Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast.

Once upon a time in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was cold, uncaring and selfish. One winter's night an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. As punishment she transformed him into a hideous Beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose which would bloom for many years. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a Beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love…a Beast?

The Beast heard a light tap at his door. That would be Jacques, he thought. After all these years, his sensitive ears knew the knock of every servant.

"Come in," he rumbled.

In came his steward, immaculate as usual. In his gloved hands he carried a piece of paper, every inch covered in writing.

"What's on the docket for today?" asked the Beast. Jacques handed over the paper, which the Beast held towards the window and tried not to tear holes in it with his claws. "I swear, Jacques, your handwriting gets smaller every year. Could you possibly have crammed more onto this paper?"

Jacques shrugged, a tiny smile on his mobile mouth. After ten years of being rendered mute by the same curse that had transformed his master into a Beast, Jacques had mastered the art of minute expressions and gestures speaking volumes. At least he wasn't invisible too, like all the other servants.

Despite his complaints about the handwriting, the Beast read the paper quickly. It was all fairly typical for this time of year: the harvest was nearly completed, they shouldn't have problems paying taxes this year, the peasants' yearly tributes were trickling in. The heavy spring rains had taken a lighter toll on their grain than anticipated. That was a relief; it was ten times harder ruling a territory, however small and insignificant, when you could never be seen by your people.

The Beast glanced at the rose, sitting carefully preserved under a glass bell jar, then back at the paper.

Wait. The Beast looked again. The paper fluttered to the floor.

"No!"

He rushed to the table but dared not lift the jar. "Do you see it, Jacques?"

Jacques nodded, his face unhappy. They stared at each other, then back at the rose. It was definitely looking droopy; a few of the pink petals at the bottom edge had started to curl and turn brown.

The Beast thought back. How long had it been since he'd looked closely at the rose? A week or two at least, perhaps longer? It had always stayed the same, though it lost one perfect petal every year on the anniversary of the curse. He hadn't really paid it that much mind for a long time, despite it theoretically being the thing that marked the time he had until the curse became permanent.

But now it definitely appeared to be dying. How long he had, he had no idea. It was certainly imminent now.

"I suppose this is it?" he said to Jacques. "The end of the road."

Jacques pursed one side of his mouth and tilted his head a little.

"I don't remember," the Beast answered. "I don't think she gave a specific deadline. But it must be coming close to ten years; I suppose the blasted thing got tired of waiting." He glared at it. "Go ahead! It's not as if anything is going to change. I'm still stuck here. I don't dare go out to look for a girl to break the curse, and I don't dare bring one in. Go ahead and wilt! I don't care anymore!" Belying his words, he picked up one of the small knickknacks from his desk and threw it against the wall. The bronze statue broke in half on impact and fell with a clatter.

The Beast slumped to the floor. After a moment he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched away with a grunt but the hand merely replaced itself. After a moment the Beast roused himself with a groan and a shake of his mane. "I thought I'd resigned myself to the curse never being broken," he said, half to himself. "I thought I'd learned to live with it. But now...now that there really is a deadline I realize I still had some hope. I've been such a fool."

There was a long silence. At last Jacques sighed loudly, one of the few sounds he was able to make. It wasn't impatience; the Beast could hear real sadness and disappointment.

"Any brilliant solutions we haven't thought of yet?" the Beast asked after another moment, twisting to look at Jacques. The steward shook his head.

"Well, keep thinking. Maybe one of us will pull out a miracle."

Jacques pulled a piece of paper out of a pocket. Going to the desk, he wrote, and then displayed, Perhaps, sir, with an approaching deadline it will stimulate us to think of something that hadn't occurred to us before.

"You may be right," the Beast agreed. He climbed ponderously to his feet. "Well, it's no excuse to ignore the business of running the province. Things haven't stopped yet because we all fell under a curse, why should today be any different?" It came out more bitter than he intended.

Jacques looked sympathetic. He picked up the original paper he'd brought in with him from the floor and handed it over. The Beast continued reading until he got to the bottom. "Debtors' court cases? Jacques, I'm in no mood to deal with the peasants today, let alone the ones behind on their rent. Can't we postpone until tomorrow?"

