Before Beauty (10 page)

She knew she had won when she saw
tears welling up his eyes. Without another word, her little brother
pulled her into a hug, and Isa clung to him, the fear and anguish
of separation suddenly surrounding her.

“
You must keep Father from coming
for me,” she sniffled into Launce’s shoulder, her words rushed.
“You have to remind him that whether I stay or whether I go, the
prince will have me in sickness or captivity. I will be a happier
captive if I know the family is safe.”

Launce finally pulled out of the
embrace, still glaring at her. But he helped her back up on her
horse and gave her a stiff nod before turning back down the
path.

Feeling even more alone than
before, Isa turned her horse off of the main road, and the Fortress
came into full view. The great stronghold was nothing new to Isa.
She’d visited it many times with Ansel as a child, but never had
she seen it been so empty.

The lofty battlements looked cold
and foreboding without the soldiers at their posts. And the great
front gate was closed. It seemed the prince wanted her to ask
permission before entering his domain, to be remind her of just how
small and insignificant she was.

The old resentment flared up again
as Isa stared at the distant, lofty gate. Prince Everard might be
forcing her to come, but that didn’t mean she was going to play by
his rules.

Isa turned her horse abruptly away
from the front entrance. Skirting the outer wall, she headed around
to the back of the Fortress, hoping the hole hadn’t been patched
up.

The bushes had grown since she’d
last visited, but to her relief, the gap hadn’t been discovered.
When she was small, the servant children had shown her the opening
in the outer wall, explaining how they used it to get in and out of
the Fortress without their parents’ knowledge. It was covered by a
dense thicket of foliage, barely big enough for Isa’s horse. But
once she made it through, she was very glad she had come this
way.

Much less intimidating, the
servants’ entrance was smaller and had fewer grandiose
architectures. If she’d gone farther down the road, Isa would have
made it to the servant’s gate. What had been open for her father,
however, must have been visited by some sort of spirit keeper, for
the back gate was now closed.

Isa rode through the open fields,
noticing for the first time a strange set of great statues that
filled half of the meadow behind the Fortress. They seemed
innumerable, large effigies lined neatly up in perfect rows and
columns. Snow covered most of the figures, but there was something
eerily human about them. They most definitely hadn’t been there
when she was little. Each one had unique features, carved of stone,
and yet giving the impression that they could walk away whenever
they pleased.

When Isa finally arrived at the
royal stables, she took as long as she possibly could to feed and
groom her horse. As she worked, she seriously considered spending
that night in the stable. Her animal was warm and familiar. He was
safe. But, Isa reminded herself, she had not abandoned her family
to hide in a stable. She had come with a purpose, and no one would
be safe until she fulfilled it.

“
Good night, my dear friend.” She
softly rubbed the horse one last time. “I will come to see you as
soon as I can.” Then, with a deep breath and a prayer, Isa left the
stable and headed for the servants’ door of the
Fortress.

The moment Isa crossed the
threshold, her nerve nearly fled. The sun was almost set behind
her, but the darkness before her was thick and terrifying. It was
as if a black fog had filled the once pristine, shining marble
halls. The air smelled deeply of mildew and dust. After letting the
door close behind her, she stood still, hoping her eyes would
somehow adjust to the blackness.

In spite of her fear, as she gave
pause, something deep down inside of Isa hoped this entrance would
annoy the prince. She couldn’t bear to give him the satisfaction of
making her feel insignificant. Not any more than he already had, at
least.

She finally spotted one single
candle sitting on a table not far from the door. She nearly lost
both the candle and her balance, however, when something cold
brushed against her arm. Her hand shook as she held the flame up,
trying to see what had touched her. But there was only the empty
hall to see.

Isa nearly screamed when two more
breezes gave her gentle pushes from behind. Only then did she
remembered Ansel’s warnings about the shadows. Drawing Deline’s
cloak about her as tightly as she could, Isa decided it would be
best to do as they wished. Ansel had seemed to think they meant him
no harm, but he really hadn’t been there long enough to know for
sure.

Isa was pushed down a number of
large empty halls, and up several flights of stairs before she was
allowed to rest. To her relief, a door was finally opened before
her by invisible hands, that led not into another hall or
passageway, but instead, a rather small room with a dim fire inside
a large hearth.

The fire didn’t completely chase
away the darkness, but it lit the room enough that Isa could see
that it had once been a very grand room. The tapestries and carpets
that were now riddled with moth holes, and covered in dust, must
have once been very beautiful, and were most likely made of rare,
expensive fabrics. An oversized bed with tall posts at each corner
filled much of the room, its head against the wall, next to the
fire. A large wooden writing desk was placed across from the bed,
near the windows that faced south.

“
Thank you,” Isa whispered to the
shadows, tears coming to her eye as she recognized the lights of
Soudain in the distance at the foot of the mountain. There were the
sentries, the ones that stood guard at the town entrance at night
with their torches. Her father had been right. The shadows at least
weren’t malicious. If she was to be trapped in this place, at least
she could sleep with her beloved city in sight.

That seemed to be the end of the
shadows’ kindnesses, however. Before she knew it, Isa was being
pushed over to a large wardrobe in the far corner of the room. She
gasped as it opened on its own to reveal a large variety of
dresses. Like the once lavish room, these gowns had been incredibly
lavish at one time. But they, too, smelled like wet dust. Isa
stared at them stupidly for a moment before she realized why she
was there.

