Flip flip flip.
It takes her about fifteen minutes to find a spell that suits her; she's getting pretty familiar with the magic books she can read. She memorizes it, and copies down the key points into her notebook, which she picks up to bring along. "Okay, now's good."
There is only one flower on the bush still standing tall and hanging onto a full crown of petals. A few of the rest, drooping off in all directions, still claim a petal or two.
Belle casts. She works through herself; it's a light sting, and she can tolerate it without losing hold of the spell. And with enchanter's sight on her, she looks at the rosebush that she believes to be the curse fondement.
The spell is very elegantly designed; the parameters for ending the curse are clear, and the open pathway for completing it is still in good order after all this time. A strong, focused emotional connection of romantic love between the Beast and anyone else will fill up the waiting power well and transform the spell, leaving the Beast in his human form again, the castle back at the edge of the forest, and both castle and forest completely unmagical.
If, on the other hand, he doesn't manage to fulfill the parameters... the pathway will close. The goal of forest and castle will turn from the complicated sorting it currently does, turning away only those people who are probably incompatible, to a simple and easy equal rejection of everyone. If there is anyone else present, it will pick them up and dump them out. The Beast will live forever in his lovely, lonely castle.
And he was wrong about how much time they have left. The ultimate deadline is in a little less than a year and a half.
"Year and a half," murmurs Belle. "And if it's not broken by then, I'm sent away, and no one ever finds this place again, and you're still immortal."
"I - I think I'm progressing in the enchanting books at a decent clip," she says, still staring at the rosebush even after her enchanter's sight fades out. "But this is a huge, complicated spell - and disenchanting it will be hard - and it's very specific about the kind of love, too -"
He sits down on the floor amid drifts of dessicated petals and buries his hands despairingly in his mane.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm only reading what it says - I can read very quickly - if you help me with the books in the other languages maybe I can do it, a year and a half isn't that short a time -"
"Sadistic overreactive psychopathic witch," mutters Belle to herself, turning to return to the library.
"I can't even figure out if she wanted you to break the curse or not. Some of the parts seemed helpful - sorting people by their likelihood of being a suitable other party, the long time limit from the beginning of the curse - but - some of the parts do not, like turning you into a - whatever you are. Cat-creature. Putting the entire castle in the middle of the woods so in all these years only one person has passed the minimum threshold of likelihood."
"How come you're that picky, anyway? People get lost in these woods all the time. Even just in my lifetime and just in my village I've seen several girls about my age stumble out of the Witchwood having been lost for more than long enough for the castle to draw them in." She starts sketching a curriculum for herself that bypasses every skill not necessary for learning disenchantment. She does not need to become intimately familiar with all four power sources; she does not need to learn to channel through an unwilling subject (she wouldn't have needed that anyway), she does not have to learn a repertoire of even the most appealing spells for their own sake but only to build her own skills.
"Did any of them seem like the type to fall in love with an enormous lion-man?" he inquires.
"I didn't ask them," says Belle, "but then, if I'd stumbled out of the wood instead of getting stuck here, and someone from Dulac or wherever I wandered to asked me 'are you by chance the type to fall in love with an enormous lion-man', I would have believed myself to be conversing with the village idiot."
...And then she looks up that seeing-things-as-their-true-form spell, the one she originally set aside in favor of seeing-the-past.
Maybe there is a way to just leave it on.
But there's a cross-reference to another spell, and that one lets the caster choose a kind of spell-sight to keep ready at all times, to be triggered merely by applying one's Will in the appropriate direction, without the pain or fuss of a full recasting.
It takes significantly more power than any of the cross-referenced vision spells, including 'To See True Form or Nature', and then of course needs the power requirements of the encapsulated spell on top of its own. The complexity of casting is likewise a significant step up.
And she looks at her disenchantment curriculum.
It will take her a few days to learn the spellsight permanence.
It will take her - longer - to learn the disenchantment. Longer to do it without tearing herself apart even if Beast lets her channel the whole thing through him.
She frowns at her curriculum and starts jotting down optimistic periods of time it might take to learn each substep.
She adds up the column of figures.
It's as optimistic as she can possibly be, in reality she'd probably have to detour to pick up something she forgot to include, and she could still get herself killed.
"We could," she says, "I suppose, always try doing it her way."
"I'm the type to spend a week on learning to apply this sort of spell-sight," she says, tapping the book, "if that's the best thing to do. I really don't know about the lion-man part, but I don't think so."