Before Beauty

by Brittany Fichter

  The dark, wet stones in the walls and the floors began to slowly regain their white marble swirls, and dust and dirt no longer covered every surface.

  The gradual lifting of the curse was undeniable, however, the day Ever heard a shriek from Isa’s room. A strange dread filled him as he did his best to race towards her, pushing himself so fast he nearly tripped down the stairs of the tower. After a long and painful trek down many halls, he arrived, breathless, to find Isa’s door open. Rushing in, he stopped short to see Isa and one of the servant women laughing and embracing, happy tears running down their faces. The servant was the first to spot him, and pulling herself from Isa’s embrace, bowed low.

  “Your Highness!”

  Ever looked in shock from one woman to the other.

  “Ever!” Isa’s smile was brighter than any he’d ever seen on her face. She was glowing with elation. “This is Cerise! She and I were good friends when we were children!” Then, after pulling her friend back into another hug, Isa asked him, “But how can it be? What brought her back?”

  It took all of Ever’s self-control to attempt an even answer. “Your strength must be growing.”

  Isa’s face changed to one of amazement. “I have strength? You mean, the kind that you do?”

  “It would seem so,” was all Ever could say before turning and storming out of the room. He could see the confusion in Isa’s eyes at his hasty and rather rude departure, but as he walked back down the hall, he could hear the two women laughing and talking again.

  Ever knew he should be happy. He had been right all along. Isa truly was the key to freeing the Fortress from its curse. But this was all wrong. Her power was supposed to include healing him.

  He had noticed the servants’ shadows growing thicker in the recent weeks, and there were other signs like the return of the birds and the green of the gardens. But as the Fortress was loosed from the darkness that had held it captive and alone for the last year, Ever continued to grow weaker.

  He tried to understand what had gone wrong. He had heard Isa talking to the Fortress when she thought he couldn’t hear her, which meant she had discovered its presence unaided, the presence that had abandoned him. It was a presence very few people could sense. To his knowledge, not even King Rodrigue had ever been able to feel it as she seemed to. She already had a strength greater than many of the kings, it appeared, and she wasn’t even aware of it. She was healing everyone and everything around her without effort. Everything but him.

  For the first time in a long time, Ever wondered if his plan would truly work. Even if he did marry her, would she be able to heal him? The Fortress was indeed preparing her for something great, but it seemed to be excluding him completely. Anger gathered in the pit of Ever’s stomach.

  The Fortress had betrayed him, and worse, had brought in a stranger to replace him. Even more cruel, the woman it had brought was the one woman in the world he had ever found irresistible. This anger made Ever even more determined to carry out his plan. She would soon be ready to become a keeper of the Fortress. He would marry her, she would heal him, and all would be restored. His duty would go on. It just had to.

  Preparing for supper was difficult for Ever that night. Resentment for Isa filled his heart as he shuffled down the hall to escort her to the dining hall. And yet, when Isa answered his knock that night, he felt his breath leave him.

  She had always been lovely, but tonight, she looked every part a princess. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and her cheeks were faintly flushed with color. The joy in her smile was dazzling. For the first time, she no longer looked like a stranger in her own body, a terrified doe ready to duck at the first sign of danger. Tonight, she stood as erectly as her ankle would allow her, and she smiled with confidence. It was perhaps the confidence that allowed all the rest to shine. And as much as Ever resented her growing power, he couldn’t help but gawk at the young woman who stood before him now.

  For once, Isa didn’t stop talking that night. She had endless questions about what had happened with Cerise, and Ever found himself at a loss for words, something he wasn’t accustomed to.

  He kept getting lost in his own thoughts as he stared at her. Confusion stirred within him, feelings he couldn’t put a name to. Years of nothing but war and his father’s ever watchful eye had kept his eyes averted from women, and now it was as if he’d never seen one before. His bitterness and admiration for her, and the guilt for how he was using her, all warred within him.

