The air was cold but the light breeze was pleasant against Gaston’s face. He sat on the short balustrade and gazed at the sky, whose hue almost perfectly matched the Beast’s coat. It felt like this was a sky made just for him and the Beast.
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The Beast hesitantly sat next to him. Gaston raised his legs onto the balustrade and leaned back against one of the stone vases. It didn’t take long for his weight to accidentally knock the vase off the balcony. As he fell back, he immediately expected the Beast to save the vase, but instead he grabbed Gaston’s hand and pulled him up before his head could hit the stone.
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‘Are you okay?’ the Beast said, holding Gaston up to his chest with his hand still clasped around the other man’s.
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Gaston peered over the balcony but couldn’t see the vase in the mass of darkness below. He gulped. His face flushed before he could even say the word, the one word that felt the most alien coming from his mouth.
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‘Sorry.’
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‘That wasn’t an answer.’
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Gaston swivelled until his feet were on the balcony floor, letting go of the Beast’s hand. His hand suddenly felt icy cold by itself.
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‘I’m fine,’ he said. A chuckle left his lips. ‘You know, for a beast, you sometimes forget to act like one.’
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The Beast’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then his expression softened. ‘I wasn’t always this way.’ He bashfully ran a hand through the fur behind his head.
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‘Wait, you mean you used to be more of a jerk, or you used to look like a normal man?’
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‘Both.’ The Beast raised his paws to the sky and stared at them. ‘I made some foolish decisions and wound up with this curse. I’ve spent the last few years waiting for a cure while telling myself every day that I don’t deserve it. I got myself into this mess, and now I’m a monster.’
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Although the Beast laughed, his frown showed little amusement. Tears welled up in his eyes but he refused to let them spill. ‘I guess I always was one. This curse held a mirror to my face and told me no one could ever love someone as monstrous as me.’
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Gaston put one leg on the balustrade and rested his arm on it, looking over at the forest beyond the balcony. His sigh floated in the cool air.
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‘I wonder what a cursed mirror would tell me. Would it tell me that Belle would never love me? Huh, ridiculous!’
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‘Belle?’
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Gaston whipped his head towards the Beast and saw the creature’s body tense up until it shook. Gaston couldn’t recognise the emotion that pulled his heart down. The closest thing he could compare the feeling to was when he had an unsuccessful hunt.
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‘Yes… Belle. The most beautiful girl in town.’ The more he spoke, the more his voice withered. ‘I haven’t seen her in so long. I…’ He looked into the Beast’s eyes, still shiny with potential tears. He immediately looked away and coughed. ‘I miss her,’ he said with a more commanding voice. ‘I wish I could see her one last time.’
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After a few moments of deliberation, the Beast slowly exhaled. ‘Speaking of mirrors… there is a way for you to see her.’
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Gaston raised a puzzled eyebrow, matched by the other when the Beast led him to the West Wing. He searched for words until the Beast picked up a mirror beside the wilting rose on the table.
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The Beast handed it to Gaston. ‘This mirror will show you anything. Anything you wish to see.’
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‘I… I’d like to see Belle,’ Gaston said. The mirror did nothing. ‘Please.’
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The mirror glowed green and the glass showed the moving image of Belle, surprisingly enough, talking to a male villager. The two stood close to each other. Perhaps too close. Gaston’s blood boiled.
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‘What do you see?’ the Beast asked.
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Gaston held the mirror against his chest to hide the vision. ‘She…’ He did the dastardly act of thinking. ‘She needs my help. I must rescue her.’ He looked up at the Beast. ‘But…’
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A million emotions clawed at each other to take control of the Beast’s face. ‘Go, rescue her,’ he eventually muttered, his voice as hollow as the glass case surrounding the floating rose.
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‘But you said-’
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‘You’re free.’ The Beast finally settled on a small but comforting smile. ‘You’re no longer my prisoner.’
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Prisoner. That word sounded like a relic of centuries past to Gaston’s ears. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. Something pulled his heart down again.
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He took the mirror to his room, where he changed back into his regular attire. He hopped on Maurice’s horse and rode it into town.
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The Beast rested a paw on the table and slumped over it. Cogsworth, Lumiere and Mrs Potts entered the room as if on cue.
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Upon seeing his body language, Lumiere asked, ‘Where is your amoureux?’
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‘I… I let him go…’
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Mrs Potts gasped. ‘You WHAT?’ the three servants shouted simultaneously.
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‘He loves another. It would be better for him and this… Belle… to be happy together.’ He uttered Belle’s name like it was the name of a recently discovered, invasive species of flower.
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Lumiere and Cogsworth looked at each other with wide eyes before casting them down in perfect sync. Lumiere, unsure what else to do, reached out to Cogsworth, who writhed away from him and bolted out of the room.
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The second-last petal fell onto the table. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save us,’ the Beast said.
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After a few solemn moments of contemplation, Lumiere crossed his arms behind his back, straightening his back like a good servant.
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‘Well, I suppose there is nothing you could have done,’ he said.
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Mrs Potts chimed in with, ‘If he did not come to love you, you can’t change that.’
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To the servants’ surprise, the Beast smiled. It was a half-smile accompanied by eyes narrow with exhaustion, but they figured it still counted.364Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq9QM1JZW3A
