Chip bounced around the East Wing, looking for any signs of life. That had been one thing this castle was severely lacking, especially after Cogsworth's death. Everyone was lost in their own deep, dark, depressing thoughts. And when they'd try to shine some light on them by talking to someone else, they were unreachable.

Monsieur Lumiere was the worst, though. Since recovering Cogsworth's body (Does a clock count as a body? That was what Chip wanted to know.) the Frenchman had found himself a secluded corner in the South Wing and had yet to move from it. He did not even awcknowledge if anyone else was talking to him.

Chip couldn't help but worry. Even though deep down he knew the end was inevitable, he hoped to make the most of the rest of his life. And that meant he needed his family, which meant he needed to find Belle.

The maiden in question was reading a book in front of her fireplace. Maurice had finally fallen asleep, getting the rest he desperately needed. Though he assured his daughter that he was fine, she saw the weariness in his eyes. As she flipped the page, there was a knock on the door. Placing her bookmark in its place, she went to see who was at the door. It was LeFou. She wasn't terribly surprised, when she explained to her village what had actually happened, they accepted it without question, seeing as everyone knew she was the smartest of them all. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what he wanted as she opened the door.

"Hello, LeFou," she said mildly. She really wasn't in the mood to talk or do much of anything else, really.

"Hello, Belle," he mumbled awkwardly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "There's… someone who wants to talk to you in the tavern."

"If Madame Beron is still trying to convince me to take all of those dresses she has, I really don't want to go."

"It's not her," he assured her, "And I think this might be important."

The two walked towards the tavern through the snowy, desolate streets. Most people had the common sense to stay indoors in this type of weather. Belle couldn't feel the snow hitting her face or the wind biting at her skin. All she felt was grief.

LeFou opened the door to the tavern for her and they stepped into the warmth. There was little chatter. Most people were near the armchair that had been reserved for Gaston. The antlers were all covered in dry, fading flowers.

"Your person is over there," LeFou said, gesturing to the chair.

"But there's no one there."

"Hi, Belle!"

All color drained from her face. Her head was pounding as she stared at the teacup.

"Chip, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"We need you, Belle!" he cried, "You have to come back!"

"No, the only thing I have to do is take care of my father."

"No, you have to! It's your royal duty!"

"Don't be absurd, Chip, I'm nowhere near royal."

"That's not what the Master said!"

Everyone stared quizzically at the teacup. They could believe a talking beverage; that was possible. But Belle as a royal was inconceivable.

"You have to be out of your mind, boy," Stanley said, "She said it herself."

"But the family book said so!"

"Chip, princes don't always fall in love with princesses," Belle told him gently.

"Not my fairy tale book!" he said, frustrated, "The book with the entire royal family! The Lady Margaret looked just like you!" Eyes slowly turned to Belle.

"She does have that look," one of the three blonde triplets said, "Like royalty." Belle blushed as red as the girl's dress.

"I only met her once, but there is a resemblance," Tom muttered thoughtfully.

"This simply makes no sense! There has to be an explanation!"

"It might be in the library," Chip suggested, "And I didn't get to tell you the best part!"

"I have to figure this out," Belle muttered, "I just don't see how-"

"I can take care of your father," one of the triplets offered, "I know a lot about medicine."

Yes, Belle thought, their father had been severely ill a few years before.

"That would be so helpful," she confessed.

"And we can send you news and supplies every week," Stanley said.

"You really don't have to go to all this trouble."

"Are you kidding?" LeFou said, "This is gonna be fun!"

Babette twirled around on the ballroom floor, daydreaming about how things could have been. In her fantasy, she was human again. Her lilac silk dress trailed on the ground as she danced with Lumiere. She had lilac flowers in her hair and they were accompanied by gold lace matching his suit. They floated gracefully across the floor as music soared through the air. She laughed like she hadn't since long before the spell had become a part of her life.

Her fantasy came crashing down when she heard footsteps. She glided towards the door and peeked out, ready to defend her home if necessary. Instead, she was surprised to recognize the elegant feet that were strolling down the hall. She snuck past and rushed towards the South Wing as fast as she could. If something could get Lumiere out of his despair, Belle returning was as good a shot as any.

"Lumiere! Lumiere!" she called, "Cheri! Where are you?"

The dark hall was momentarily illuminated in response. She nearly flied towards her lover.

"Cheri, you will not guess who is here!"

He didn't even blink. The mater dei was standing still as a statue, his eyes as cold as the weather outside.

"Mon ami, you may not believe who has returned!" she whispered breathlessly, staring at him as she desperately prayed for some sort of response. There was none.

"Belle has come back! She is walking around the castle! Cheri, come see the mademoiselle. Please, come with me." Tears rolled down her face. She longed for him to wipe them away for her, but he did not move.

"Oh, Lumiere!" she cried, throwing herself at him. She landed with her head on his shoulder. She quaked with tears.

"Please say something, my love," she begged him, "Show me that you're there still. Please."

She did not process what was happening at first when she felt herself wrapped around. Then she opened her eyes and saw the man she loved staring at her.

"Oh, Lumiere!" she cried.

"Babette," he whispered, "Oh, Babette."