𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒 peeked through the thick velvet curtains. Celine slowly stirred as those rays landed on her face as the sun rose higher in the sky. She yawned and stretched. The amount of rest she achieved was surprising. But after the initial nightmares had passed, she'd slept like a baby.

She pushed the satin sheets and thick comforter back then stood, avoiding the slippers that had been laid out at her bedside. The gesture was appreciated, but she didn't intend to take advantage of any more "hospitality" offered.

She found that her dress from the previous day had been washed, dried, and set against a chair in the corner simply waiting to be worn again. She dressed quickly and quietly before tiptoeing over to the door as if walking on glass.

The door creaked as it opened and she winced, glancing over her shoulder. She sighed with relief to see that the wardrobe remained asleep. She stepped outside the room and pulled the door closed.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle!"

"Gah!" Celine released a short, startled shout as she pressed her back against the door. She placed a hand to her chest to still her beating heart and took a deep breath as the candelabra offered her a sheepish smile.

"My apologies, mademoiselle," Lumiere apologized, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"So not all of yesterday was a dream..." Celine muttered under her breath, failing to hide her look of disappointment.

"Eh, I'm afraid not." The candelabra rubbed the back of his neck. He quickly brightened though. "Might I offer you some breakfast?"

Celine fervently shook her head and looked around as if afraid he'd wake the entire castle with the aid of another musical number. "No, no. That's alright. I should be on my way anyway."

"Could I not tempt the mademoiselle to extend her stay?" Lumiere asked, a hint of desperation shining in his eyes.

Celine raised an eyebrow. A slight tugging at the strings of her heart made her consider his offer, but she shook her head and abandoned that thought just as quickly.

"I don't think you can," Celine honestly replied.

She grabbed her cloak from the coat hanger; however, she had to cover her mouth to mute the startled yelp that escaped as the coat hanger bowed a silent 'adieu'.

"Enchanted castle," Celine reminded herself, "Just about everything is alive."

Lumiere sighed, but nodded his head as if he understood. "Well, the castle doors are always open for you, mademoiselle. Feel free to return whenever you like."

Celine scoffed. "I'm not so sure the master would agree."

"The master may be a little bit course around the edges—"

"A little?"

"—but... somewhere inside there's a prince just waiting to be set free."

"If that's the case I think I've met enough princes and captains of the guard for a lifetime," Celine retorted, throwing her cloak over her shoulders.

"Are we... are we still talking about the master?" Lumiere asked in confusion.

"I'm talking about men in general." Celine threw her arms up in frustration. She glanced down at the candelabra and offered him an apologetic look. "Look... I just want to go home, lock myself in my art studio, and sit in front of my easel for a few hours before Belle and I leave for Paris."

"You're leaving?!" Panic crossed Lumiere's face.

Celine slowly nodded her head. She hadn't noticed the candelabra's change in tone. "It's time I find my place out there."

"But what if your place is here?" Lumiere asked. However, after Celine gave him a funny look, he changed his wording. "I mean here—in your village that is."

Celine shook her head. "All my life I've known that I never belonged there. I even tried to look the part at one point, but they saw straight through me."

Lumiere sighed as he walked alongside her toward the door. "Then I guess all I can say is bon voyage, mademoiselle."

Celine smiled and nodded her head. She walked down the few steps at the entrance and began to walk in the direction of the stables, but stopped in her tracks. Slowly, she turned back around to face Lumiere.

He gave her an inquisitive look. "Mademoiselle?"

"Will you thank the others for me?" she requested.

He nodded his head. "Of course."

Phillipe was just as anxious as she to leave behind the castle grounds in exchange for the small village of Villeneuve. The woods were a blur as her mind focused solely on the cottage.

They arrived sooner than she expected. She dismounted and tied Phillipe's reins to the post in her front yard before hesitantly approaching the front door. She wasn't sure she was ready to face her mother's wrath just yet.

With a deep breath, she lifted her hand to knock, but the door was opened before she so much as touched the wood. Her mother pulled her inside and immediately embraced her.

Her fingers combed through Celine's hair and she muttered things under her breath as if to console her child; however, Celine realized that it was more for her mother's own benefit.

"I'm okay, Maman," Celine insisted as she tried to breathe through her mother's crushing grip, "I'm okay."

"I want you to swear you'll never do something so foolish ever again," her mother demanded on top of a list of other chastisements, "I never should have let you go out into that storm. If anything had happened to you..."

"Maman!" Celine pulled herself away enough to grasp her mother by the shoulders. She forced her to look her in the eyes. Her voice softened. "I'm okay, Maman."

Althea broke down in tears and fell to her knees. Her voice faltered as her chest heaved. "Oh, mon petit ange, mon petit ange..."

Celine reversed their earlier roles as she pulled her mother close and brushed away the strands of white hair that had fallen from her headscarf.

