Before Beauty (16 page)

The prince sat in his chair
looking astonished, but Isa didn’t wait for him to recover.
Grabbing her mother’s cloak from her chair, she threw it around her
shoulders as she stomped down the steps to the nearest ground level
door. She heard him yelling for her as she moved, but he wasn’t
fast enough to catch her.

Throwing open the door, she ran
out onto the back lawn. Gusts of snowflakes were just beginning to
whip furiously in the air around her, but Isa didn’t care. Tears
streamed down her face as she plunged headfirst towards the
statues. Only after a few minutes of trudging through the
accumulating snow with the frigid air penetrating her clothing
though, did she begin to wonder where she was going. All she had
wanted to do was get away from the prince. But the snow was falling
thickly, and she could not walk far in snow, even with her
boots.

It didn’t take her long to reach
the statues, where she hoped to find some shelter from the wind
before getting completely turned around. She started to breathe a
sigh of relief when she reached the tall stone figures, but before
she could rest, an arrow of flame fell from the sky, narrowly
missing her.

With a shriek, Isa turned back
towards the Fortress, but the rising snow and the stiffness of her
ankle made her progress slow. More arrows followed, one of them
finally catching her skirts on fire and singeing her leg. It
knocked her over, the snow extinguishing the flames, but before she
could even attempt to rise, a monstrous creature appeared in the
sky.

It was so large, Isa could see the
rings of fire in its eyes, but the fire wasn’t blue like Everard’s.
It was gold, and it flamed brighter and brighter as the bird dove
straight at her. Isa cried out as it struck her calf with its large
beak, just above the place the arrow had scorched. Pain shot up to
her thigh, and with it, the awful realization that like the
creatures of the Fortress, this bird was no typical bird of prey.
The hawk made a large arc over her in the sky, and had turned to
dive at her again when a sword was suddenly thrust between the fowl
and its prey.

Isa turned to see Prince Everard’s
hunched form standing above her. He shook with the effort to keep
the sword raised so high, but the hawk stopped before it could
finish its plunge.

“
Go!” he ordered.

Isa scrambled to stand, crying out
at the burning in her leg, and together, they headed back towards
the castle. They moved sluggishly, however, and though the prince
kept his sword raised, the bird regained its confidence and began
to strike at them once more. Over and over it struck, but it didn’t
touch her again.

By the time they made it back, Isa
was more exhausted and frightened than she’d ever been in her life.
The pain in her leg was agonizing. But her alarm grew even greater
when she turned to look at the prince.

His neck, arms, and face were
covered in gashes. He dropped his sword to the floor when the
servants slammed the door shut behind them, but instead of
collapsing, he gripped her arm and dragged her to the nearest
chair. Wordlessly, Isa let him. Shadows rushed around to feed the
nearest fireplace as he fairly tossed her into the seat.

“
Pull up your dress,” he
barked.

Shocked, Isa stared at
him.

“
If I don’t tend to your leg, you
will lose it! Would you like that?” he growled at her.

Still unable to speak, Isa shook
her head and slowly lifted her gown up to her knee. The flesh on
her shin was shiny and dark red, and as soon as she saw it, the
pain was nearly unbearable. Above the burn was a large gash from
which blood was dripping down. The sight made her suddenly very
dizzy, and it took all of her strength not to faint.

To distract herself, she tried to
focus on Prince Everard’s eyes. He had stiffly dropped to his
knees, and was yelling out orders to the servants, calling for
herbs and bandages. It was only then that she recalled his warning
from her first evening there, telling her never to leave the
Fortress at night. Guilt settled over her as she continued to stare
into her prince’s eyes.

His face was still simultaneously
pale and flushed. Beads of sweat ran down his temples, making lines
in the dirt and soot that covered his face. The blue fire in his
eyes was blazing more brightly than she had ever seen it, and with
a start, she realized the presence that had followed her around for
the past weeks was in him as well. She suddenly understood that it
was the presence itself from which his strength was derived. So the
presence wasn’t a stranger to him either.

Seeing him there, covered in blood
and soot, looking nearly weak enough to pass out himself, and yet
tending to her wound, Isa’s stomach did a strange flop. By that
time, the servants had surrounded them with all sorts of herbs,
salves, water, and bandages. His claw-like hands shook as he
removed his gloves, but he still somehow moved more quickly than
she had seen him do since arriving at the Fortress. Expertly, he
mixed the herbs with his fingers and rubbed them on her
wound.

“
What were you thinking?” His
voice was low and dangerous.

“
I…I’m sorry,” Isa
whispered.

“
Do you not remember me
specifically telling you to stay inside at night?” he
exploded.

Isa could only stare at him with
sorrowful eyes.

“
You were nearly killed out there!
You do not seem to understand what your life is no longer your own!
You’re still under the delusion that what you do only affects you!
Let me put this simply. If you die, I do not stand a chance at
restoring the Fortress or the kingdom! Think about that next time
you’re of the mind to do something foolish!”

“
I’m sorry,” Isa whispered again.
And she was. If it hadn’t been for her infernal temper, neither of
them would be bleeding right now. He might have been cruel, but it
was she who had lost self-control and foolishly run out into the
storm. She should have been stronger than that.

The prince took a deep breath and
stopped working. “I’m sorry, Isabelle. My words aren’t meant to
hurt you. I am frustrated because I should have been better able to
protect you.”

In that moment, Isa saw a flash of
the warrior he had once been, and it was obvious that his current
weakness shamed him greatly.

“
You don’t know what it’s like to
be a soldier, to stand guard at the gates of evil, to know without
a doubt that you can overcome it. And then to have it all stripped
away as your kingdom slowly burns to the ground.”

