Enchant: Beauty and the Beast Retold

by Demelza Carlton

  But not Vardan's. Oh, he admitted it was possible. But he'd searched the casket of jewels twice, and found nothing but the pretty purple stones. Of all the jewels in his cellar, they were perhaps the least valuable of the lot. Why choose that when she could have had gold or rubies or diamonds?

  Unless she'd just taken something at random to prove to someone else that she'd found the lost ships' cargo. That certainly fitted with her arriving here by magical means. She must have had help from someone.

  Yet he'd lifted her from the snow himself – he'd felt the weight of water in her clothes, and smelled the salt from the sea. He didn't doubt her sincerity now when she spoke of near drowning.

  How, then, was she here? And why?

  Vardan wanted to pound his fist on the table and demand answers, but the girl had evidently been through quite an ordeal. That she could tell him anything at all was a miracle in itself. So instead, he forced himself to soften his tone. "And you know nothing of who pulled you from the water, and brought you to my home?"

  She paused to swallow more wine. "No, your Highness. I saw no one."

  Not even when she'd arrived here, as his invisible servants had frightened her so much she'd fainted. For all her strength of character, he must remember that she'd not long since awoken from a swoon. She was as delicate as the first spring flowers that ventured through the melting snow. Precious. In need of protection.

  His heart stuttered in his chest as her gaze met his. Unflinching. Without horror or fear. Merely...curiosity, he decided. Perhaps it took more to satisfy her than he'd realised.

  "Ask it," he suggested.

  Her eyes widened. "Ask what?"

  "The question dancing on the tip of your tongue. The one burning in your mind. Ask it," he said.

  "It has occurred to me that while I have eaten this pie, you have not touched it. Is that a part of your curse? That you cannot eat, or enjoy food?"

  Vardan shook his head. "No."

  "Then is it poisoned?"

  Lady or no, Belle had far more knowledge of the criminal classes and political intrigue than any respectable woman should have. What kind of woman suspected her food might be poisoned?

  "No." He rose from his chair, marched down the length of the table and broke off a piece of the pie. He ate the whole slice while he stood before her, then washed it down with a goblet of wine poured from the same flagon Greta had used to fill her cup. Not once did his eyes leave hers. Finally, he swallowed and said, "You are safe here, Lady Belle. My servants are loyal and would not poison my food, or yours, and I will not hurt you. You have my word of honour."

  For a long moment, her eyes stared into his, reading his soul, or so it felt. "Are you truly as honourable as you say, Vardan?"

  He felt the peculiar urge to take the girl in his arms and kiss her. But that would hardly be honourable. Perhaps another time, when she knew him better and had learned to trust him. And they had found a way to break the curse. Then he might be permitted to kiss her without her recoiling in horror. "I hope so," he said fervently, both in answer to her and his own unspoken desires.

  SEVENTEEN

  Later that night, Zuleika tossed and turned in her bed, knowing the prince hadn't believed her vague description of how she'd found herself in the water and then in the snow. She'd mentioned her father's ship, though, which had seemed to satisfy him, at least a little. When she told him the jewel casket she'd taken from his storeroom contained amethysts her father had bought for her, he'd grown suspicious. Now, she found it hard not to laugh. He'd believed the part about her being aboard a ship, which was a lie, but when faced with the truth that the jewels were hers, he didn't believe her. Men made so little sense.

  She'd begun to discern expressions in that ghastly face of his, too, almost as if he was human. Well, he probably was still human, despite whatever the jealous witch had changed him into. Why change him into some sort of hybrid between beast and man, anyway? A toad or a squirrel would have been fine, and much easier. And why curse his household along with him? That part made no sense at all. Surely she had not tried to seduce them in addition to their master.

  Zuleika shook her head. She had stumbled upon the strangest, magical mystery she had ever encountered. Her good sense told her to find some bare earth or rock tomorrow and cast a portal home to her father, to tell him she'd found his cargo.

