by Alice Wilde
Finally able to lower my eyes to the floor, I notice his shoes. How odd. While the people in our kingdom, and most that I’ve met from the foreign emissaries sent here, wear leather slippers or sandals, his shoes, made of a gold brocade, curl up at the end, causing his feet to look twice as long as I’m sure they are. The thought sends a secret smile to my face as I try to keep from laughing.
“Lord Godfrey, I hope your journey was most pleasant. We have—” The king coughs and spits more blood into the chalice. “We have been awaiting your arrival with great anticipation.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Lord Godfrey says in a voice as rich as velvet. “My journey was not without its troubles, but I am pleased to have arrived in one piece.”
It takes all my resolve to keep my eyes glued to the floor. A primal piece of me aches to watch his mouth move as he speaks while my heart screams to run.
“Very well. Let the ceremony begin!” the king says. “We shall begin with the questions of formality. When you are ready, Lord Godfrey.”
I feel the tension in the room rise, and I am suddenly even more nervous than before. I’m afraid I will pass out, and this tight dress isn’t helping matters.
“Please,” Lord Godfrey says, his voice silken and luring. “Step forward.”
I know this is directed at me, and if I had any willpower left, I’d have stayed glued to the ground whence I stood. However, no sooner had he spoken than I found myself gliding down the steps to stand before him, his massive body towering over me.
I somehow managed to keep my eyes to the ground, fixating on his funny shoes to help keep some semblance of my resolve intact.
“Good,” he says, his voice deep and commanding.
I feel like a pet having finally obeyed its master. This is so far from what I want, but I cannot seem to pull myself away.
“Annalise.” My name drips from his mouth like warm chocolate, and I nearly beg him to take me then and there.
Control yourself, my inner voice commands and the pain in my stomach starts again. I know something isn’t right about all of this, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. My head is starting to spin, so I breathe in and quiet my thoughts. Instantly I feel better. I do my best to keep my head clear of thought as I wait for the ceremony to proceed.
“Have you bled?”
I hadn’t been prepared for the questions. I suppose it was to keep me from rehearsing answers. I’m so surprised by the bluntness of the question and in the company of so many people, I cannot help but answer as quickly as possible.
“Yes.”
“How long have you been a woman?”
A funny question, but I know what he means.
“Three years. I bloomed late.”
“Have you been with another man?”
“No,” I say indignantly.
“Has your maidenhood been checked?”
“No…I…I don’t know what you mean.”
I can sense anger rise in him. “You said she would be ready.” The question is directed at the king.
“I can assure you, she has only been surrounded by women since her mother died,” Father says. “There is no need to worry. Her wing of the castle is off-limits to men, besides the guards, of course.”
He growls low, but I am sure I am the only one close enough to hear it. “Fine, but she must be formally checked before the wedding night.”
“As you wish,” the king says.
“My final question then. Have you been with a woman?”
I gasp, shocked at the question. I admit that growing up with only women around me and only one true companion, people have made remarks before, but I still find the question to be completely uncalled for. I have never given anyone reason to think I’ve done anything less than proper…at least not in the way he means. I gather myself before answering in as lofty a manner as I can manage without being scolded by Father.
“No.”
“Very well. I deem you innocent and a maiden. I shall have you,” he says, or rather, demands. “However, I have certain conditions that must be met.”
I bow my head in acknowledgment without realizing I’ve done so until it’s too late.
“First, your maids and governess, anyone who has up until now been allowed alone with you in your room will be replaced by those of my own choosing. Second, you will come when bade and sup with me each night. Third, you will not speak with anyone without my express consent and approval. Finally, your linens and every garment you place on your body shall only be white until the wedding as a sign that you are pure. For the wedding ceremony, you will wear red to signify that you are now taken. One of the many customs from my own country which you will grow to accept.”
His words are odd and deeply troubling to me, but the more I try to wrap my head around what he’s asking, the more my head grows foggy.
“Accept,” he says. It’s not a question.
“I accept,” I say, although every part of my being is screaming not to. I’m sure I had intended something very different to come out of my mouth, but I can’t bring the thought to surface in my mind now.
“Excellent,” he says with a chilling warmth, stepping forward and taking my shoulders in his large hands. “As the formalities have been appeased, I believe we can start the celebration.” He tucks a finger beneath my chin and raises my face to meet his, allowing me to see his eyes for the first time.
Rosa wasn’t fooling me.
His eyes are indescribable beneath his thick brows. Even as his face moves ever so gently toward me, his eyes shift from black to violet, to blue, to green, and back to black. I am captivated and yet terrified by them as he looks deep into my own.
I feel an icy pain shoot through my heart, and I gasp as I raise my hands to clench at my heart. He smiles rakishly, causing confusing, unwanted tingles to spread through my groin.
“You will learn to accept your feelings,” he says so only I can hear. “You will love me.” His violet eyes smolder as he kisses me gently on the forehead. Turning Damien shouts, “Let the feast begin!”
Cheers rise up from the crowd alongside my ever-growing unease.
