As Old As Time: A Twisted Tale (Twisted Tale, A) (43 page)

Belle was happy but shiftless, still exhausted but unable to rest. The sounds of champagne bottles being popped and laughter and music filled the castle halls as it hadn’t in a century. But she didn’t feel like joining in. It wasn’t
her
party. She was someone who had just bumbled into a bad situation and helped, sort of, to make it right. She went up to her old room and sat on the bed, wondering what to do next.

“Hey, hon, come join us!”

The woman previously known as “wardrobe,” who was now Ann, stuck her head in. She was a very tall woman, with a good-humored face and the cheekbones of someone who could very well have been a Joan of Arc or warrior princess in another age. Those cheeks were presently rosy with wine and she had golden goblet in her hand.

“In a little while,” Belle said politely.

“Better come soon. Won’t be anything left,” Ann said, toasting her before wandering off.

Belle sighed and looked out the window at the snowy landscape below. There was one out-of-place gray smudge amongst the snow, in the rose garden. Just a few weeks ago she would have guessed it was a vagrant or someone else unfortunate, but now she recognized her mother. Rosalind sat hunched over, alone, looking pensive.

Belle rose and ran downstairs, stopping only to throw a cloak over her shoulders and grab one for her mother as well.

Spring was a long way off, but the bright sun had given them a hint of warmer days; everything was slick and there was a very faint sound of drips and trickles. Belle stepped carefully and noticed her shoes were cracked and worn and past ready to be mended and resoled. Or maybe the Prince could have a new pair made for her.

That was a strange thought. It gave Belle the shivers.

Kings and beasts and enchantresses for mothers and the thing that
really
seems to bother me is the idea of a boy buying me a new pair of shoes.

She smiled to herself, but lost the expression as soon as she came close to her mother, who was sitting dolefully, regarding nothing at all.

As if they exchanged feelings, the woman brightened, however, upon seeing her daughter.

“Belle! Come sit by me,” she said excitedly, moving over on the damp bench. Despite the condition of her clothes, Rosalind didn’t seem to mind. Belle gingerly joined her and draped the cloak over her mother’s shoulders. “We have so much catching up to do! I want to hear everything.”

“What were you thinking about just now? You looked so sad,” Belle asked instead.

“Oh.” Rosalind shrugged—though the movement seemed to pain her. “I was thinking about what Frédéric…D’Arque…said. What if, in his own twisted way, he was right? What if
les charmantes
think differently, act differently than humans who
don’t
have magic? What if we behave instinctually in ways that are basically anathema to normal society?”

Belle sighed. “What if
you
, Rosalind, my mother, act differently from humans—and everyone else? The villagers, the servants, the government? What if
you personally
hold yourself above the law—as a vigilante? What if it’s
just you
? You’re doing the same thing D’Arque did…applying the actions of one to a whole people. That’s ridiculous. Whether you’re Huguenot or Catholic or Jewish or gypsy or short or have dark skin—or blue skin. Everyone is different. Each person has his or her own soul and is master of his or her own destiny.”

Rosalind gave her a sly look. “That’s very wise, and clever. You’re still an avid reader.”

“Not so much in the last few days,” Belle said with a smile.

“Everyone in the village still treat you as an oddball?”

“Yep.” Belle stretched her legs, looked at her toes. “Until yesterday, at least. I don’t know what they think of me now.”

“I’m so glad Lévi agreed to be your godfather. You two really are a perfect fit.”

“I wish I had
known
he was my godfather. I wish I had known…a lot of things.”

“Wishes,” Rosalind sighed. “I wish I had reined in my temper more. I wish I never cursed the Prince. I wish I had pitied the king and queen instead of seeking to punish them. I was full of power and empty of wisdom. And now it’s the reverse…I am empty of power and am just beginning to have the faintest traces of wisdom.”

Belle didn’t know what to say. She and her mother were talking like…adults. Not like a mother to a child who wants to learn how to make pastry, or is crying over a bloody knee, or needs a story read to her. Not what she ever imagined about reuniting with her
maman.

There was the sound of boots crunching against the gravelly path. Belle looked up and saw as strange a sight as any she had seen in the last month: her father and the Beast, walking side by side, heads bent toward each other, engaged in conversation. Between the Beast’s appearance and her father’s serious look of concentration, it was hard to make the image work in her head for a moment.

“Hello, ladies,” Maurice said, face breaking into a giant grin. “We saw you come out here…avoiding the crowds?”

