston stood still, contemplating how to speak with Belle. He couldn't think of a solution, so he headed out of the forest towards the town.

The decisions were left to him, Gaston. No one demanded anything from him, no one protested. He could just continue to live with Belle and that be it. Nothing would change. But he couldn't agree to that himself anymore. Happiness built on deceit and blackmail was not for him. He couldn't deprive Belle of the chance to be with her true love. He simply couldn't. Belle wouldn't truly be happy with him. It would be akin to him marrying Polette. She'd adore him, and he might be grateful, gradually getting used to her, there might even be a normal family life. But still, it wouldn't be Belle; it wouldn't be those feelings. The same went for Belle with Prince Adam. They understood each other, even in his monstrous form, he intrigued Belle so much that she read him her favorite book. And, as the prince himself said, she taught him kindness and love...

Passing by the pottery shop again, Gaston glanced at his reflection once more. But this time, without admiration and self-love.

"Gaston, you are positively primeval," she once told him. The refined face of Prince Adam flashed before his eyes. Now he knew what "primeval" meant, something akin to a savage. A savage, that's it. Why would she want a savage when there was a handsome prince she had always dreamed about?