  “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” Isa wore a bemused smile.

  Ever smiled politely in return. “I apologize. I’ve had much on my mind today.”

  “Why are you doing that?” She suddenly leaned forward and rested her chin on her right fist.

  “Doing what?”

  “Treating me differently, like a lady?”

  Because he’d made it very clear in the beginning that she was his servant, a captive in this hell of a prison. Ever paused before answering. It was hard for him to find words for the torrents of emotions and desires that suddenly raged inside of him, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to.

  “Isa, I know I wasn’t the perfect gentleman when you arrived, far from it.” He stood stiffly and went to stare into the night sky through the great window behind her. “I used to think I knew what I was doing at all times. Rules and regulations made sense. You do what you’re told and the world moves along rightly. But this,” he gestured at the dining hall with a sweep of his arm, “I am not accustomed to this kind of living. I don’t have rules to follow, and I don’t have words to speak.

  “I’m trying.” He turned pleading eyes upon her, begging her silently for forgiveness for a sin she didn’t know he was committing even now as he spoke. “I want to be a good man, but sometimes I fear there’s not enough grace in the world to make me into who I should truly be.”

  Isa stared at him silently. How he wanted to know what she was thinking behind those eyes. Would she be able to forgive him if she found out how he was trying to use her?

  “I think you are a good man.” Her voice was nearly inaudible. “I just think…” Then, as if she suddenly remembered his station, she shook her head and lowered her eyes to the floor. “I am sorry. It’s not my place to judge.”

  “No, I want to hear.” Ever returned to the table.

  “I think,” Isa spoke slowly, “that you’ve just lost your way. I think you’ve forgotten the simple goodness of this place, the goodness you knew as a child. Not that I know much of war, but it seems like your father’s pursuit of it, if I may say so, was more than a simple desire to protect Destin. Sometimes we can get so caught up in protecting ourselves that we forget to see what’s truly before us.”

  A thoughtful look filled Isa’s eyes as she stared into the fireplace. “But the longer I’m in this place, the more I’m convinced the Fortress is more than capable of protecting itself. Instead, I feel as if it is more concerned with my heart than my head.”

  She smiled at him again, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. If only she knew what he had been through. But then, perhaps he didn’t want her to. He had given her enough loss without grieving her more. Instead, he asked her to dance.

  “Of course.” she smiled up at him with that sweet innocence that sent his heart pounding in his ears.

  Slowly, they shuffled out to the dance floor. Though they’d been going through the motions for months, Ever felt something different tonight as he took Isa’s crooked hand in one of his own and her waist in the other. Frustration inside him howled as he realized the hand that held hers looked just as thin and frail beneath the glove as the girl’s did. Likewise, the hunch in his back put them eye to eye. Her good hand held his left arm, and if it hadn’t been for all his clothes, could have nearly encircled it.

  The familiar shame filled him as he recalled how far he’d fallen. Just a year ago, his arm had been solid and four times as large as it was now. Isa was tall for a woman, but he would have still
stood a good three inches above her. A year ago, he would have been able to protect this beautiful creature from anything that threatened to harm her. Now, she was probably just as capable of protecting herself, if not more.

  He wondered if there was any possibility that she could ever see him not as a captor or a king, but as a man. Could she ever respect him? Could she look up to him, trust him to keep her safe? Could she desire him?

  Even as they danced, the warmth of her skin radiated through his gloves, and suddenly, the correct posture the dance commanded wasn’t close enough. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ever remembered his tutors’ instructions about proper distances between a man and a woman, and it took all his willpower to adhere to them.

  As the dance came to an end, however, he realized with panic that she was going to leave him, as she did every night. When the music died, instead of immediately turning back to her chambers, however, Isa seemed to suddenly be struggling as he was.

  Without thinking, he leaned forward slowly.

  Her breath was uneven as their faces touched. She lifted her chin just a little, and for a moment, his lips rested on hers.

