Agathe's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Agathe had cursed the prince years ago, and now she could not stop watching him. She had turned him into a Beast for the disgust he showed at his own door. She had cursed others before and walked away. This one she could not leave alone. She needed to know if he could truly love the girl who now lived in his castle, and if the girl could love him back. But her tower stood far from his halls, and walking there risked breaking the curse's own rules. So she chose a mirror instead. The mirror hung in her rose garden, framed in gold and worked with carved roses. It showed only her own tired face. Agathe pressed her palm to the cold glass and spoke the binding words. She named the Beast. She named his castle. She fed the spell three drops of blood and a petal from her reddest bloom. The glass darkened, then cleared. It worked. She saw a shadowed wing lit by candles. Snow lay in a courtyard beyond tall windows. The Beast paced there, huge and hunched, his horns catching the light. He held something small in one clawed hand. A candle. He set it down outside a door, careful, as if the door might wake. Then the door opened. Belle stepped out. Agathe leaned close. Belle wore a plain yellow dress. She looked at the candle on the floor, then at the Beast. She did not flinch. That surprised Agathe. Most people flinched. "You left this," Belle said. Her voice came clear through the glass. "It is dark in your room. You need it more than I do." The Beast said nothing. He looked at the floor. "You leave me books," Belle went on. "You leave me gifts and no words. I read the poems. I kept them." She paused. "But you will not let me in your west wing." Agathe held her breath. This was the thing she wanted to see. Whether he could open a door instead of shutting one. The Beast raised his head. For a moment his eyes met Belle's. Then he turned and walked into the dark of the forbidden wing. He shut the door behind him. Belle stood alone in the candlelight. She picked up the candle. She did not knock. She turned and went back to her own room. The mirror dimmed. Agathe stepped back, her heart quick. The spell held. She could watch now, safely, from her own garden. She had what she wanted. But she had seen too much. She had seen him shut a door on kindness, the same as he shut a door on her. The curse would not break on gifts alone. He had to open that wing, and he was not ready. Agathe looked at the empty glass. Watching was no longer enough. If he could not do it himself, she would have to make him.