A/N: Just some of my ideas of events that proceeding Adam's proposal. Thank you, those who reviewed, fave, kudos, bookmarked and follow :-) I apologize in advance for any grammatical/typos on this one, the typical clumsy writer on the loose!

[Adam, Belle, T, Hurt/Comfort/Romance]

THE ONE

About two months ago, Adam received a wedding invitation from his cousin of his who lived in the neighboring kingdom, in England, a purely social affair - a wedding to be precise. Adam intended to make a brief appearance for the sake of politeness, he even considered using the enchanted book, but clearly his bookish, adventurous (and slightly odd) 'girlfriend' had a different idea.

"They are your family, Adam! And they've offered us to stay for the whole week. Besides, aren't you at least a little bit excited about the prospect of a road trip just the two of us? It would be splendidly romantic. You've been complaining about having a time alone since that budgeting meeting a few months ago."

However, Belle's gentle admonishment didn't sit quite well with Adam's reclusive inclination. "But what are we going to do there? Rotting in the room for the entire week?"

"Oh, my love! There is plenty to do… we can try punting down River Thame, and what about visiting Stratford upon Avon? That's a proper romantic escapade!"

Thanks to Belle's unhealthy addiction to everything Shakespeare. Even when Adam was adamant the people in England perhaps just tried to grab their money, conning them with a random Tudor house and scribbling 'this where Sir William Shakespeare was born' when clearly it wasn't.

"It rains a lot in England, and I am not fond of getting wet," Adam opposed. He began doubting the whole romantic escapade idea, especially when he learned that Belle didn't intend to use the enchanted book. She insisted that the journey wasn't just about the destination - but also about the process of getting there.

"Adam, there is an invention called umbrella and boots!"

"I knew you're going to say that," came his dry reply. But he knew Belle's stubbornness could only rival his own and a debate like this was a complete squandering of time. Resigned to his fate, he stepped outside the room, perhaps the best solution he could do before they began reenacting the epic feud of Capulet and Montague.

"Where are you going?" Belle asked, twisting her elegant brows.

"To inform Lumiere and Plumette about the trip, they will need to pack their stuff too, right?" Adam replied offhandedly, standing up from his seat.

"Who says they are coming?"

Adam could feel his brows nearly touch his hairline. "What? You mean… just us and...the…-"

"Yes!" Her voice was far too jovial and resplendent for Adam to respond with his signature eye-rolling derision. Taking a cue from Belle's independent nature, Adam should've seen it coming.

"Adam, we'll be fine… I lived for twenty-five years without servants!"

Adam was about to retaliate by saying he had lived for thirty-five years without a woman. But, reminiscing Lumiere's nugget of wisdom, he decided it wasn't a very wise thing to say.

"We can enjoy our privacy properly," Belle added, making up for Adam's lack of response. Her absurd comment drew a laugh from him.

"Yes, at the cost of me yanking those suitcases, dragging them around the cobbled street of London, wet, cold and miserable," he complained.

"Oh, Adam…." Belle approached and threw herself into his arm. "Do you know that you look positively irresistible when you are doing those…. workout," she emphasized, running the digits of her hand on the button of his shirt. A particularly impish smile graced her lips and her wide mesmerizing eyes gleamed with hopefulness. "Very please?"

Adam considered her plea. He was sure Belle was no enchantress, but the prospect of hauling heavy luggage sounded more lucrative by the minute as though he was under a magic spell.

"You are very persuasive," he muttered, breath hitched as her finger made contact with his flesh. He wondered where all his fierceness and disciple had gone in the face of Belle's heartbreakingly sweet smile.

"Then be persuaded..." she grinned triumphantly. Adam couldn't decide whether he supposed to feel thrilled or manipulated.

Thankfully a week journey from Villeneuve to London was rather uneventful. Uneventful on Belle's optimistic vocabulary (and Adam's harmless sarcasm). They were nearly robbed once, suffered from broken wheel twice, and got lost their way more than Adam had enough fingers to keep track. On positive notes, Belle told Adam there was nothing new on whatever they'd encountered under the sun. She called it - the struggle of common people.

