Enchanting Beauty (The Twisted Villain Chronicles Book 1)

by Bianca Mckay

  Agatha steeled herself for the end of the tale, but nothing she imagined, even the worst scenarios, compared to what Aribelle said next.

  "Whilst the townspeople laughed in my face, so caught up in their mirth, they were, that they missed the beasts moving in on them," Aribelle said with a sickening gleam in her eyes. "I didn't allow anyone to be killed; of course, we will need servants and slaves for the army. There was a peculiar group of common folks who did not scream and flee in terror as the beasts nipped at their heels. These few stood with their arms raised, covering themselves in a magical protective barrier. Imagine everyone's shock when the coven wept with relief to find several of their brothers and sisters alive after you declared them dead over thirty years ago."

  Agatha's stomach clenched uncomfortably. Goddess, they had kept all of this from her for nearly a year now. Not a single encounter with her coven hinted at the knowledge that they had uncovered. In her defense, those who lived outside of Jurot declined to follow Agatha to Jurot, to live under her rule of the coven in the safety of the forest. In a way, they were dead to the coven, having started their own and refusing to meet with Agatha, even after she decided that a war on the kingdoms would be foolish. Agatha had been hoping to speak to Aribelle about that, convincing her that forming an alliance with the surrounding kingdoms would be in their best interest, that peace was for the greater good.

  "The other witches and warlocks have been very helpful, you know. They believe justice for their kind is paramount. I agree, but apparently, you do not. Not anymore, at least. You've promised Vildaheim and Olthaire unlimited use and power over an army of beasts who answer to your commands. I will never allow that to happen," Aribelle snapped, her eyes flashing crimson as her full fury rose to the surface, her cool façade gone in less than a second. "You have declared that my people will fight alongside the same people who passed them on the streets as they were starving to death. There are several women who have come here and chosen the beast in order to never fall victim to another rapist or abuser, and yet you'd send them to work with their abusers. I will fight for a better life for my people, one that does not include them being used as a pawn in your quest for peace. Peace should never come at the cost of our people. We should pay the price of peace for our people. That is why there is not a soul here who remains loyal to you. They all know the truth now, how quickly you would give them away to the same kingdoms who threw them away. I will fight for them, for their right to be happy, to be who they are, be them magic wielder, beast, or human. And my way comes with sacrifice, with bloodshed, with heartache and pain, but it will never come with selling my people for another's army," Aribelle finished snarling.

  Agatha's instincts went rampant; everything in her said it was time to run. There were no allies here, no one who saw the vision of peace that she was striving so hard to bring into their reality. Goddess, where would she go? She had nothing, no one. If only she could get through to Aribelle. Her eyes darted between the door and Aribelle, whose features were turning more animalistic by the second. She had to try, and if she died while doing it, well, then so be it.

  "Aribelle, everything you said is the truth. But you must see how beneficial it would be if our people were not confined to Jurot, but free to move about any kingdom without fear of being attacked like I was. The witches will be hunted down and killed. I am doing this because it will allow the coven to barter and sell their wares in the kingdoms, it will allow families to live outside Jurot if that is what they wish. We give the kingdoms our weakest beasts, and in exchange, witches can walk the streets without fearing discovery," Agatha reasoned.

  Aribelle's form shifted more, white fur sprouting all over her body, her face forming into a snout as her voice came out sounding much more beast than woman.

  "That made no sense, and you must know this. You were not attacked for being a witch; you were attacked because you were surrounded by bullies who used you being a witch as an excuse to mock and abuse you. And if you were not paying attention before, I'll remind you that there are dozens of witches and warlocks living in the kingdoms, and none of them are actively trading flesh for status or favors. Magic is still sold, deals struck, and the best part is that every kingdom has witches and warlocks in their employ! All of this is about you. You want to control the coven, the beasts. You want to go back to being the witch you were once known as, but I will not allow this plot of yours to thicken any further," Aribelle said, pacing back and forth on the opposite side of the table from Agatha.

