Blinding Beauty (13 page)

Ever’s behavior at the ball had
hurt Isa more than she wanted to admit. When he had returned to the
room, however, she’d felt more comforted, more loved than she had
in a long time. The idea of Lady Jadzia being chosen by Ever,
cradled in his arms, dancing with him, practicing swordplay with
him, although the latter image was rather unlikely, provoked Isa
beyond reason. True, her powers were failing, but Isa had been the
one to face the curse with Ever. Isa had fallen in love, not with
the daydream of a king, but with a broken, twisted, and hollow man.
Isa had been forced to watch him die, and then had to be willing to
live on without him. And it had been Isa whom the Fortress had
returned him to. No, Lady Jadzia could daydream and plot all she
wanted, but the Fortress had chosen Isa, and Ever would be hers
until the day she died.

A shock rippled through her as a
wave of blue fire slid from her hand down her sword. How long had
it been since she’d felt such pure power? Isa knew there was only
one definite way to search for more.

Isa carefully placed her sword at
the edge of the practice floor, near one of the windowed walls,
then returned to the middle of the room. With a renewed vigor, Isa
threw herself into a different kind of motion. Dancing, though far
less practical than swordplay, was her surest way to find her
power. Unfortunately, Isa had been kept so busy at home, that there
hadn’t been time for dancing in months. But she was here now, and
no one was watching. Faster and faster she went. Her body was
fluid, flowing like water into steps, leaps, and turns.

The power wasn’t strong, but she
could feel it as it churned its way through her. Like water to a
parched desert, she drank in the presence of her beloved Fortress,
despite being in another kingdom. In this state of joy, she could
feel it, even from afar.

If only she could stay in this
moment forever.

In the middle of one of her hops,
however, the toe of her shoe caught, and she found herself
stumbling. Instead of tripping forward as she ought to have, Isa
began to fall to the right, directly into one of the windows. She
placed her hand on the glass in an effort to steady herself, but
when she tried to pull away, it stuck. Something was keeping her
there, and despite her attempts to pull herself away from the
glass, it held her fast. Her fingers might as well have been melded
to the pane, and the oddest trickle began to move through her. Fear
seized Isa as frigid air blew on her face. Gathering all of her
strength, Isa pushed herself away so hard that she fell to the
ground.

Her breath was ragged as she
stared at the window. Nothing looked out of the ordinary from where
she’d fallen. Through the window she had just been held captive to,
she could still see the tall trees rising into the autumn sky with
birds flying past them. The window itself looked absolutely
commonplace. In wonder, Isa held up her right hand. It also looked
as it should. It was as though nothing had been amiss. But she had
most assuredly felt a new kind of power, and one that differed
vastly from hers or Ever’s.

“
Would you like some assistance,
Your Majesty?” A servant hurried towards her, but stopped just a
few feet away. He seemed torn between approaching her and waiting
for her approval, one arm outstretched, the other still hanging at
his side.

Isa tried to stand, but was forced
back down onto the floor when a dull pain shot through her leg. She
tried to smile as she nodded. “Thank you. I seem to have twisted my
ankle.”

As he got closer, she studied his
thick mop of tight, silver curls and his cheery face. He wasn’t
tall. In fact, he seemed a good deal shorter than Isa. As he helped
her stand, however, she could tell that he was physically more than
capable of helping her return to her rooms.

Gingerly, she tested her ankle,
but could make it no farther than a few steps before she was
obligated to ask for his help again. “I don’t know what the matter
with me is,” she said ruefully as they began the tedious climb up
the first set of stairs. “I never stumble when I dance.”

“
I don’t mind a bit,” he said in a
singsong voice, which Isa thought to be quite pleasant. “My name is
Brokk. Or at least, that’s what my mother called me. And I must
confess,” he paused and gave her a shy smile, “I have actually been
hoping to meet you, ever since I found out you were going to be
staying in the palace.”

“
You have?” Isa felt a flutter in
her stomach, though she couldn’t say what for.

