Authors: Brittany Fichter
Tags: #beauty, #love story, #princess, #fairy tale, #clean romance, #happy ending, #trilogy, #beauty and the beast, #retelling, #glass hill
Ever heard the arrow before he
could see it. With a sharp crack, it hit the tree behind them,
missing Rafael’s neck by inches. Rafael’s horse reared, but Ever’s
had been seasoned with more battles than he could count. Another
arrow missed Rafael as he tried to get his steed under control,
this time it came from further to the left. While Rafael continued
to wrestle with his horse, distant hoof beats told Ever all he
needed to know. With just a touch to his horse’s sides, he and his
beast were off in pursuit.
Ever laid low so the trees
wouldn’t hit him as they sped through the trees. It wasn’t long
before Ever’s horse snorted. Ever gave him the lead, knowing he
would follow the scent much faster than Ever could track by sight.
Soon, the rear hooves of their prey’s ride came into view. It was a
gray steed, and blended in well with the surrounding
forest.
They moved up and down hills, and
even forded a small creek before Ever was able to come up alongside
the attacker. Anger coursed through him as he caught sight of the
man’s saddlebags. Seeing the familiar red crest was like being
thrust back into his youth, when he had chased hundreds of the
separatists from the Cobrien borders with his father.
Yanking his sword out, Ever
pointed it at the horse, hoping not to spook the animal too badly,
just to bring him to a halt. It was the rider he was interested in.
Blue fire gathered around his forearm, swirling about it briefly
before shooting down the tip of his sword and into the beast
itself. It let out a whinny of pain as the blue fire engulfed it.
The encounter was brief, lasting only long enough for the horse to
stop so quickly its rider fell off. Once it was free, the beast
trotted off, completely unscathed. Ever couldn’t say the same would
happen for its rider. Without pause, he was off his horse as well,
crouching over the man and pressing his sword into the man’s
neck.
“
Who sent you?”
“
I act alone!”
“
You’re lying.”
The man started to protest again,
but stopped when the blue flame returned to Ever’s hand, the one
that held him down. The man’s eyes grew wide as it flowed and
swayed in place. Ever leaned down to whisper in his ear, “As you
can see, my fire doesn’t burn unless I tell it to. It, can,
however, leave a dastardly stinging sensation.”
The man’s cry was loud, and long
enough that Ever hoped it would change his mind about his next
answer. “Now, who sent you?”
“
I… I was paid!”
“
By whom?”
“
You saw my crest! Who
else?”
Just then, Rafael rode up, flanked
by a dozen of his guards. “I see you haven’t lost your
touch.”
“
And I see you have.” Ever
sheathed his sword as the guards gathered up the unfortunate young
man to take him away. “You’ve gotten fat, Rafael. And
slow.”
“
We can’t all be you or your
father, Everard,” Rafael sighed.
“
Does this happen
often?”
Rafael shrugged and made an
impatient gesture with his hands. “The rebel attacks resumed not
long after you and your father returned to Destin.”
“
Why didn’t you say
anything?”
Rafael shrugged. “They were very
few for a while. But they’ve been steadily increasing in
number.”
Ever stayed quiet as he swung back
onto his horse, and they began their trek back to the palace.
Rafael spoke again, and for the first time, his voice was tired,
void of the jovial sound he’d kept since Ever had first arrived.
His large frame sagged, and the wrinkles at his eyes seemed to
double.
“
Do you see now why I need someone
here though? I appreciate your help. I always have. But you cannot
be here all the time to rescue me.” Rafael pulled at his beard as
he stared at ahead. “I need someone here who can do more than I. I
might be fair at trade, but we both know I was never that
strong.”
Ever didn’t answer at first. What
Rafael said was true. In fact, it was probably the first sincere
admittance Ever had heard since arriving. Still, a needy king only
made the situation direr, riper for an intrusion, and Ever had yet
to find out who exactly had come to the king’s aid, claiming to be
a holy man with signs, no less. “Have my years of friendship at
least equaled a sign in merit to you?”