Lord Godfrey snaps his fingers and the soldiers hurriedly move to help arrange tables and chairs as the king orders food to be served.
Within minutes, the guests have been seated and the food is streaming in.
The scent of roast pheasant and suckling pig fill the room alongside fragrant cheese and warm bread. Sweet wines and mead slosh into cups as the room begins to fill with the hum of conversation.
“Come,” Lord Godfrey says. Taking my hand in his, he leads me to our place at the head table. He pulls out a chair and indicates for me to sit, which I do before he takes his own to the left of the king.
Seated here, I am finally able to have some thoughts of my own. The more everything that just happened sinks in, the more my stomach twists. I don’t know what happened, but the Annalise who just agreed to a lifetime of indentured servitude…that wasn’t me.
As if reading my thoughts, my betrothed is suddenly pouring a large glass of sweet wine. He hands it to me, and I take it without thinking.
“Oh! The king has asked me not to drink,” I say hastily as I try to hand the cup back in panic.
“You are mine, and you will drink if I say you can.”
My eyes flit to the king’s face. He frowns but seems otherwise unperturbed.
I gulp down the wine much faster than I should, and Lord Godfrey is quick to refill it.
The wine is rich, sweet, and far heavier than anything I’ve ever tasted. I take a long draught from the second glass and feel my head start to spin. I should eat something.
Grabbing a warm roll from one of the plates piled in front of us, I scarf it down. I know it’s unbecoming, but I need something to soak up the wine. Lord Godfrey is watching me. He seems bemused by my behavior, but I do my best to ignore him, instead focusing on selecting which of the various meats and cheeses I am to eat next.
I pull the
knife I use when dining from the small belt at my waist, only to find a large hand gripping my wrist the next moment. I look up questioningly.
Taking my knife, he lays it down on the table in front of him and then stands.
“I have gifts.” His voice barrels out across the Great Hall, the sounds of feasting dying away almost instantly.
Snapping his fingers, several of the servants in the back rush forward carrying various golden chests. Most are placed before my father, and I see as he opens them that each is filled with a different precious material. The first is nearly overflowing with gold, the second emeralds, the third rubies, and so on. The king smiles, looking satisfied before spitting blood once again.
“And this,” Lord Godfrey says, “is for you.” He places a small pearl box on the table in front of me. “Open it.”
I hesitate, but curiosity gets the better of me and I lift the lid. Inside sits a dagger. The hilt is made of a white pearl, just like the box, with silver filigree and small, sparkling diamonds intertwining themselves in delicate patterns. It’s the most beautiful knife I've ever seen.
“It’s lovely,” I say, “but the knife you took from me was my mother’s. It’s one of the few things I have left to remember her by.”
Lord Godfrey frowns, his black eyes glowering at me, but he calmly says, “It is time to stop living in the past and prepare for the future. This will be your new knife, and you will use it daily.”
Before I can protest, he takes my mother’s knife from the table and places it in his own belt.
I feel tears welling up in my eyes. How can he be so cruel?
He claps his hands loudly, and once again his servants at the far end of the hall move into action.
“I know you will not always understand my actions, but I hope you will learn to accept that I know best. As a sign of my intentions toward you, I have one final gift. Actually, three to be exact,” Lord Godfrey says, his blue eyes smoldering at me in a way that makes my body shiver with delight.
Gasps, small shrieks, and the sound of scraping chairs force me to pull my eyes away from Lord Godfrey’s face and see what’s causing such a commotion.
I’m sure my eyes are playing tricks on me, but after a moment I realize they’re not. Making their way toward us is a very muscular servant grasping three thick chains, and connected to the chains are three unusually large snow leopards!
Their snarling faces do nothing to take away from their beauty, but I can’t help but feel sorry for them. The collars around their necks are bejeweled, but I can tell that the inner rims are lined with spikes from the way the creatures wince when their chains are pulled.
Reaching our table, the servant kicks them into seated positions, and I cringe at the abuse.
“These,” Lord Godfrey says, “are yours to keep. They shall be your guards and your constant companions. Wherever you go, they shall follow.”
I’m shocked. I hadn’t expected him to give them to me as pets, but I am suddenly thrilled by the thought. I had expected a far worse outcome for them, but perhaps by my side, they can actually know a kinder hand. If none of us will know the pleasures of freedom, at least we can have each other.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Thank you, Damien,” Lord Godfrey corrects, his green eyes almost laughing.
“Thank you, Damien. I shall cherish them,” I say.
The leopards are chained to the table by my side, and Lord Godfrey resumes his meal, ignoring me for the rest of the evening as he discusses business with my father. I am more than happy with this, as I spend the rest of the evening looking at my new companions.
Three white leopards. The most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. But there is something off about them. It takes me a few minutes to finally realize what’s bothering me about them.
It’s their eyes.
Each a different color.
Blue.
Green.
Violet.
Four
Li
The moment I see Annalise standing beside the throne, her lilac dress clinging to every curve of her body, I want her, and I can sense Ero and Roan do too.