  Except...she still didn't know how it had ended up here, nor how she'd transport it home. Vardan hadn't told her everything, either, she realised. He kept his secrets, just as she kept hers.

  Perhaps if she toured the island with him, as he'd planned, she could persuade him to drop his guard and tell her the full story. Maybe even enough to allow her to lift his curse...

  Not by falling in love with him, of course. She had more powerful means at her disposal that he knew nothing about, and she wanted to keep it that way. For all his trepidation against antagonising the other witch, Zuleika had little to fear from her. She was a fully-fledged enchantress who conquered djinn, for goodness' sake. A witch who wasted her power on complicated curses when simple ones would do would be no match for Zuleika.

  If she defeated the witch and restored the prince and his household to their former state, he might be so grateful that he'd help her bring her father's merchandise home. Now that would be worth the delay.

  With that settled, Zuleika drifted off to sleep.

  EIGHTEEN

  A persistent tapping on the door woke Zuleika. With no windows in the room, it was difficult to tell the time. If it was Vardan trying to enter, he could tap until his fingers fell off. He spoke of honour and of being nothing like his brother, but words were cheap. When a man sole into a girl's chamber by night to have his way with her, then he showed his true mettle. Zuleika had locked and warded the door, so the only way in was if she allowed him entrance.

  "Who is it?" she asked.

  "It's Inga and Greta, m'lady. We brought your breakfast and fresh clothes for your journey."

  Zuleika thought she recognised the voice. "Did you find me in the snow?"

  "That was me, m'lady. I needed help to carry you in, before I shooed the menfolk out so I could take off your wet things. Your beautiful dress was ruined by the water, so we brought you something new."

  Zuleika climbed out of bed and unbarred the door. She blinked for a moment as the corridor outside appeared empty, before she remembered the curse. "I can't see you, but you're still here, right?"

  "Yes, my lady," the voice said, somewhere to Zuleika's left. Right above the floating breakfast tray. "You need not fear us. We're just ordinary women, the same as those in your household. You can't see us, what with the curse and all, but we'll make extra noise so you can hear us, and if you see things floating, that's because we're carrying them."

  Zuleika stepped aside to let the tray, and presumably the woman carrying it, into the room. A second set of steps shuffled in behind the first woman.

  "I have your clothes, my lady," a nervous voice said.

  Unlike the breakfast tray, Zuleika couldn't see any clothes. "Where?" she asked.

  "I'm carrying them in my arms, my lady. I will lay them out, so you can see them." True to her word, the girl shuffled over to the bed, where a blue gown materialised from thin air as it spread across the chest. "It's the master's favourite colour, my lady. He won't be able to take his eyes off you when you wear this."

  Zuleika suppressed an unladylike snort. "You expect me to seduce your prince to break the curse? I'm not sure it works like that."

  "But if he falls in love with you, and he won't be able to help himself, he will be the most charming prince imaginable. One you won't be able to help but fall in love with," the girl said dreamily.

  "Greta's head is turned at the thought of all this romance, but she is right about the master. He is charming when he wants to be, and a good man, besides. We know why the witch cursed us as well as him. She knew we'd do everything humanly possible to help him break the curse. There are far worse men in this
world than Prince Vardan, my lady. He is a rose among thorns, and no mistake." The older woman set the breakfast tray on the table beside the bed, as if to emphasise her point.

  "You both believe I can break this curse," Zuleika marvelled. "What if the king is wrong, and the witch left no such loophole to break the spell? What then?"

  The bed creaked as a depression appeared in the mattress, as though a heavy weight had settled on the edge. "Then my heart will break long before the master's. I have buried two children since the affliction turned us invisible. Two children whose faces I never saw, between birth and death. What fate is that for a child, to never see his mother's face, to never see a single smile?" Inga's voice shook with unseen tears. "My lady, I love the master as if he were my own son, and if bringing him happiness would let me see the face of my children once more, I would do anything. I beg you, if there is even the smallest kernel of compassion in you, help the master to break the curse."

