Before Beauty (5 page)

It had been on that night that
Ever had noticed the extreme dullness of the fire in his father’s
eyes, the slight trembling of his arms and hands. And yet, he had
remained silent.

Now Rodrigue was dead. And as Ever
stared into the casket in which his father lay, he could see
nothing but the face of the girl.

CHAPTER THREE

Stronger than Wine

Find Solomon for me,” Garin instructed one of the
servant girls as she ran past him.

As far as any guest was concerned,
the coronation ceremony was going splendidly. The aromas of the
seven course feast were wafting out of the kitchens, filling the
halls with the smells of wild boar, aged cheeses, and spiced stews.
Candles lit every corner of the Fortress, making it as bright as
day. Wine flowed freely, making the guests even merrier as they
awaited the coronation of their beloved prince. Unfortunately,
Garin had the feeling that the guests weren’t the only ones
enjoying the drinks tonight.

He wound his way through the
guests as he quietly searched for Ever. It shouldn’t be so hard to
locate the man who was an hour away from being crowned king. Garin
was thankful that none of the guests seemed to suspect anything.
Even before they had begun to partake of the drinks, their faces
had been alight with the hopes and dreams that rested on Ever’s
shoulders.

King Rodrigue had been a good king
by most standards, and Garin had sworn his loyalty to him without
question, just as he had done with Rodrigue’s father, and his
father before him, and their fathers before them. But Everard was
different. Even those who knew little of the incredible power that
flowed through the prince knew he was special.

Ever had always been different.
Though his father had missed the prince’s birth, as he’d been off
on a campaign against one of the border lords, Garin had been
there. The queen’s labor had been difficult and long. Garin had
done his best to keep the Fortress servants productive, though that
was difficult with Louise’s screams echoing down the stone
halls.

One moment, everything had been
normal, but the moment the queen’s wails had stopped, a strange
sensation had filled the air. The Fortress hadn’t felt like this on
the day of Rodrigue’s birth, Garin recalled. In fact, Garin had not
felt anything like this in a long, long time.

“
What are you up to?” he’d
muttered to the Fortress as he made his way to the queen’s
chambers, squeezing between the serving girls as they ran to and
fro with clean blankets and whatever else the midwife ordered.
There had been no words in response, only an even stronger tugging
at his heart, one that bid him to walk more quickly.

As soon as he stood outside her
door, a chambermaid scurried out, nearly running right into him.
“Begging your pardon, Master Garin,” she curtsied, “but I was just
sent to find you. They think you should see this.”

Garin followed her into the room,
the privacy curtains now closing the queen’s bed off from his view.
The midwife had already expertly cleaned the child, and was
swaddling him as Garin approached. No words had needed to be said.
Garin nearly gasped as he’d drawn closer.

Inside each of the child’s eyes
was a bright ring of blue fire against the gray irises, encircling
the pupil. No monarch that Garin had seen, had ever been born with
the strength of the Fortress so evident. Not like this.

What made it even more surprising
was the weak fire Ever’s father, grandfather, and great-grandfather
had all held. And the queen had no fire at all. Garin had known
immediately that this child had a purpose, one that the Fortress
hadn’t given to a king in generations. He had also known it was his
job to help the boy find that purpose, for Rodrigue, as passionate
as he was, would be too blinded by his own agenda to value what
truly set the child apart.

In the week that followed
Rodrigue’s death, Garin’s fears had been rekindled, his concern
that the king’s myopic focus would have disastrous consequences in
one as powerful and sensitive to the world as Ever. With each day
that the prince came closer to being crowned the king he was meant
to be, he had seemed closer to losing himself. Each day, he had
trained harder and eaten less than the one before, and each night
he had nightmares that made him cry out. Each night, he had called
out about the girl.

Garin wasn’t the only one
concerned for the prince. The other servants, though less familiar
with the ways of the Fortress than he, had become increasingly
unnerved by the prince’s erratic behavior as well. And now, when
the prince could not be found an hour before his coronation, Garin
had a sick feeling that it was going to all come crashing down that
night.

“
You sent for me, sir?” Solomon
hastened to the steward’s side.

“
Yes, I did. Do you know where the
prince is?” The man grimaced a bit.

“
Forgive me, sir, but I am not
supposed to tell you.” Ah, so Ever was going to play that game, was
he?

Garin huffed impatiently. “Well
then, why don’t you tell me where he
isn’t
?”

Solomon relaxed a bit. Glancing up
at the king’s study, he said quietly, “The prince is not in his
chambers or with his guests.” He paused before adding, “He is
also
not
drinking
wine
.”

Garin sighed and nodded as he
headed up one of the spiraling staircases, away from the bustle of
the grand entrance, where guests were still being
received.

“
Your Highness,” he cracked the
ornate wooden door, “you’ve never had more than a few glasses of
wine. Are you sure this is a good evening to begin something
stronger?” Opening the door more, he saw Ever out on the small
balcony that overlooked the back lawn. He was slumped against the
door frame, powerful shoulders hunched.

“
The crowds made it too hard to
think.” His words were slightly slurred.

“
Yes, they often do that,” Garin
agreed cautiously as he joined the prince on the
balcony.

Ever’s face was twisted into an
emotion that tugged at the steward’s heart. Despite the savior
Prince Everard had become to many, defeating the dark forces of the
north, Ever, the young prince, was still there underneath, and he
was grieving.

“
But the quiet is even worse.
Still,” Ever finally stood and walked back to his father’s desk, “I
have finally understood. I know now why Nevina led her men to
attack, why my father died. And it wasn’t my fault!” He slammed his
hand down on the desk with a bang.

“
You are right, it wasn’t your
fault.”

“
It was their fault!”

“
Their fault?” An uneasy feeling
stirred in Garin’s heart.

