The stars looked down on her without answer. There were no fairies here.
There was no Frederick in her dreams that night, either. Perhaps Frederick truly was imprisoned in the castle, and could only be found within its stone walls.
“Frederick?” she called out. “Where are you? Can’t you find me here?”
But he could not, and he did not come to her.
That night, and every night thereafter that she slept in the small cottage, she slept alone.
And so Belle and her Papa spent the days as they used to, enjoying each other’s company, the warmth of home and hearth, and each other’s loving presence that had been so sorely missed—the love that only a father and daughter can share.
On the seventh day, however, Belle knew her time with her Papa had come to an end. She waited as long as she could, not wanting to ruin their last moments together. Still, she had to say goodbye, so that he wouldn’t fret over her disappearance.
“Papa?” she said, sitting across from him in front of the fire.
He smiled at her, and it distressed her to have to tell him she was leaving. But she must.
“As much as it pains me to leave you, Papa… I must go tonight, and return to the castle.”
“The castle?” he repeated, his eyes betraying his disbelief at her words. “Back to that Beast? No! He’s an animal, a monster—”
“No, Papa—”
“You are free, you are home with me! You must never go back there. I forbid it.”
“It has been a week,” Belle said. “I promised the Beast I would return. And…I want to, Papa. I want to go back.”
“He’ll keep you forever in his dungeon!”
“No, not the dungeon. He’s given me a lovely suite, and a library even. The Beast is taking very good care of me. He cares for me, Papa. And I for him. He’s good.”
“He is not good, Belle. You have been hypnotized by his magic. He is evil.”
“You are wrong, Papa—”
“I will call the Constable and have him talk sense into you, if you won’t listen to reason!”
“Please, Papa, it is you who must listen to reason.” She took a breath to steady her voice, and held his hand. “If you tell anyone, anyone, that there really is a beast, they will lock you back up in the asylum. I’ve already told Mrs. Sharone and the Constable that your weak vision made you see a beast where there was merely a deformed man wrapped in a fur.”
“My vision is as clear as it ever was!” he huffed indignantly. “I know what I saw. I know what that thing is, that Beast. And you are never to return to him.”
“I told them I had been staying with him to help him, and you must tell them that again.”
“I will do no such thing!” His voice rose, his brow furrowed with anguish.
“I care for him, Papa.”
“That castle is enchanted, darling,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her, or refused to believe. “You’re under a spell, you are confused. Once you’re safe at home with me for a while, you’ll forget all about him.”
Belle dropped her face into her hands. How could she make her Papa understand?
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, stroking her hair. “I have no idea what torture you’ve been through at his hands. But know this—every day and every night while you’ve been gone, I’ve been in that asylum, listening to the ravings of lunatics around me, and fearing the worst.”
“No, Papa…”
“I imagined you chained in that dungeon, lying on the dirty hay behind those bars. I imagined the Beast hovering over you, his teeth dripping with blood, tearing into you. I would wake up in the night screaming from my nightmares, screaming about you, about the Beast. It is no wonder they thought me insane.”
“Let me ease your mind, Papa,” she said softly. “Imagine me instead, dressed in a stunning gown befitting a princess, sitting happily in an enormous library filled with books upon books, reading to my heart’s content. Imagine me sleeping at night on a fine feather mattress in my own suite filled with roses, with fairies seeing to my every wish. Imagine me dining with the Beast, enjoying long conversations about everything and anything. He listens to me, Papa. He listens. He cares.”
“Has he ever hurt you, Belle?”
She couldn’t reply. How could she tell her father that yes, the Beast may have hurt her, but she found herself liking it? How could she explain to her father that the Beast would never harm her, and that harm was different from hurt?
“He has, hasn’t he.” Her Papa shook his head, moaning in distress. “My poor Belle, you will never go back to that monster. You are safe now.”