  Slowly, to his disappointment, Isa pulled away. Her eyes pierced his, full of fear. Bit by bit, her fingers loosed themselves from his own, and before he knew it, she had fallen back a step. Then two. Then, without a word, she was gone.

  As Ever walked back to the Tower of Annals, guilt crashed over him. Here he was, falling in love with her, and yet, as Garin had pointed out, he was pushing her towards a cliff from which there was no return. She clearly wasn’t ready for him. But he was dying. He would have to continue with the plan.

  Despite his determination to carry out his schemes, Ever was haunted that night by those midnight blue eyes. Large and frightened, they watched him as they had for all his life. And in his sleep, Ever couldn’t help but weep.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ironclad Dreams

  “You seem unhappy.”

  Isa jumped a little as the prince sat down beside her on the stone bench. Usually, she heard his approach by the dragging of his feet, but she had been distracted this morning. She twirled the rose in her hands again, wondering how much the prince would really like to hear what was on her mind.

  Not that he had been unkind to her as of late. In fact, he’d been more chivalrous than ever. In the week following their near kiss, however, she had found herself avoiding him. She could see that it hurt him, but she really was at a loss for what to do.

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted him to kiss her. Every muscle in her body had wanted nothing more than to meet his lips on the balcony that night. But it frightened her that things could change so quickly. He had gone from being the evil prince who had ruined her life thrice, to a sweet companion whose company she found herself craving increasingly. What would her family say?

  It was this sentiment that had brought her out here today. She couldn’t bring herself to dance, but being outside made her feel a bit closer to home, now that the days were warmer and the sun shined more often. If she closed her eyes and focused on the warmth of the sunbeams, she could sometimes pretend she was back in her parents’ garden, sitting on the little stone wall behind the house.

  She could almost hear her mother’s tools scraping in the garden dirt, and Megane running around after the chickens. She wished so much that she could ask her mother for advice. Was this right? Were her feelings right? Isa imagined her mother’s responses, but she shied away from imagining what her father or Launce might say.

  “Well…” Everard’s voice brought her back to the present. He’d dropped his eyes to the ground and began to stand again. “I suppose if you–”

  But Isa grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I was just thinking about my family.” She sighed as he settled in and looked at her expectantly. His eyes were serious, standing out from his haggard face even more than usual in the early spring sunlight that filtered through the clouds. She half expected him to scoff or get angry, but instead, he simply nodded, so she continued.

  “I just wish I could tell them I’m safe. But even more than that,” she paused shyly before finishing in a whisper, “that I’m happy.”

  The prince stared at her for a moment before the apprehension melted from his face, and he was suddenly left beaming. The expression looked a bit strange in the gaunt, ashen face, but it wasn’t unpleasant either. Isa decided that she rather like it.

  “I think that can be arranged. Is there a token, something you could send with a letter so that they would know it was from you? I’m afraid your father will trust little that I send.”

  Isa laughed and nodded. “I’ll send this rose.” Touching its petals, she added, “It’s just about to bloom.”

  Everard stood up again, still smiling. “I will send Garin since your father knows him. Perhaps he will believe the words of an old friend.”

  “Is he human again?” Isa suddenly sat on the edge of her seat, thrilled with the idea of seeing another familiar face. Since Cerise had regained her body, more servants had been turning every day, but they were mostly the ones tending to her.

  Everard gave her an even bigger grin, suddenly looking a bit boyish. “I woke up this morning to find him hovering over my pallet like a mother hen. Although,” he paused, “I’m not entirely sure he was ever human to begin with.”

  The joy in Everard’s voice was infectious, and Isa found herself suddenly feeling lighthearted. Perhaps she would dance this morning after all.

  Her good mood lasted throughout the remainder of the day and into the evening. Supper was more animated than usual as well, as Everard kept her laughing with stories from when he was a small boy. Even dancing was less awkward. He didn’t try to kiss her again, and Isa nearly allowed herself to enjoy the warmth of his arms.

