It had been a few days since the disastrous events that had unfolded at the enchanted castle. The village bimbettes, Paulette, Laurette, and Claudette, had watched in stunned silence as their beloved Gaston had met his demise, tumbling from the castle's turrets to his gruesome end below. Now, as the sisters strolled through the streets of their quaint French town, a palpable air of melancholy hung about them. Gone were the days of flirtatious giggles and simpering adoration for the rugged hunter. Instead, a somber cloud had settled over the bimbettes. Paulette led the way, her hair hanging limply around her face. Gone was the coquettish tilt of her head, replaced by a defeated slump of her shoulders. “Oh, mes amies," she sighed heavily, “how I miss our dear Gaston. Life simply has not been the same without him…” Laurette tottered along beside her, plump lower lip quivering. “Oui, oui," she sniffled, dabbing at the corners of her reddened eyes with a delicate handkerchief. "It is all so horribly tragic! Our poor Gaston, taken from us so cruelly!" Claudette fought to maintain her usual air of affected nonchalance, but the strain was evident in the tight set of her jaw. “I cannot believe he is truly gone," she murmured, gaze downcast. “After all this time, I had hoped...well, it matters not now." She shook her head slowly. The three sisters trudged onward, their normally boisterous spirits dampened by the weight of their collective grief. The villagers they passed cast them sorrowful glances, well aware of the bimbettes' profound loss.