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What did Belle think of what little she saw of him by dungeon torchlight? But he knew, didn’t he? She’d called him a monster! Leave her to the servants, then; let them weave tales of his dastardly deeds! Let them confirm how vile and ugly he was. He cared not! After all, he was a monster. And monsters knew not feelings, especially the sentiment called love.
No wonder men didn’t take women seriously; they had classes in walking while men learned ancient languages.
To die, one must have first been alive. And the Beast could finally say that by finding love, he had lived.