(Disclaimer: All rights are reserved by Disney. I own nothing.)

Frosted Rose

Chapter One - Welcome Home

The ball was magnificent. But then, how could it not be? It was being held for me after all.

Hundreds of guests had gathered at the castle to celebrate my return from my travels. Kings, queens, counts, princes, princesses and dukes from all across the country were all there to welcome me home. Well, home might have been a stretch, since this castle was not technically my home.

My castle, in the kingdom of Fairalia, had been unable to host the welcoming gala as it had been undergoing renovations since I had left.

I had been gone for three good years. Three years of travailing the world; meeting royalty from other continents, learning strange customs, indulging in unusual delicacies and even... coupling with foreign beauties. I had been everywhere. Tasted every flavour of the discovered world. Being a prince of a prestigious and thriving kingdom, every door had been open to me everywhere I went, and I had enjoyed myself immensely. It was only by my head of council's desperate pleading letters that I was finally compelled to board a boat back home. The only hitch had, of course, been, that during my travels, natural disaster had struck my kingdom.

It had been a small earthquake, not even spreading far enough to affect the very kingdom I stood in, but it had been enough to bring down several walls of my castle. Unfortunately, the only part of the castle that seemed to sustain serious damage was the east wing; where my rooms had been. All of this information had reached me right after dismounting my ship back home of course, so my welcome home gala was now being held in my neighbouring kingdom.

It was also where I would be staying for the next few months, or however long it took my servants to rebuild my house.

I didn't care though. Honestly, growing up, I had spent just as much time in this castle than in my own, as my father had been good friends with the current king, and I with his son.

Speaking of...

"I beg your pardon, Monsieur Vermont." I interrupted the blathering idiot on my council who had been babbling at me for the past fifteen minutes, "but I am afraid there are many people here tonight I have yet to greet. If you will please excuse me?" I left his side without waiting for a reply, leaving his chubby, red washed face gaping open in mid-speech. I chuckled silently to myself. My arrival had been long anticipated, particularly by the people of my kingdom, and everyone wanted a piece of me tonight. I had left the kingdom under the control of my father's council – as I was still too young to claim the throne – and had them send me letters only of matters relevant to me. I did not need to be informed of every single minor detail of court, particularly when I would have little say over anything until my twenty-first name day. Technically, I could have dispersed them all and claimed full monarchy rights without needing to turn the legal age, but then I would have been stuck with all the responsibility and unnecessary hassle. Better to leave the lesser issues for the lesser people to deal with.

Moving swiftly through the crowd, I tried to spot my old childhood friend amongst the vast assembly of people dancing, eating and talking merrily away. Aside from fleetingly spotting him when the king had given his welcome speech, I had not seen my good friend since the day I set off to see the world. He would have come with me, but his father, King Silas, had, unfortunately, forbade it. Silas was adamant that he stay, and learn the ways of being a king. His own coronation was only a few short months away, and then it would be for his father to decide whether or not he was ready to take the throne. My dear old friend had been stuck here in the same old place he had been all his life, while I had travelled and experienced marvellous things. And though I had missed him, I was rather eager to rub his face in it.

Competitive, you could say, was what we were in a nutshell.

His father, King Silas, had been like an uncle to me since I was around five years of age, my father and he once sharing a great friendship. The reason why he had agreed to board me while my castle was rendered habitable again, and the reason he had planned such a marvellous celebration to welcome me with.

The ballroom was lavishly decorated. Stunning dark blue fabric in my kingdom's home colour hung from the large balcony that curved over the golden hall. The many giant pillars that supported it sparkled like gilded marble, shining under the thousands of candelabras that had been lit for the occasion. The vast, high arched windows that covered half of the oval-shaped hall perfectly illuminated the starry night sky. In the corner of the ballroom, several dozen musicians played festive music as many people danced under a shining diamond chandelier and chubby faced cherubs looked down upon the whole scene from a lovely artistic mural that had been painted decades before my time. The whole event was without a doubt a ball to be remembered, and only the highest class of aristocracy had been invited to share in the occasion of my homecoming.

Across the crowded ballroom, I spotted the one person who might have some idea as to the location of the missing prince. Past the old fogies and beauteous princesses alike, the King disentangled himself from a young queen he had been dancing with. He artfully bowed to the woman, placed a fleeting kiss on the back of her hand and gave a nod to the woman's husband, who had come to claim her once again.