Rafael turned and gave him a weary
smile. “What is it you want, Everard?”
“
Let me meet him. At least let me
get to see him face to face.”
“
Very well. Tomorrow, after the
games are done. Meet me at the naval dock.”
As Rafael said the words, a huge
weight was lifted from Ever’s shoulders. He finally had an end in
sight. The sooner he could see this mystery solved, the better.
They could go home, and he could care for Isa the way she
deserved.
The two kings rode in silence for
a few moments, the only sound, the crunching of dead leaves under
their horse’s hooves.
“
Perhaps,” Rafael finally said in
a soft voice, “you will allow me more grace when you have a child
of your own, one whose future depends solely on your strength and
wisdom. Then, maybe, then you will not judge me so
harshly.”
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Boy Inside the
Man
The rap on
the door startled Isa so much that she jumped, not enough to fall
over, but enough for the unruly fire she’d been attempting to wield
to shoot off into a ceramic vase on one of the bedside tables. The
crash felt loud enough to wake the entire palace.
“
Your Majesty?” Norbert called
through the thick wooden door. “Are you well?” It was a moment
though before Isa could gather her dignity enough to
answer.
“
Well enough. What do you
need?”
“
Queen Kartek of—”
“
Send her in.” Isa knew she was
being more than rude, but she’d had about all she could take of the
southern queen. Isa had been grateful for her rescue on the night
of the first ball and the queen’s kindness at the tea, but Ever’s
constant talk of his old acquaintance was grinding on her nerves.
Then the pointed looks he and Kartek had sent one another over
supper the night before, and finally, his abandonment of Isa for
their meeting had been too much. She was on the verge of telling
her husband that if he was so impressed with the queen, he should
volunteer to be one of her servants.
As she bent down to pick up the
larger shards of the vase, Norbert opened the door and the southern
queen glided in.
Even without looking at Kartek,
jealousy filled every cranny of Isa’s being. The woman was
everything she was not. The natural ease with which she kept her
posture, the confidence in her stride, and the calm intelligence of
her dark eyes as she took in everything around her, including the
unseemly mess Isa was attempting to pick up, were flawless. It was
this kind of perfection that Ever and the rest of the Fortress
staff kept pushing her towards. And she was failing at every
turn.
“
Pardon me,” Isa managed to mumble
as she shuffled the broken shards on the floor, anything to keep
her from having to make pleasant conversation. If this wasn’t the
most uncomely way to welcome another regent, Isa couldn’t imagine
what was. To her surprise, however, she felt the queen kneel beside
her and silently begin to gather the shards as well. The clinking
of the white-blue pieces quickly grew too loud for Isa to bear
though. She had to say something.
“
My maidservant wanted to visit
the market, so I let her go.”
“
And you chose to pass the time
trying to escape.”
When Isa looked at the queen,
Kartek wore a knowing look, and Isa felt her face redden. She
finally sighed, not yet able to enjoy her guest’s company, but
tired of being contrary. She already had enough annoyance stored up
for Ever to last the rest of the trip and longer.
“
He sealed the lock so that only
Norbert’s key or he, himself can open the door. I was trying-ouch!”
Bright red blood ran down Isa’s thumb, thanks to a particularly
sharp piece of porcelain. She reached down to her skirt to pinch
the throbbing cut, but Kartek was quicker. She grabbed Isa’s hand
and gently but firmly held her own index finger over the wound. To
Isa’s amazement, a soft pink glow emanated from between their hands
where they touched, and even though Isa knew the cut had been deep,
the pain lessened until it was gone. Kartek examined Isa’s thumb
before releasing her.
“
Everard probably told you, but my
gift is healing.”
“
No,” Isa said, her voice suddenly
tight. “He didn’t tell me.”
Without word, the queen gently
took Isa by the shoulders and led her to sit on the bed. “Your
power is being tainted by your frustration.”