However, it was at that moment Celine noticed how the house had been disturbed. Several blankets littered the floor and a few more dishes that usual were set out on the table. The kettle had even been left by the fire, which didn't happen often unless her mother was either extremely stressed or distracted.

"Did you have company?" Celine quietly questioned.

Althea wiped away the tear stains from her cheeks with her apron and sniffed. Once she'd regained control of her breathing, she nodded her head. "Maurice and Gaston found Belle, but were unable to make it to the village before the storm hit. They returned to the village earlier this morning."

"And you let them stay?" Celine asked genuinely surprised.

"Yes," Althea nodded as if her daughter was overreacting, "Do you think me so cruel as to leave them out in the cold and snow? Only someone completely heartless would turn away those in need."

Celine had originally chuckled and bent over to pick up the kettle; however, she froze as she processed the last few words her mother said. She could practically hear the music from the ball ringing in her ears.

"Celine?"

Celine blinked a few times and cleared away the trance. "I'm alright."

Her mother looked at her skeptically. "Where'd you find shelter from the storm?"

"I, um, found a place at the edge of the woods," Celine vaguely replied. It's not as if she could simply tell her mother that she spent the night in an enchanted castle filled with talking silverware and a beast. She'd either think her insane or never let her step foot outside the cottage again.

"A place?"

"Just a place," Celine agreed, "Nothing special or fancy, but strong enough to keep out the cold."

Her mother nodded her head. She picked up the kettle and gathered the dishes on the table then walked into the kitchen and began to wash everything that had been used. Celine followed and silently offered her help, but her mother declined.

Althea scrubbed the dishes with a rag in small circles before continuing the conversation without looking up from her work.

"Last I checked, a castle was pretty fancy."

"What?" Celine froze but tried to recover by leaning against the doorway nonchalantly. "Castle? Who mentioned a castle?"

"You certainly didn't," her mother snipped but added, "I'm not sure I would trust that Belle with any secrets though."

"Belle?" Celine asked in confusion.

Althea nodded her head. "After Gaston and his small friend left, Belle and her father woke. We spoke for a while and they told quite the story about a castle with a great beast living inside. Except from the look in your eyes, I now see it's more than just a story."

"You don't seem surprised," Celine noted.

"About the castle or the lies?" Althea asked for clarification.

"I'm sorry," Celine apologized half-heartedly before revealing her half-truth, "I wasn't sure you'd believe me—"

"No," Althea shook her head and corrected, "you didn't think I'd ever let you leave the cottage again for fear of the outside dangers or your own insanity."

"Was I wrong?"

Althea sighed and finally set down her rag before turning to face her daughter. She left the room and entered the living room. Celine raised an eyebrow but followed after her. Althea dusted off the stool by the fireplace then took a seat and motioned for Celine to join her.

"It's true that I have a strong distrust for the world," Althea admitted, "but it's not without warranted reason. I've done my best to keep you sheltered from the hardships I faced in my own youth."

"I don't need to be sheltered, Maman," Celine replied gently, taking her mother's hands, "I need answers."

"Answers?"

Celine nodded her head and took a deep breath. She'd been dreading the day that her curiosity finally got the better of her. "Unless I'm asleep, I'm unable to remember anything from before I was ten years old. Now, after all these years, I stumble upon a castle that seems to have the answers to the questions I never knew to ask."

"What are you implying, Celine?"

"I've been there before, haven't I?" Celine asked. "It looked different when I was younger, but it's the same castle."

From the look in her mother's eyes, she knew that they were on the same page.

"What happened that night?" Celine practically pleaded. "Why do I feel drawn to return to that place?"

"I don't know," Althea pushed aside the question with a blatant lie and stood from her stool in frustration. "I don't know about any of that."

"Now who's telling lies?" Celine's eyes hardened. She grabbed her cloak and moved toward the door. "Alright. Fine. If you won't tell me I'll just figure it out on my own."

Althea's expression turned panicked as she whirled around to face her daughter. "I forbid you from running back out into those woods!"

"What?"

"I forbid you from going back," he mother commanded. Her tone calmed as she tried to provide a rational explanation, "It's dangerous out there, mon ange."

Althea moved to brush her fingers through her daughter's hair, but Celine pulled away. Her daughter's hands had clenched into a pair of fists that were quivering. Her face has also started to turn a light shade of pink.

Althea took a step closer, but Celine pushed herself away again. This time, she threw the door open and ran.

"Celine!"

Celine ignored her mothers call. She didn't run for the woods though, instead, she turned toward the village. It was an odd choice, but subconsciously she felt obliged to obey her mother's sudden controlling personality.

She didn't stop though as she reached the border of the village, she kept running through until she'd reached the meadow on the other side of town. It was far away from the forest, the cottage, and the tavern, but more than anything it had the fresh air and open space that she needed to think. Aside from a few small piles of snow that remained, she'd almost forgotten the winter.