An awkward quiet settled over them
for what felt like an eternity. The prince continued to treat her
wound, and Isa watched, trying to digest all that he had said. No
matter how much she wished to deny it, what he had said made more
sense of his many strange moods. She felt as though she were
gaining a peek into the prince’s calloused soul, and any doubt that
the prince had a heart of flesh buried somewhere within him, fled
her like a thief in the night. Finally, Isa could stand the silence
no more.

“
You are quite skilled with
wounds.”

The prince didn’t look up as he
carefully wrapped her leg in a long, white cloth. “Rarely in battle
is there a healer to be found when he is needed. All of my men are
required to learn the basic healing skills. If they do not, many
soldiers die.”

“
Who were they, the people that
attacked us?” Isa tried to quiet her hammering heart, but fear
still consumed her.

He didn’t answer until he had
finished wrapping her leg and his gloves were back on. Finally, he
looked her in the eyes. There was no playfulness there this time,
no spite, nothing but an earnest frustration. He measured her for a
long moment before saying, “Come with me. There is something you
need to see.”

Isa wasn’t sure she would be able
to walk, but as soon as she stood up, she could feel the expertise
of the prince’s work. There was hardly any pain aside from the
usual ache of her ankle as she followed him to the stairs she had
snuck up once before.

“
What you are about to see has
only ever been seen by the Fortress kings and queens and their
closest confidantes. It is sacred, the heart of the Fortress. But,”
he turned to her with that strange contemplative look, “if you can
truly break the curse, it will affect more than just this Fortress
and its inhabitants. What happens in this room will one day
determine the fate of our world and that of our
enemies.”

When they finally reached the top
of the tower, Isa could see sweat still trickling down the prince’s
neck in the weak torchlight. She was breathing hard herself from
the effort of the long climb. When he unlocked the door, however,
the view made her forget the exhaustion.

She gasped as she stepped into the
tower of windows. He led her over to the north side of the circular
room. From there, she could see a great encampment at the foot of
the mountain. Despite the dark, hundreds of fires lit up the night.
They made it easy to see the countless rows of tents that stood
tauntingly.

“
You can’t see them from your
room,” he said quietly. “I put you there on purpose so you
couldn’t, but that is the enemy.”

“
Who are they? What are they
waiting for?” Her heart began to thump unevenly again.

“
In the thousand years that this
Fortress has stood, it has never gone dark. Tonight’s attack was a
warning, a taunt. They are reminding me that they’re
watching.”

“
Why do they hate you so much?”
Isa turned away from the fires to look at him.

“
The Fortress isn’t the only
source of power and strength in the world.” He stared down at the
enemy, his eyes troubled. “And yet, Destin is different from all of
the other kingdoms. For a thousand years, it has been the strongest
of all.” He paused. “What did you learn of the first king, Cassiel,
in the books I sent to you?”

Isa racked her memory, running
quickly through the dozens of droll histories she’d been
reading.

“
Wasn’t he once a knight for
another kingdom?”

Everard nodded. “He was a
low-ranking knight of a nearby land, a man of little consequence.
On an errand for the king, he entered the lower country of his
land, what is now Soudain, and saw the injustices being inflicted
upon the people because of his proud king’s negligence.

“
The Maker’s hand was upon Cassiel
as he set out to right the wrongs that evil had brought upon the
people of the southern land, the atrocities that the nobles of
Cassiel’s land ignored. In less than ten years, he had turned a
barren wasteland full of impoverished souls into a safe and
prosperous haven. As a result, the people there were blessed with
rich soil and flowing streams.

“
In addition, the Maker gifted him
with the Fortress, a home from which he could draw a special
strength to do justice and provide mercy. That strength was passed
on to his descendants as well. That is why the Fortress is more
than just a castle. It has been a place of light and hope for a
millennium.” The prince placed his hand upon one of the glass walls
and ran his fingers down the glass. “Until now,” he finished in a
quiet voice.

“
How is it then that this…strength
is disappearing so quickly? If the Fortress was created with such
power, how can they attack us so ruthlessly?” Isa couldn’t tear her
eyes away from the fires below. “Particularly at night?”

“
There are other powers that
wander this earth.” Everard frowned. “They have never been able to
match the strength given this place, but that doesn’t mean they
should ever be underestimated. Our greatest enemy, Tumen, has been
a source of dark power for hundreds of years, a thorn in our side.”
Turning from the window, the prince shook his head in disgust and
sank into a chair.

“
Not long before he died, my
father sought an alliance with Tumen. My betrothal ball put an end
to that, however, thanks to the true intentions of their Princess
Nevina, and some ill-chosen words on my part.”

The idea of Everard having a
betrothal ball was troublesome to Isa for some reason, but she
ignored the irksome feeling it caused in her gut, and asked a more
appropriate question instead.

“
I still cannot understand where
their power comes from. How were they able to hit me so well
through the snowstorm? To see me even? And why would they attack
only at night? Surely it would be easier by day.”

“
Greed is a powerful weapon of its
own.” The prince gave a strange, hard smile. “Cultivated and
nourished enough, it can be twisted into an asset of surprising
force. King Cassiel was born in Tumen, and served its king until he
left to right the injustices he found here. Tumen has always
believed that because Cassiel was one of its own knights, Destin
rightfully belongs to the Tumenian king. Their rage at being denied
sovereignty of this land has become their weapon. The Tumenian
power is nearly as old as that of the Fortress, only it is one
shrouded in evil. It cannot stand the light of day.

“
As for her desire to my throne,
Princess Nevina, until recently, was the declared heir of Tumen’s
throne. When she was small, her father trained her in the ways of
their ancestors. She proved to be strong, and many Tumenians
believed she would be the one to restore Destin to them.