Fic: To the Fair
Title: To The Fair
Fandom: Disney's Beauty and the Beast
Words: 2668
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Summary: AU. What if Belle gone to the fair with her father? Who would she meet?
Characters/Pairing: Belle, Maurice, OCs. Kind of Belle/OMC, but they're more just friends at this stage.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: None of it is mine, sadly.
Notes: This was written for disney_uberland's Rewrite Challenge, in which we basically had to choose a piece of the canon and then say "What if...?" I'm also using this for Prompt 87, "Write" on 100_women... It wasn't going to be this long, but it sort of got away from me, lol. I even had other ideas for it, but realised the deadline was looming and that I needed to finish it.
“Hitch up Philippe, girl, I’m off to the fair!”
Belle felt her heart swell with pride as her father rushed around, getting ready to take his invention to the fair. She took herself outside to hitch up their horse, wondering if she should make the request she had had at the back of her mind for some time.
When Maurice came out of the house and met her, she placed her hand on her arm, calming his excitement for a moment.
“Papa?”
“Yes, Belle?”
“Can I come to the fair with you?”
“Come to the fair? Well, Belle, I don’t think there’d be much there that you’d find of interest.”
“Oh, I think it’d be wonderful. It’d be full of people just as clever as you and I’d love to see all the other inventions.” She was beginning to win Maurice over. “And besides, Papa, you need someone to read that map for you.” She smiled playfully.
Maurice attempted to look displeased at his daughter’s reference to his lack of sense of direction, but failed almost immediately. He decided he wouldn’t argue anymore and nodded instead.
“All right. Go inside and pack your things. Quickly now.”
Belle didn’t waste any time. In fact, she’d packed a bag a week before, so it was just a case of running inside and fetching it. When she reappeared so quickly, Maurice shook his head.
“That’s my girl.”
A few minutes later they were all prepared and sitting atop their cart, side by side. Both were buzzing with excitement as they set off.
Belle very rarely entered the woods, but she knew her way around them well enough. Twice on their journey that afternoon, she argued with Maurice about which turn to take at a crossroads, and both occasions, she was right.
It was getting towards three o’clock in the afternoon when they arrived in the neighbouring city where the fair was to take place. Maurice decided they would drop his machine off at the fair ground and then double back to the tavern where they would be staying the next couple of nights.
An hour later, machine safely stored and Philippe fed and watered, Maurice and Belle were sitting in the tavern together. Maurice allowed himself to indulge in a tankard of ale, while Belle pulled out the book the shopkeeper had given her earlier that day. She was about to reach another of her favourite parts and wanted to get there soon. However, she looked up again when she heard her father stifling a yawn.
“Papa, you look exhausted. All those late nights working are catching up with you.”
“Oh, I’m fine, really I -” Maurice was cut off by another yawn.
“Why don’t you go up to the room and take a nap? I’ll bring some dinner up to you later.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Belle.” The concerned father cast an eye around at the burly thugs taking up most of the seats in the bar.
“I’ll be fine,” Belle promised, “go and get some rest.”
Maurice relented, but as he walked up the stairs to their room, he case more than one worried glance back at Belle. She gave him a little wave to assure him she really was still in one piece, and smiled to herself as she returned to her book.
It was only a few minutes later that she was interrupted again, this time by an unfamiliar voice.
“May I ask what book you’re reading?”
Belle looked up to find a young man around her own age leaning on the edge of her table with his chin propped up on one hand. His brown hair was just long enough to be unruly and thin-rimmed glasses sat on his nose.
“Oh, uh, nothing really.” Belle was far too used to people using that question to begin mocking her for her love of books. Keeping her finger inside to mark her place, she closed the book over so the stranger could read the cover.
“Ahh. Dreaming of your own Prince in disguise?”
Belle felt a blush creep up her cheeks, but at the same time she felt a rush of excitement. This boy read the same books as she did! She saw no reason to lie to him.
“To be honest, just having someone to talk to would be nice.”
“I know that feeling.” The boy plonked himself down in the chair Maurice had vacated. “I’m Henri, by the way.” He extended his hand.
“Belle.” She held hers out as well. She expected that like most men she met, Henri would make a show of kissing her hand and saying how “enchanté” he was to meet her. Instead, he just shook it briefly before releasing it.
“You certainly live up to your name, Belle.” Belle felt herself blush again, and shifted her gaze away from Henri and down to her book, which prompted him to continue, “Do you read a lot?”