The gaoler won't be pleased. He wants these men off his hands.

"Fine, fine. When does it begin?"

This afternoon.

"Make sure everything is set up as usual. I'll be in position after luncheon."

A nod, then Jacques tilted his head towards the door.

"Yes, you can go."

Once the door had closed behind his steward, the Beast sighed and ran a massive paw through his mane. There were many times when he wished he had just shut himself away in the castle, perhaps faked his own death or something similar, when the curse was first cast. Or perhaps run away to live in the woods like the wild animal that he was, and try to forget he'd ever been human. But if he had done nothing else, his father had instilled in him a sense of duty towards his land and its people. So instead of disappearing in shame as he wanted to do, between them he and Jacques and the invisible servants had worked out strategies so that the province could continue running and no one would suspect anything was wrong. They all agreed that if anyone found out about the Beast, they would almost certainly not believe he was really a human prince under a magic spell. They would correctly decide some sort of devilry was afoot, but the likely outcome would be the Beast would be hunted down as a dangerous predator. Or worse, burned to death as a demon from Hell. Thus, the difficulty with finding a girl to fall in love with him and break the curse.

As a Prince, he hadn't had too much interaction with the peasantry outside the castle. This worked to his advantage after the curse; no one thought it too unusual when they did not see their ruler for years on end. The average peasant likely would not have recognized the Prince's father when he was alive had he gotten out of his carriage and stood before them. However, there were times when it was necessary for him to actually govern them in person. Such as when he had to serve as the final arbiter of justice—to hear the case of a murderer or a thief, or, as today, a jailed debtor, and pass some kind of sentence.

For this, Jacques had solved the problem by putting up curtains around the throne in the throne room. They were made of a very fine material that was just transparent enough that people could see there was someone sitting on the throne but not too much detail. As long as the Beast wrapped himself in a heavy cloak (blazing hot as it was in the summer with his fur) and wore a crown to conceal the odd shape of the ox's horns sprouting from his brow, no one suspected the truth. Jacques had assured him that it looked very convincing from the rest of the room.

It certainly seemed to work. If they perhaps remarked amongst themselves on the oddness of speaking to their ruler through a curtain, it did not disturb the peasants overmuch beyond the novelty. And after nearly ten years of this arrangement, the Beast trusted that even the novelty had likely worn off. If there were whispers that perhaps he had been scarred in a horrific accident or disfigured with the pox, he did not particularly care to know. Such rumors were harmless enough.

The important thing for the ruse to work was that the Beast be in place long before anyone from outside the castle entered to meet with him. Thus after the midday meal he went to the throne room and with Jacques' help ensconced himself in cloak, crown and curtains until Jacques was satisfied with how it all looked from the outside.

Then Jacques went away to let the gaoler, his assistants, and the prisoners themselves into the castle. They would be led into the throne room one by one where the debts against them would be read aloud and they could speak in their own defense if they wished. For each case there would usually also be several people to whom the debtor owed money to verify exactly how much was owed and see how the debt would be settled by the Prince's judgment. Other people could come to witness if they wished, and sometimes family and friends of the debtor did, but the opportunity for spectacle was not as great as it was when the criminal trials were heard so there would be few folk coming for sport. There was too much work to do to waste a day listening to other people argue about money, especially since this was harvest time.

Fortunately there were only three cases to be heard today. The first two were fairly straightforward. They were heads of large families who had fallen on hard times. The fathers were set to work a certain amount of time for their debtors until their debts were paid while their wives and children were left to run their farms so the families wouldn't starve. The Beast privately thought perhaps the time of separation might temporarily prevent them from conceiving more children they couldn't afford. He doubted he would see either of these two men again once they got back on their feet.

When the name of the final case was read out, the Beast suppressed a sigh. Monsieur Gaston DuPont. Again. While he technically owned one of the local taverns, he was a perpetual drunk and was always underwater when it came to money. He never quite managed to dig himself out of debt, and then he'd end up hauled before the Prince.

This time he'd racked up an impressive amount; more than the Beast could ever remember from previous occasions. As he listened, the Beast began to doubt any of his usual punishments would begin to cover the money owed. What other solution could he possibly offer?

