Before Beauty (14 page)

“
Neither gold nor power can mend a
broken heart,” Garin said gently.

“
Well, then,” Ever frowned at the
shadow, “it is your job to find me something that can.”

CHAPTER TEN

Never Again

When Isa awakened the next morning, the sun had
already risen high in the winter sky. Wiping the sleep from her
eyes, she struggled to break free from the dreams that had trapped
her all night. Images of Raoul and the prince had blended together
into a terrifying nightmare, a never ending dance in which she was
both unwanted, and yet forced to be a part of.

It was a few minutes before Isa
was completely convinced that the visions were only dreams, not
terrible memories. As she began to more clearly recall the details
from the night before though, she wasn’t sure the truth was really
any better than the dreams had been. The silken slippers, the
lonely dance, and the hopelessness came back to her piece by piece.
And as each miserable moment returned, a new determination began to
set in.

Never again would she be a part of
that story. She was through letting the shadow servants bully her,
no matter how many orders Prince Everard gave them. She wasn’t
going to wear the slippers. It would be her boots or no dancing at
all. And if indeed the prince wanted to dance again, she would
choose to hold her head high, not lower it in shame with tears
running down her face.

Maybe her mother had been right.
There was a time to mourn what she had lost, but she could see now
that self-pity had made her weak and vulnerable. She would never be
powerless like that again.

In addition to her new sense of
resolve, as she became more fully awake, Isa began to sense a
strange new presence. Oddly, she innately knew that the presence
which comforted her didn’t belong to any of the servants that were
always hovering nearby. It was a different kind of comfort, more
potent than any human company she’d ever encountered before. And as
much as she was confused by it, the new presence had somehow
transformed the Fortress in her eyes overnight. The smells of dust
and mildew were noticeably less powerful this morning, and the bed
she slept in had felt just as familiar as the one pallet in her
parents’ attic.

The presence didn’t fade as she
got dressed. Her boots and clothes had been once again returned to
her during the night, and Isa took the new shine of her boots as a
sort of apology from the servants.

“
I accept your apology,” Isa
announced to the shadows as she pulled the boots on. “But do not
think that means you can take them again tonight. If the prince
wants to dance, I will be wearing the boots or there will be no
dance at all, understand?”

The shadows brushed by her in
annoyed, sharp breezes, and Isa felt a sense of laughter from the
walls around her. What was this strange presence that heard both
her words and her heart?

“
Oh,” she called out once more to
the servants, knowing they would listen even if they didn’t want
to. “And tell your prince I need books on the early history of this
place. That should be a mild enough request to suit
him.”

The sense of the presence still
didn’t depart as Isa left her room. Instead, it felt close, warmly
wrapping around her the way her mother’s cloak did. Moving through
the towering halls and out to the stable, it felt like the presence
had been there her whole life. How had she missed it before this?
It was as if her eyes were just being opened.

After tending to her horse, Isa
returned to the rose garden. As confirmation of her suspicions that
something was different, there was a single rose bud on the hedges
when she arrived. It grew near the spot where she had fallen the
day before. The flower was small, to be sure, and hardly open, but
the bright sliver of pink was impossible to ignore against the
background of brown.

“
What is this place,” Isa murmured
to her new companion, “that rose buds should bloom just before the
dawn of winter?” In response, a breeze smelling of lavender caught
her dress and twirled it gently against her legs.

Isa smiled, remembering what she’d
come to the garden for to begin with. Her ankle bore none of the
pain from last night, strangely enough, and was now tucked safely
in her boots. It was time for her to dance.

Once again, Isa’s dancing was not
the fluid, confident movement it had been when she was a child. In
fact, her limbs were sore from the day before, and possibly even
less coordinated. And yet, her arms, her legs, and even her ankle
felt just a little more poised, a little more prepared for the
steps she put them through.

A few hours later, as she headed
in for lunch, Isa realized with a start that for the first time in
years she felt like she had a purpose here. And as much as she
hated being held against her will, and even if the prince was a
despicable human being, she desperately wanted a purpose, one that
went beyond tending her parents’ store for the rest of her life. If
she was somehow able to miraculously restore the Fortress as Prince
Everard wanted her to do, it wouldn’t be done for him. It would be
done for the kingdom. And wasn’t that a cause noble enough to
desire?

The midday meal was waiting in her
room, along with a stack of books. She ate and read until the
servants began to pester her about getting ready again for the
evening meal. With a sigh, she stood and let them push her in
circles as she sensed this would be a nightly event. Despite her
resolutions from that morning, Isa still dreaded the approaching
supper, dreaded speaking with him, feeling his touch, even seeing
his face. The dream of Everard and Raoul was still fresh in her
mind. But, Isa supposed, this was part of the price to pay for
saving the kingdom, and for that, she would put up with the
servants’ tricks and the prince’s ill temper. She could do that for
the kingdom.

This evening she didn’t get to
choose her gown. She had dawdled purposefully until it was too late
for the grimy bath, and wasn’t surprised when a dress of light
green velvet and yellow silk was shoved at her. She endured all the
shadows’ pushing and pulling until she was once again handed a set
of dreadful, lovely silken slippers.

“
I told you,” Isa folded her arms
and stood firmly in place, “I’m not wearing those tonight. It’s my
boots or nothing.”

To her amazement, one of the
little shadows dove furiously at her feet, nearly knocking her
over. Indignation rose up inside of her. “If you think I’m going to
supper without my boots, you are sorely mistaken!” she hissed. She
stamped her foot down hard on the stone floor to make her
point.