“Oh, all the time. Everything I can lay my hands on. What about you?”
“Lots, yes. I don’t usually tell people this, but I’d like to be a writer one day.”
“Why don’t you tell people?” Belle was intrigued. “I think it’s wonderful!”
“My father is a scientist and an inventor,” Henri explained. “He wants me to take after him. He thinks writing is a waste of time. I just don’t have the mind for science like he does.”
“My father’s an inventor too. That’s why we’re here, for the fair. But everyone in our town thinks he’s crazy, and that I inherited it.” Henri looked confused by this, so Belle elaborated, “Girls aren’t supposed to read, you know. It gives us ideas.”
Henri rolled his eyes, and then placed a hand over Belle’s, which was still sitting on her book. “You’re not crazy at all, Belle. And I bet your father’s invention will wow us all tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Henri.” Belle was touched. No one had ever said something like that to her before. “It’s strange, you know. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes and I already feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
“Perhaps we were meant to meet each other here,” Henri wondered.
Belle smiled. She liked that idea. “And to think my father tried to talk me out of coming.”
“So what did your father invent?”
“Oh, it’s a wonderful machine! It chops firewood so that you don’t have to do any work.”
“Wow. I wish I’d had something like that when I was a boy.”
“What did your father bring?”
“He created a pulley system that can be installed in a house to send things between the levels. Say you wanted the chef to send some food up to your father. With my father’s invention, you wouldn’t even have to go upstairs; you’d just send it up and your father could pick it up.”
“That’s ingenious!” Belle exclaimed. “I see Papa is going to have some stiff competition.”
Belle and Henri continued talking for a while longer, until Belle realised that many of the tavern’s patrons were coming downstairs for dinner.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” she said, “without your father’s invention, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take some dinner up to my father myself.”
Henri grinned. “Will I see you at the fair tomorrow, Belle?”
“Of course. I’ll be there.”
“How about I meet you at the gates at ten o’clock?”
“Ten o’clock sounds wonderful.”
“Until tomorrow, then.”
“Until tomorrow.” Belle picked up her book from the table and headed over to the counter to order food.
Maurice noticed how happy his daughter seemed almost the second she walked into the room. As she ate, there was a dreamy look on her face and she barely seemed to be in the room at all. At first, Maurice thought that she had just really got herself lost in her book again, but it seemed to be more than that.
“So, Belle, what did you get up to while I was up here?”
‘Hmm? Oh! Well...” Belle felt herself blushing. “I met a young man named Henri. He’s here for the fair, too. He wants to be a writer. We talked for ages, Papa, it was wonderful.”
Maurice knew his daughter had very few friends in their town, and that she often struggled with feeling left out. Seeing her so happy to find a kindred spirit warmed his heart.
“Will you be seeing him at the fair?” Maurice asked, keen to hear more.
“Yes, we’ve arranged to meet tomorrow morning.”
“Well, then, you’d better get some sleep. You want to be looking your best.”
Belle smiled fondly at the way her father was fussing, but realised she was becoming quite tired. The day’s journey was finally catching up to her. She quickly changed into her nightdress and crawled under the covers. She was still smiling as she drifted off to sleep.
~*~
The following morning, Maurice had a quiet chuckle to himself as he watched Belle getting ready for the fair. Normally, his daughter would slip on the first dress she pulled out her wardrobe, pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and that would be that. This morning, she had all three dresses she had brought with her laid out on the bed, and was taking plenty of time deciding which one would be best. Upon returning from the bathroom after shaving, he found she had finally picked one out. A few minutes later, finally deeming herself ready, she span around a couple of times in front of Maurice.
“How do I look, Papa?”
“Beautiful,” Maurice replied, “as always.”
Belle smiled, and then joined her father in the doorway, linking her arm in his. “Ready?” she asked.
“As I’ll ever be. Let’s go and claim that prize.”
Fifteen minutes later, Maurice and Belle were approaching the gates to the fair ground. Maurice looked keenly around for someone who might have been Belle’s new friend. As they drew closer, Belle pointed him out to her father.
“There he is, Papa. Wearing the glasses.”
Belle quickened her pace, leaving Maurice behind for a few moments, though he soon caught up. He noted that Henri looked just as pleased to see Belle again as she did him.
“Papa, this is Henri,” Belle quickly introduced. “Henri, this is my father, Maurice.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, monsieur,” said Henri politely, holding out his hand to Maurice, who shook it immediately.
