Blinding Beauty, page 14
“I know you spoke with Ever this morning. Does he think that I can do this? Master my power and fulfill my role as queen?”
“That is something you will have to ask him,” Kartek said slowly. As she left the room, her footsteps echoing down the stone hall, a chill moved through Isa.
That was exactly what she was afraid of.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A Midday Meal
Isa was still mulling over what Kartek had told her when another knock sounded at the door.
“Midday meal for the queen!” a lilting voice sang out. Despite the many, varied accents Isa had heard at the palace during the last few days, Isa knew this one immediately. Sure enough, Norbert opened the door to let in Brokk, who was carrying a covered silver platter.
“Your husband notified the kitchen that the queen was in need of some food.”
“Thank you, Brokk. That is very kind of you.” Isa wasn’t particularly hungry, nor was she really in the mood to entertain more company, but the servant’s presence lit up the place like a chandelier. As he placed the platter on the table, he glanced about the room.
“Are you not getting a bit bored in here?”
Isa let out a burst of a laughter. “Yes, but...” she paused, not knowing how much to say about Ever’s orders. As much as she resented them, it felt risky to make the world privy to their personal disagreements. Brokk seemed to understand, and to her surprise, looked remorseful.
“I fear I am not a very good servant. I tend to put myself up on a pedestal where I do not belong, with the palace guests as equals. But may I let you in on a little secret?”
Amused, Isa nodded. While Brokk certainly didn’t act the part of a typical servant, she rather preferred his little quirks. It was nice to have a friend somewhere in this new, unfriendly world.
“I have only been serving here for a little while,” Brokk said with an unreadable expression. “And I don’t plan on continuing for very long, either.”
“You sound as though you’re on a quest.” Isa smiled. A sad half grin crept up on one side of the older man’s mouth, and suddenly, his typical joviality was all gone.
“I guess I am.”
“What for?” Isa leaned forward, all thoughts of the meal nearly gone.
Brokk hesitated, throwing a slightly nervous glance at the door.
“Please,” Isa pressed, suddenly in great need of a distraction from the tumult of her thoughts. “If they say anything, I will explain that you were assisting me.”
His eyes crinkled kindly at the corners and he nodded. “Very well. But please sit and eat at least.”
Sighing, Isa did as he asked. As soon as she was comfortable, and her steaming platter of chicken, seasoned corn, and rice was served, Brokk settled himself across from her as she ate.
“I was even a bit younger than you when my path to this end was set, and I met the girl of my dreams. Her name was Agatha.” His voice was low, and the expression on his face affectionate, as though he saw her even now before him. “I was much younger back then, but I sometimes still awaken in the night, and it feels as though she could still be beside me.” He stood mostly straight, but bent just enough to lightly twist the hem of his green uniform, and the troubled creases that filled his face made him look suddenly much older.
“Agatha was from another province. But she was so lovely, with skin nearly the color of milk, and eyes almost as dark as the night.” He paused before adding, “It wasn’t long before I’d begged her to marry me.”
“What happened?”
“It’s rather uncomplicated. A sickness swept the land. Thousands died.” He sighed. “She succumbed after weeks of fighting, much longer than most other victims had to suffer. But she was determined...” He suddenly had to clear his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Isa breathed. She looked down at her picked-at plate, wishing she could help. It felt so wrong to see Brokk’s sunny face so full of sorrow. Before she had time to say anything else, however, the door swung open, and Ever strode in, carrying a full plate of food.
“I brought you lunch—” Ever stopped, unhappy surprise registering on his face when he saw Brokk.
In that moment, Isa realized that someone had lied. Ever hadn’t sent Brokk with her meal. Someone else must have sent him. But who would lie about her lunch?
“Thank you, Brokk.” Isa hurried to put the cover back on the platter, and shoved it all back into Brokk’s hands. The servant took the hint, and after bowing to both of them, quickly excused himself from the room. As much as Isa wanted to know about Brokk’s quest, she knew the look in Ever’s eye only too well. Ever didn’t say a word, just watched every move the servant made.
As Brokk left, Isa closed her eyes and inhaled deeply in order to calm herself. This was not a good way to start the conversation they needed to have.
After he was gone, Ever thrust the plate he held onto the little round table.
“You could have been a little nicer to him,” Isa huffed. “He was only trying to help.”
“The second competition will start soon,” he muttered, ignoring her objection. “Where’s Cerise? You need to be ready.”
“I let her have a day in the town,” Isa said. She went over to the wardrobe and began to go through her clothes for lack of something better to do as she tried to find the words she needed to say.
She had been so angry that morning when he’d locked her in her room. She’d contemplated every possible way to communicate her fury, everything from shouting to ignoring him completely. But when Kartek had come and shared his story, a bit of compassion had seeped into her. Forgive him, a voice in her head whispered. He’s just trying to protect you. Unfortunately for that voice, however, every brusque word he uttered, and every abrupt move he made, made forgiveness just that much more difficult. Nevertheless, Isa took a breath and searched for words.
“Thank you for bringing me something to eat.”
“What? Oh, you’re welcome.” He was still glaring at the door as she pulled on a more practical dress for the outdoors. When he ran his hand down his jaw as he spoke, Isa knew immediately that it had been the wrong thing to say. He turned to glare at her. “Isa, what were you thinking?”
“What do you mean?”
“Inviting someone in when I specifically wanted you to stay here alone? What good is it being hidden if you invite the world in?”
“He was told that I needed a midday meal!” Isa felt the anger stir within her once more. “How was I supposed to know you were going to bring me something? I assumed you were the one to send him!”
“I certainly did not send him! Why would I send strange men into our room after you were attacked?” Ever stopped, his eyebrows going up. “Who sent him?” he asked in a deadly tone.
“He didn’t say! And I’m not a child, Everard! You can’t dictate my every word and move!” Isa’s resolution to forgive him dissolved as she held his furious glare, which grew only more intense when she used his full name.
“I will do whatever I have to—” he stopped, and cocked his head. It only annoyed Isa more when she realized he was hearing something she couldn’t, something she would have heard had her powers been working properly. “We need to go,” he said finally. “It’s almost time.”
Isa fumed as she struggled to pull on her dress. Despite it being less complicated than most of the gowns Gigi had sent her, she still needed Cerise to close the back. But Cerise wasn’t there.
“Then I need you to help me with this,” she spat out. With a huff, Ever stomped over to help her, but she could feel the tension rolling off of him as he did. “We will finished this conversation later,” she added icily, spinning around to glower up at him when he was done. Ever said nothing, just turned and walked to the door. Isa followed, swearing to herself that he wouldn’t get off that easily. They would talk about this.
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.
