Beauty (6 page)
T
he moon was full that night and the windows were wide open to let the light shine through; the feast was a merry affair. The sumptuous banqueting hall had been decorated with flowers and candles and every table was filled with more food than the guests could possibly eat. The huntsman and Petra sat to either side of Beauty and the prince, who really only had eyes for each other and spent most of the evening holding each other’s hands and feeding each other sweetmeats.
Petra, dressed in a beautiful red gown and looking every inch the court lady, was talking to a minister seated on the other side of her while the huntsman, not one for small talk at the best of times, ate and drank while quietly watching the gathered guests. They were mainly older men and women and although they smiled and laughed, he noticed that they did not look often to the main table where their queen sat.
‘Some more wine, sir?’
The huntsman looked up to see a pretty serving girl smiling at him. He nodded and she leaned forward to refill his glass, angling her body so that her ample cleavage was clearly on display should he choose to look. Being a hot-blooded man of the forest, he did. ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘Who are all these guests?’
‘Ministers and their wives mainly,’ she answered. ‘Friends of the old king. Why do you ask, sir?’ She continued to lean forward intimately and he could smell her clean warmth and her young skin was clear and bright.
‘They just all seem a little old for the queen. Where are all the young men of the court?’
‘Oh, they don’t come to these dinners, sir. They come to the balls. I don’t serve at the balls so I can’t tell you about them.’
The flirtation in her voice was replaced with a slightly defensive edge, but the huntsman squeezed her hand and winked and the blush returned to her face. Suddenly he felt the need for something simple and uncomplicated and this girl was clear about her attraction to him.
‘Perhaps, after the feast,’ he said, ‘we could drink some wine and I could tell you a few things about my homeland.’
‘I’d like that.’ The girl grinned. ‘I’ll find my way to your rooms then.’ She turned and bustled away and the huntsman smiled after her. Courtly intrigue he could live without.
‘Hey.’ A finger tapped his shoulder and Petra snuck into the seat beside him. ‘The forest hasn’t opened up.’
‘What?’ The huntsman was still wondering how the serving girl would feel beneath him. Petra nudged him again.
‘The minister I was talking to. He said that the forest wall is still there. The curse or whatever it is can’t have been broken fully.’ She paused. ‘Is it just me, or does everything seem a bit odd? Bits of this castle just don’t make sense.’
‘It’s not just you,’ the huntsman muttered. ‘I saw the dungeons—’ But before he could say any more the prince got to his feet, tapping the side of his crystal wine glass with a small spoon. His face was flushed and his eyes sparkled.
‘Firstly, I would like to thank you all for this wonderful hospitality you have shown me and my travelling companions. We are honoured and humbled at the kindness you have shown us.’
There was a smattering of applause and the huntsman nodded awkwardly at the guests who caught his eye.
‘But my biggest thanks must be for the beauty that you have brought into my life.’ The prince looked down at the smiling woman beside him and suddenly the huntsman knew where this speech was going. The prince was headstrong and impulsive, he’d already known that, but foolish was about to be added to the list.
‘From the moment I saw her asleep on her bed, I knew I would love her forever. I had never seen anyone so perfect,’ he said. ‘I have asked her if she will marry me,’ he smiled at the guests, ‘and she has said yes.’
A few gasps ran round the room and then the assembled ministers burst into applause. The huntsman watched as a few of the men exchanged glances as they clapped. Behind their smiles, they weren’t entirely happy with the news.
‘And so,’ the queen got to her feet, ‘let there be music and dancing!’
I
t was when the young couple were on their third dance that the first minister signalled the huntsman and Petra to follow him to an ante-chamber and closed the door behind them. He poured them each a glass of red wine and then sat behind a heavily inlaid desk. The huntsman wondered if the young prince realised who really ran this kingdom. It wasn’t the pretty girl he was dancing with, that was for certain.
‘I want you to undertake a task for me,’ he said. ‘Your prince has said I may count on your agreement.’
For the thousandth time since leaving his home, the huntsman once again silently cursed the prince.
