𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐊 down on her plate as she finished the last bite that she could muster bringing herself to eat. The servants had prepared so much food, too much for simply two people to eat alone, but it had felt rude to not try at least a small portion of everything served.

The beast on the other hand, well, he had no trouble at at all scarfing down another decadent duck leg. She averted her eyes and lifted the napkin from her lap to wipe the corners of her mouth.

"This was amazing," Celine finally broke the silence, "You'll have to give my compliments to the chef."

"Chef Bouche has a way with food that he considers genius." The beast nodded his head in agreement, setting down the bone of the duck leg.

There was a brief pause of awkward silence. It wasn't that Celine had nothing to say. In fact, it was the opposite, she was bursting at her sides with a million questions; however, she didn't want to push her luck of hospitality.

"Why did you agree to let Belle go?" Celine cautiously asked. "One dinner hardly seems to equal the severity that you consider thievery."

The beast rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as if avoiding the question. It was odd to see such a large creature uncomfortable by her small presence.

Slowly, he clumsily explained, "It's been awhile since we last had visitors here at the castle—"

"Ten years to be exact, right?" She interrupted with another question, but offered a silent apology at his look of confusion. "Your candlestick sang about it when serving dinner."

"I think he's a candelabra," the beast corrected playfully, catching her off-guard.

"Is there a difference?"

The beast nodded his head. "The branching arms hold more candles than a single candlestick... and I'm circling off-topic."

She released a gentle laugh. "Yes, but that's how conversations go sometimes, one subject to the next."

The beast nodded his head in thought then answered her original question. "That's why I extended an invitation to dinner... You weren't exactly afraid of me when we first met, were you?"

Celine shrugged and played with her fingers. "I was more focused on the fact that my friend was locked away."

"You looked as if you were ready to sacrifice everything for this friend," the beast noted.

"Belle means a lot to me," Celine admitted, "she's the only person back in my village that seems to understand me."

"Your village doesn't sound like much of a pleasant place to live."

Celine shrugged. "It's the only home I've ever known though."

"Can you really call it home if you'd rather be anywhere else?" The beast asked.

Celine's expression softened as she considered what he had to say. It was then she remembered the one reason she'd been so torn about leaving in the first place. "My mother."

"Pardon?"

"My mother is the reason I call the village home," Celine explained, "She's the only thing that keeps me from leaving."

"Really?" The beast looked intrigued. "No suitors calling out to you from your balcony or musicians composing symphonies in your name?"

Celine rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I live in a small cottage on the edge of the woods. There's no way a balcony would fit on my ledge. I think you've been reading too much Romeo and Juliet or maybe the myths of the Greeks... I am amused though to see that your tastes in literature lie with the tragic romances."

"And why's that?" The beast raised an eyebrow.

"Most men preoccupy their time focusing on the history of the wars," Celine replied.

"I enjoy a bit of diversity," the beast shrugged, "There's not much to do here besides read anyway."

A somber smile formed on her face almost as if she felt sorry for the creature. Even though the beast lived in a castle full of servants, she could see the loneliness reflected in his sapphire eyes.

He had looked down at his plate and moved the various bones from their meal around. It was then that she noticed she had been entrapped by the hue of his eyes and was staring. She quickly looked away and cleared her throat.

"I should be going," Celine filled the following silence as she stood from her chair, "It's getting late and I'm sure my mother has herself worried sick..."

"Allow me to walk you out?" The beast offered.

Celine tilted her head, curious as to the sudden appearance of manners that had entirely disappeared during dinner. Slowly, she nodded and followed the beast as he led her back to the entrance of the castle.

Now that she wasn't cold and soaked to the bone, she finally noticed the gothic architecture of the castle. The atmosphere was both eerie and enchanting. It was almost like it was calling out to her to discover the secrets hidden within. However, she ignored that call and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. She had to get home, she didn't belong there.

The beast opened the door and looked back as if to give a parting goodbye, but the wind blocked out the sound of his voice. The snow and ice poured into the room and the cold stung her face. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, but her eyes widened with horror as she realized the castle was caught in the middle of a torrent storm. She couldn't see anything beyond the withered potted plants at the base of the steps leading up to the castle.