“It’s a little overwhelming for me,” Rosalind admitted. “I am not used to them. How are your subjects, King?”

“Overindulging,” the Beast said with the faintest smile. Were those lines of weariness around his eyes? Did beasts get those? “They deserve it.”

“I’ve been thinking about your…situation,” the Enchantress continued. The phrasing irked Belle a little. “The strongest charms, spells, and curse reversals can be achieved by greater numbers. Like the charm at Belle’s christening that failed—because we were short a few. I am fairly certain the curse can be broken with an adequate gathering.”

The Beast looked at Rosalind hopelessly.

“There are no
charmantes
left—except a few poor souls we freed from the asylum.”

“Oh, many of them escaped before it grew too dire. All you have to do is find them,” Rosalind said airily, waving her hand.

“And if we found them, where could we bring them, where they could be safe? Where they would
want
to gather in numbers?” the Beast asked pointedly. “What happened here…has happened in the New World, too. They aren’t safe anywhere.”

“Yes, they are,” Belle said, eyes widening with an idea.

Everyone looked at her.

“Don’t you see?
This
is the one place in the world they are safe!” She waved her arms around, indicating the castle and the valley. “Your curse still isn’t really broken. The castle and everyone in it have been forgotten.
No one
remembers this place. You could find all
les charmantes
and bring them here. Bring them home. And get yourself…uncursed.”

“Hmmm,” Rosalind said, thinking. “Not bad. It’s an odd idea, considering this is the place we almost came to our end…but it’s intriguing. Yes, I like it. Go find everyone and bring them home. Really, it’s the least you could do after what your parents did.”

Maurice might have given Rosalind a little frown at that last bit, but she shrugged.

The Beast blinked. “Go…find them?
Me?
”

“Yes. Why not?” Belle said with a smile, reading his thoughts. “You would have to actually go out into the world that you’ve been watching for so long in your magic mirror.”

“With you,” the Beast said without missing a beat. “I could do anything, with you.”

Belle grinned and started to answer…

…and then saw Maurice and Rosalind, who were both watching her to see what she would do.

Belle had a family again. She had a mother—the most interesting, perplexing mother in the world—whom she had just met. There was too much to ask her, to talk about.

But this was finally her chance to go out on those adventures she had always dreamed of. Abandoned Greek islands, the hearts of never-before-seen forests, even Paris and Rome….They would travel the world looking for reclusive
charmantes
to bring home. Who knew what they might see!

It wasn’t fair.

“Belle, go,” her mother ordered. “If I was your age, I wouldn’t have hesitated for a moment. You will always come back here, and I will always be here. And we will have those talks we need. Everyone should have a journey—and everyone should also have a home, too.
Go out into the world for adventure, come home for love.
”

Maurice looked a little sad. “I like having both my girls together again…but there’s so much for us to do, the time will fly and you’ll be back home before we know it.”

“To do?” the Beast asked.

“Well, the village has a lot to cope with right now,” Belle’s father said with a rueful smile. “From long-lost relatives who are, or were,
charmantes
…to those who were genuinely…ah…not well. There’s a lot of people who have been in what was basically prison for years and years. I think the next few months are going to be rocky, and it might need a pair of…
oddballs
to help everyone on a bit.”

“And then there’s your castle,” Rosalind said, indicating a window out of which someone seemed to be dangling a pair of underthings like a flag. “Once all that ruckus calms down, your people have to decide what to do with themselves. I’m sure at least a few will stay on…but they may not feel like being servants anymore….There’s a whole world out there, and you will be gone.”

The Beast regarded her thoughtfully. “I could deputize Lumière to run things in my absence, with Cogsworth….”

“Oh, that will work out well,” Belle said, already imagining how it would end: with Mrs. Potts making the final decisions, of course.

The Beast regarded her. “Would you come with me, Belle? Help me do this? We may not succeed…I may always be a beast.”

“No,” Belle said with a smile, touching him on the nose. “You will always be my prince.”

“Well, you’re not exactly what I wanted out of a son-in-law—because of your
parents
, not because of your form, I mean,” Rosalind said quickly. “But you’re certainly a fair bit better than that Gaston fellow…what is
his
story, if I may ask? Was he also patient at the asylum?”

Belle almost choked on her laughter. “No, and that was
not
the first time he proposed to me.”

“I think,” Maurice said, putting his arms around the couple, “we should all have one last night together before you start out…just the four of us. There are a lot of stories to tell before we see you again.”

“And most of them,” Belle observed with a smile, “seem to
almost
have a happy ending.”