The old man did have an admirable way with women. I watched the young Queen swoon with an amused smirk on my face. Approaching his fifty-third year, Silas was an incredibly well-preserved man and had passed many of his charms to his son. His strong jaw, chiselled chin, well aged long dark hair and light blue eyes had all served to attract many women to his side, and to his bed. His wife, Queen Marissa, had passed before I was even born, only a few months after giving birth to my old friend, in fact. My friend had never known his mother and had been raised mostly by the castle staff, as Silas was always incredibly busy with matters of province. Honestly, my parents had been exactly the same, only I had looked upon my mother's face many a time before she and my father's passing.

"Adam!" The king called out, spotting me from my place at the edge of the ballroom. I had already exhausted myself dancing with practically every eligible maiden in the kingdom, and a few not so eligible ones - with their husband's permission, of course - and was now stealing a few moments of rest before I was pulled right back into the throngs of the celebration. It being my welcoming gala, I was the star attraction tonight, and all eyes were on me.

I knew I was a prize. An unmarried young prince, heir to a throne with no existing hierarchy to potentially interrupt my rights to rule – and also far from lacking in the looks department – made me an extremely attractive commodity. After all, what young girl would not dream of being a queen, draped over the arm of one of the wealthiest, most handsome young royals in the country? None here, apparently, which was why I was pretty much ready to call it a night. It wasn't as though I had not already indulged myself in some of the kingdom's splendour. Indeed, I had already danced half a dozen times with each of the Duke of Maddington's triplets, hence the fatigue. Each one had batted their eyelashes and draped themselves all over me, expressing their excitement at my return, and telling me how they would love to go off with me for a 'private talk'. I knew, because of my past relations with each of them, that each expected to be picked as my future bride.

Only I knew the unlikeliness of that happening.

They were attractive; don't get me wrong, each with identical long blond hair and light green eyes, but there was just something so... boring about them. It wasn't the fact that none of them could carry a conversation for longer than a minute before commenting on how beautiful and desirable they were. They had always been vain, and stupid, all three of them. Since we were children, in fact, each one rivalling the other to be the best, and get the most attention. Honestly, their bratty attitudes and empty brains had never been a problem, because I had always enjoyed the attention they gave me, but really, it was more of the fact that they were just a little too easy. What was the fun in prey that willingly ran up to you and laid itself down at your feet? I had always longed for a chase. Never commitment, of course, but a challenge. A mountain to climb. I had simply never found that in a woman, nor did I wish to. I was too young for commitment, and was perfectly content to simply skip from bed to bed until I was required by law to get a wife. Gods only knew how awful that day would be when it finally came.

"Your Majesty." I greeted the king cordially as he approached, bowing my head as was expected of my lower station. Even a prince, and an heir to a throne, must show respect.

He waved his hand dismissively at my posture and I rose in time to watch him snag two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing servant and hand one to me. He raised it in a silent toast and I parroted his actions before taking a small sip.

"How are you, young man? I didn't get the chance to ask after formally introducing you." He bellowed, clapping his hand on my back in an affectionate manner. I almost choked into my glass. The old man was stronger than he looked.

"I'm doing well, thank you," I told him, hiding my stagger. "And thank you for the praise and high words of your welcoming speech, as well as allowing me to stay here while my castle is being rebuilt."

"Ah, Adam, you know you're always a welcome guest. You were raised in this castle just as much as you were your own. I am more than welcome to accommodate you while your castle is being rebuilt. Speaking of which, do you have any idea how long it will take?" He questioned, giving me his full attention.

"I'm not certain. My councilmen informed me that the builders they hired to do the work were 'doing their best', but I was given no definitive time of completion." I informed him, relaying the basic message of the letter I had received.

The king beside me scoffed. "I'm not surprised. It's impossible to get those people to do anything within good time, always fussing and complaining instead of doing as their told." He mocked. "Peasants." The word was a sneer.