“
Am I supposed to put one of these
on?” She felt silly asking the empty room. In response, however,
the shadows nudged her one step closer to the wardrobe. “These are
all far too extravagant for me.” She shook her head. “I don’t need
anything like this.” Again, she received a push. It seemed she had
no choice. So after glaring behind her, hoping the shadows would
catch her annoyance, Isa picked the simplest of the gowns. If she
was going to be introduced to the man who had tried three times now
to steal her life, she would not be made a fool in princess’s
rags.

The gown she chose was simple, but
still luxurious. The main fabric was dark blue that crisscrossed
the white bodice, with intricate silver stitching adorning the blue
skirt just below the waist. It was a dress her peers would have
done anything to wear in the city. Despite the fine craftsmanship,
unfortunately, the dress smelled as awful as the rest of the
Fortress. And yet, Isa was still forced to wear it.

Not even allowed to take her own
gown off by herself, Isa was subjected to much pulling and pushing
as it was tugged off of her like a farmer might sheer a sheep. She
could feel pulls and pushes at her sturdy boots as well, but she
adamantly refused to let those leave her feet. She wasn’t entirely
sure that she’d be able to walk through the length of the palace
without them.

“
You can do anything else to me
that you wish,” she scowled at the fussing shadows, “but those are
not coming off until I am ready for bed.”

Eventually, to her relief, they
left her boots alone and began to fuss with her hair instead,
which, admittedly, was rather messy from her journey up the
mountain in the cold wind.

Finally, she was ready. At least,
she supposed she was ready once the shadows stopped their constant
poking and prodding at her clothes, and began instead to escort her
towards the door. Isa was getting used being pushed or pulled from
all directions by that time, however, so she went willingly when
they prodded her out the door once more. This time, much to her
relief, the halls were just a bit brighter. Someone or something
had lit torches and placed them along the walls. With light now to
walk by, she moved somewhat confidently.

Until she walked right into the
prince.

His shout of surprise was the
first real sound Isa had heard since leaving her horse. It mingled
in the air with her own startled cry as they both fell back a step.
Immediately, Isa half knelt, half fell into a curtsy. As much as
she had meant to be brave, a deep fear quickly wriggled into her
heart. She would soon find out what awful plans he had for her, and
she suddenly didn’t know if she could bear it.

“
Your Highness!” her voice
quivered strangely. “Please forgive me.”

It took the prince a moment to
recover his own voice, it seemed, but when he spoke, it was
surprisingly rich, rude as his words were.

“
Are you Isabelle?”

“
Yes, Sire.” As if any other sane
woman would sneak into the cursed citadel. An awkward silence
ensued as she continued to kneel and he stood over her. Finally, he
said,

“
Why didn’t you arrive during the
daytime hours?”

“
I beg your pardon?” Isa had to
keep herself from looking up in response to the strange
question.

“
I told your father that you
needed to come during the day!” His voice was petulant.

Isa had nothing to say to
this.

“
He didn’t tell you, did he?” the
prince asked.

Isa shook her head.

“
You came on your own, didn’t
you?”

For fear of giving away her
family’s plans, Isa remained quiet. He was here, but if he found
out her family had planned to flee, he might kill her father
anyway. She wouldn’t put such treachery past him.

There was another long pause
before the prince cleared his throat, his voice a little less
sullen when he spoke again. “Isabelle, you may stand when I speak
with you from now on. I dislike speaking to the floor.”

As she stood, Isabelle dared to
look at her prince for the first time in fourteen years. She nearly
gasped aloud. He was nothing like she’d expected. His hands were
hidden in the folds of his clothes, but the part of his chin that
showed was thin and pale, nearly chalky. Most of his face was
hidden by the hooded cloak he wore, but even through the thick
fabric, she could see his nearly emaciated frame. His back was so
bent that he was nearly the same height that she was.

In fact, he stood and moved the
way her grandfather had done before he died. But her grandfather
had suffered from severe joint pain for years, and the prince
should have been only twenty-seven years in age, four years older
than herself.

It seemed her father had been
wrong. The curse had touched the prince as well. This couldn’t
possibly be the hero prince the children sang songs about, the one
who had slain dozens in battle. And yet, here he was.

“
You weren’t supposed to be here
for two more days,” he growled again. “How did you get
in?”

“
Near the servants’ entrance,
Sire,” Isa tried to keep the small smile off her face. At least she
had succeeded in doing something her own way. “I thought it only
appropriate, as I am to be your servant.”

“
It is true that–Look up at me,”
he interrupted himself, suddenly removing his hood. “I want to see
you better.”

Isa couldn’t have looked away if
she’d wanted to. His face was gaunt. Dark circles seemed painted
below his eyes, and his skin appeared fragile, as though someone
had stretched it too thinly over his sharp cheekbones. His golden,
unkept hair was reached to his shoulders, making his ashen cheeks
look even more sunken.

But what really drew her gaze were
his eyes. They were the only parts of his face that stood out more
than his thin nose, but not because they were frightening as the
rest of him was. The prince’s eyes would have been gray if not for
the thin rings of blue fire that encircled his pupils. They blazed
in a strange, beautiful rhythm that made her want to lean in
closer. Unfortunately, she realized, those deep, extraordinary eyes
were glaring at her with a very real hatred.

He remembers me.

So he hadn’t brought her to the
Fortress for revenge. The surprise and loathing on his face was so
intense that Isa would have wilted under it, had she not been
already battling similar feelings of her own. They stood glowering
at one another for a long moment before his expression became more
controlled. When he spoke again, his voice was slow and
deliberate.

“
Yes, you are my servant, but not
the kind you think.”

“
Then, Your Highness,” Isa spat
out, “what am I here for?”

He watched her, a strange look on
his face, for a minute longer before answering.