“
Your Highness, there is such news
of what you have done for the people of Destin, for your husband!
It has traveled far, and your power has inspired many!”

“
I wish I could accept such praise
with a clear conscience.” Heat gathered in her neck as Isa
considered his words with shame. They walked in silence for a few
moments before the servant spoke again.

“
I hope I am not being too
forward, Your Highness, but are you referring to the little stumble
you had? Or rather, was that incident perhaps related to a greater
problem?” When Isa couldn’t bring herself to answer, he nodded
slowly. “And what does your husband think of your
struggle?”

“
He’s not sure.” She sighed. “My
power is different from his.” As the words left her mouth, Isa
found herself very grateful for the kindness of this unusually
forward servant. But even as she thought it, Ever’s warning at the
ball about speaking too freely of her strength suddenly echoed in
her mind. She hadn’t meant to say so much to the servant. In her
exasperation, it had just slipped.

“
Yes, I heard about that. What is
it that you possess differently? Strength of the mind, was
it?”

“
Of the heart,” Isa
whispered.

“
Ah, yes, now I remember. Well,
here we are.” They had stopped in front of Isa’s door. Isa nearly
asked how he knew where she was staying, but then remembered that
at her own Fortress, Garin made it the business of all the servants
to know who all their guests were and where they were staying.
Thanking him once again, she held out her arm for Norbert to help
her into the room. The older guard gave her a look that threatened
violence to whomever had injured her until she assured him twice
over that she had only tripped. As much as she loved Norbert, she
decided not to tell him of the strange power that had briefly held
her in its grasp. It was too confusing.

Once Norbert had left her inside,
Isa lowered herself onto the bed, misery overtaking her once more.
She had fled her room that morning in order to escape the thoughts
she’d awakened to when she realized Ever had already dressed and
gone. The way he’d kissed her brow softly, and had fallen asleep
holding her to his chest for not one but the last two nights, had
been the sweetest moments she’d shared with her husband in a long
time. Still, she should have known better than to hope for him to
continue his attentions in the morning. If nothing else, Ever was
dutiful, and whatever had him on edge now had called him away
again.

If only he trusted her enough to
tell her, she nearly moaned. So much for finding a
distraction.

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Game of Glass

“
I was
hoping that was you,” Cerise announced, walking in from the small
room that was attached to Isa’s chambers. “It’s time you began to
dress for the games.” Isa did her best to smile as Cerise pulled
the cranberry dress from the wardrobe. This one had sleeves at
least. Sleeves so sheer they were nearly invisible.

“
Did Gigi have to order every
dress to show my shoulders?” Isa grimaced. “For the heavens’ sakes,
it’s almost winter!”

“
I’m sure your husband won’t
complain.” Cerise raised an eyebrow and smirked. “The last time you
wore this he noticed.” When Isa raised her own eyebrows, Cerise
just laughed. “I may be a servant, but to miss that man’s stare,
one would have to be blind.”

Doubts still lingered, but Isa did
feel a little better. They continued in silence, which gave Isa
time to think, although she did get a quick scolding about her
ankle. Rather than give thought to her worries, however, Isa
decided to think about how grateful she was that Ever didn’t insist
on her wearing tightened stays in her dress, as was high fashion.
Not that she would have worn them even if he had.

The first grand gathering they’d
hosted after the curse was broken had been an attempt to
reestablish Destin’s place with a few of their neighbors. There had
been no ball held with the gathering, so most of the guests had
been men, foreign ambassadors and princes.

As her tutor’s female assistant
had prepared her for the evening, hammering names and etiquette
into her head, one of the servants had brought out a long piece of
stiff fabric with dozens of thin metal rods running up and down its
entire length. Without a word, the servant had begun to fasten it
about her waist and chest. After tying it in place, she took the
strings that dangled down Isa’s backside and with a great heave,
began to pull. Isa had nearly passed out as her chest seemed to
collapse and her waist had nearly disappeared.

