Authors: Brittany Fichter
Tags: #beauty, #love story, #princess, #fairy tale, #clean romance, #happy ending, #trilogy, #beauty and the beast, #retelling, #glass hill
Ever paused at the door and fixed
a withering look at Norbert. “I will have a word with you
later.”
Isa tried to throw the guard a
look of pity as she scurried after her husband. It wasn’t Norbert’s
fault she’d let the servant in.
As they walked down the halls, she
realized she was still quite curious though as to what he had been
up to all day. His visit with Kartek had obviously not lasted the
whole time that he was gone. Isa found herself nearly skipping to
keep up with Ever as he stormed towards the outdoor arena. She
would have to be quick, before other ears were near enough to hear
them.
“
What did you find out?” She
pitched her voice as low as she could. If she caught him off-guard,
maybe he might let her in and tell her the big secret he was
consumed by?
He waited so long to respond that
it didn’t seem as though he would answer at first, but just as she
was adding this to her list of grievances, he said, “I got Rafael
to agree to introduce me to the holy man tomorrow after the final
contest.” And for the first time that afternoon, Ever turned to
look at her with something not akin to anger or frustration.
Instead, he seemed to be measuring her response. “And I wouldn’t be
shocked if your brother ends up next in line for the Cobrien
throne.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Silver
Launce
tried to relax his taut muscles as he waited, imagining each one a
piece of leather that was strong and supple. Though the humongous
beast he sat astride seemed to obey well enough, every horse could
feel fear, and that was the last thing he wanted as they prepared
to climb the hill, which somehow looked twice as tall today as it
had the first day.
The decision to ride under his
second name had been, if he was honest, made on a whim. It wasn’t
as though he was doing anything wrong, he’d told himself as he’d
written his second name on the herald’s parchment. If through some
fluke, he won, everyone would all know who it was in the end. But
just this once, just for a few days, Launce would be riding as his
own man. Not the Destinian queen’s pathetic little brother, and not
The Commoner. The moment Launce had seen the beautiful red of the
copper suit shining up at him in the moonlight, he had known it was
meant for him and him alone. For just a short time, he would be the
mysterious copper-clad knight.
Blanchette might regret her choice
if she could see him now.
Not to say that keeping the secret
had been easy. In order to ensure himself the most privacy, he’d
slipped the herald a few coins so that his name would be last for
each contest. As soon as each event had finished, he had raced into
the edge of the forest, where he’d first hidden his new steed and
suit of armor, and wait for his next turn. No one had thought to
follow him, and it had given him time to marvel over the beauty of
the gifts he’d been given.
The armor was surprisingly light,
and to his relief, Launce was actually able to put it on himself.
He would have needed help from a servant with the armor Everard had
given him. The strange horse had made him a bit nervous. Launce was
certainly good with horses, but, he reminded himself, this was the
beast who had very possibly brutally trampled seven guards to
death.
After sending up a prayer to the
Maker, Launce watched from the edge of the wood until it was his
turn. His new beast had stamped around, impatient to let go and
run, but Launce delayed each time until the very last minute. For
the third event, he waited even longer, until the herald was
looking confused. One touch to the animal’s sides sent him shooting
out of the forest, straight for the hill.
Launce still couldn’t believe he
had actually made it even partially up the hill. During his
preparations, he had noticed that the horse’s shoes were not metal,
but glass, just like the lacy underpart of the saddle that he rode
upon. Have I lost my senses? he’d asked himself as he barreled
towards the great blue hill that stretched up as high as the
Fortress’s watchtower at home. And yet, somehow, the glass shoes
had held, and as he climbed, he realized that the princess was
sitting on top of the hill, looking as confounded as he was, and in
her hands she held a single golden apple.
As soon as he saw the apple, his
nerves had taken him, and the animal slowed its ascent. Launce had
cursed himself as the animal began to turn on its own accord, but
just before he shot back down, the princess had managed to toss him
the apple. In his fright, he’d nearly dropped it. Somehow, however,
it stayed in his hands, and he raced out of the arena just as
quickly as he’d come. Back to the Forest they went, and by the time
the rest of the riders had returned to the stable, he was back as
well, brushing Everard’s horse and wearing an expression that was
as cowardly as he could muster.
Only Randolph, the short, muscled
knight who had intervened on his behalf two days before, had given
him an inquisitive look. Launce hoped the foreign knight wouldn’t
dwell on his questions, whatever they were.
While Launce had told himself that
he was just being careful because of the strange power he was
dealing with, the more honest part of him had to admit that part of
his secrecy was purely due to vanity, and relishing the looks that
would be on his competitors’ faces when he brought down the rest of
the golden apples.
Well, he had to get the rest of
the golden apples first. After the events of last night, however,
he was almost sure he would win.
After the first contest, as
everyone in the stables had prepared for bed, Launce had noticed
another film of glassy dust all over the stables. The dust looked
different this time though. It was most decidedly silver in tint.
This had piqued his interest enough to lead him to spend another
night on the roof, and as a reward, he had received another horse,
gray this time, and a new set of armor. Only this armor was silver,
and the second horse was somehow even larger and fiercer than the
first. Other than that, everything had happened just as it had with
the first horse. Including the glass on the horse’s hooves and the
edging of the silver saddle.
Launce’s musings were interrupted
by the herald as he announced Launce’s singular second name. He
kicked the horse, for no gentle nudging would budge the beast, and
they shot forward, like an arrow loosed from a bow. As they sped
towards the stands, into the arena, Launce felt his heart drop into
his stomach. He had been right. The hill was twice as tall as it
had been the night before.
