Frances looked around frantically for any source of light but there was none. From the amount of air that circulated in the room, he could tell the area was wider than it seemed.

He patted his pants pockets.

Melinda had given him her phone right after Bree had hung up on her. He wasn't quite sure how the device worked yet but he was certain there were icons to help one find whatever they were looking for. He unlocked the phone and scrolled through it then found a tiny icon of a flashlight.

He tapped on the icon and soft white light washed the room. In front of him stood a wrecked candelabra so large that it would've flattened a car roof. Frances was thankful he hadn't walked forward otherwise he would've found himself on the other end of one of the sticky points where a candle should have been.

He moved the flashlight to look at the ground. Cracks formed around the candelabra and spread out to every part of the floor like spider webs. The floor which had probably been ornate brickwork was now a bed of deadly debris. One misstep would cause an injury of a lifetime.

Frances moved the torch upward and around. He realized he was inside a throne room - an incredibly massive one. Rows of sturdy pillars the size of miniature mountains held up the ceiling on opposite sides where dark hallways stretched behind them. There was a dais at the far end of the room but Frances couldn't make out what was there because his flashlight wasn't that bright. He pointed to the other end of the room where the large hall curved into two paths on either sides with one in the middle that led into another dark opening.

The room smelled like the inside of old shoes. Water trickled from somewhere but Frances couldn't find it.

"Mother?" He called again. There was no response. He was certain he'd heard his grandmother's voice but now he wasn't so sure. What would Belle be doing in a place like this?

He took calculated steps away from the candelabra. It leaned all the way to the left where the crack was widest and Frances hoped it remained that way. The last thing he wanted was getting buried underground in an ancient throne room. As he walked, he would cautiously raise the phone to look around the pillars. The throne room was old but it definitely was majestic. Frances wondered what it had looked like during its time. It seemed like a hall of kings.

Cobwebs lined the pillars all the way up into the ceiling. Each pillar was the color of dust or maybe a century worth of dust prevented him from seeing what they really looked like. Frances tried to count how many pillars were in the room. He stopped at twenty eight because the vast space seemed to go on forever. Even his breathing echoed across the room.

Something about these mountain sized pillars unnerved Frances. It was like something dangerous was hiding behind each one and whenever he passed, they would peek at him and hide again, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He focused on finding an exit. Even a room this big had to have one.

He wondered why Anita had brought him here and where Melinda had gone after they were separated. He wondered about Bree and could feel his heart breaking all over again. She wasn't dead. She had to be alive. She was the bravest person he'd ever met but he knew her confidence could be powerless against Anita.

Anita had centuries of magic flowing through her veins. He tried to calculate just how old she was. She could be hundreds of years old at most. He could remember Belle telling him so many stories about his king Adam's family line and how they ruled for such a long time that it was almost impossible for the king's son to take his father's place on the throne. Because of this, most of the Princes would go off and marry into other kingdoms.

He recalled the story of his great great grandfather - King Jacques, who had ruled for ninety two years. It was a mystery to Frances how he lived that long but it was so according to Belle. King Jacques had an offspring who had married a princess from another kingdom but never became king because in that land, women took the throne. And so, his son was brought to rule his grandfather's kingdom, Villeneuve when Jacques passed. Frances guessed that not so many princes were lucky enough to take the throne of Villeneuve as their predecessors were especially stubborn when it came to dying.

There were no records of any king dying of a disease or in a war. The only time he'd ever heard of such was from Anita herself. A King of Villeneuve had been murdered through poisoning by a witch who happened to have possessed Anita's father. A thousand thoughts floated around in Frances's head. He was trying to connect the dots and figure out which king it might be and why Anita was the way she was. But the more he thought about it, the more confused he got.

He kept walking and finally made it to the point where the paths divided east and west. He began to ponder which way to go. The hallway was the same on both sides; long, frustrating and utterly plain save for huge pillars. Frances deducted that the pillars supported the entire palace like giant hands holding up a large bomb. If anything were to happen to the pillars, the entire palace would come down like they were made of sand. He shuddered and stared at the gigantic pillars. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to think of them as giant hands before one would come alive and pluck him off the ground. Anything was possible.

He stood there for a while contemplating on which way to go when a faint echo caught his attention. He tried to steady his breathing and listen for the sound but whatever the person was saying died out before it reached him. It made him wonder just how big the castle was.

The echo came again but it reverberated all around him making it hard to detect where it had come from. The air was utterly cold now and Frances had to button his jacket to keep warm. He suddenly froze.

