A/N: Hi, everyone! Thank you for all the love you've all shown this story. It's really an encouragement to me. I'm starting my second year of college on Tuesday so updates might be a bit random. But I will definitely be working on my chapters in the future. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

Bea: Age 3

Copious celebrations and royalty went along like peanut butter and jelly, and the higher your royal rank the more parties you were obligated to attend.

Being the king of an entire country then meant a lot of parties. And Adam hated it.

In his younger days (pre-Beast), he was a notorious celebration-goer. The majority of his week was spent attending extravagant celebration after extravagant celebration. Yes, his days were never lacking in eating, drinking, or being merry.

But despite his life of entertainment, he was never truly happy. He was spoiled, selfish, and most definitely unkind. However, the more time he spent drowning himself in the dancing and celebration, the less time he had to dwell upon how miserable he really felt inside.

But that was before her, before Belle, before true love.

Nowadays, he disliked all the pomp and splendor. But, out of courtesy, he would accept every invitation with a polite smile. He even attempted to make decent conversation with those in attendance. But he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he and his family could return home and finally relax.

At the moment, however, Adam was doing anything but relaxing. It was Chad Charming's seventh birthday, and Cinderella had, of course, invited king and queen to her humble castle.

Belle, unfortunately, had made a previous diplomatic engagement with Queen Elsa and had already booked a flight to Arendelle.

Adam's hands twitched, subconsciously reaching for his wife's dainty hand, but only finding empty air. He let out an automatic sigh that he hoped Prince Ferdinand, Princess Snow White's husband, didn't detect. He nodded convincingly at Ferdinand's riveting speech about the new additions to his palace, but his eyes wandering to his children.

Ben and a few of his friends were climbing one of the giant oak trees gracing the yard, each attempting to reach the highest limb. He could spot Bea huffing at the base of the tree, probably grumbling that she couldn't reach the branches that towered above her head.

Adam turned away for the briefest second, and when he turned his head back, Bea was now seated on one of the hanging branches, probably lifted up by one of the other children. Adam had the faintest sensation that he should probably tell her to get down from there lest something bad happen, but, before he could even open his mouth, Bea had tumbled to the ground from her perch with an undignified thump.

At first all was silent, and the world seemed to move in slow motion until the pause was broken by a distressed shriek.

This is bad. This is very, very bad. She's only three years old, and she's crying, and Belle's in another kingdom right now.

Giant tears flowed down the princess's ruddy cheeks, and she lay sprawled on the ground, probably with something broken or fractured judging from the size of that fall.

Whatever Ferdinand had to say could wait because—

Because that's his

Daughter

King Adam sprinted towards her, tripping over his surly legs and pressed royal blue suit.

And there was so much blood. It was all over the place.

He crashed to the ground, arms wrapped around the trembling little girl, minding the arm that was dangling loosely by her side.

"Daddy," she sniveled, burying her face into his suit coat, "Daddy, it hurts."

He was sure he was going to have to get his suit dry cleaned because tear stains and blood do not come off with tap water, and he was positive that the other royals are probably horrified to see their king splayed on the ground. But for one second, he could put that all aside because—

"Daddy's here, baby," he cooed to her, holding her gently to his chest. "Daddy's always going to be right here."

Somebody had the good sense to call an ambulance, and, when they arrived, Aurora promised to watch over Ben. Adam muttered his thanks and jumped into the ambulance where his daughter was strapped to a gurney, and the paramedics were administering some sort of medication.

All Adam could do was hold Bea's tiny, frail hand and watch her cry in agony at the pain. He attempted to murmur soothing words to her, but he felt so helpless.

When they arrived at the hospital, they took his baby away, screaming for her daddy to come save her, but he couldn't.

His majesty had to wait in the waiting room.

Adam stayed in that cursed waiting room for all of five minutes before the anxiety became too much, and he rushed outside to get air.

He sat on the edge of one of the planters lining the parking lot, head bowed and hands clasped together. He had just called Belle to let her know what in the world was going on, and she promised to get on the first flight over from Arendelle. He also texted Aurora to let her know it would probably be a while before they were out of the emergency room.

So King Adam was left alone with himself, and that was a terrifying place for him to be.

.

.

.

First came the guilt.

Seeing Bea hurt had awakened a feeling inside of him that he had never felt towards her before, something akin to fatherly protectiveness. It was a sense that he would do anything to make sure she was safe.

It pained him now to think how awful he had been to Beatrice in the past.

She never deserved his apathy. She had done nothing wrong. In reality, it was all his fault.

He was the one who withheld his full love from her, because he was selfish. He had become what he vowed never to become again.

He had become the beast.

.

.

.

Then came the acceptance.

Despite everything, despite his reservations, Beatrice was good. If he really admitted it to himself, he realized that she brought so much joy into his and Belle's and Ben's lives. And he had never even given her the time of day; he had never even given her a chance.

Although she didn't share his blood or his features, Beatrice did love chocolate cake like him. And she loved reading stories like Belle. She had a stubbornness from both sides of the family, just like her big brother.

She's ours, Adam thought with a chuckle. She's mine.

.

.

.

The doctor called him in a couple hours later with a dry-eyed Beatrice who bravely brandished her cast for her father like a prize won from a hard-fought battle.

"Look, Daddy! Blue and yellow like you and Mommy!"

And he laughed, a deep, hearty laugh, because—

"That's my girl," Adam beamed, proudly. "That's my brave girl."

.

.

.

Once Belle's flight landed, she was directly en route to the hospital.

A nurse ushered her into her daughter's room, and she took in a surprised breath at the spectacle before her.

Her beast of a husband and her daughter are squished snuggly onto a hospital bed together. Bea was fast asleep, content to be curled up in her father's arms, and Adam was softly stroking his daughter's dark curls with a tenderness uncharacteristic of his large form.

He put a finger to his lips in a hushed symbol and returned to his ministrations.

"Her daddy's got her," he murmured, gazing adoringly at her slumbering form.

He didn't leave her side all night.