I want to run to her, warn her of the danger she’s in, but I can’t. The chain around my neck digs in as the beast in me involuntary tries to pull me toward her. I manage to stop myself before I draw blood.
I’m generally looked to as the leader of the flurry, and I do my best to keep our beasts in check, but today we are all on edge. This isn’t going to be easy.
“By four winds,” Ero says, opening a channel of thought between myself and Roan, “when are these rituals ever going to end?”
Roan snorts. “Ye ken full well nothing is going to change until Damien finds the one. Sounds funny when I say it that way.”
“Of course, but this…woman. I mean, have you taken a good look at her?” Ero asks. “If it were me, man-me I mean, standing next to her, I’d have her bedded in an instant. Do you have any idea how much harder it’s going to be this time around?”
Annalise isn’t the first royal female Damien has tried to bond the spell with, but for the first time since I became a part of this curse, I’m worried too. I think he’s finally found the one spoken of in the Dark Book of Lethe.
“As long as we don’t bond with the lass, it won’t affect our fates. Damien can’t grow more powerful on his own,” Roan says.
“Easier said than done,” Ero says, sending a look my way. “The bonding may have already started.”
“Aye, she’s certainly a bonnie lass to look at.”
“Thor’s beard, Li! Stop staring at her. Damn, we’re done for. We’ll never get our freedom if we bond and Damien finds out. Keep your head down, Roan. Don’t let her beguile you too.”
For a split second, I’m looking directly in her eyes, and then I’m back at the far end of the Great Hall, an icy pain shooting through my heart. I do my best to clear my head and see what’s happening. Damien and Annalise are standing close now, the betrothal ceremony well underway.
I notice as first Ero and then Roan in turn shake their heads, looking dazed as if they too had just shot across the room and back. She must have looked into his eyes, her first big mistake.
I hope she’ll learn before it’s too late.
A low growl sounds in my head. Damien must be listening. It’s not safe to think too freely while we’re in such close proximity.
“Did you see it too?” I ask.
“Regrettably, yes. The lass looked in his eyes. It was bound to happen sooner or later,” says Roan.
“Well, we can’t let ourselves get drawn in any further. We know what Damien is after, and if he gets it, all our lives will be on the line.”
“I know,” I growl, although I shouldn’t be angry at the warning.
“Beasts?” Roan asks.
“Beasts.” I lay down and do my best to enter my beast heart, losing as much humanity as I deem safe for both myself and those around me…at least for the next few hours. Until we are alone again.
I am awakened from my sleeping position on the floor by the handler pulling on my chains. Not much time has passed, but the sounds of feasting are well underway. The spikes in my collar dig painfully into my neck, and I am quick to rise to a standing position. Ero and Roan do the same as their collars strain against their necks, but not before Ero shakes his head clear again.
Damien must have called him out again.
Up until this point, we’ve been mostly hidden behind a number of Damien’s servants, but they’ve suddenly stepped aside and we’re being driven to walk forward. The gasps and shrieks from the crowd remind me of the beast I am. You’d think they’d seen a ghost.
To be fair, I’m at least twice the size of an ordinary snow leopard, and Ero and Roan aren’t much smaller.
I check to see if Ero and Roan are themselves. I can sense Ero shake himself from his beast as we are commanded through the Great Hall. I hadn’t expected this; none of us did. I’d been sure we’d be kept at a dis
tance, just to be called out whenever Damien needed us, but now that we are being brought directly to him, we have to be focused.
I look toward the head table, trying my best not to stare at Annalise. Not that she’d know.
Damien is watching her as if she were some kind of prey he was finally about to ensnare. I’m not sure what’s about to happen. For all I know this is our sacrificial day.
I suddenly notice the white knife lying on the table before Annalise and curse to myself in my native tongue. If he’s listening, I’ll be punished, but at least I know he can’t understand. There are only three escapes from him in our present state. The first, and safest, being when we are out of proximity of his mind, the second being our native languages, and the third being our beast language, which we use most often to communicate with each other when Damien is near. For whatever reason, Damien doesn’t reprimand us for our beast language. Most likely because it’s pretty primal and what we can communicate is minimal.
As we get closer to Annalise, I notice Roan’s eyes are still glazed. He hasn’t fully shaken his beast state and is veering off toward the tables and meats. Ero and I flinch as our handler yanks him brutally back into line, and I snarl at Roan to keep in line. His eyes finally clear and I can sense he’s shaken his beast, for now.
“Hey, Roan, you okay?” I ask, once again creating a link between us.
“Yeah, just lapsed a bit too deep into my beast.
Our handler kicks us into sitting positions in front of Damien and Annalise. Really? All he had to do was ask, but I guess they want to keep up pretenses. Make them fear us.
Ero is suddenly called from himself.
“These,” Lord Godfrey says to Annalise, “are yours to keep.”
I blink. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard. He’s actually giving us to her as pets? More like his spies.
I glance over at Ero and Roan, both of whom have the same bewildered expression that’s only recognizable between beasts. Suddenly, Roan is pulled into a daze and then back, shaking his head in frustration.