Hello and thanks for reading! Today is the 21st of July 2014 and it is 7 years since I finished this story. Last month it got 391 views. I would have been happy with that when I was still writing it, so it's absolutely amazing for it to be read by so many people so long after it was finished. Thank you all so much!

PS: If anyone feels like dropping me a review or a PM, I would really like to know how people are finding this story these days. Is it linked somewhere, or are you just finding it through the main forum page and some kind of sorting shenanigans? Or people's favourite lists? Enquiring minds (well, one enquiring mind) want to know!

Barely an hour after the girl had arrived, Cogsworth called an emergency meeting. Cogsworth liked calling emergency meetings. Cogsworth also liked calling weekly meetings, kitchen staff meetings, spontaneous meetings – in fact, any kind of meeting at all. He liked the way he could stand up and everyone would turn and look at him attentively. For a couple of seconds, at least, they appeared to be taking in everything he said, and that cheered him up. It never lasted, of course. In the old days, Lumière had become so efficient that he and Babette could regularly have staked out a good hiding place and be rounding second base before Cogsworth had finished clearing his throat. But, even if only for fleeting moments, Cogsworth felt as though there was some kind of order to proceedings and he liked it. This was the eighth meeting of the week, and there was now the added thrill of having a real emergency to discuss.

"Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "As I'm certain you are all aware, recent developments have given us a renewed prospect of the imminent improvement of our current situation." He paused, waiting for the assembled staff to cheer enthusiastically. They looked at one another and blinked, bemused.

Lumière took a break from what he was doing, which was whispering something to Babette that was not fit for young ears, and translated for the benefit of his colleagues. "There's a girl in the castle!"

This prompted the expected cheering. Cogsworth waited for it to die down.

"Yes, yes, all well and good," he continued. "But unless we exercise extreme caution, we could have a grave problem on our hands. It is absolutely imperative that I introduce new measures to be followed by all staff. From now on, there is to be no mention of spells, curses or enchantresses under any circumstances, is that understood?"

The enchanted objects shuffled and looked as confused as it is possible to when your body hasn't been designed to support a face.

"Pourquoi?" called Babette, after a moment.

"Well," replied Cogsworth, flustered. "Because… because it is vital that the girl has not so much as a whisper of an idea about all this."

"Why not?" That was Chip. After all, Belle seemed nice enough, but… well, the Master had always been scary, but ever since that spell – he didn't think anyone could be as brave as all that. And the Master needed someone to be his special friend if Chip was ever going to get to be a boy again.

The cry was taken up. "Yeah, why not?"

"The enchantress didn't say anything about it having to be a secret, did she?"

"I don't know, I was minding my own business down in the kitchen! Next thing I know, bang, I'm a spoon!"

Mrs Potts volunteered her help. "Now, now, everyone. We mustn't get too excited. Don't forget, this spell was supposed to teach the Master about looking beyond appearances. Now, supposing we tell this young lady everything. We tell her that the Master is really a prince –"

"And a handsome one, if memory serves," Cogsworth interjected.

"Precisely. We tell her that all she has to do is fall in love with him and the curse will be broken. He'll be human again." She paused, looking around. Her colleagues appeared thoughtful. She continued. "Now, I'm not accusing the girl of being mercenary, though we can all see easily enough that when you've riches such as the Master has, it doesn't take much more than knowing that love will make him beautiful to make him an appealing prospect. Even supposing she's the lovely girl she seems to be – and look at what she did for her father – it won't take her long to realise that she can save him from total despair. She'll pity him so much that saying those three words might seem like the only thing she can do."

"But isn't that what we want, Mama?" asked Chip. "I thought Belle could save us."

"Ce n'est pas l'amour," Lumière observed, extinguishing a flame and letting his arm sidle around Babette's 'waist'.

Mrs Potts shook her head. "Lumière's right. It's not love. Not really. You can love out of greed or you can love out of pity, but somehow I don't think either will save us."

Babette dodged teasingly out of Lumière's range. "But if the enchantress said nothing, how can we be sure?"