  When she laid down in bed that evening, as the servants scurried around to prepare her bedchamber for the chill of the night, Isa imagined how her family would react to Garin’s message. Her mother would cry, and Megane would snatch the rose up to dry and save it. Launce would let out a few insolent remarks to the Fortress steward, and Ansel, even more. But even with all the carrying on, Isa knew the rose would mean hope for them where there had been none before.

  As the servants finished their tasks, and Isa began to drift off, she heard thunder in the distance. It grew closer as her eyelids grew heavy.

  “Look at her.”

  Startled, Isa’s eyes flew open and she tried to sit up, searching in the darkness. Her fire was out and her room had grown cold, which was strange. The servants never let her fire go out.

  “Cerise?” she called out nervously. But Cerise didn’t answer.

  Instead, the strange woman’s voice sounded again in the night. “Really, Captain, do you think this is necessary? After all, she doesn’t know us. It seems a bit unfair.” The stranger didn’t sound sorry though.

  “We never promised to play fair.” This time, it was a man’s voice, not as deep as Everard’s, but menacing.

  As he spoke, a cry of a large bird sounded above Isa, and she could feel air whoosh past her as it swooped down, narrowly missing her head. As she tried to duck, Isa realized she was no longer lying in her bed, but was tied to a chair instead. Again, the beast dove at her, and this time, it hit her ear. Isa felt a sharp pain, followed by a warm trickle that rolled down her neck. As she gasped, trying to see straight through the pain and thick blackness, she thought she could make out shape of some sort, two shadows, perhaps.

  “Captain, you will have her dead in five minutes if you keep this up. Let me handle this,” the woman said impatiently. Without another word, the man disappeared, and only the woman’s silhouette remained. The stranger pulled up another chair and placed it across from where Isa sat, straddling it and resting her arms on the chair’s back.

  As her eyes adjusted, Isa could see that the woman was very handsome, but she immediately sensed that this woman was also was very,
very dangerous.

  Her slick black hair was pulled back tightly into a knot, and her dress was slit up both sides so that long legs wrapped in men’s trousers could stick out. Her unladylike position on the chair and the muscles that ran up and down her bared arms made Isa feel even more frightened.

  Full lips curved into a strange smile as Isa finally met her gaze. The woman’s green eyes were bright, and would have been beautiful if they hadn’t been so threatening. It was only then that Isa realized the light that filled the room was coming from those eyes. They were filled with rings of golden flame.

  “I apologize for the inconvenience,” the woman gestured to Isa’s bonds, “but I needed to talk with you, and I knew you would run before I had the chance to explain myself. The least you can do is listen to me, woman to woman. Then I will be gone, I promise.”

  Isa sat, petrified. Who was this terrifying creature, and where had they brought her? For she surely wasn’t in her room any longer. She tried to open her mouth to scream for Everard, Garin, the servants, anyone who would hear her, but nothing came out.

  “See now? This is why I had to bind you.” The woman shook her head. “Since you obviously can’t escape, and no one has heard you, you might as well listen to what I have to say.”

  Isa considered this that for a moment before ceasing to struggle against her ropes. The woman had a point. Isa was going nowhere fast. She had no choice but to listen. Maybe after the woman spoke, she would simply leave, and Isa would be returned to the Fortress somehow.

  “I have been watching your dreams,” the woman began.

  Isa wondered how that was even possible.

  “You were wise when you first arrived here, back when you hated him, feared him with everything in you.” She gave Isa a coy smile and wagged her finger. “But just as all women are with him, you were drawn in. Oh yes,” she chuckled at Isa’s expression, “I’ve felt the draw, too. He is a fine specimen of a man-or was, at least. The draw was even stronger before he wasted away so. You should have seen him in his prime!” She pursed her lips then smiled for a moment before going on. “But no matter what he says or does, you are going to always be his captive.”