I looked at the king beside me. He had always had a lack of tolerance for the common people, though, in all fairness, most royals did. I could recall little of my own father's views on the matter, though I did know that he had always tried to improve life for those in our kingdom under particularly deplorable conditions. Silas, however, did no such thing. Despite being born to royalty and the extreme wealth of his ancestors, he had always believed that a man should support his family without the need of assistance and that any misfortune visited on the family is their own responsibility. He simply had a way about him, a way of making lesser men feel inferior. And it did not stop with his contempt for the poor. I could remember the menacing looks he had so mastered when I was only a lad, and had always been thankful that those looks had never been turned toward me. He was a very refined and sophisticated man, but his temper was legendary. So much so, that I had even felt sympathy for my old friend when we were young. Neither one of us were angels as boys, and had gotten into our fair share of trouble. Only my father had never been one to raise his voice when disciplining me, preferring mostly to weight me under his disapproving gaze until I cracked and begged forgiveness. That had become less and less effective as I grew older, however, but this man's penetrating stare never lost its power over me, and I considered myself lucky to be in his good graces. So all I did was nod in agreement.

"Besides," He continued as an afterthought, "as long as you're still here, it will save you having to make the trip back for the Winter Solstice party and Gaston's name day celebration. It is only four months away, after all." He mentioned casually.

I was about to open my mouth to ask if the king had seen his son anywhere, when a familiar voice chuckled from behind us.

"I heard my name. I do hope you were speaking well of me."

Speak of the devil...

"Gaston!" I turned to greet my old friend. "It's been too long."

We embraced in only the way brothers could, slapping each other on the back. I hid my grimace at being crushed, as Gaston was built far larger than me. After gracefully staggering back, and hiding the pain of any fractured bones, I took some stock in my oldest friend. And dear gods, he looked as big as an ox. He seemed to have twice as many muscles as he had the last day I saw him. He wore a deep red tailcoat trimmed with gold fabric, a brown waistcoat over a white shirt, with matching tights and black boots. I pitied the tailor who had to make the clothing to fit my large friend. Honestly, he looked as though he would burst out through the seams at any minute. A small chuckle escaped me as I took him in, standing there next to his father. They had all the same features, same black hair, strong chin, ice blue eyes. If it wasn't for Gaston's size, one might mistake them both for twins.

"Adam. It's been an age!" Gaston belted out, his deep baritone attracting attention from some of the party guests hovering around. He was grinning at me, obviously taking me in as I had him.

"It truly has been! And I see that the years have been very good to you." I half chuckled, gesturing to his enormous body. He had grown at least half a foot since I last saw him, and his muscles, well, it was clear he hadn't spent the last three years inside studying.

He chortled loudly at my words and we stood there laughing together like the good old days before I had left. It was as though nothing had changed at all.

It was only the king clearing his throat pointedly that brought our attention back to the social standards we were supposed to be exhibiting.

"Why don't I leave you two alone to catch up? Gaston," He addressed his son, slapping him on the back jovially, "try not to disappear from your own friend's welcoming gala again, I'd hate to have to send a search party out for you." He reprimanded lightly, though he was smiling. Gaston grinned unrepentantly and gave him a mocking flourishing little bow.

"Yes, father dearest." He gushed sardonically and were it not for the king's continued smiling, I would have been worried for Gaston using such attitude with the man. It was only when the king was once more submerged in the large horde of elites that Gaston turned and spoke again.

"So, how have you been? Three years, you must have seen quite a bit, and I hear you'll be staying with us for a while? We'll have to see how rusty you've gotten with a bow and arrow."

I chuckled. "Ah Gaston, you haven't changed, still so focused on the hunt, but if I recall, the bow and arrow were always your area of expertise, everything else was mine." I boasted. He scoffed, taking the empty glass of champagne from my hand and replacing it with a full one from a passing server's tray. Taking one of his own, he dismissed the young man with a wave. I barely glanced at the boy, turning my attention back to my friend.

"I might have to make you eat those words Adam, but nevertheless, you have to come hunting with me tomorrow morning. I don't care how out of shape you are," he mocked with a grin, nodding his head down to my smaller body. It was hardly my fault he was the size of a horse. I fought down the urge to flash him a crude hand signal, "You have to be better than any of the imbeciles I've been dealing with these past few years. Competition is simply no fun when everyone around you are cretins and weaklings."