Her mind was made up though, she mentally prepared herself for the cold, but the beast slammed the door shut with force. She looked up at him in surprise.

"What's going on?"

"You can't go out there with the weather like that," the beast explained.

"You said I only had to stay for dinner," Celine reminded him, "Was that just a lie?"

The beast quickly shook his head and tried to defend himself. "I won't have your death on my conscience. You wouldn't make it ten feet past the front gate."

"You don't know that," Celine protested and yanked on the handle of the door. The beast kept his hand pressed up against the wood to prevent her from stepping outside.

"The storm will pass over during the night. It will be safer to leave in the morning," the beast explained, "I'll have my servants fix a room for you."

"You can't keep me here." She shook her head, clearly not understanding. "I'm not your prisoner!"

The beast's temper flared up again and he shouted at the same volume with which she spoke to him. "Believe me, I'd prefer to send you out in the cold!"

"Then just let me go." She pulled on the handle again.

"Fine." He took a step back and the door flew open. "Be my guest."

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself and marched out into the snow that was already above her ankles. She made it all of two feet before the strong gusts of wind knocked her to the ground and pushed her all the way back to the doors. She sat up and her hood fell down off her head. She tried once more to start her journey, but experienced the same results. After half a dozen tries, she finally gave up, kicking the snow in frustration.

With a sick sense of irony, the wind caught the snow and blew it back into her face. The sound of snickering behind her forced her to turn. The beast stood there with the door open and a smug smirk. "Had enough?"

She muttered under her breath and brushed the snow from her face before trudging back inside the castle.

"Dear me," Mrs. Potts gasped as she rolled by on her cart, "You're filling the castle with a draft, Master. Close the door this instant. How could you even think of sending this poor girl out into that ugly weather?"

The beast's jaw dropped as Celine elected to silently play the victim.

"Come along, dear," Mrs. Potts ushered her to follow. "Let's get you warmed up by the fire."

The beast begrudgingly closed the castle doors while Celine followed the teapot into the next room. She took a seat by the fireplace as a few of the other servants stoked the fire, adding another log in the process.

The beast stopped just outside the room as if contemplating something before entering. He stopped beside Celine, who looked up at him, almost inconvenienced that she was still there rather than lost in the frozen woods.

"Yes?"

"While you're here, you're welcome to explore the castle as you see fit," the beast offered but quickly added, "with the exception of the West Wing."

"What's in the West—"

"It's forbidden," the beast snapped. He turned on his heels and exited the room, calling out over his shoulder. "If you need anything else, Cogsworth can assist you."

"Cogsworth?" Celine questioned, but was answered by the sudden appearance of the clock."

"Splendid to see you'll be staying with us a bit longer, mademoiselle." Cogsworth elected to introduce himself. "I am Cogsworth, head of the household."

He leaned over to kiss her hand, but the candelabra from before swooped in and took his place. Cogsworth rolled his eyes and added. "This is Lumiere."

"En chante, cherie." Lumiere placed a numerous amount of kisses on the backside of her hand.

"If there's—stop that—anything that we—please," Cogsworth finally pushed Lumiere out of the way, "—can do to make your stay more comfortable."

A mischievous look crossed Lumiere's face as he placed the flame of his candle on Cogsworth's hand. The metal of the clock's hand started to glow at the heat and after a moment, Cogsworth yelped and pulled his hand back before quickly blowing on it to cool it down. "Ow!"

"It's been a long day, dear," Mrs. Potts excused herself, "I'm off to prepare a room for you."

"A long day indeed," Cogsworth agreed, "probably best to retire for the evening."

Celine rubbed the back of her neck. "Oh, I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep a wink."

"Perhaps mademoiselle would like a tour?" Lumiere eagerly suggested.

"Wait a second, wait a second. I'm not sure that's such a good idea." Cogsworth confidentially pulled Lumiere aside. "We can't let her go poking around in certain places, if you know what I mean."

"Perhaps you could show me," Celine suggested, "I'm sure you know everything there is to know about the castle."

Cogsworth chuckled, easily flattered, and nodded his head in agreement with a self-satisfied sigh. "Well, actually, ah yes, I do."