Surprisingly, they arrived in London with two days to spare before the wedding. Adam mentally kissed the gravelly path leading to his cousin's expansive country house to express his delight. But his trial was far from over, in fact, it was just about to begin.

Adam brushes the shoulders of the blue coat so that they align properly with his musculature. He stared at the reflective surface of the mirror. It was the evening of the wedding reception after the church blessing in the morning. He craned his head, scrutinizing the unfamiliar silhouette that shared the same pose as him with familiar blue eyes on his unfamiliar human face.

The clothing fit perfectly, molded incoherence to the curve of his figure, but there something about it felt wrong, and he didn't understand why. As a beast, he yearned for the day that he could see his reflection, his facial feature, his bodily appearance would one day matched the person he was inside. But here was, returning back into the exact semblance of his former self, Adam felt almost alien in his formal clothing, as though he was disguising himself into someone else.

It was the face paint, the flashy finery, the exorbitant amount of cologne, the wigs, the overindulgence, everything about his royalty life that he used to love so much now clung to his skin like a plague. Adam shook his head to get rid of the bitter nostalgia that danced across his vision. His own reflection would be a constant reminder of how he used to be, his troubled past, his flair for the dramatic, flamboyant appearance. It was so pointless…. boastful… wasteful even.

"Excuse me?" Adam called to a man that preoccupied straightening nonexistence creases on his jacket. "Can I remove all these?" Adam gesticulated around his face and hair.

After a few minutes of polite debate, the subservient attendance assisted Adam to remove his wigs and wore less face paint that he ought to. Adam stared at his reflection and smiled. He felt a lot more relaxed and at peace with himself, even when to the world outside he would be scandalously underdressed.

This visit carried a few mission, Adam must show his royal acquaintances that not only he was capable of doing more than just drinking, mingling and wasting time in idle foolishness, but also that he had become more responsible and sensible ruler - he had changed. The prospect of this assignment made Adam considered reading Romeo and Juliet far less daunting alternative.

"Ah there you are!" came Belle's sweet, familiar voice. Her brown hair was piled up into a simple but elegant updo, a few curled strands framing her pixie face, freshly brushed with a modest amount of face powder, her lips laced with the palest shade of pink that seemed to match perfectly with her porcelain-like skin.

"Devilishly handsome," Belle whispered into his ears but withdrew a step back when she saw his jaw hanging but no words to fill it. "You looked mortified. Do I look that bad?"

Adam was about to quip some clever retort on how Belle always managed to manipulate his lack of self-confidence into a swelling pride that could easily filled the room, but then his eyes caught on Belle herself, and it felt like his heart had dropped on the proximity of his knee. The witty reply ends its short life against his lips.

"You… I…-" Adam started and stalled, swallowing his thick tongue. His eyes were greeted with a sight of Belle, beautifully arrayed in sea blue dress that coordinated with his, lined with a glittering gossamer fabric that had a subtle sheen of silver under perusal of candlelight. A slight gap on the front revealed her modest cleavage, clad in a fitting scarf that contrasted nicely against her alabaster skin. Her eyes were shining bright, and his breath caught unwillingly in his throat as she flashed one sweet, shy smile at him.

He tore his eyes away from Belle to the clueless chambermaid who happened to watch their entire romantic but awkward exchange. Unfortunately, she had only a pile of dirty laundry and a duster to offer him.

"Is this… too revealing?" The girl adjusted the scarf to cover most of her bare shoulder.

Irritatingly, Adam found Belle beautiful no matter what she was wearing or doing. From that old fashioned blue dress that she wore when she was running her errands, that billowy golden signature gown that had become the latest fad in Villeneuve, or even that plain underdress she wore when she stood by the rampart, breathlessly calling his name. Adam had no doubt that his future wife would still be astoundingly beautiful wearing nothing!