Cogsworth decided it was high time he regained the limelight. "It's not a risk we can afford to take," he said. "And I will therefore be issuing sanctions to anyone caught mentioning the curse during the girl's stay in the castle. Is that clear?"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the kitchen. A moment later, there was a general surge of movement towards the door. The meeting was over.

In the corridor outside, Belle drew back from the door as an assortment of unusual-sounding footsteps approached it from the other side. Instinctively, she turned and hurried back down the passage, taking refuge in the doorway by which she had entered. She waited there until the majority of the objects had walked past.

Walking objects. How on earth had she got used to the idea so quickly? There couldn't be many situations where watching a dish and a spoon literally run away together was actually one of the less surreal things one had recently been presented with. But there it was.

She hesitated, then pushed the door open again and stepped into the now-deserted corridor, continuing along it to the kitchen door, which she opened.

There were three – should she call them people? She thought about what she had just heard. Yes, for the moment, people seemed to fit. There were three of them left in the room.

"Splendid to see you out and about mademoiselle!" called the clock, cheerfully. She smiled, distractedly, and only just remembered her original purpose in coming down to the kitchen in time.

She decided during dinner that her best course of action would be to remain silent – for now, at any rate. She had no idea what she had overheard, and until she had had time to think it over, she didn't think it wise to give anything away.

She didn't regret having listened at the door. True, it was rude – and it certainly held true to the old adage that those who listen at doorways seldom hear any good of themselves – but on the other hand, she was hardly here of her own free will. She was the prisoner of a monster in a castle and surrounded by talking objects. If that didn't give her license to listen at walls – well, she thought, stubbornly, she didn't care.

She tried to piece together what she had heard. The one they called the Master – she had already surmised that that must be that Beast of a creature who had imprisoned her father. He was, as, if she were to believe was she had heard, the object-people were, cursed.

Did she believe in curses? She'd always loved the idea of magic, certainly, but…

On the other hand, did she believe in talking candlesticks? Not really. But nonetheless, there was one in front of her who was serving her a three-course meal, which made things a little more complicated.

And this 'Master', this fearsome creature who ruled here – what was she to make of him?

It is vital that the girl has not so much of a whisper of an idea about all this.

All she has to do is fall in love with him and the curse will be broken.

They couldn't mean her, surely? As though it wasn't enough that she had lost everything she had ever hold dear to her, now this?

The Master's not so bad once you get to know him.

She had reacted badly enough to that.

I don't want to get to know him! I don't want anything to do with him!

And with good reason. He was a monster. She genuinely believed that.

And yet…

What did he want with her anyway? Well, she knew that – didn't she? It had been one thing to overhear, another to grasp the sense of what she had learned.

He didn't mean to kill her. Not as far as she could make out. What would be the point of exchanging Papa for her, of giving her her own room, of offering her the help of his servants, if he meant only to kill her.

Horrible images flashed into her mind, things she'd read in books or tall stories she'd overheard in the marketplace. She pushed them aside. She could become stricken with terror that way, and then what would she be able to do?

She decided to test the waters a little.

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly go to bed now," she gushed. "It's my first time in an enchanted castle, and…"

The expression on the clock's face told her all she needed to know.

The corridor at the top of the West Staircase was in direct contrast to the splendour and beauty of the halls below her. Everything looked as though it had been found on the scene of a particularly violent burglary, moved to a castle and then deserted for several years. She caught sight of her reflection in a broken mirror. She looked pale and scared. Not as defiant as she was aiming for, then. She took a deep breath, coughing dust.

She felt slightly guilty about having given her guides the slip. Their legs – if a candlestick could be said to have legs – were, after all, a bit on the short side. But on the other hand, she felt rebellious. Whatever the reason, the residents of this castle were hiding secrets from her, and she intended to discover as many of them as she could. She felt she had little to lose at this point. Overly dramatic, perhaps, but she felt she deserved it.

It took her a moment to build up the courage, but she managed to open the door. The room she discovered beyond it was worse even than the corridor. She recoiled for a moment, horrified.

She'd always wondered what it would feel like to be totally enchanted by something. The rose had her from the moment she cast eyes on it.