Blinding Beauty (12 page)

Isa came to a stop just outside
Queen Monica’s tea room, and as she waited for the servant to
announce her arrival, she wondered about the women inside. If
Everard didn’t believe in her, why should they?

The queen’s tea room was an airy,
lavish space filled with sunlight and flowers of every kind.
Despite the lateness of the season, bright red and orange petals
seemed to cover each surface, and upon a quick peek, Isa realized
they were actually growing right in the room, rather than being cut
and placed in vases. Sleek, curved chairs carved of a pale wood
were placed in a large circle to accommodate the number of women
already present. Sofas for lounging edged the room, one placed
every few windows. The windows were tall, reaching nearly to the
ceiling, and the floor was covered in red stone tiles, like the
rest of the palace seemed to be. The furnishings, though, seemed
different in taste. Her astounding variety held pieces from a vast
number of lands, including a vase made by none other than one of
Isa’s old neighbors in Soudain.

Nearly a dozen women and girls
were already seated in the circle with small tables of treats
displayed between each individual. Most of the other women wore
lighter gowns than Isa did, but that was fine. The dark blue Isa
wore matched her mood. She painted a smile on, however, as she
broke into the circle just between Lady Jadzia and another woman,
whom she didn’t know.

The servant led Isa to the chair
directly to the left of Queen Monica’s seat; it was an honor to be
seated so close to the host. Isa curtsied to the queen, careful to
keep her head up. Once she was settled in her own chair, Isa took a
deep breath and nodded to Cerise, who curtsied formally before
leaving Isa both surrounded and all alone.

“
I want to thank you, Queen
Isabelle, for joining us on such short notice this morning.” Queen
Monica’s words were formal, but her voice had a quiet cadence to it
that Isa found relaxing. “Please, allow me to introduce you to the
rest of our company.” She gestured, and as she said their names,
each woman nodded her head in turn. “My daughter, Olivia, whom you
met yesterday. Lady Carlita of Giova, Queen Zineta of Anbin,
Princess Damira and Lady Jadzia of Staroz, Lady Beata of Vaksam,
Queen Kartek of Hedjet, and Queen Anna and her daughter, Princess
Daphne, of Ashland.” Isa smiled at each, hoping she wouldn’t insult
one of them by forgetting which name belonged to which face. At
least half of them would be easy. Queen Monica, Princess Olivia,
and Queen Kartek she knew. Unfortunately, Princess Damira, Lady
Jadzia, and Lady Beata’s faces would be carved into her memory
forever as well.

“
I must admit,” Queen Monica
continued as a servant handed Isa a delicate porcelain cup with
tiny painted green leaves, “that I was unaware Everard had married
until after the wedding had already passed. I apologize for the
oversight.” Isa noted the familiarity with which the queen talked
about Ever, and for some reason, it made her feel good.

“
There is nothing to forgive,” Isa
said. “Everard told me you were in Giova when it happened. The
wedding itself was quick.” Isa thought she heard a titter to her
left, but she sipped her tea and kept her face on Queen Monica. The
queen looked as if she were about to say something else, but Lady
Jadzia spoke instead.

“
You are looking well, Queen
Isabelle.”

“
Thank you,” Isa said hesitantly.
What an odd thing to say.

“
Most women do not look as lively
or keep their figures so well as you have in your fifth
month.”

Isa nearly dropped her
tea.

“
Lady Jadzia, whatever do you
mean?” It was Princess Olivia who had spoken, but all of the other
ladies looked as appalled as Isa felt.

Unabashed, Lady Jadzia widened her
eyes. “I apologize if I was mistaken. It was only my impression
that the queens of the Fortress always conceive within the first
month of their marriage.” The other women exchanged glances but
said nothing as they waited for Isa’s response. If there had been
any doubt as to how much this woman had wanted to marry Ever, it
was all gone now. She had managed to learn more about the queenship
than most Destinians ever knew in their lifetimes.

Isa took a deep breath. “It is the
tradition.”