He remained silent, deep in thought, as the list ended and those owed who were present offered corroboration. DuPont himself said nothing. At last, the Beast shifted on his throne and said, "Monsieur DuPont. Again you are brought before me for debt, with seemingly no means of repayment."

"Yes, sire," agreed DuPont.

"It seems I have no choice then but to order you to sell your tavern or offer its ownership to those you owe the most to, then work off the rest of your debt by hiring yourself out as a common laborer—"

"No, sire!" To his surprise, the peasant dared interrupt him. "I won't sell my tavern. It has been in my family for generations."

"But if you cannot—"

"I have a daughter!" the man blurted.

"A daughter? What has that to do with—" The man had never mentioned a daughter before in all of his troubles.

"My daughter has many useful feminine skills. She can cook and clean and sew. I'll indenture her out to you. Surely her sale would bring enough money to cover my debts, and I would no longer have to provide for her as well as myself."

At first the Beast was horrified by the very idea. He couldn't have a girl, an uncursed girl, here, for any length of time! There were too many strange things for her not to notice, even if he kept himself from her sight. He certainly had enough servants, though DuPont would not know that.

But…his mind arrowed back to the wilting rose. There was so little time left. Very soon, he'd be trapped as a Beast forever. Might this girl offer the creative solution they'd been seeking? If she was legally indentured, she'd have to stay here, unable to spread the tale of a monster in the castle. He could keep her at least until he determined whether it was even possible for her to learn to love him. If not, he could easily sell her indenture papers to someone far away, enough that anything she told likely would not be believed. It was not a particularly good idea; many, many things could go wrong. But…he was desperate. This was possibly his last chance to get his humanity back.

For the millionth time he wished he could consult with Jacques while trapped behind this curtain, but they'd both agreed from the beginning that it should not be attempted. He was on his own.

"Very well," he finally said, deciding as he did so that he'd probably lost his mind. "Bring the girl here tomorrow, and we will have the indenture papers ready to sign and the money for your creditors. Is this agreeable to all?"

Murmurs of assent from both DuPont and those assembled. A skilled servant was a valuable asset, and the Beast would make sure the money would cover all of DuPont's debts. Perhaps then he wouldn't be back in debtor's court again for quite some time.

And perhaps his daughter could be the chance the Beast had been looking for all these years. The chance to find a woman who could love him and break the spell. Maybe it was possible. Maybe…

Author's Note: So here I am after all this time, back again with a new story. In case you're curious, this is going to be a blend of the Disney version, with elements of the original French tale, and a big daub of my own imagination.

I decided to play around with circumstances a bit, since people watching the Disney movie over the years have rightfully brought up the point that a prince disappears without a trace, his castle becomes dark and foreboding overnight and apparently deserted by all but the furniture, and…nobody noticed? Clearly there were people living nearby. So I thought, what if the Beast hid the curse as best he could and continued ruling instead of trying to disappear? Nobility at the time were educated with a sense of duty to those below them, even if they didn't particularly care about them. The prince could still be selfish, but not in the childish way the Beast in the movie is—here, he's an adult who just doesn't care much about the people around him. And because he'd kept up with human interaction, even peripherally, he didn't descend into the feral animal-like state that we first see in the movie. In order not to give himself away, he'd have to learn to control the Beast.

Yes, Gaston is Belle's father in this version. Bear with me. I have Reasons.

Historical Note: I'm actually not sure if they had indentured servants in 18th century France, but if I had to guess I'd say probably not, or if so, the practice was nowhere near as common as it was in the British Isles and colonies a century earlier. It was definitely on the way out in colonial America and the Caribbean, being largely replaced by chattel slavery of black Africans. I wasn't entirely comfortable with Gaston outright selling his daughter to the Beast as the means to get her into the castle, so I did some historical fudging. The outcome is the same without using the distasteful word "slavery" (which, to be clear, is essentially what it was, it just had a time limit on the ownership instead of being a life sentence and the terms were laid out in a legal document). Sending someone into service to settle a debt isn't an entirely out-there notion in Europe, however, so I hope it's not completely unbelievable.