“
Call my advisers, Garin,” Ever
ordered, taking another swig from the flask in his left hand. “I am
going to stop these threats once and for all!”

“
Sire, it is the night of your
coronation. Surely this can wait until tomorrow,” Garin suggested
hopefully.

“
No, it cannot. My father always
said our enemies would be waiting, and he was right. We must cut
them off now!”

With a sigh, the steward did as
Ever bid. It didn’t take long for all of the prince’s advisers to
gather in the king’s study.

“
You all know my father believed
the strength of the Fortress was our great secret in defending our
land,” he began, his words still slightly blended. His advisers
exchanged wary looks, but he went on. “He taught me to look for
weaknesses in our lines, and to search for the chinks in the armor
of our great armies. After much thought, I have realized that the
lack of strength in our armies wasn’t what allowed the enemy to
inflict such vicious casualties.”

“
Your Highness,” General Acelet
stepped forward cautiously, “the darkness in our enemy’s power was
one we hadn’t anticipated.”

But Ever waved him off. “Just hear
what I have to say. Our chink wasn’t in the strength of our men,
but in the weaknesses of our people. We have too long coddled the
unproductive citizens, the weak that inhabit the streets of our
cities and live off the hard work of others.”

“
Sire,” Garin gently reminded him,
“they haven’t lived off of the grain of the Fortress in years. Your
father cut off assistance to the churches years ago.”

“
It doesn’t matter!” Ever turned
to his steward and jabbed a finger at him. “If we did not have
these beggars, these diseased and lame lying in our streets and in
our churches, Nevina never would have dared to attack us. There
wouldn’t have been a weakness to pursue! And I have decided it will
never happen again!” As Ever uttered his next words, Garin felt
sick.

“
I command that our land be purged
of its weakness. You will all go out and make sure that those who
cannot contribute to our strength are no longer a threat to
Destin’s well-being.”

General Acelet’s face was white
and his voice quivered. “You cannot be suggesting that we kill our
sick and crippled!”

“
That is exactly what I’m saying,
General!” Ever bellowed. “You are to begin tonight, after the
coronation.” He strode up to his favorite general unevenly, and
leaned his face so close to the man their noses nearly touched.
“And if you don’t have the manhood to carry out my orders, then I
will have to find someone else who will.”

“
Please, Your Highness,” Dagin,
the horse master, pleaded, “it is late, and the ceremony is about
to begin. Please allow us to wait until the morning to reconsider
and discuss this again.”

“
If one more soul questions my
order, then he will find the same fate as the diseased that will be
soon cleared from the streets,” Ever barked. “Now, it’s time for my
coronation. Garin?” Nodding blankly, Garin struggled to quickly
help Ever into his ceremonial robes, which had been haphazardly
tossed over a chair. The other men each bowed to the prince in
turn, their faces pale and full of fear. They hurried off as
quickly as possible, leaving Garin to his charge.

Garin searched desperately for
something, anything that might change the prince’s mind, but from
the look on Ever’s face, there was much drink left in his body, and
addressing him would only make him angrier. So Garin kept quiet,
but that didn’t mean he would sit idly by as Ever stained his hands
with innocent blood. If Garin could not prevent all of it, perhaps
he could put off some.

As soon as the prince was dressed,
Garin excused himself. Running back to his chambers, he whipped
parchment and a quill from his desk. The ink smeared as he wrote in
haste, but the words were legible. He hailed the first servant he
saw.

“
Give this to Edgar. Tell him to
take it to Ansel Marchand in Soudain. And tell Edgar that if he
values his position here at the Fortress, there must be no delay.
That goes for you, too! Now hurry!”

As soon as his message had been
dispatched, Garin tried to regain control of himself. In all of his
years at the Fortress, he had never felt such a sense of dread wash
over him. The prince who had always been the Fortress’s favored
one, more than any other king he had seen, was quickly bringing
something evil upon them all.

What can I do to stop this?
He begged the Fortress silently as he walked
quickly back to the throne room, where the ceremony was beginning.
As he took his place in the back, he noticed many of the other
advisers returning as well, from errands similar to his, he was
sure.

Ever had somehow managed to get
himself down the aisle and before the holy man without rousing much
suspicion from the guests. Now, as he stood before them all, laying
his hand on the Holy Writ, Garin felt a pang of sorrow. This should
have been an eve of joy, not one of murderous bloodshed. The
kingdom had waited for its beloved prince, its jewel, to become
their sovereign since the day he was born.

Before the prince could utter the
ceremonial vows, however, the priest abruptly withdrew the Holy
Writ and took a step backward. Uneasy murmurs spread through the
crowd as the old man’s face pulled into a frown and his eyes became
engulfed completely with blue flame.

“
Everard Perrin Auguste Fortier,
son of Rodrigue, son of Damien the Fourth, the Fortress has
declared you unfit to wear this crown.” A gasp went up from the
assembly. “From the day of your birth,” the priest continued, “you
were gifted with a strength unknown to other men. Because of your
callousness, however, what has never been done before will take
place tonight.”

The old man raised his head and
turned his fire-laden eyes upon the ceiling. “The Fortress will go
dark, and you, Prince Everard, will be a prisoner of your own
making. Before life can be found in this sacred place once again, a
new strength must be found. What has been broken must be remade.
The one who was strong must be willing to die. Only then can the
Fortress and the kingdom have the protector they
deserve.”

As the priest finished speaking, a
dreadful grinding sound filled the hall. Garin fell to his knees,
holding his ears, trying desperately to block the noise as the
lights began to go out, one by one. The world around him seemed to
rise, and rushing winds burst through the great doors, and as they
swept through the people, each body began to disappear. Then all
was silent, and there was no light.