“
Stop!” she had gasped, desperate
to draw in air. “Please! I can’t breathe!”

“
You will learn, as all the ladies
of the court do,” her tutor’s assistant had said with a shrug. “It
will not be so bad when you become used to it.” She had nodded at
the servant to begin pulling once again, but Isa had quickly yanked
the strings away.

“
I am not wearing this! I don’t
care what the ladies of fashion do!”

What she hadn’t expected was for
her tutor to report Isa’s obstinance to Ever. Sometimes it seemed
no one could remember that she had just as much right to the throne
as her husband did. His response, however, had been so enjoyable
that it hadn’t mattered.

“
But all the ladies of the court
are wearing it, Your Highness,” Master Claude, her head tutor, had
complained. “It will be expected!”

Ever had only rubbed his eyes.
“Pray tell, what exactly are stays, Master Claude?” And so the
tutor had brought forth the disagreeable contraption and had
explained precisely how a fashionably tiny waist was gained. Ever’s
response, however, was not what the etiquette master had seemed to
expect. The horror on Ever’s face still made Isa smile when she
remembered it. That anyone could be so daft as to restrain one’s
ability to breathe, much less run or duel, was beyond Ever, and
Master Claude was instructed never to bring the matter up again.
Gigi had taken over Isa’s wardrobe soon after that, and to Isa’s
relief, the awful stays had never resurfaced. And yet, Isa thought
with annoyance, the older woman’s obsession with the see-through
sleeves had brought her just one more way to stand out
tonight.

“
Are you nearly ready? They’re
beginning soon.” Ever’s voice came from the doorway.

“
Almost,” Isa called back, and for
the hundredth time that day, resented the simplicity of men’s
fashions that allowed Ever to dress so quickly without assistance.
Her vexation was slightly dulled, however, when she turned to catch
him staring fixedly at her figure.

“
First I need you to heal my
ankle, then I need to talk to you.” That broke his trance. A dark
look came over his face as he went to her and bent to examine her
ankle.

“
Come sit.” He drew up a
chair.

“
I stumbled in the practice room,”
Isa said carefully, doing as he’d directed and measuring his
reaction. He didn’t look up from her ankle, which he had laid in
his lap. She waited for a moment as he twisted it gently in
different directions, freezing when she winced.

“
It’s not broken,” he said in a
low voice. “How did it happen?”

“
I’m not sure,” she admitted. He
raised his eyebrows skeptically, so she rushed to explain, hoping
to avoid the overreaction she knew was highly likely. “I’d been
practicing alone... and dancing some, when I stumbled and fell into
a window pane.” She glanced up at him again to see the blue fire
blazing dangerously in his eyes, his lips mashed tightly together.
“When I touched the glass, something touched me, as though it were
trying to pull me into the window itself. It was a power somewhat
like our own, yet different.”

“
Did it hurt you?” he asked in a
flat voice.

“
No, I only twisted my ankle when
I stumbled. But it was strong. Perhaps...” she paused, knowing that
what she said next could put her husband into one of his famous
brooding moods, “...stronger than Nevina’s power.”

A daring thought flitted across
her mind. It was a subject she had long wished he would broach, but
not a word had been said about her fledgling powers since they had
begun to wane. It didn’t seem to make a difference how many times
she seemed to fail. Maybe, since they were in the right context
now, she could finally draw out of Ever what he truly thought of
her struggles. And even more, why he thought the fire was beginning
to fade from her eyes.

“
I can’t help thinking,” she
whispered before her courage fled, “that I might not have fallen
had my powers been stronger. What do you think?” She placed one
trembling hand on his to stop him as he continued to test her
ankle, and used the other hand to raise his face to hers. When
their eyes finally met, she stared into his, praying he would see
what she meant. That he would assure her everything would work
itself out. Or even that he, too, was concerned, but they would
overcome it. When he did speak, however, she found only
disappointment crashing inside of her as her hopes were dashed to
pieces.