  Agatha patted her pockets nervously, praying to the Goddess that she would make it out of the cottage alive.

  "If the other witches would just join our coven, they would see that I want the same peace they do," Agatha said, exasperated.

  "They want their home back! They've no desire to live in the forest, not when there's the hope they could take Meyorn back," Aribelle snarled, hunching over as clawed paws replaced her hands.

  Agatha blanched at these words, her heart skipping a beat before taking off in a frantic rhythm.

  "They cannot. There are zealots in Meyorn. The same who overpowered us, they will not leave, and the witches will not win if they wish another war with them," Agatha whispered as a cold sweat broke out over her body.

  "I will lead them on this quest, I will fight for them to regain their homeland," Aribelle growled from the floor.

  "Then you will die with them, my beauty," Agatha said coldly, her demeanor switching in an instant.

  Aribelle lunged for her at the same time her hand raised from her pocket. Agatha gave Aribelle one last cold look as she coughed through the onslaught of sleeping powder that she blew directly up Aribelle’s snout, then turned and fled from the cottage. The momentary distraction was exactly what Agatha needed, the extra seconds giving her enough time to scramble up a tree, just above Aribelle's snapping jaws, ropes of saliva hanging from her fangs. The sleeping powder would take longer to render Aribelle unconscious, but Agatha was confident it would only be a matter of minutes that she would need to wait. Of course, there was the minor problem of how quickly the powder could wear off while Aribelle was in her beast form, but an idea had already formed in Agatha's mind. If it worked, Agatha would regain control over both the beasts and the coven, and an army of magic and beasts would fetch her anything she could ever desire.

  Five long minutes later, which were full of snarls and howls of an enraged Aribelle, Agatha jumped down from her perch on the tree. She patted Aribelle's flank, muttering a soft goodbye.

  "I still care for you, my beauty, but I cannot let you take all of this away from me. Even if that means losing you forever."

  Agatha moved through the forest swiftly, her ears perked for any noise of a pursuer, but all remained quiet even after she crossed the border into Vildaheim. It took her several more tense hours of looking over her shoulder constantly before she reached Cypal, the capital of Vildaheim. When the expansive palace grounds came into view, Agatha wanted to drop to the ground and sob in relief, but she tossed her shoulders back and marched forward with her head held high.

  Guards lined the single street in Cypal, which lead straight to the palace gates. They remained stoic, staring forward, still as statues as she walked up to the gates.

  "State your name and your business," A squat, plump, balding man barked from the other side of the gates.

  "I am Agatha Crowle, The Enchantress of Jurot, here to see King Thaddeus, Ruler of Vildaheim," Agatha said haughtily, as though the king should be expecting her at any moment.

  The balding man turned to another guard and whispered something that sent the other guard running towards the palace. Agatha waited patiently, though she could not stop herself from repeatedly looking over her shoulder for an assailant. Aribelle would not be pleased when she woke from the sleeping powder. Agatha would not be surprised to learn that Aribelle was marching the beasts through the forest right this moment, tracking her movements. The thought sent an unbidden shiver up her spine. Aribelle had been foo
ling her for close to a year now, which worried Agatha because her magic should have been enough to tame the fury Aribelle was cursed with. Several thoughts ran through her mind, each one worse than the last. What if all of the beasts grew immune to her magic? What if she could never regain control of Jurot? What if the invasion of the zealots in Meyorn was won by the witches and warlocks?

  "His Majesty will speak with you in the throne room," The squat man barked loudly as the gates swung open just enough for Agatha to squeeze through.

  Two guards immediately marched behind her, much to her annoyance.

  "I am not in need of an escort," Agatha said, waving her hands in a shooing motion.

  The guards did not budge but continued to stare straight above her head. Agatha sighed and ascended the palace steps. The heavy gold-painted doors opened up to a large marble foyer, with stone pillars lining the walkway. There were framed oil paintings on the walls, suits of armor on either side of the gold-trimmed burgundy rug that ran the length of the hall. Another set of golden doors and Agatha was inside of the throne room, a galley on either side for when court was being held. At the end of the room sat three thrones, one larger than the other two; all were dark blue, trimmed with gold thread, highbacked with a silk-covered cushion. The two smaller thrones sat to the left of King Thaddeus' throne, which was occupied by the king himself, looking vexed at her unannounced visit.