‘My job,’ he said, leaning against the wall and sipping his wine, ‘is to protect the prince and ensure his safe return. Nothing more.’
‘Then you will do as I ask. For I imagine his safety depends on it: you must find Rumplestiltskin and bring him to me.’
‘Don’t you have soldiers who can do that?’ Petra asked. ‘You do seem to have a lot of soldiers here.’
‘The soldiers are looking for him too. But I have my reasons for wanting you to find him rather than them.’
‘Why?’ the huntsman asked. He thought of the dungeons but didn’t mention that he’d seen them. Somehow he thought that might blacken his card and, as Petra had pointed out, there were a
lot
of soldiers in the city. It wouldn’t be difficult for the first minister to dispose of a travelling huntsman. And nor did he want to end up on the wrong side of one of those cell doors.
‘Just to be certain,’ the first minister smiled, hiding an impatient flash of an expression behind it. ‘You don’t think he was working alone,’ Petra said.
‘You want names from him.’
‘My reasons are none of your concern. Suffice to say that I want him brought to me and the spindle he carries destroyed.’ He took a thick piece of parchment from the desk and handed it to the huntsman. ‘Those are the addresses of his home and other places he frequents. Perhaps you’ll find clues to his whereabouts there.’
The huntsman took it and tucked it into his belt. ‘We’ll try, but we don’t know your city or its people. The soldiers will have more luck.’
‘You’re a huntsman,’ the first minister purred. ‘Hunt.’
‘We’ll wait until the city is asleep,’ he said, ‘and go then.’ He opened the door for Petra and they left the minister behind.
‘He thinks there are other conspirators,’ Petra said. ‘Why would anyone conspire against Beauty? She seems the kindest and gentlest of creatures.’
Without consultation, neither of them headed back to the banqueting room from which music and laughter drifted towards them, but took the central staircase up to their rooms.
‘Who knows?’ the huntsman said. As they turned onto a vast landing the curtains billowed in the evening breeze coming through the open veranda doorways. Petra paused and her gaze drifted, as if their current conversation was suddenly forgotten. ‘Did you hear that?’ she asked.
‘What?’ the huntsman frowned. His hearing, trained by years of tracking, was excellent but aside from the revellers below and the breeze the air was empty.
‘Oh nothing,’ Petra said softly, heading towards the balcony doors. ‘Just something I’ve heard before. From the other side of the wall.’ She pulled the curtains back and stood in the open doorway. Outside the moon shone full and low in the dark sky. ‘I think I’ll sit out here for a while. Get some fresh air.’
‘You don’t have to come with me tonight,’ the huntsman said. ‘You may be safer in the castle.’
‘I want to come,’ she answered. ‘There’s something in this city I need to find too.’ She glanced back at him over her delicate shoulder, her eyes dark in the gloom. ‘And I’m not at all sure how safe this castle is.’
He couldn’t argue with that. His own senses had been humming ever since the queen woke up and the first minister’s request made his nerves jangle. He was already a pawn in one royal court’s game, and now he was embroiled in another. As Petra wandered out towards the edge of the balcony, he left her and took the stairs two at a time, needing to release some energy.
A figure waited outside his bedroom door. He frowned and then smiled. It was the serving girl. She dropped into a slight curtsey.
‘I wondered where you’d gone.’ She looked up, her eyes sparkling mischievously. ‘I thought p’raps you might like something brought to your room.’ She held up a jug of wine. ‘I thought I could serve it to you. Personally.’
The huntsman laughed and swung open the door to his room. He bowed. ‘Ladies first.’
‘Oh,’ the girl giggled as she passed him. ‘I’m no lady.’
‘
P
erhaps all this was just fate,’ Beauty murmured into his chest as the prince held her close and they danced. ‘If Rumplestiltskin hadn’t . . . done whatever he did, if I hadn’t slept, then we’d have never met.’ She looked up at him and smiled. It was the sweetest expression he’d ever seen and his heart melted all over again just looking at her exquisite face. Her eyes were the colour of clear water in a summer stream and he wanted to dive into them. To know her completely. ‘I would have been long dead before you were born,’ she continued. ‘You would never have woken me.’