In his surprise, he jumped, and
the horse immediately began to slow. Panic filled him as he tried
to fix his mistake, kicking the horse once more and attempting to
turn his heading back to the center of the hill. His quick actions
seemed to work, for the horse’s glass shod hooves hit the steep
incline with a jarring crack, one that left a great web of white
lines shooting up the glass. He didn’t have time to see how bad the
glass had been broken, for they were already farther up the hill.
Launce’s body felt strange as they raced upwards, like he was
leaving his insides behind while his skin and bones continued to
lift off the ground at an alarming speed.
The speed still wasn’t great
enough, for as they neared the top, coming even closer to the
princess than he had the day before, the silver beast began to
slow. They weren’t going to make it. Again.
Anger and shame filled his breast
as the horse began to turn, despite his urgings, but before he
could berate himself for his mistake too much, an apple landed in
his lap. If the suit of armor would have allowed such movement, he
would have turned to look back at the princess, whose ability to
toss apples at moving targets was unmatched in any woman he knew.
And yet, it didn’t matter, he smiled to himself beneath the
helmet.
The second apple was
his.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Games We Play
“
Since our
secret rider is too shy to sup with us tonight,” Rafael’s voice
boomed down the length of the ridiculously long dining hall. “I
will simply have to give someone else the honor of dining with my
daughter. You.” He waved at an older gentleman two table lengths
down from the head of the table, where Launce sat with Everard and
Isa, near the king. “How far up the hill did you get?”
The poor man balked as all eyes
turned on him. “My horse refused to attempt it, Sire.”
The king harrumphed and pointed at
another competitor. This one was younger than the first, but still
looked to be a good fifteen years older than the princess, at
least. It was a man Launce already knew far too well for his
taste.
“
Absalom, how far did you
get?”
“
Two paces, Your
Highness.”
“
Fine, fine then. Come. You shall
sit with my daughter tonight.”
Launce wanted to make a face. Now
he would be forced to watch the horrid man sit across from him for
the entire length of the meal, which was only just being served. Of
course, he had little to complain about, when compared with the
truly unfortunate victim.
At least he wasn’t the one Absalom
would be attempting to woo.
Launce snuck a quick glance at the
princess, curious as to what she would think of the king’s choice
for her. Thus far, she’d seemed perfectly obedient, compliant down
to the letter of her father’s seemingly haphazard laws. But as she
waited to be greeted by her dinner partner, she seemed to have
paled. He couldn’t tell for sure, for her head was suddenly tilted
down as she studied her plate with the ferocity of a scholar.
Perhaps even her obedience had its limits. Launce almost smiled as
he watched her stab her dinner violently.
It wasn’t polite to stare, he
tried repeatedly to remind himself. And yet, he couldn’t keep
himself from it. It wasn’t as though he could distract himself by
listening to Isa and Everard talk. Despite Launce’s dislike for his
brother-in-law, even he had to admit that their disagreement,
whatever it concerned, was making life most uncomfortable for
everyone around them. Normally, Launce enjoyed baiting Isa to agree
with him, trying to get her to agree with him in acknowledging her
husband’s faults. But something was different this time. The
silence between them was tangible, so thick it was nearly
suffocating. Everard had stomped about all evening like a storm
cloud trying its best to make thunder, and Isa... Isa was far too
quiet. The look on her face was almost empty, and too close to the
surrender he had watched her sink into after her first fiancé had
left her on their wedding night.
Memories of that depression, the
deep hole she’d fallen into for months kindled a fire in Launce. It
was a dangerous fire, for when lit, it didn’t take into account how
strong Everard was, nor how he was the greatest soldier known to
the northern kingdoms. It simply knew that somehow, Everard had
caused his sister pain, and if Launce wasn’t careful, he would act
very foolishly upon that anger. No, it was far less dangerous to
watch the foreign knight torment the princess. At least that
situation he could have a bit of fun with.
The princess was stabbing at the
final pieces of roasted fowl on her plate as Absalom talked
incessantly. He was actually daring to whisper in her ear. Launce
gawked, first at the odd couple, then at the king, then back at the
odd couple. The princess was clearly uncomfortable, cringing when
certain words were too loud, and particularly when he made the s
sound. But the king was too busy to notice his daughter’s
discomfort, too busy boasting about the holy man’s great plan to
Everard, who wasn’t even pretending to listen. Launce suddenly had
a wicked idea. He hoped the princess would catch on.
“
You know, Sir Absalom,” Launce
spoke loudly. The princess and the knight both looked at him, her
expression grateful, and his vexed. “The way to a girl’s hand is
through her mother’s heart.”
“
Really? And pray tell, young man,
how did you come upon such enlightening wisdom?” Absalom’s voice
was practiced and smooth, but it had an edge to it.
Launce widened his eyes
innocently. “My brother-in-law.” He gestured to Everard two seats
over. “He always brings my mother a new baking spice when he
travels to other lands. Perhaps, if this mystery rider chooses not
to reveal himself, you might have a chance at wooing her mother.”
As he spoke, Launce kept an eye on the princess, and his relief,
she was already struggling to smother a smile. The knight, however,
was staring at him. Launce could see him weighing his options, and
in the end, it seemed that suspicion would win, until Absalom
turned and looked at the princess.
Launce nearly pitied the man. It
would be difficult for any male staring into those warm, chocolate
eyes to deny her sincerity. And with a start, Launce wondered if
the princess might not be a more practiced opponent than her father
in a battle of schemes and wits.
“
It’s true,” she told the knight
with large eyes. “However,” she turned to glance at her parents,
“my father is the one who would most need to be impressed.” She
gave an adorable giggle before leaning in to say in a voice Launce
could barely make out, “If you truly want to impress my father...”
She continued speaking, but Launce could no longer hear her. As
soon as she was done, Absalom pulled back in surprise, his thick
eyebrows knitting together as he looked back and forth from
princess to the king.