  "What is it, Agatha?" King Thaddeus snapped impatiently.

  "My apologies, Your Majesty. It was not my intent to end your nightly ritual of thrusting into one of your many servants," Agatha snapped.

  King Thaddeus leaned forward on his throne; his expression thunderous.

  "Tell me why you are here before I lose my patience, witch," He demanded.

  "I lost control of Aribelle," Agatha admitted reluctantly, carrying on quickly when Thaddeus looked like he may jump from the dais to throttle her. "But I know how we can get her back under control, but I will have need of your son."

  King Thaddeus considered her for a long moment; his jaw clenched as anger burned in his eyes before he spoke at last.

  "Tell me about this plan, witch, and make it quick. I was indeed in the midst of my nightly ritual before you interrupted."

  Four: Fool’s Errand

  “Will I ever marry a prince like in the storybooks, Momma?”

  “Should you ever encounter a prince, run far away, my beauty, for he has come to rip out your heart.”

  "I cannot believe father sent us on this ridiculous errand," Druas griped next to his brother.

  Thamyris adjusted himself on his saddle, giving his younger sibling a forced reproachful look.

  "Come now, Dru. a quest for true love is the noblest of all," Thamyris jested.

  Dru scoffed, his jaw clenching as he looked out at the hills that dotted the landscape of Olthaire as far as his eyes could see. Thamyris silently agreed with his brother, though he would never admit aloud. King Thaddeus had indeed sent his sons on a fool's errand. They were to trick a beast in the small kingdom of Jurot into drinking a lover's potion. If that hadn't been the most ridiculous plan Thamyris had ever heard! Both brothers had even chuckled in the face of their king before realizing that he was completely serious.

  "Why not just take the kingdom by force?" Dru had asked their father incredulously.

  "It cannot be done, for reasons I will not explain to you," King Thaddeus had snapped.

  Thamyris had stood silent, observing his father's stiff stance, slightly twitching eyes, and knew immediately that whatever beast Dru was being sent to woo, spooked King Thaddeus. This quest was dangerous, but their father would not give Dru anything more than a curt, 'It must be done!".

  That was how Thamyris ended up beside his brother, a guard for the youngest prince of the kingdom of Vildaheim. He would trust no one else to protect and shield his brother from the legendary haunted woods and any beasts that sought to harm him there. Dru had no training in swordplay, no knowledge of the backstabbing that occurred in the inner courts; he had no idea the dangers that awaited him outside of the palace library, which was where Dru spent the majority of his time. Thamyris teased his brother mercilessly over his hermit-like existence, but he was secretly glad that his brother could always be found in solitary silence, his nose in a book. Dru did not have the spine or the stomach for a leadership role and would manage poorly if he was faced with the lies, schemes, and endless trade talks that came with court life. Dru would do his best to please everyone and be fair in all his endeavors, whereas Thamyris knew that only the most cunning and ruthless lived long enough to build thriving kingdoms that could withstand the repeated plots to tear them down.

  "This is not a quest for true love, Thame," Dru said with a shake of his head. "This is trickery, underhandedness. Have you thought at all about the woman we are enchanting? How heartbroken she will be whenever she discovers our pairing is just a ruse?"

  Thamyris barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes upward.

  "Gods above, Dru, just a week ago, you suggested we take Jurot by force, which may have resulted in this beast's death. Beast, Dru. This woman is a beast, not a human woman who you are tricking into your bed for a night," Thame replied.

  "I would never!" Dru shouted in outrage, turning on his saddle to glare at Thame.

  "I'm just pointing out that this beast is obviously a threat to Vildaheim, not an innocent woman, or we wouldn't be enchanting anyone," Thame said through his peals of laughter.

  Dru visibly paled, gulping loudly as he averted his gaze from Thame's all too observant eyes.