  A tear slipped down Zuleika's cheek. She could not refuse a mother's heartfelt plea. "I shall do whatever I can to help," she promised the woman.

  Plump hands seized Zuleika's. "Thank you, my lady. And in return, I will help you. When the master sees you today, you will look like a queen."

  "A princess, at best," Zuleika corrected. "You are not trying to tempt the king."

  "A queen," Inga repeated firmly. "We want you to look too good for the master, so that he tries his hardest to win your heart. If you had only seen him before the curse, you would understand why a witch would want him for herself. He was the handsomest prince ever born. Why, even the king himself was jealous of him."

  Zuleika reached for her loaf of bread and nibbled on the end. "Very well. Where do we start?"

  "With the queen's jewels."

  Zuleika choked. "The king's mother is here?"

  Inga laughed, and even Greta tittered.

  "No, my lady. Not Queen Katerina. The master's grandmother, Dowager Queen Margareta. This was her chamber, and the gown you wore to dinner last night was first worn by Her Majesty at her son's coronation. I can show you the coronation tapestry, if you like. She sewed it herself, so it shows the detail of the dress quite clearly."

  Last night she had dressed like a queen. No wonder Vardan had stared at her so. Wearing his grandmother's dress, no less.

  "You sound like my father." Zuleika sighed. "His ship carried silk and jewels and fur to make me a court dress so that I might tempt the king into marriage."

  "They belong to your father?"

  Present tense, not past, Zuleika noted. She nodded.

  "I will speak to the seamstress. If the cloth is yours, perhaps she can make something of it. If you help his brother to break the curse, perhaps the king will be so grateful that –"

  "NO!" Zuleika interrupted, louder than she'd intended. She hurried to explain, "If I break the curse, as you say, I will be in love with the prince. The king can look elsewhere for a bride." Or a whore, she thought but didn't say.

  "Yes, my lady."

  Though she couldn't see Inga's face, Zuleika was certain the woman was smiling.

  NINETEEN

  After enduring an interminably long toilette, Zuleika was finally allowed to make her way to the great hall, where she was told the prince waited for her. He had evidently grown impatient, for he was nowhere to be seen when she arrived. The heavy doors had been thrown open, so she ventured outside in search of him. The yard she entered sounded like it was full of people, but she could only see one – the prince. He stood in deep conversation with someone unseen, beside a magnificent dark horse. Yes, only a prince would own such an animal.

  Zuleika gave the stallion a wide berth, as she made her way across the icy cobbles. The mare she presumed would be her mount seemed supremely unconcerned by the invisible people saddling her for the coming ride. Zuleika pulled off her glove and allowed the mare's misty breath to warm her hand, giving the horse her scent. "What is her name?" she asked the groom she knew to be in earshot.

  "You are asking me, my lady?" At Zuleika's nod the man continued, "The master called her Embarr, on account of her swimming ashore from a shipwreck all by herself."

  Zuleika nodded. The horse was yet another piece of the puzzle, for if she had come from a ship, she did not truly belong to the prince. "I think she shall suit me well indeed, provided she does not try to walk on water again."

  The old man chuckled, which ended in a hacking cough. "Beg pardon, my lady. But Embarr here will not go near the water, not even to walk along the beach."

  "Then she is a wise animal." Zuleika mounted the mare, aware of every eye upon her, including the prince's. She smoothed her skirts as he approached.

  "Good morning, Lady Belle," he said. "Your beauty outshines the sun today."

  Soft, feminine laughter floated out of the open door. Greta, Inga and several more, by the sound of it.

  The girl she once was would have blushed. Zuleika the enchantress merely smiled.

  The prince moved in close, and stroked the mare's neck. He dropped his voice so low it was barely audible as he said, "They will stop at nothing, won't they? I'd wager there isn't a member of my household not watching us now."

  Zuleika ducked her head. In a low voice, she replied, "I believe you're right, your Highness. After all, they stand to gain much if the curse is broken."

  His voice rumbled in his throat. "And yet they have made you irresistible. If the witch who cursed me had looked like you do now, I could not have refused her anything. Do you think they would cheer if I were to throw you to the ground right now, and ravish you here before them?"