I made a noise of agreement at that, though I wasn't going to point out to Gaston that many would actually let him win rather than actively seek to beat a prince renowned for hating to lose. He was like that even when we used to compete as children, though I was exactly the same. We had competed against each other tooth and nail for everything. From athletic prowess to the affections of women, we had always attempted to one-up each other. One would think it would have made us enemies, but no. We respected each other's determination, and had become the best of friends for it. Really, even having been surrounded by loyal people all my life, and having met quite a few interesting people on my journeys, I considered Gaston to be my truest friend. Because he was exactly like me.

"Very well, I shall join you, but only because I feel so sorry for you, all those years I was gone, reducing you to spend all your time with that pudgy little kid who used to call himself your squire." I laughed, remembering the tiny little boy who used to follow us around everywhere we went as lads. He had idolised us both, hoisting us up as gods among men. I'll admit the boy's hero worship did go to our heads a little, but what are you to do when someone half your size stalks you like a dog and offers himself up as a punching bag? Gaston and I had always been rough with him; he was just so pathetic we couldn't help ourselves. And the funny thing was, no matter what we did to him, he had always seemed to consider himself our best friend. I could never even remember the boy's name, referring to him only by the nickname Gaston had come up with; Lefou.

Not very creative, but accurate.

Gaston chuckled darkly beside me, giving me a pointed look. I raised my eyebrows at him as he put the fluted glass of amber coloured liquid to his lips. "Oh, trust me Adam; it's not just him I've been spending my time with." The smirk on his face spoke of a secret I had yet to learn, though I suspected exactly what he was referring to. I was just about to call him out on it, when my wandering eyes caught the sight of something I had never seen before. It was only a passing glance, but my gaze immediately snapped back to assess what it was I had spotted.

She stood with her back to me, in a black and white servant dress similar to the one the rest of the servers were wearing tonight, with long brunette hair piled on top of her head in a simple neat ponytail. Honestly, aside from noticing she had an attractive body, there was nothing at all special about what I was seeing, and I was just about to look away when she moved first, turning to speak to an older man also wearing serving attire, and facing right at me.

When I saw her face, I almost dropped my glass.

She was the most beautiful girl I had ever set eyes on. Me, who had travelled the world and indulged in great treasures from all walks of life, had his breath stolen by a girl in a servant's dress.

She was all the way across the hall, and my vision of her kept getting obstructed by the many people dancing past, but my eyes remained glued on her. She wasn't looking at me, though her body was angled toward me, she was still talking to the man in the similar uniform.

She was stunning. Glistening big brown eyes that shun brighter than any gold fixture in the room, little pieces of chocolate brown hair falling gracefully from her ponytail and framing her creamy pale round face perfectly. Red lips and rosy cheeks that only helped make the girl appear as the most desirable young maiden I had ever set eyes on. For a long moment, it was as though I were seeing her in a place with no time and no distraction, and then the world came roaring back when I received a sharp punch on my shoulder.

"Hey, Adam, you in there? I've been talking to you, you know? Did you hear a word I just said?" Gaston's entertained voice came crashing back to me through whatever kind of strange trance the pretty young thing had put me in. I shook my head to clear it and looked back over at him, only to find him staring in the same direction my head must have been stuck for so long.

"Noticed her did you? Well, that didn't take long." He commented, but in a peculiar tone of voice. While on the outside he sounded, and even looked, amused, underneath his usual smirk I was sure I saw a hint of a sneer, as well as hearing an air of malice. It was odd, because, to me, Gaston had never looked that way before.

He was still staring off across the hall, and not being able to help myself, I turned my attention back to the girl, to see her now moving through the crowd with two trays full of empty glasses, presumably heading towards the kitchens to replace them with full ones. Amazing, but even while balancing two platters of dirty dishes and manoeuvring through a group of privileged expensive looking people, she was still the most stunning girl in the room.

"Who is she?" I asked Gaston in a daze, for surely he would know.