  "What is it, my brother?" Thame asked, instantly alert and scanning their surroundings for a threat.

  When Dru did not answer but kept his eyes glued on something Thame could not see, Thame dismounted, brandishing his sword, the steel whistling through the air as he released it from its sheath on his back. Thame slapped the flank of both horses, sending them galloping away from the threat that had rendered his little brother speechless. Turning in a full circle, his sword held firmly in front of him, Thame stood tensed and ready for a fight.

  The clopping of galloping hooves sounded behind Thame, but he didn't turn around, knowing it was Dru coming back to tell him what Thame had already figured out.

  "Brother, I saw nothing, I was ashamed of my emotions," Dru confessed quietly in an apologetic tone behind him.

  Thame remained frozen in his battle stance, wanting to shake his brother for not speaking up, but he had never been able to stay angry with Dru.

  "Tell me, little brother, do I look as stupid as I feel?" Thame asked curiously.

  "You do look a bit idiotic, especially now that you are still standing like that after I confirmed there's no one ambushing us on our journey," Dru said with a snort.

  "I don't know, this piece of dry grass just twitched in my direction. A battle may erupt at any moment now. Stay back, brother, and do not interfere if it should best me," Thame shouted dramatically.

  It was silent for all of three seconds before Dru's uproarious laughter sounded behind Thame. Chuckling along with his brother, Thame hoisted himself upon his saddled, his white stallion huffing through his nose, which sounded much like an exasperated snort.

  "We will reach the village of Groden within the hour," Thame said once the laughter faded. "As we ride, you will tell me of these shameful emotions, and I will council you like a good brother."

  Dru groaned long and loud.

  "Your council usually ends with you telling me all things can be solved by--"

  "Burying yourself in a woman's heat. This is true, little brother, and one day you will experience the magic that is a woman's body and no longer will you worship the gods," Thame interrupted.

  "I suppose you think I will convert to worshipping women, in the gods' steed?" Dru asked dryly.

  Thame chuckled softly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

  "Of course not. I think you will begin to worship my excellent advice," Thame said with a grin. "Ah, what a marvelou
s day it will be when you come to realize that I am wise in all things."

  Thame sighed wistfully, causing Dru to snort at his antics. Thame looked to his little brother as Dru sighed heavily, averting his gaze again.

  "I'm afraid," Dru mumbled.

  Thame waited, but after a long minute, it seemed Dru was not going to be forthcoming with the rest.

  "You will have to tell me what it is you fear, so that I may have the pleasure of killing it," Thame said, baring his teeth.

  "It's everything about this quest," Dru huffed, running his fingers through his hair. "I mean, we don't know anything about literally anything! It doesn't seem strange to you that the details were scarce? We know that the forest is haunted, or dangerous, or whatever. We know that there is a beast-woman named Aribelle, whom I need to trick into drinking a lover's draught and continue to drug her until we receive further instructions. I am petrified of the forest, I mean I have no training, not a single clue how to defend myself, only what I've read on the theory and maneuvers. If we are attacked, which is a definite possibility, what am I to do, other than reciting a paper on self-defense in the hopes that it may put my assailant to sleep?"

  Thame opened his mouth, his eyes wide at his brother's rant, but Dru carried on as though he could not stop himself from spewing every misgiving he had about their quest.

  "And what of this, Aribelle? Is she a hundred-year-old hag who will want to press her toothless, wrinkled mouth to mine every time I am in reach of her? What if she expects me to bed her? My first time laying with a woman and of all people, it could very well be a brittle boned beast whose horns snap off at the first thrust of my--"

  "Alright, calm down, brother, you paint a disturbing image," Thame yelled, biting his tongue as his eyes danced with mirth. "I will lay down my life for you if the occasion arises, this I do swear. As for the rest, we will deal with any problems as they come. We cannot know anything about this Aribelle until we find her, and I will send word to father the moment we do. Hopefully, all of this will be settled, and we can get away from her before there is any snapping of horns to be had."