Belle waited for the beast to settle down by the fire and looked at him for a long moment. Yes, he was still scary, and she was still afraid of him. But at the same time, she was starting to put her fears to rest as it came to the possibility of him harming her. When the beast glanced away at her question, Belle felt her heart race for a moment. Would he have done it? Did he have it in him? She really hoped he didn't.<br/><br/>When he said indeed he would not have killed her father, Belle believed him, and it put her heart at ease. It was as she had thought. Part of her was still afraid of him and, she considered, would always be. But another more tolerant part of her thought about how much he should suffer with whatever was happening to him.<br/><br/>The thought of what she had seen in the morning made Belle's heart fill with compassion. She took a deep breath and laid her gaze on the beast for a long moment. "Sir...", she started, polite as usual, "will you tell me why this happened to you?". Her request was made in an almost timid voice, as though she was afraid he might be infuriated by this question. But Jaques had told her the story was not his to tell, and she was sure the creature before her eyes was the one who owned this story and could choose to tell it. And maybe, by hearing it, she would understand what she was doing there, and what use she could be of, if any.