“
I see. I had only
assumed—”

“
I think you will find, Lady
Jadzia, that I am anything but traditional.” Isa’s voice was hard.
She held Lady Jadzia’s gaze until propriety forced the other woman
to look away, her orange curls falling over her face to cover her
eyes.

Suddenly, Isa was thankful she and
Cerise had chosen such an uncomfortable dress. The stiff blue
material kept her back perfectly straight, itching her if she
slouched at all. She could not have looked defeated in that dress
even if she tried.

“
Queen Isabelle,” Queen Kartek
spoke up, throwing a withering glance at Lady Jadzia, who was
suddenly too busy smoothing out her flawless silk skirt to notice.
“Is your family well?”

“
They are, thank you.”

“
What lands do they hold?” Lady
Beata asked. “I’ve ridden through your countryside a few times in
my life, but I’ve never seen any lands by the name of
Marchand.”

Isa didn’t miss the trap. She
hesitated just a moment before answering. Their determination was
shocking, but Isa wasn’t about to let them frighten her off. “My
father is a man of trade,” she finally managed to answer in a cool
voice, taking another sip of her tea. “He and my mother own a store
in the marketplace in our capital city, Soudain, where they sell
goods and care for their children and personal
livestock.”

“
Goodness! Are you telling us you
have actually milked a cow?” Lady Jadzia placed her tea back on its
saucer with a loud clink. Some of it sloshed onto her ivory gown,
but she seemed too delighted in Isa’s past to notice.

“
Lady Jadzia!” Queen Monica
began.

“
It is quite alright, Your
Highness,” Isa said, before fixing her gaze on Lady Jadzia. “Yes, I
have milked cows. I have also hauled grain, sold goods, groomed
horses, and sewn dresses. I have worked alongside my parents until
my hands bled so that we could eat. It is a good thing, too, as
they are strong and ready, now that my husband has decided that I
should learn the art of war.” Out of the corner of her eye, Isa saw
Queen Kartek’s sly smile. Princess Olivia made a poor attempt at
smothering her giggles before being silenced by her mother’s sharp
look. The rest of the women fidgeted, however, and nervously
nibbled the pastries set out for them. Lady Jadzia’s red lips
parted, but it was a moment before anything came out.

“
I see. It’s just that Everard was
always so like his father. I had only assumed he would—”

“
What my husband and I choose to
do with our lives and our kingdom and our family is our business,
and ours alone. I will be sure to make you privy to such
information, however, when it is in your best interest to
know.”

“
And that,” Queen Monica spoke
before Lady Jadzia could respond, “will be enough of that. Lady
Jadzia, you have insulted my guest in my home more than I should
like to admit today, and I will not have it. You may take leave of
this company for the time being until you gain control of your
tongue.”

The blush in Lady Jadzia’s pale
cheeks and the humble nod she gave seemed to show for the first
time that she realized she had indeed gone too far. Mumbling an
apology, she dipped a quick curtsy to Queen Monica and the princess
before fleeing the room.

As Lady Jadzia passed her, Isa was
struck again with the realization that the noblewoman would have
been very beautiful had it not been for her mouth. She had lovely
curves, more than Isa could ever dream of having, and her skin was
flawless. Isa was instantly glad that she hadn’t been present for
Ever’s first betrothal ball. Watching Lady Jadzia throw herself at
him would have been torture.

The rest of the tea continued
without excitement, something which Isa more than welcomed. Queen
Monica was an expert at asking each guest exactly the right
question to elicit a response, and Isa began to learn a bit more
about other women there. She decided right away that she would like
to be friends with the queen and princess of Ashland. The lady of
Giova was rather dry, and spent most of the time stuffing her mouth
with scones. The others answered in turn, but offered little
information worth knowing, Princess Damira and Lady Beata in
particular. Queen Kartek was quiet, but sometimes took over asking
questions, Isa noticed, so Queen Monica could sip her tea and eat.
Princess Olivia, though she spoke little, seemed to Isa like she
might be a lot of fun. Of course, she also seemed as though she
could be a lot of trouble if she ever had the mind for it. In
person, she seemed far different from the shy princess King Rafael
had presented the night before.