Isa could feel the shadows begin
to swirl about her, and with a tiny bit of fear, wondered if they
would continue to behave as people without bodies, or true ghosts
when they were angry. Before she had too much time to worry,
however, that faithful presence seemed to flood the room, and the
shadows went scattering. She could feel their annoyance as they put
up her hair after that, but nothing more was done about the
boots.

Just moments before she was ready
to walk to the dining hall, a knock sounded at her door. When she
answered it, to her amazement, Prince Everard was waiting. He was
still wearing the thick cloak, but underneath he was wearing what
appeared to be a somewhat clean garment of deep brown with silver
threads. It was too large for his frail body, but she had to admit
that distinguished attire didn’t look uncomely. He looked to have
washed his hair as well, as it was combed and parted neatly, the
gold strands glinting in the weak light from her
fireplace.

He shocked her even more by giving
her a stiff bow and somewhat awkwardly extending his arm. “Good
evening, Miss Isabelle. Will you allow me to escort you to
supper?”

Not quite sure what she was doing,
Isa accepted his hand as if in a daze. Inwardly, she berated
herself for so readily taking it, her willingness to touch the man
that she loathed so. To her annoyance, she also found she wanted
desperately to stare into his strange fiery eyes. Though all else
about him was too upsetting to look at for very long, she could
have gazed into the rings of blue forever.

They walked in silence to the
dining hall. Their progress was slow, and their uneven steps made
scuffing sounds echo down the great stone corridors. Isa did
grudgingly admit to herself that it was nice for once not to be the
slow one. The man beside her was every bit as slow as she was.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered what he had looked
and walked like before the curse.

After the incident at the parade,
Isa had avoided all events at which the prince had made public
appearances. Following the events, the other young women always
reported with giggles that they had nearly swooned at the sight of
him.
How straight he stood!
they would exclaim. And though he wasn’t the
tallest man in the court, Isa had heard, he’d carried himself
powerfully, and that one swipe of his fist could knock a strong man
unconscious.

With a start, Isa realized that
the prince had fallen much harder than she had first guessed. He,
who had grown up with respect and strength, was reduced to walking
at the speed of a lame peasant woman. It was ironic, she thought.
And yet, it brought her less satisfaction than she would have
expected.

Supper had been laid out by the
time they arrived. Again, once they were seated, the prince started
the conversation, his voice polite and distant.

“
Were the books I sent to your
liking?”

“
They…were satisfactory in regards
to history, Your Highness.”

“
But?”

Isa looked up from her stew to see
the prince raising one of his eyebrows. He must have caught the
tenor of dissatisfaction in her voice. She sighed.

“
It would be easier if I were
simply allowed to browse the library on my own.”

But the prince was already shaking
his head. “That is out of the question.”

Isa nodded, a bit annoyed that he
had pried the request out of her when she hadn’t meant to make
it.

He wasn’t done, however. Leaning
forward, he cocked his head. “Out of curiosity, why are you so
intent on finding the books on your own?”

Isa felt annoyance rise up within
her again as she pushed her bits of meat and potatoes around the
bowl. “I need to know more about the magic.” As if it weren’t
obvious enough.

“
Magic?” He raised that eyebrow
again, and Isa scoffed a bit.

“
Surely you cannot think that the
rest of the world experiences life as…as you do here. In the real
world, it shadows do not appear to serve supper. Hundreds of
life-sized statues, each as different as a man from his neighbor do
not suddenly appear on a lawn and look as if they have been there
for decades. Doors do not open on their own, nor do instruments to
play without musicians.

“Besides, you cannot pretend that
all these strange things have begun to happen only since the
casting of the curse. In Soudain, even small children know the
Fortress holds a special power. Whatever happened to this place
came from within. I can feel it.
That
is what I need to know more
about.” Isa sat back and took a breath, finally glad to have gotten
the chance to vent at the prince.

He didn’t answer immediately, but
gave her a long, shrewd look, distracting her with those strange
storm gray and blue eyes. Finally, when he did speak, his answer
was slow and deliberate.

“What you call
magic
does indeed exist, but there
is no book in the Tower of Annals or any other place that can
explain it.” His eyes turned dark, and his deep voice became
bitter. “It cannot be written about. It does not have that kind of
nature. Many have tried, but none have succeeded, and in their
frustration, they burned or destroyed what little they attempted.
If you have questions, you will have to content yourself with
asking me. Do you understand?”

Isa nodded, a bit taken aback by
the sudden storm in his voice. He had gone from being distantly
civil to temperamental once again.

They ate in silence until he
added, more softly this time, “I know the…strength of this Fortress
better than any other creature, living or dead. What I need you to
understand is that if I simply told you what you wish to know, you
would never be able to break the curse. There are things about this
place that you must discover for yourself before the curse can be
touched, knowledge the Fortress will reveal to you if you need
it.”

Isa stared at him, dumbfounded, as
he stared sadly out into night sky through the great windows behind
her. She was still trying to understand what he meant when he spoke
in his polite voice once more.

“
Are the slippers my servants
chose for you not to your liking?”

Isa broke out of her reverie and
without thinking, looked down at her feet. So he had noticed the
boots. “The slippers are fine,” she said, “but I prefer
boots.”

His expression was so quizzical
that she sighed and explained. “After the accident, my father had
the cobbler make me boots that could support my ankle. Without
them, I can hardly walk, much less dance. Your servants stole my
boots last night and forced me to wear the slippers.”