The wind! Of course. He had to follow the wind. He walked a little into the East wing and stopped. There was nothing except lukewarm air and dusty pillars. He went back in the opposite direction, heading west. He had only taken a few steps before he felt the cold wind whipping all around him.

This has to lead to the exit. He thought

At this point, Frances began to run. He had to find both Bree and Melinda first. At least get them home where they would be safe. Anita was his problem and he had to make things right. He had to fix everything and find his family.

He looked back for a brief moment. The distance he had come was so long it felt like he had magically jumped the way he used to when he was Beasley. He thought about the voice in the room. The voice of Belle. What if she had really been in there? What if he was abandoning his grandmother?

He turned and continued running. Soon, he came out into an open courtyard the size of a football stadium.

"Wow!" Frances gaped at the view with his mouth hanging open.

The courtyard was the most magnificent one he'd ever been in. There were statues the size of buildings circling the courtyard.  Each one was dressed in full armor wielding bronze swords that could slice a helicopter in half. Despite how old everything was, the statues seemed polished save for a few spider webs around the helmet. A large cylindrical pole ran along the length of the roof above each statue and connected into the palace. Frances could hear the sound of running water.

He looked at the rest of the statues. The pole was positioned in such a way that openings jutted out like shower heads right above the statue. Frances guessed this system was created to wash the statues clean every time. Now he understood why they looked so clean.

In the middle of the courtyard was a large platform where a broken statue stood. This one looked older than the rest and more prominent. Even half broken, Frances could see the perfect outline of the statue's feet and shin. Behind it was what Frances guessed was a robe but since the statue was broken, it looked strange.

Frances registered his environment within a second. But the XXL statues and overwhelming courtyard wasn't what bothered him. It was the weather. The sky was a mix of foamy white and baby blue. Snow rained down like confetti but the courtyard was empty. The snowfall seemed to avoid the entire palace.

Frances walked into the courtyard. At the very end was a large metal gate that was so rusty, Frances wondered how the barrier still stood. He was sure of one thing - this palace was surely powerful. There were two watchtowers just outside the gate but one of them was leaning sideways like the broken candelabra. Frances was afraid the watchtower would tip a little further and crash into the palace walls.

The place must've been huge once but now most of it was falling apart like wet tissue.
Frances finally escaped the compound and came out into a landscape he had never seen before. The strange thing was, it resembled Villeneuve.

Frances walked over to the watchtower where a horse was tied to the base of a ladder that was already coming apart. He didn't stop to wonder or ask where the horse had come from. He just mounted and rode away from the disturbing palace that looked like his hometown. The frosty weather covered the road in thick white fog making it hard to navigate but Frances managed.

He passed the village which was as old as the palace itself. Some houses had burned up completely, some were in ruins, some still stood straight and eerily quiet. The village looked exactly like his own, only older and deserted. He rode the horse like he knew his path and surprisingly, he did. Soon, he found himself in a familiar forest. It was the same one he used to explore as a youngster.

As he neared the village, he felt a massive wave of panic wash over him. The first house he saw belonged to a hunter who lived only a mile away from the rest of the village. The house looked fine but it was dark. As Frances rode on, he discovered that the village was quiet. Nothing was broken or burnt or in ruins but the silence was deafening. Usually during weathers like these, fires would burn from every corner and in every window to give warmth but there was not a single speck of flame in sight.

Frances neared the castle - his home. It looked exactly the same as it had ten years ago. He was thankful there weren't any cobwebs. He got off his horse, led it into the stables then ran into the castle.

As soon as he entered the throne room, he met Anita who was standing a few kilometers away from the door. She suddenly began to applaud slowly.

"Honestly," she scoffed. "You took longer than i expected. So, what do you think?"

Frances arched his brow, trying to steady his breathing. "what do i think of what? What are you playing at?"

Anita tilted slightly to look behind him as if expecting someone else to walk in then straightened up again.

"You remember my father, don't you? King Joseph?" She said ignoring him and gestured toward the throne.

It seemed like someone turned the lights on because Frances could suddenly see the room clearly. On his grandfather's throne sat King Joseph, bulky and proud. He still had on his green robes and gold crown and scepter, like the night of Frances's birthday. He had one leg flung over the throne's armrest and his other arm leisurely plucked fruit off a tray that was placed on the throne next to him. It was Queen Belle's.