The remainder of the tea was
enjoyable, but Isa ultimately found herself rather tired after her
encounter with Lady Jadzia. Not physically, but rather, she felt as
though her heart had been spent. Relief washed over her when Queen
Monica finally declared it time for her to oversee the preparations
for that night’s supper. Isa stood and curtsied, murmuring her
well-wishes to each in the circle until it was Princess Olivia’s
turn. Rather than curtsying, as everyone else had, however, the
princess surprised her by pulling her into an embrace.

“
Do not allow Jadzia to ruin your
day,” she whispered into Isa’s ear. “Rumor has it that she emptied
her father’s coffers on fineries to catch your husband’s eye at
that ball.” The princess released her, only to step back and take
Isa’s hands in her own as if they were already the best of friends.
“But look who has him now,” she added with a smirk. Isa felt
herself smiling back. It was impossible to be unaffected by the
young woman’s spirit. And, Isa grinned to herself as she met Cerise
in the hall, the princess was right.

Ever was hers.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

Escaping
Thoughts

Cerise eyed
Isa’s leather skirt and trousers suspiciously as Isa dug both the
clothes and her sword belt out of the wardrobe.

The combat wardrobe had been
Ever’s idea. As soon as they were married, he’d ordered the tailor
to make her clothes practical for swordplay and riding. No good
could come of anyone trying to move about in such stuffy gowns,
he’d told the reluctant Gigi.

Isa hadn’t been sure of the new
clothing though until she had tried it on. The top of the set was a
long-sleeved tunic made of supple red leather. The tunic was long
enough to look like a short skirt that ended just above the knees
of her trousers, which were the same thin leather, but brown. The
boots were similar to those she’d worn when she was crippled,
strong, with good support for her ankles. Though she felt
scandalous for thinking it, there was such freedom in trousers! Of
course, she would never admit such sentiments to her
mother.

“
I need some space,” Isa answered
Cerise’s unspoken question. “The streets here are too crowded for a
good ride, and most everyone in the palace will be preparing to
watch the games. The practice rooms will most likely be empty.”
Isa’s day in bed had given her ample time to indulge in self-pity,
but now she needed to think.

“
Just return in time to dress for
the contest, since you’re determined not to leave this gown on.”
Cerise shook her yellow curls indulgently as she picked the stiff,
blue gown up from the bed where Isa had tossed it. “And Isa,”
Cerise called out as Isa knocked for Norbert. “Please be careful.
Something about this place makes me nervous.”

Isa gave her friend a smile,
trying to look confident. She used the same smile to assure Norbert
that there was no need for him to accompany her. She was only going
to the training room downstairs. As soon as she was on her way,
however, the smile melted away. Cerise was right. Something felt
very off, and had since the moment they’d set foot in the palace.
If only Ever would tell her what.

Following a servant’s
instructions, Isa climbed down several flights of stairs to the
ground floor. After turning down a few hallways, which Isa hoped
she could remember on the way back, she came to a large square room
with twelve bright windows lining the southern wall. And to Isa’s
satisfaction, it was empty.

She unsheathed her sword and
walked to the center of the large room. As she prepared herself to
practice the form, Isa noted with appreciation how smooth the
floors were in here, too. The Fortress’s practice rooms were rough
and uneven, but Ever refused to have them smoothed down. The ground
was never smooth in battle, he would always say. And while Isa knew
he was right, the level, red stone floors would make her practice a
bit easier.

Closing her eyes, Isa pictured the
form in her head. Ever had taught her a number of combat forms,
specific movements, blocks, and thrusts that followed one another
in rapid order. Isa had struggled with them at first, until she
realized they resembled a dance. Thinking of the movements as such
had made memorizing them much easier. With her eyes still closed,
Isa began.

Though she would never tell him,
sometimes it was easier to practice without Ever present. She could
move at whatever speed she wished, and it gave her time to ponder.
This morning, she needed to understand what exactly had happened at
the ball. The slow, steady rhythm of the steps would help her do
that.