“
You can sense that?”
Kartek smiled wryly.
“
I may have a different kind of
power, but I can sense yours. And your power is
troubled.”
Isa shrugged helplessly. “I am at
my wit’s end. I don’t know how to wield this power. I don’t know
how to be the queen Destin needs. I can’t ask Ever for help because
he’s never around. I mean, he trains with me, and I know he can see
it as well as I can, and yet, he says nothing. He refuses to talk
about it even when I bring it up.” Isa stopped, unsure of how much
she should share with this woman she barely knew. Although, she
reasoned, she’d already allowed her into their chambers, and Ever
followed the woman around like a drooling puppy. If something
happened, she could blame him. Besides, she really did want to talk
to someone about what was happening to her.
“
I thought the power was supposed
to be mine. I thought that as the queen, it was my right. But it
stagnates, and I cannot master it.” Isa paused. “Still, I could
live with that, if it weren’t for my eyes.”
“
Your eyes?”
She looked her guest directly this
time so Kartek could see the proof. “I think I’m dying, Kartek. My
eyes haven’t burned brightly in months. And if I am dying, I have
to wonder if it’s my fault, if I’m neglecting some part of my duty
that just can’t be neglected any longer.”
Minutes of silence passed after
she spoke. Kartek’s face was somber, her golden eyes distant as she
stared at the window. Isa stood restlessly and walked the full
length of their chambers, wondering why Ever couldn’t have locked
her somewhere else, like in a garden. The space was decently sized
for guest chambers. Not as large as the Fortress’s, perhaps, but
long enough to fit two rooms, the one they slept in with the bed,
bedside tables, a desk, its tall, blocky wardrobe, and a small,
round table with two spindly chairs. The other room was where
Cerise slept on her pallet. Isa had left that room unexplored, as
she knew from childhood that Cerise liked her privacy.
“
I wish I could help you.” Kartek
finally spoke in a husky voice.
“
Have you ever had problems with
your power?” Isa blurted out.
A small smile formed on the
queen’s cinnamon lips. “I did. They were different from yours,
but...” She chuckled a bit. “They had everyone in my palace
wondering what kind of joke the Maker was playing on them. I was
sixteen when I became queen. My parents were killed in a carriage
accident, and I was their only heir.” Kartek looked down at the
intricate blanket she sat upon and absently fingered the deep red
silk that had been embroidered into it. The pattern wove in and out
of itself to form desert roses, the kind that filled every corner
of the city streets beneath them.
“
My healing power had manifested
when I was twelve, which is late by my family’s standard. Most
queens’ power shows by the time they are ten.”
“
How did your family receive the
power?”
“
Our gift is not as old as that of
your Fortress, but it is old enough. My ancestor was a wealthy
woman. Jal was her name. She lived in a lovely home beside an oasis
in the middle of a wide desert. It was a grand house, one her
parents had paid to have built, purchasing the materials from many
distant lands. Great columns made up the face of the home, which
was all white plaster, and windows upon windows filled every wall.
Jal could look out upon the duned desert that surrounded her, and
the oasis which lay before her home. Dates grew wild, and her
garden prospered, despite the harsh, sandy winds that threatened to
tear the produce from the ground. People would come from far and
wide to visit her oasis, as water was scarce for miles around. Over
time, people began to stay and make their homes near hers, and she
became the caretaker of the little village that grew.
“
On the seventh year after the
village was planted, famine struck, and even the oasis became dry.
Jal had to let her servants go, though it pained her to lose them.
They were as family to her. She also encouraged people to leave the
town to find water elsewhere for their families. Some refused to
go, or rather, they could not go. Too old and frail to make the
journey to the next oasis, or too young and delicate. In order to
keep them fed, Jal began to sell her lavish possessions to passing
caravans in order to purchase food and water for the stragglers,
but soon, even all the possessions of her many-roomed home were
gone. All except for her most prized possession.