“The pleasure is mine, young man,” Maurice replied. “It’s wonderful that Belle has found a friend.”
“I’m glad to have met her, too.”
Upon hearing this, Maurice slid a glance Belle’s way. Feeling his eyes on her, Belle looked back at him, a smile going from ear to ear.
“Well, I’ll let you two wander off,” Maurice declared. “Take good care of my daughter, young man.” He clapped Henri on the shoulder.
“I will, sir,” Henri replied resolutely, but grinning.
“Papa,” Belle giggled.
“Have a good time, Belle.”
“I will, Papa.”
“And don’t forget the judging at three.”
“We won’t.”
Belle watched her father disappear amongst the crowds before turning back to Henri. He offered her his arm.
“Shall we?”
“Indeed.” Belle found herself smiling as she linked her arm in his and they walked through the gates into the fair ground. The place was crowded and Belle had never been before, but Henri knew his way around. He was clearly excited to have someone to share the fun with this time, and pulled Belle quickly from one attraction to another, keen to share the experience with her. Belle didn’t mind; this was the most fun she’d had outside of reading one of her books.
By two-thirty, they had snacked on so many varieties of food that Belle had lost count, been both impressed and repulsed by some of the creatures in the animal pavilion, and had their portraits taken (Henri paid, but insisted Belle keep the finished product). Quickly finishing off the scones they had obtained at a stall, they agreed it was time to head to the pavilion where the invention judging would be taking place at three o’clock.
Maurice caught up to them just as they entered and so they found seats together. A few minutes later, Henri’s father, Alain, appeared. Henri waved him over and he joined them. Quickly, Belle and Henri introduced their respective fathers to each other, and by then the judging was set to get underway.
Each of the inventions was demonstrated for the spectators and the judges. Maurice’s wood-chopping machine and Alain’s pulley system both received good responses from the crowd, but so did many of the other inventions. Another inventor had finetuned lenses that could be used in eyeglasses and a fourth had created a complex adding machine.
Belle found herself sitting on the edge of her seat as she waited for the judges’ decision. She looked at Henri next to her, and saw he was doing the same. Feeling her eyes on him, Henri turned to meet Belle’s gaze, and then gave her a small smile and took her hand in his.
After what seemed like an eternity, the four men who had served as judges mounted the stage. Belle took a deep breath. She felt Henri squeeze her hand and squeezed back. The judges began with the usual speeches about the high standard of entrants this year and how difficult it had been to come to a decision.
“And now, we are pleased to announce...” The judge paused for dramatic effect. “Is...” Another pause. “The wood-chopping machine!”
It took Belle a moment to realise that it was her father’s invention to which the judge was referring. Once she registered it, though, she quickly turned to his father, her face shining with excitement.
“Papa, that’s you!”
“It... it is!”
Maurice clearly was having as much trouble processing the fact as Belle. Realising the judges were waiting for him, he quickly jumped up and worked his way to out to the aisle. Once he reached the stage, the judges each shook his hand and then he was given a bag full of prize money. Maurice knew the prize was a fair sum, but the bag felt heavier than he had been expecting. The audience’s applause was thunderous; Maurice turned to them and took a quick bow before descending the stage and returning to where Belle and the others were sitting. Belle hugged him tightly, and then Henri and Alain both shook his hand.
Maurice was too excited to really respond to everyone’s congratulations coherently. Instead, he allowed Belle to slowly steer him out of the pavilion back towards the gate. Henri and Alain walked with them back to the tavern.
When they arrived back in the bar, Maurice announced that dinner for the four of them was on him. After all, he had to get rid of the prize money somewhere. They agreed that they would go back to their respective rooms to freshen up and change and meet back down at the bar in an hour.
Later, when they were tucking into their meals, and Maurice and Alain were engaged in conversation about various invention ideas they had, Henri asked Belle if she was going to be in town much longer.
Belle shook her head. “I’m afraid we’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Then we must keep in touch. Who knows, maybe I’ll have a novel published. I’d want you to be the first to read it.”
“Oh, definitely,” Belle agreed. “I’d love to have someone to write to.”
“I have a notebook in my room. When we’re done, come and knock on my door so we can swap addresses.”
“All right.”
Not too much else was said over dinner, but Belle’s heart swelled as she finished her food. Asking her father if she could come to the fair had turned out to be the best choice she could have possibly made. She had a feeling that after this, it was going to be a long time before she felt lonely again.