  It sounded like a jest, but the look in his eyes was too intense for levity.

  Zuleika stiffened. "I think you would disappoint them. They believe they serve a good, honourable man. Not a beast who ruts with unwilling women."

  A wolf. That was what he reminded her of right now. Something about him unsettled the mare, too. Zuleika nudged the horse forward through the gate.

  "Make haste, your Highness," she called over her shoulder. "It is discourteous to keep a lady waiting."

  She allowed Embarr to continue walking, until the clatter of hooves brought the prince to her side. She opened her mouth to say something else, but she closed it with a snap as they stepped out of the shelter of the high wall. The prince's house perched on a hill, overlooking the town and what must have been the harbour. The water was empty of ships today, though. If the prince owned all this, he was a wealthy man, with no need to resort to piracy.

  She glanced at the prince, and found his eyes still fixed on her.

  Before she could look away, he said, "I must apologise. I meant no disrespect. What I said, I said in jest. No more. My brother always said I had a fey sense of humour. I only wished to set you at ease in front of our audience, and instead I... I am sorry."

  "If a man can jest about ravishing women, then what is to stop him following words with action? I assure you, rape is no joke, your Highness."

  He seized Embarr's bridle, forcing her to stop. "I made a mistake, and offered you my apology. You are correct that rape is no joke. But you are wrong if you believe that words said in jest are no different to a man's actions. I have never forced a woman, and I will not. I am not a beast. Whether you believe it or not, you need not fear me. I will not hurt you, Lady Belle."

  She wanted to drop her gaze, but found she could not. No beast had ever looked so earnest. She wished she could believe him, if only for the sake of his household. She sighed. "Then perhaps we should start again. I shall bid you good morning, and ask whether you slept well?"

  He released the mare's bridle as he relaxed. "It is a fine winter morning for a ride. I wish I had slept better, but a mysterious maiden danced through my dreams, disturbing my slumber with her secrets."

  More flattery. "Ah, dancing maidens can be quite troublesome. I find it best to let them dance until they are exhausted, so that they fall asleep on their own, and leave you to rest."

  The prince snorted
softly. "So the maiden sleeps, but not I? That will not do. In order to sleep, I must dance, too."

  A faint smile touched Zuleika's lips. "Then you must try it tonight, or the next time the maiden invades your dreams, your Highness, and let me know whether it works for you."

  "Vardan," he corrected. "I am no one's Highness here. And as I have no doubt she will return tonight, if she permits me to dance with her, I shall give you a full report in the morning."

  She laughed aloud. "As long as all you do is dance, your report will be fit for a lady's ears."

  He grinned, showing more pointed teeth than any man should. "That I cannot promise. I am a man, after all."

  Yes. She could not afford to forget that.

  "A man who rides a rather splendid horse. I have no doubt he has an equally splendid name. Bucephalus, perhaps?" she asked.

  "No, I am no general, and I have no desire to conquer the world. His name is Arion."

  She nodded. "The speedy steed of the sea king. More noble still."

  "A gift from my brother. He came on the last ship to enter the harbour before we were cursed." Vardan reined in his horse and pointed. "You see those rocks there? The ones that look like fangs? That's where the entrance to the harbour used to be. Now, we can't even get a fishing boat out at high tide."

  That explained the absence of ships in port. "How did you get the ship out, then?" Zuleika asked, puzzled. "You say it entered the harbour, but there are no ships here now. How did it get out?"

  He stared at her for a long moment before he answered, "By road. We built an enormous cart, harnessed every pony on the island to it, and rolled it from the harbour to the sea. It was all for naught, though, for it hadn't even sailed out of sight before she ran into another patch of rocks the lookout never saw until it was too late. Tore out the bottom of her hull and she sank like a stone. Most of the crew drowned, and those that did not...returned to port in their boats to spread stories of what they called Haunted Isle, not Beacon Isle, on account of the ghosts."