She planned to run until her legs gave out, but instead she tripped over an unsuspecting person and fell. She rolled, head over heels, and the world flashed by in dizzying colors of blue and gold. When she stopped, the world continued to spin.

A shadow was cast over her face and a hand was extended that Celine graciously accepted. She was pulled to her feet and greeted with a warm smile from Belle.

"Sorry, Celine," she apologized.

Celine gently laughed and shook her head. "I'm pretty sure I'm the one who owes you an apology. I stepped on you, remember?"

Belle smiled and nodded her head, but Celine could see that something was wrong. She placed a hand on Belle's shoulder and silently expressed her concern. Belle sighed and took a seat so that her head was barely visible above the dried yellow-green grass. Celine lowered herself to the ground beside her friend and listened intently.

"My father says Gaston has the intention of proposing to me later this evening," Belle explained. She picked up one of the few flowers that hadn't been killed by the cold, but played at the petals between her fingers. "He's encouraging me to accept."

"I thought your father hated Gaston?" Celine asked in confusion.

Belle shrugged. "LeFou visited earlier and the two talked about it for a while. In the end, they agreed that it'd be safer if there was someone around to protect me when my father couldn't."

"What about what you want?" Celine asked in confusion. "Your father knows about your dreams... Paris, remember?"

Belle averted her eyes and looked toward the ground. Her voice was a whisper. "I'm not so sure anymore."

"Not so sure?" Celine repeated, "What do you mean you're not sure?"

"The world isn't what we imagine it to be, Celine," Belle replied, "it's dangerous and unpredictable, not at all like the books we read or the worlds that you paint."

"That's what makes it so interesting," Celine insisted. She paused. "Is this about the castle?"

Belle flinched at its mention. "I thought I could be brave, but..."

Celine placed a comforting hand on her shoulder to console her. "I understand... Besides, we've waited this long, what's a few more years?"

Belle looked up in surprise. "You mean that?"

Celine nodded her head with a warm smile. "Belle... I'd do anything for you."

Belle smiled and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Celine... You're a true friend."

"Of course..." It was the only two words she could muster to mask her own disappointment.

The sun began to set and the two girls laid in the field until the stars blinked above them. Celine almost wished they could stay there forever. However, Belle slowly rose and insisted Celine do the same. It was then back to town for the both of them.

Although she had promised to wait, Celine had also made a promise to herself that she wouldn't be staying out in the village any longer. She was torn between so many decisions and burying them all. However, it would only last so long before the feeling would erupt.

She wanted to scream, but she kept calm and maintained appearances. She'd act the part of the obedient daughter for now; it was necessary to keep the plan forming in her head from being discovered.

Since the age of eighteen, she'd been called the village angel. However, they had failed to realize that the nickname didn't just refer to her beauty and grace. No, she believed it referred to the metaphorical wings on her back that would carry her to freedom.

"Celine!"

Her thoughts were interrupted and she turned in confusion, wondering who might be trying to get her attention at that hour of night.

Gaston waved and began to jog over from the tavern. Belle silently offered to stay, but Celine shook her head and sent her on her way. She could deal with the hunter on her own. She crossed her arms to create a barrier of hostility as Gaston stopped less than a foot away.

"Could I speak with you?"

"You're wasting your breath now, aren't you?"

"I can see you're upset—"

"Upset?" Celine scoffed and shook her head. "No. I'm not upset. I'm disappointed. Oh, but don't worry, I'm disappointed in myself and that I chose to believe you were capable of change."

"I am capable of change—"

"Please," she didn't let him speak. She knew he'd try to charm his way out of the situation if she did. "It was always about Belle, right?" She chuckled bitterly. "No one breaks hearts like Gaston, right?"

"Yes. No. I—"

"Listen, it's fine," Celine interrupted again and held up a hand. "You got what you wanted, and I don't mind, but I swear if you hurt her—"

"Damn it, woman, let me speak!" Gaston snapped.

Celine was caught speechless, startled by his brashness. He sheepishly cleared his throat as if apologizing for his action.

"Celine de Fayette, you are the bane of my existence... but I don't believe I've ever wanted anything more." Gaston removed his coin pouch from his belt. He removed something small that shimmered in the moonlight, but otherwise kept the object concealed. "I know you've felt something similar since the day we met, so I can say with absolute certainty that this is the day your dreams come true."

Celine took a cautious step back. "What do you know about my dreams, Gaston?"

"Plenty," Gaston haughtily replied as he took a step forward. "Picture this: a rustic hunting lodge, my latest kill roasting on the fire. My little wife will have of course painted my victory while the little ones play with the dogs."

"I'm not sure I understand." Celine took another step back. It wasn't that she couldn't, but that she refused to even imagine what he might be implying.

Gaston bent down on one knee and offered her the small silver ring that he'd concealed in the palm of his large calloused hands. "Celine, I'm asking you to marry me."