Fandom: Disney's Beauty and the Beast
Words: 2668
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Summary: AU. What if Belle gone to the fair with her father? Who would she meet?
Characters/Pairing: Belle, Maurice, OCs. Kind of Belle/OMC, but they're more just friends at this stage.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: None of it is mine, sadly.
Notes: This was written for disney_uberland's Rewrite Challenge, in which we basically had to choose a piece of the canon and then say "What if...?" I'm also using this for Prompt 87, "Write" on 100_women... It wasn't going to be this long, but it sort of got away from me, lol. I even had other ideas for it, but realised the deadline was looming and that I needed to finish it.
“Hitch up Philippe, girl, I’m off to the fair!”
Belle felt her heart swell with pride as her father rushed around, getting ready to take his invention to the fair. She took herself outside to hitch up their horse, wondering if she should make the request she had had at the back of her mind for some time.
When Maurice came out of the house and met her, she placed her hand on her arm, calming his excitement for a moment.
“Papa?”
“Yes, Belle?”
“Can I come to the fair with you?”
“Come to the fair? Well, Belle, I don’t think there’d be much there that you’d find of interest.”
“Oh, I think it’d be wonderful. It’d be full of people just as clever as you and I’d love to see all the other inventions.” She was beginning to win Maurice over. “And besides, Papa, you need someone to read that map for you.” She smiled playfully.
Maurice attempted to look displeased at his daughter’s reference to his lack of sense of direction, but failed almost immediately. He decided he wouldn’t argue anymore and nodded instead.
“All right. Go inside and pack your things. Quickly now.”
Belle didn’t waste any time. In fact, she’d packed a bag a week before, so it was just a case of running inside and fetching it. When she reappeared so quickly, Maurice shook his head.
“That’s my girl.”
A few minutes later they were all prepared and sitting atop their cart, side by side. Both were buzzing with excitement as they set off.
Belle very rarely entered the woods, but she knew her way around them well enough. Twice on their journey that afternoon, she argued with Maurice about which turn to take at a crossroads, and both occasions, she was right.
It was getting towards three o’clock in the afternoon when they arrived in the neighbouring city where the fair was to take place. Maurice decided they would drop his machine off at the fair ground and then double back to the tavern where they would be staying the next couple of nights.
An hour later, machine safely stored and Philippe fed and watered, Maurice and Belle were sitting in the tavern together. Maurice allowed himself to indulge in a tankard of ale, while Belle pulled out the book the shopkeeper had given her earlier that day. She was about to reach another of her favourite parts and wanted to get there soon. However, she looked up again when she heard her father stifling a yawn.
“Papa, you look exhausted. All those late nights working are catching up with you.”
“Oh, I’m fine, really I -” Maurice was cut off by another yawn.
“Why don’t you go up to the room and take a nap? I’ll bring some dinner up to you later.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Belle.” The concerned father cast an eye around at the burly thugs taking up most of the seats in the bar.
“I’ll be fine,” Belle promised, “go and get some rest.”
Maurice relented, but as he walked up the stairs to their room, he case more than one worried glance back at Belle. She gave him a little wave to assure him she really was still in one piece, and smiled to herself as she returned to her book.
It was only a few minutes later that she was interrupted again, this time by an unfamiliar voice.
“May I ask what book you’re reading?”
Belle looked up to find a young man around her own age leaning on the edge of her table with his chin propped up on one hand. His brown hair was just long enough to be unruly and thin-rimmed glasses sat on his nose.
“Oh, uh, nothing really.” Belle was far too used to people using that question to begin mocking her for her love of books. Keeping her finger inside to mark her place, she closed the book over so the stranger could read the cover.
“Ahh. Dreaming of your own Prince in disguise?”
Belle felt a blush creep up her cheeks, but at the same time she felt a rush of excitement. This boy read the same books as she did! She saw no reason to lie to him.
“To be honest, just having someone to talk to would be nice.”
“I know that feeling.” The boy plonked himself down in the chair Maurice had vacated. “I’m Henri, by the way.” He extended his hand.
“Belle.” She held hers out as well. She expected that like most men she met, Henri would make a show of kissing her hand and saying how “enchanté” he was to meet her. Instead, he just shook it briefly before releasing it.
“You certainly live up to your name, Belle.” Belle felt herself blush again, and shifted her gaze away from Henri and down to her book, which prompted him to continue, “Do you read a lot?”
