(Untitled)

[thiefprinceremy]

Remy was perched in a chair at a cafe down the block, really, not far off at all, from where Belle was having her meeting with the Friars. His theory was that they wouldn't expect him so close, given as how he was dead

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[poisonwine]

She wandered out of the restaurant she'd been meeting the Friars in, looking like any properly bereaved widow, black widow's weeds, and a hat that conveniently had a thick black veil, so she wouldn't have to put on makeup to hide her bruises.

She had even managed a sniffle or two. It had really been quite a show.

It took her half a second to find him, and she shook her head when she did. After scanning to make sure she hadn't been followed, she took a seat next to him, still completely concealed behind her veils. "Well, I'm sorry if dis'll spoil de mood, but I'm officially in mourning."

That wasn't the sound of a smirk, it was unspeakable woe. Really.

[thiefprinceremy]

He nodded at that, managing, after a moment of expressional struggle, to look solemn, "Well t'en, s't'ere anyt'in' I can offer t'lady f'her sorrow 'fore she goes t'catch 'er train?"

[poisonwine]

"Non, de sooner I leave de city dat killed him, de sooner I c'n find peace. Merci, kind stranger, f'r de offer, though."

[thiefprinceremy]

He nodded once, still totally looking solemn. See? See how solemn he looks?

"Oui, well t'en we'd best get a move on, hm?" He said as he finished off his coffee and unfolded from his chair, "And s't'least I can do f'a woman in grief."