She was like an angel, an angel who frowned in confusion and apprehension as she stared at him. Him. "Oh.. no no…! You look fine. Absolutely fine. Better than fine," Adam blurted a series of nonsensical words.

"Adam, you appear nervous. Is everything okay?"

Although Adam had hosted a few banquet right after the curse was broken, it was always held in the comfort and familiarity of Villeneuve. Tonight was different. It would be his first night commiserating with all his relatives: the dukes, barons, and royalty who knew his previous vain, overindulgent life - completely out of his comfort zone.

"Oh, yes..yes… I'm fine," he replied unconvincingly. "Shall we…-?" he offered his hand.

This was my world. He coaxed his courage. I should be able to navigate, to conquer... to vanquish my fear. In his unspoken thought, Adam wanted to do well, not just for himself, but for Belle, he knew God-sent-sent helper worry every second for his well being.

"One step at a time. You are doing great!" came Belle's encouraging voice.

The ballroom was just like Adam had imagined. It was bedecked with glittering chandeliers, the billowing dresses that swept the floor, the lingering scent of alcohol mixed with expensive cologne, the sea of food and wine, and every wealth imaginable. He was fine - as he said it, until the thundering voice of Prince Philippe Dubois, announcing the floor was opened for the first dance.

As the soprano unleashed her voice, the sound caused a flash of bitter images around Adam's eyes, of the dancing, the grandeur and the powerful rendition of Madame de Garderobe's beautiful arias accompanied by Maestro Cadenza's perfect accompaniment. Adam's heartbeat is trying to punch through his ribcage. He tried to suppress the unpleasant nostalgia from wearing his composure down to nothing.

"Oh, aren't they looked so much in love!" Belle commented, looking at Claudette, the beaming bride nestling in the protective arm of her groom, Edward - an English royalty. The pair glided the floor with their elegant stride before inviting the guest to join in.

"Adam?" Belle's concerned voice finally broke his stupor. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Adam's hands are shaking by the time he finds his voice again. It's hoarse and embarrassingly uncertain, he wasn't even sure who he tried to convince, was it Belle or himself?

"Adam, look at me."

That moment as he saw Belle's eyes staring at him passionately, his princely mask cracked and his terrified, troubled expression managed to shine through. Adam knew he could lie easily with his mouth but never with his eyes.

"Belle, I'm sorry… I am just...-" he couldn't even finish his sentence, something within him broke at the word, a knot of emotion burning hot and tight at the back of his throat.

After a beat of mustering his courage, he began. "This reminded so much of my past, the….the vain man I used to be," he managed, not with his authoritative manly voice, but of an orphaned boy who was abandoned by his father: unloved and forgotten.

"You can do this. I'll help you," she said, planting a chaste kiss of positive affirmation.

Belle's warm hand pressed against his forearm reassuringly, suddenly Adam found it easier to breathe. He's a beast all over again, in the blue jacket, trying to dress like a human and bewildered as to how he's managed to get such a beautiful woman to dance with him.

And like always, her strength alone was enough to inspire him to determination.

"And you….you'll charm them all with your smile and enthrall them with your kindness, as you did me."

At that moment, Adam began to realize the dynamic of their romance. His life attention, his strength, and inspiration were constantly orbiting around Belle, he took her hand, kissed her, cherished her….it was clear that she was clearly the sun in his sky.

But, as the dance ceased to a stop, Adam's found the limit of his emotion was tested once more.

What does he see in her?

Rumor said she an artist daughter….

This world is no fairy tale, wondered what the prince was even thinking!

Courting a peasant! How preposterous!

Those mocking insults were getting familiar by the minutes, flying around every corner of the ballroom, some in hushed tones, some in subtlety, some disguised in a joke, whispered behind the curve of the hands, between sipping their wine, beneath the raised brows that slanted in disapproval and darting judgemental glances.

His ears grew hot from it. By the way people raising their brows at him, perhaps, they could see a billowing waft of steam coming off his head. He wanted to shout in his beastly roar and stormed over those scandalous peacocks in their ostentatious finery and formal gown and gave them a piece of his mind.