“Oh, all the time. Everything I can lay my hands on. What about you?”
“Lots, yes. I don’t usually tell people this, but I’d like to be a writer one day.”
“Why don’t you tell people?” Belle was intrigued. “I think it’s wonderful!”
“My father is a scientist and an inventor,” Henri explained. “He wants me to take after him. He thinks writing is a waste of time. I just don’t have the mind for science like he does.”
“My father’s an inventor too. That’s why we’re here, for the fair. But everyone in our town thinks he’s crazy, and that I inherited it.” Henri looked confused by this, so Belle elaborated, “Girls aren’t supposed to read, you know. It gives us ideas.”
Henri rolled his eyes, and then placed a hand over Belle’s, which was still sitting on her book. “You’re not crazy at all, Belle. And I bet your father’s invention will wow us all tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Henri.” Belle was touched. No one had ever said something like that to her before. “It’s strange, you know. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes and I already feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
“Perhaps we were meant to meet each other here,” Henri wondered.
Belle smiled. She liked that idea. “And to think my father tried to talk me out of coming.”
“So what did your father invent?”
“Oh, it’s a wonderful machine! It chops firewood so that you don’t have to do any work.”
“Wow. I wish I’d had something like that when I was a boy.”
“What did your father bring?”
“He created a pulley system that can be installed in a house to send things between the levels. Say you wanted the chef to send some food up to your father. With my father’s invention, you wouldn’t even have to go upstairs; you’d just send it up and your father could pick it up.”
“That’s ingenious!” Belle exclaimed. “I see Papa is going to have some stiff competition.”
Belle and Henri continued talking for a while longer, until Belle realised that many of the tavern’s patrons were coming downstairs for dinner.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” she said, “without your father’s invention, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take some dinner up to my father myself.”
Henri grinned. “Will I see you at the fair tomorrow, Belle?”
“Of course. I’ll be there.”
“How about I meet you at the gates at ten o’clock?”
“Ten o’clock sounds wonderful.”
“Until tomorrow, then.”
“Until tomorrow.” Belle picked up her book from the table and headed over to the counter to order food.
Maurice noticed how happy his daughter seemed almost the second she walked into the room. As she ate, there was a dreamy look on her face and she barely seemed to be in the room at all. At first, Maurice thought that she had just really got herself lost in her book again, but it seemed to be more than that.
“So, Belle, what did you get up to while I was up here?”
‘Hmm? Oh! Well...” Belle felt herself blushing. “I met a young man named Henri. He’s here for the fair, too. He wants to be a writer. We talked for ages, Papa, it was wonderful.”
Maurice knew his daughter had very few friends in their town, and that she often struggled with feeling left out. Seeing her so happy to find a kindred spirit warmed his heart.
“Will you be seeing him at the fair?” Maurice asked, keen to hear more.
“Yes, we’ve arranged to meet tomorrow morning.”
“Well, then, you’d better get some sleep. You want to be looking your best.”
Belle smiled fondly at the way her father was fussing, but realised she was becoming quite tired. The day’s journey was finally catching up to her. She quickly changed into her nightdress and crawled under the covers. She was still smiling as she drifted off to sleep.
~*~
The following morning, Maurice had a quiet chuckle to himself as he watched Belle getting ready for the fair. Normally, his daughter would slip on the first dress she pulled out her wardrobe, pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and that would be that. This morning, she had all three dresses she had brought with her laid out on the bed, and was taking plenty of time deciding which one would be best. Upon returning from the bathroom after shaving, he found she had finally picked one out. A few minutes later, finally deeming herself ready, she span around a couple of times in front of Maurice.
“How do I look, Papa?”
“Beautiful,” Maurice replied, “as always.”
Belle smiled, and then joined her father in the doorway, linking her arm in his. “Ready?” she asked.
“As I’ll ever be. Let’s go and claim that prize.”
Fifteen minutes later, Maurice and Belle were approaching the gates to the fair ground. Maurice looked keenly around for someone who might have been Belle’s new friend. As they drew closer, Belle pointed him out to her father.
“There he is, Papa. Wearing the glasses.”
Belle quickened her pace, leaving Maurice behind for a few moments, though he soon caught up. He noted that Henri looked just as pleased to see Belle again as she did him.
“Papa, this is Henri,” Belle quickly introduced. “Henri, this is my father, Maurice.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, monsieur,” said Henri politely, holding out his hand to Maurice, who shook it immediately.