The ballroom hadn't changed at all but there were no decorations. Frances moved his gaze to the stairway where Melinda sat at the bottom of the steps cuddling Bree. Her eyes were red and puffy indicating that she had been crying. Bree was still as white as paper but her chest heaved in and out slowly which meant she was still alive. He silently breathed in relief.

"The young fool who refused to unite both kingdoms has shown his face at last." King Joseph said rolling an apple in between his fingers. His voice still sounded rough and intimidating but strewn with age. Although he did not look any older than he had been before. He lazily stood up from the throne and stepped off the dais. Frances could see his face clearly now. His eyes sunk all the way into his face making him look like a ghostly skeleton. His green robes looked like they had been soaked in bleach but his golden crown still gleamed as bright as ever.

"Joseph!" Frances said quietly.

"Yes, you remember my name. You've grown young prince." Joseph said assessing Frances. The prince wasn't sure if he was about to be eaten by Anita's intimidating father or congratulated for growing.

"Daddy!" Anita warned calmly.

King Joseph snapped out of his thoughts, his face creasing with anger. "Of course. Time for you all to pay."

"Where's my mother? What have you done with my family?" Frances yelled balling his fists.

King Joseph tsked sadly. "No need to get loud about it."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Anita winced. She walked two steps further like an infuriated lecturer explaining things to a dumb student over and over.

"How do i put this bluntly?" She asked herself then looked up at Frances. "Your family - has to pay - for ruining - my life!"

Frances looked at Bree. She looked as though she had suddenly become cataleptic. Melinda still held her close whilst watching Anita and Joseph intently. The air was unbelievably cold much like Anita's green eyes. Frances wanted to take off his jacket and hand it over to Melinda. The woman looked like her teeth would fall off any second from the way they chattered loudly.

"Haven't you done enough?" Frances asked. His gaze fell on Joseph's belt where a sword was perfectly strapped and hidden by his enormous robe. He suddenly felt useless against the pair. Anita could summon smoke-like serpents and her father had a mean sword that could chop him into party favors while all he had was a smartphone with a picture of Snoopy on the back.

"Done enough? I barely even begun!" Anita scowled.

Frances pointed at Bree and Melinda. "Let them go."

Anita scoffed. "For someone so handsome you are incredibly stupid. When i said your family, i also meant those two. By the way, you intend on marrying the girl, don't you?"

Melinda's red eyes suddenly carried warmth. Her soft gaze made Frances want to melt into his shoes. He had never mentioned anything about marriage but it had been at the back of his mind for a while. Anita also seemed to know everything and wouldn't shut up when necessary.

"Although i can clearly remember you wanting to do the opposite."

"I was sixteen." Frances defended.

"Yes, yes!" Anita waved her hand dismissively. "Young and foolish and whatnot. You probably did not mean that when you said it, but i mean the things i say Your Majesty."

At that point, everything went wrong.

The sky rumbled with thunder and lightning. Anita's hands became bathed in phosphorescent green smoke making Frances take a cautious step backward. He'd seen that magic before and he didn't like where this was going. The room rattled noisily and several doors across the castle began to burst open. Before Frances could comprehend what was happening, his family was present in the throne room.

They looked so sickly and weathered that he wanted to drop to his knees and bury his face in his hands. His mother clutched to his father, her eyes rotating across the floor like a lunatic's. She did not look okay, almost like she'd spent a week in a dark room and was suddenly shoved into a spotlight. His father looked the same but very unkempt. He stared at Frances apologetically. In fact, the whole family seemed to be staring at him the same way except Antoinette.

His gaze locked with his grandfather's. King Adam. A man Frances respected and feared so much, now on his knees looking helpless. His eyes were so strikingly blue Francis felt he was looking at his refection. His hair was loose around his shoulders and he wore clothes Frances thought he'd never see him in. Without his brushed up look and his golden crown, Adam looked more like a homeless commoner. The King must've apologized a hundred times with his eyes because Frances forced himself to look away.

Almost immediately, his gaze snapped back to his grandfather. He was kneeling next to François who in turn was kneeling next to Antoinette. Frances's eyes widened. Belle was missing.

He turned to Anita who winked playfully like they shared a secret. "Left your grandmother behind, eh? You always do that - abandon your family, which is why this is going to be so much fun."

The voice in the room!

Frances's feet felt like led but he walked over to a statue by the wall. It was dressed in full battle armor. Frances ripped off its sword and pointed the tip at Anita.

"Oh goody! You get to pick who dies first." She clapped.

"Of course. My first pick is you!" He said and charged her, bellowing with rage.