But what could he say? Admitting that he was previously cursed as a beast? Expounding the untold story of Belle's bravery together with his castle's enchantment? Perhaps people would laugh heartily at its absurdity and stamped him as a lunatic prince who came out with such an intricate story to justify him courting a peasant.

Of course, for Adam, Belle was an extraordinary girl. With her exceptional boldness, courage, and kindness and salvaged his entire castle and its inhabitants from the curse that nearly enslaved them forever. But for many, Belle was still a commoner, more so a peasant who had a stroke of luck in bagging herself a handsome prince.

Adam futilely wished he was at home, in his castle, where there always someone that kept his temperament at bay and reminded him of the boundary of impropriety. Lumiere was always there, nodding in silence and encouraged him to breathe slowly…. In and out. Cogsworth worked his best excuse to distract gossipy dignitary and offered them to top up their wine. While Mrs. Potts would give him a pointed glance, and Adam would huff in mounting annoyance, crossed his arm tightly in front of his chest, and let his rage shimmer like a boiling hot soup as the hushed whispers continued.

But not today, today were only him… and his mounting rage.

Thankfully, his anger eased on the sight of Belle, talking to his aunt and uncle, despite the hateful rumor, Belle seemed to fit perfectly where she was. Adam remembered, when he was still had grotesque fangs, Belle mentioned that the villagers made a blatant remark that she was weird (to which he replied saying her village sounded awful). It wasn't just the villager who noticed Belle was different. All the emissaries, diplomatic dignitaries, other princes, and princess made the same reproach.

Why can't everyone else see what he saw in Belle?

Why can't they remove the preconceived notion behind her status and where she came from in the social strata and delved deeper to get to know her as a person?

She doesn't deserve this.

But admittedly, even Adam himself couldn't appreciate what kind of extraordinary girl she was at first. He begrudged her because she was a daughter of a thief. He was once like them! Appraising people based on their heritage, appearance, valuing people based on position and affluence. He was like them before the Enchantress came and taught him the valuable lesson. A lesson that no one could learn through words and lecture, but through experience.

"Adam!" A voice shattered his contemplative reverie. "Oh, my lovely nephew!"

Adam barely recognized the owner of the voice. Her hair silvering with age, and years and age definitely bore evident on her regal posture. "Aunt Yvonne!"

The woman embraced him and kissed his cheek affectionately.

"Oh! is this your favorite nephew you often talked about? He didn't look thirty-five to me!" said another middle-aged lady in lavish dress and thick make-up. After a few minutes of mentally dissecting the powdered wigs, towering headdress, thick face paint and ostentatious dress, he recognized the lady.

"Ah, Countess Madeleine Valois of Vasconia," Adam said bowing down. The lady debonairly offered her hand, which Adam, at first, forgot what to do with it. Thankfully, the lady's red pouty lips eventually gave him the right hint.

"Pleasure to meet you here," Adam smiled a little at his lapse of grace and kissed the back of her hand.

Turning to his right, another lady, roughly her aunt's age, eagerly trying to make acquaintances with him. "...And I'm Amerie de Albuquerque, the countess of Provence," she introduced, smiling coyly.

"The honor is mine," Adam replied politely, trying not to stare on the lady's towering headpiece longer than appropriate.

"Such charming, youthful countenance! I envy you, my prince," she reciprocated him with a mouthful compliment.

Adam was about to comment on that but immediately reminded that these bunch of simpering ladies were oblivious about his enchantment and perhaps own no memory at all that his castle had been disappearing into the landscape for the past decade.

"So, I heard you are engaged to Duchess Belle Therese of Brabant? What a fortunate maiden! Who is her parents exactly? Where does she live?" Countess Madeleine just plowed through her felicitations and fired line of questions with no mercy.

Adam didn't know how long the gossip had circulated behind his back that Belle suddenly earned a title and numerous surnames that seemed to be dropped from the sky. But this was new, at least it wasn't a judgemental rumor that burnt his ears a few moments ago.