‘Then yes, my love.’ He kissed her forehead. Her skin was soft and her hair smelled of spring flowers. He was completely enchanted by her. ‘It must be fate.’
‘You saved me,’ she tilted her face up to him, the two blonde streaks in her perfectly black hair hanging loose in styled curls to either side of her pale cheeks. His lips met hers and they kissed again. She was soft in his arms and the feel of her tongue touching his was electric. He
had
saved her. Already, in his mind, he had pushed aside the image of the huntsman bandaging her finger and stemming her dripping blood at the moment she woke. That was simply coincidence.
‘True love’s kiss is the only way to break a curse,’ she said, her mouth only parted from his by a breath. ‘Everyone knows that.’
‘And I love you truly,’ he whispered back, his voice raw. He did love her. It had gripped him from the moment he’d touched her, a wave of wonder and awe and passion that he’d never felt before. It was almost like magic. He pulled her closer to feel the swell of her bosom against his shirt. His mouth dried slightly as he fought the urge to run his hands over her body.
‘Let’s get married quickly,’ he said. His desire for her was so great he wasn’t sure he could wait any longer. Everything else had faded away; his father’s wishes for an expansion to his kingdom, the desire to return home laden with treasure and be treated like a hero, even his normal lust for drinking and wenching had gone. Home was a distant memory. All that mattered was this girl and possessing her completely.
‘Yes,’ she said, as breathless as he was. Her eyes sparkled in the light from the glittering chandeliers above. ‘I will announce it to the city tomorrow and we shall wed the next day. We’ll have a family and live happily ever after. I shall give everyone in the city a gold coin as a wedding gift to show my happiness. And there will be days of feasting. I want my people to be as happy as I am. It’s all I ever want.’
The prince was sure his heart would explode. Not only was she beautiful, she was kind and gentle and generous too. ‘I can’t believe that you weren’t betrothed already,’ he said. ‘What is wrong with the noblemen of this kingdom? Or the princes close by?’
‘My father was very protective of me,’ she said, quietly, a slight shadow darkening her face and her eyes glancing away. She must have loved him very much, the prince thought. ‘Well, now I’ll protect you,’ he said. ‘My huntsman will find the traitor and all will be well.’
‘And we’ll live happily ever after,’ Beauty murmured again, her smile returning. They kissed once more and the music played on. Around them, aware that the young couple had eyes for none but each other, the ministers and their wives quietly slipped away. They were no longer young and neither was the night, and despite having spent a century sleeping their bodies were tired and their feet ached and they wanted to let their smiles drop.
A few paused at the door and glanced back with a mixture of nerves and heart-ache. She was so very beautiful, and so very sweet. And then they shuddered slightly, unable to stop themselves, before heading to their rooms in the castle.
I
t was a cool spring night, but Petra didn’t care. The castle, exquisite as so much of it was, felt claustrophobic, and she couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling that had plagued her since Beauty had woken. The prince was blind to it – blind to everything but his sudden love – and even that she found strange. She knew men could be fools where women were concerned, and although the prince was too spoiled and arrogant for her to find him attractive he hadn’t struck her as stupid. Her great-grandmother had passed down many tales of handsome princes – stories that were no doubt just flights of fancy – but they had ingrained in her the truth that royals were invariably only true to themselves. This one was suddenly a changed man, if that were the case.
The forest wall was still thick around them. The garish ballroom she’d found while the city slept was now firmly locked. Things were not well in this kingdom. She leaned on the smooth white marble of the balcony and tilted her head back. Above, the moon was full and heavy in the sky, shining its cool light over the darkness of the city below. Music drifted up from the ballroom as the party endlessly continued and she frowned as she tried to listen
beyond
it. It was an irritating distraction from the sound her ears sought. The counterpart to her soulful duet that had drawn her here even before the prince and the huntsman had arrived in her life. She didn’t care about castles and sleeping beauties. She didn’t even care about curses. These things were best left to run their course. It was the haunting song which had found her through the thick forest wall that held her here.