[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
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You're writing your father? I'm sure he will be happy to hear from you.
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I hope he receives it.
[She pauses for a moment and clears her throat.]
So -- how are things with Kuzco?
[This is asked very casually.]
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It's... fine. Why do you ask?
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I saw what happened the other day, you know.
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