"Mademoiselle Belle Beaumont," Adam amended. "And her father is a painter and clock maker."

"Your future wife-? A peasant?" Countess Madeleine clarified, he eyed Adam as though he had grown another head. "So the rumor is true?"

"Yes," Adam confirmed. "Belle is a commoner. Any problem with that?"

"Oh, no….no….no. Of course not," the lady with piling headpiece replied. "But, it's rather… rather unseemly, for a royal court to have a first wife of such heritage, don't you agree?" the countess turned to Yvonne, asking for approval.

"Hope you don't mind me saying this, Adam. But in our society, marriage is always a perfect avenue to expand one's political horizon and embrace new allies," Yvonne piped in to clarify the other ladies' point of view.

"What about Lady Mary Francis Stuart from Hampshire," the countess said insistently, fanning herself with her fancy feather fan, whispering loudly. "She would make an excellent ally, and with no brother and uncle, you would be next in the throne. A perfect choice!"

Adam resisted not to glare at her, but her obvious display of pageantry giving him cues that the lady didn't share any common goals, values, and priorities with him.

"I actually don't mind marrying a commoner than a bourgeois. In fact, I am delighted with my choice. Rather unconventional I know, but I really much prefer to exercise my freedom in choosing who I marry."

"Oh, my dear prince!" The Countess flicked her head with much bravado that Adam secretly wished her towering updo would pull her dimwitted head off. "A royal at your age should concern more about your kingdom, reputation and who will be sharing your throne than your bed."

"What?" Adam couldn't resist the urge to exclaim.

"Calm down, Your Grace. You are royalty, you are entitled to have more than one mistress," came Countess Madeleine's patronizing counsel.

Her call that supposed to soothe Adam's nerve, instead, fueled his anger. His eyes narrowed and cheeks reddening with rage. His polite disposition shifted to a fiery fury. As much as he detested it, all these princely duty, nonsensical match-making was orchestrated to fit someone's political agenda and Adam, for the sake of them all, has to put on his princely face. Unfortunately, what came from his mouth was alarmingly different from the expression plastered across his face.

"What if I refuse? I would gladly renounce my post as the prince of the principality if necessary," he said it with such venom, putting a generous emphasis on each word.

Adam wasn't pleased with all of the meddling of his private life, especially not when his mind was still dancing across the empty ballroom with Belle in his arms.

It was Yvonne, with her sensitivity, finally stopped her distant relatives' harassment from invading Adam's personal space further.

"Oh forgive us, my nephew. We are just teasing…" she said with diplomacy, ushering the ladies to take a seat around the table. Yvonne waved her hand and one of the servants bent down to over a tray of drink and delicacies that quickly occupying those sniveling ladies' attention.

"Not a problem at all," Adam said under a scoff, nose flared and then making a very flourished and exaggerated bow before storming outside. He paced faster, unfortunately, his leg hated him for it. He was reminded that yesterday, they had spent the entire day scaling the depth of the city, checking on every single important landmark from the sunrise to sundown.

The rest of the evening, Adam was pretty much staying incognito, letting the pandemonium in his head to ease off. From time to time, he would appear to grab some drinks from the tray but otherwise kept his existence low profile to avoid being accosted by any of his overly patronizing family members.

Right after the ball, they retreated into the comfort of Adam's room.

Belle was there, just a few pace away from him, folding up his clothes and packed them up inside their suitcase, ready for the trip back to France. For a moment, he was completely lost at her unconscious grace. How could she made such a mundane activity appeared so….so….captivating.

"I think that was a splendid party," Belle declared. "And I think you've passed everyone expectation, my Prince."

Recognizing Adam wasn't about to respond, Belle went on. "Where were you anyway when I talked to Madame Yvonne de Fon...Fon..-"

"The lady with copious bosom who love to hug people compulsively?" Adam inquired. Belle smiled and shook her head at his usual sarcastic remark.

"Aha! Madame Yvonne de Fontainebleau Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff," Adam explained. "She is my mother's sister, the one that married to the German prince. A very nice lady, although her dramatic action and excessive hugging could be quite unnerving."

