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[Belle is in her room, sitting at her desk. She's surrounded by piles and piles of books but for the first time, she isn't engrossed in one. In front of her are a few sheets of paper and in her hand is a white quill. A candle is casting it's light over the paper. She's writing a letter to her father - Mulan was probably right. There was no harm in trying. She sits back and runs her fingers through her hair which is hanging loose down her back. Her blue ribbon has been discarded and is currently hanging over the back of the chair. She picks the piece of paper up and begins to read it out loud to herself.]
Dear Papa,
How are you? You'll never guess where I am, Papa. No, it's not the Beast's castle. I managed to escape from there just in time. Don't worry - he didn't hurt me. I'm safe now. To be honest, Papa, I think for a moment after you left he felt a little guilty. But maybe --
[Her voice wavers.]
Maybe.
[She sits back in the chair and takes a long, deep breath.]
Stop feeling sorry for him.
[The last couple of words are whispered. Make of this entire situation what you will.]
Dear Papa,
How are you? You'll never guess where I am, Papa. No, it's not the Beast's castle. I managed to escape from there just in time. Don't worry - he didn't hurt me. I'm safe now. To be honest, Papa, I think for a moment after you left he felt a little guilty. But maybe --
[Her voice wavers.]
Maybe.
[She sits back in the chair and takes a long, deep breath.]
Stop feeling sorry for him.
[The last couple of words are whispered. Make of this entire situation what you will.]