Having spent practically half my childhood in this castle, I knew the faces of the main house staff pretty well. I remembered Cogsworth, the head of staff and maître'd of sorts: a middle-aged, slightly overweight man who was a stickler for rules and everything in the house running smoothly and on time. Then there was Mrs Potts, who mostly saw after the kitchen staff. She was a kind, older woman who had lost her husband when I was around fourteen or fifteen years old. I hadn't known much about him, having not exactly gone out of my way to get to know other people's servants. I did know that he left her with a small toddler, a boy who had been about five when I had left on my trip. I pitied her plight, for she was a good woman, even if she was a servant. And lastly, there was Mr Feu, who was in charge of the animals and saw to the castle grounds. The only reason I knew of him was that Gaston and I used to go riding quite a lot, and either he or his son would always be in the stables seeing to the horses or helping the other stable hands. What was his son's name again..? Lewis? Luwi? Lumière?

Anyway, I had met or seen all the important figures of the castle in all the years my parents and I had visited here. As our kingdom was the closest to this one, father was always bringing us along with him when he had business to attend with Silas. We spent weeks here, sometimes months at a time, and I knew this castle inside and out, and so I was positive, if that girl had been part of the castle staff when I was growing up here, I most certainly would have noticed.

"Her name is Belle," Gaston told me. Such a fitting name for one so worthy of it. Though I didn't much like the way Gaston said her name; his deep baritone made it into a caress. "She started working here over a year ago, moved in with her tinpot father," He offered as explanation. I didn't know what he meant by 'tinpot' and was just about to ask, when the girl reappeared from the door I knew led down to the kitchens. Now holding another two full trays of what looked like red wine, she moved expertly through the crowd, stopping to offer a full glass or take an empty one. I couldn't help but admire her. It was truly remarkable, for I had never even acknowledged a servant girl before. Servants were not meant to be noticed. But if that was the true role of a servant she was not doing a very good job of it, at least not with me. And apparently not with Gaston either.

"She's beautiful." I breathed, still in awe of her. Even though I didn't think 'beautiful' was a good enough word. A familiar fire surged through my body at the sight before me and without realising, I took a step forwards in the girl – Belle's – direction. A large hand on my shoulder warned me not to take another.

"Whoa there Adam, I hate to put a leash on you, I really do, but that one is mine." He declared possessively.

I turned back to look at him, attempting to assess how serious he was, and almost groaned in disappointment at the pure look of determination on his face. It was obvious that he could not be officially courting the girl, for her station was clearly far too low, but from the look in his eyes, I knew exactly what he was doing with her. He was serious. I could always tell with Gaston, because the only time he was truly sincere and sombre, was when he didn't have a smirk on his face. Most of the time he was pretty care free. It was clear he was determined in his claim of this girl, and it made me want to moan.

We had shared women before, Gaston and I, having both started becoming sexually active roughly the same time. With an endless supply of young girls and fully grown women literally throwing themselves at our feet, how could a fourteen-year-old boy react any differently? I knew Gaston had explored the Maddington triplets as thoroughly as I had, as well as some other, either needy or ambitious girls who hoped that by letting us use them, we would either feel obligated or fond enough to offer them a place at our side when we came of age. Gaston was only a few months older than me, and that meant that in just four months, on the twelfth of January, he would be expected to choose a bride, as was tradition before a prince could become king. In about eight months I would be expected to do the same, and believe me, that date was looming fast, but not as fast as I was sure four months was passing for Gaston.

He had to be really attached to this girl to lay claim to her against me, either that, or he just wanted to keep the stunning belle to himself. And what man wouldn't truly? She looked like the perfect prize; though really, she didn't look the type of girl who'd throw herself at a Prince, but what did I know? I knew nothing of her, and who could really tell what a person was capable of doing, simply by the way they looked?

"Are you sure I can't convince you to trade?" I almost whined, thinking about the exquisite brunette beauty, and how much more stunning she would look out of her maids uniform.

Gaston chuckled deeply, his light-hearted demeanour returning at my tone. Clapping me on the shoulder once more, he crooned with false sympathy, "sorry old chap, but I have to mark my territory on this one. Trust me, you're not the first to ask about her, and I doubt you'll be the last, but I'm the reason she's here. I'm the reason she's in this castle and the only one in this castle she serves is me." He insisted in an arrogant firm pleased tone.

"I envy you, brother," I muttered sulkily, my words earning another boisterous laugh from the prince beside me.

"I know Adam, trust me, if I was you, I'd envy me to." He boasted proudly.

I joined him in his laughter, but inside I wasn't feeling all that merry anymore. As I watched the girl in the servants dress once again retreat to the kitchens, I couldn't help but wonder; who is she?