Belle presumed that's where get that Wolf-thingy. "I heard she is a keen artist."

"Yes, she would make a good acquaintance with your father," Adam said with a smirk. "Just don't ask her surname."

"Why nobility loves long, mouthful names?"

"Hmmm," Adam became thoughtful. "I guess it gives them… the sense of satisfaction, pride, pleasure even. It signified their inheritance, their bloodline. Like the famous Pablo Picasso…?"

"What's about him?" Belle looked positively intrigued.

"His full name is Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso," Adam grinned triumphantly watching an awestruck expression plastered across Belle's face. It wasn't easy to impress someone as clever as she was, and for that Adam patted himself on the back. "Thank my expensive education."

His obvious bragging earned a peal of her sweet laughter and Adam couldn't feel prouder.

"What do you think about my… family?" he asked, sounding more serious.

Done with her task, Belle joined Adam on his bed and sank on the pillow next to him."They are splendid, Adam. A little quirky, but I knew they meant well."

"Sure, you don't hear all of them, especially Madame Amerie de Albuquerque, she is lucky I no longer have fangs," Adam growled.

Belle straightened up from her seat to look at him. "Something that she said upsets you?"

Plenty! He wanted to say.

"No… nothing important," Adam feigned a nonchalance, not wanting Belle to worry over a pointless conversation.

"Just discussing the endless curse of political marriage." The countess' patronizing voice echoed like inside the cavity in his head. Adam masked the expression with a humorless chuckle.

"That is where everyone gets their long… meaningless… name," he added, reflecting on the empty debate earlier. Adam sighed pensively, life seemed to be much more predictable, simpler and more peaceful during the curse.

Belle's brows twisted at that. For a moment, Adam apprehensively speculating on what brimming inside of her witty-head, but he didn't anticipate what came next.

"Would I have a long name if I marry you?"

This time it wasn't the length of name that struck him, but hidden meaning implied. Does she wish to marry me?

"Good morning, Adam!"

A jubilant voice greeted Adam as soon as he arrived in the breakfast room. "How's your sleep?" his aunt asked. Before Adam could react, she hugged and kissed his cheek dramatically.

"Never been better, thank you for your hospitality to me and Belle," Adam matched her show of friendliness.

The mentioned of Belle's name seemed to strike a chord in his aunt's mind. She paused and reached for Adam's hand to express her sincerity. "Please forgive us yesterday, we got a little carried away. It wasn't a deliberate attempt to break you off your lovely fiance."

"That's okay, Aunt Yvonne," Adam breathed. He had forgotten their heated conversation last night the moment Belle asked whether she would have a long name if she married him.

Yvonne sighed, touching Adam's cheek with her thumb like she used to do when he was a little boy."You truly have grown, Adam. It seemed like yesterday that your mother and I watched you and your cousin - Claudette and Clothilde - playing tea party down the hall, forcing the servant to try out the concoction that you made by grinding all sort of moving things you could find in the garden."

Those were Adam's fondest memories about his mother and her carefree laugh that echoed through the corridor as Adam told her about his prank. His blissful daze was interrupted when he saw the portrait of his father's regal stature hung against the wall on the hidden alcove of the breakfast room, but it still didn't escape his sight.

Adam managed to keep his wits about him, not wanting to cry and resent over a man who incapable of loving, unfailingly cruel and unfaithful in the end. Adam didn't want to regret all that he lost. He always knew his father looked at him as a political tool, a future investment to ensure his legacy to live on. The thought ignited a strange combination of anger and longing. Angry for his father's abandonment and lack of involvement in his life and longing for the fatherly love he was denied.

"Adam?" But before Yvonne questioned what bothering his mind, her eyes followed Adam's and she immediately knew the reason why.

Somehow, something inside encouraged Adam to at least share truth of the matter. With a heavy exhale, Adam replied, "It was just some unpleasant reminder of the past...that's all."