“The pleasure is mine, young man,” Maurice replied. “It’s wonderful that Belle has found a friend.”
“I’m glad to have met her, too.”
Upon hearing this, Maurice slid a glance Belle’s way. Feeling his eyes on her, Belle looked back at him, a smile going from ear to ear.
“Well, I’ll let you two wander off,” Maurice declared. “Take good care of my daughter, young man.” He clapped Henri on the shoulder.
“I will, sir,” Henri replied resolutely, but grinning.
“Papa,” Belle giggled.
“Have a good time, Belle.”
“I will, Papa.”
“And don’t forget the judging at three.”
“We won’t.”
Belle watched her father disappear amongst the crowds before turning back to Henri. He offered her his arm.
“Shall we?”
“Indeed.” Belle found herself smiling as she linked her arm in his and they walked through the gates into the fair ground. The place was crowded and Belle had never been before, but Henri knew his way around. He was clearly excited to have someone to share the fun with this time, and pulled Belle quickly from one attraction to another, keen to share the experience with her. Belle didn’t mind; this was the most fun she’d had outside of reading one of her books.
By two-thirty, they had snacked on so many varieties of food that Belle had lost count, been both impressed and repulsed by some of the creatures in the animal pavilion, and had their portraits taken (Henri paid, but insisted Belle keep the finished product). Quickly finishing off the scones they had obtained at a stall, they agreed it was time to head to the pavilion where the invention judging would be taking place at three o’clock.
Maurice caught up to them just as they entered and so they found seats together. A few minutes later, Henri’s father, Alain, appeared. Henri waved him over and he joined them. Quickly, Belle and Henri introduced their respective fathers to each other, and by then the judging was set to get underway.
Each of the inventions was demonstrated for the spectators and the judges. Maurice’s wood-chopping machine and Alain’s pulley system both received good responses from the crowd, but so did many of the other inventions. Another inventor had finetuned lenses that could be used in eyeglasses and a fourth had created a complex adding machine.
Belle found herself sitting on the edge of her seat as she waited for the judges’ decision. She looked at Henri next to her, and saw he was doing the same. Feeling her eyes on him, Henri turned to meet Belle’s gaze, and then gave her a small smile and took her hand in his.
After what seemed like an eternity, the four men who had served as judges mounted the stage. Belle took a deep breath. She felt Henri squeeze her hand and squeezed back. The judges began with the usual speeches about the high standard of entrants this year and how difficult it had been to come to a decision.
“And now, we are pleased to announce...” The judge paused for dramatic effect. “Is...” Another pause. “The wood-chopping machine!”
It took Belle a moment to realise that it was her father’s invention to which the judge was referring. Once she registered it, though, she quickly turned to his father, her face shining with excitement.
“Papa, that’s you!”
“It... it is!”
Maurice clearly was having as much trouble processing the fact as Belle. Realising the judges were waiting for him, he quickly jumped up and worked his way to out to the aisle. Once he reached the stage, the judges each shook his hand and then he was given a bag full of prize money. Maurice knew the prize was a fair sum, but the bag felt heavier than he had been expecting. The audience’s applause was thunderous; Maurice turned to them and took a quick bow before descending the stage and returning to where Belle and the others were sitting. Belle hugged him tightly, and then Henri and Alain both shook his hand.
Maurice was too excited to really respond to everyone’s congratulations coherently. Instead, he allowed Belle to slowly steer him out of the pavilion back towards the gate. Henri and Alain walked with them back to the tavern.
When they arrived back in the bar, Maurice announced that dinner for the four of them was on him. After all, he had to get rid of the prize money somewhere. They agreed that they would go back to their respective rooms to freshen up and change and meet back down at the bar in an hour.
Later, when they were tucking into their meals, and Maurice and Alain were engaged in conversation about various invention ideas they had, Henri asked Belle if she was going to be in town much longer.
Belle shook her head. “I’m afraid we’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Then we must keep in touch. Who knows, maybe I’ll have a novel published. I’d want you to be the first to read it.”
“Oh, definitely,” Belle agreed. “I’d love to have someone to write to.”
“I have a notebook in my room. When we’re done, come and knock on my door so we can swap addresses.”
“All right.”
Not too much else was said over dinner, but Belle’s heart swelled as she finished her food. Asking her father if she could come to the fair had turned out to be the best choice she could have possibly made. She had a feeling that after this, it was going to be a long time before she felt lonely again.