Without hesitation, Yvonne grasped his hand, a gesture of comfort. An old sentiment strung the pair together, some foreign connection from years past. She fixed her nephew with a kind, maternal affection Adam remembered seen of her in his childhood, "He can't hurt you anymore, Adam."

Placing his idle hand to encase hers, Adam nodded and smiled, "He stopped hurting me the day I met Belle."

Yvonne couldn't almost hold her regal composure. She had known Adam since he could barely feed himself and watch years transformed the child into a handsome young man. The last memory Yvonne had of Adam was of the blooming twenty something years old prince - always flagrantly pursued the attention of the fairer sex. However, there was hardly any depth or sincere affection - his pursuit always seemed to be lust-driven, superficial and temporal as opposed to anything substantial.

Belle was his first exception.

And the incident last night was a revelation to Yvonne that Belle wasn't just Adam's any other girlfriend. She had influenced him and transformed him in the most profound way. It was hardly surprising Adam regarded of the maiden highly, and Yvonne didn't even know the entire story. But one thing she was certain: it was love that had changed her nephew.

"I know you've changed Adam, and that is for the better. You've grown mature in your choices. I still remember those days when you came to visit with your mama, you're still dribbling all over your fine outfit until your shirt was soaked. Imagine that," Yvonne said fondly.

"Thank you for the reminder," Adam tried to fake a scoff of disapproval. Their conversation was interrupted when the glimpse of Belle came into view.

"Morning My Lady," Belle curtsied. "I was just about to inform Adam that our carriage is ready."

"Are you both couldn't join me for breakfast?"

"I'm afraid I have numerous meeting waiting for me back home, Aunty," explained Adam. "We have to reach the border before dark."

"Such a shame! Well, thank you for coming. I have enjoyed your company," she said, excusing herself to profusely hugged both Adam and Belle again.

Just as Belle made her move towards the door, Yvonne grabbed Adam's hand."I have something for you," she said in a low whisper. Yvonne instructed one of the chambermaids, and before long the servant returned with an elegant blue velvet box.

"Open it," Yvonne instructed Adam. Inside, Adam saw an elegant twist of gold with a large emerald sitting on its crest. He immediately recognized the masterpiece.

"Maman's wedding band?" he looked at his aunt, utterly bemused.

"I've kept it for her," Yvonne said whispering, flicking her sight on Belle for a split second, watching the girl stubbornly tried to help to load the luggage despite the servants' objection. "Now, that you've found the one - I think it's the right time for you to have it."

Adam paused for a long moment, not quite known how to react.

"A girl like her doesn't come every century, Adam," his aunt smiled gently. "You must be expedient before someone else does."

It's true. Adam had learned Belle was an extraordinary girl. Despite her undeniable beauty, she was hardly a feminine nonsense, in fact, quite the opposite. Belle was a straightforward and practical-minded woman who took pleasure and happiness in family, love, good conversation, a kept promise and a fond memory. At the end, those were things that matter - a legacy that would live on past her grave. If his mother still alive, Adam was certain she would remark how lucky he was to find a woman who easily found happiness in pure, simple things.

Unwittingly, a bead of tears fell on ring's polished surface.

Adam used to shed lots of tears every time he looked at any memorabilia that reminded him of his mother….and he did the same thing here too, but the feelings of why it came, was different. People said it's ok to cry sometimes - even when you are a grown man, but for Adam, shedding tears while being happy had meant so much more.

"Merci, Aunty. Wish me all the best," he said, leaning to hug her.

She reciprocated the gesture and kissed his cheek again. "Don't forget to invite me if you do."

Notes: Have you all seen the deleted scenes from BATB live action? I've just seen them on youtube. I've posted the link in my Tumblr 3431jessica for those who wanted to see. Also, there is quite a number of behind the scene video (of Dan in that lycra suit!) One of the deleted scene that touched my the most was the scene of Belle giving jam and bread to Agathe, which I am going to incorporate on my BATB fic 'A deal with the Enchantress'.

Sorry for the rambling, I was just way too excited after watching those videos!