Before Beauty (12 page)

As Isa managed to swallow the dry
biscuit and old apple left on her bedside table by invisible hands,
she realized her own clothes had been returned to her during the
night. After getting dressed, Isa decided the first thing to do
would be to find the Fortress library. In the millennium since the
Fortress had come into being, someone must have written made
records about the great power it wielded.

“
Please take me to the Fortress
library,” Isa addressed the shadows. Instead of the familiar pushes
and pulls she had grown somewhat accustomed to, however, she felt
all of the shadows disappear. Surprised and irritated, Isa shook
her head and begrudgingly wandered out of her room on her
own.

She wasn’t quite brave enough to
look for the room all alone just yet. So, heading to the front of
the stronghold instead, Isa saw the grand entrance for the first
time.

Covered in dust and cobwebs, giant
columns soared above her, supporting monstrous arches that were
loftier than any church steeple in the city. The ceiling was so
high and so dark that Isa couldn’t make out any of its details at
the very top. In fact, the interior was nearly as dark as it had
been the night before, as all the tapestries were closed. She was
again glad that she had arrived by the back entrance. For coming in
through this grand hall would surely have intimidated
her.

As she cautiously approached the
towering doors, they opened for her without a sound, revealing the
relief of the outdoors. Most of the snow from the storm two days
earlier had melted, making Isa’s walk to the stable much
easier.

Isa spent as long as she could out
in the stable, feeding and brushing her animal. It was comforting
to breathe in his familiar scent. She talked to him as she worked,
telling him what a good horse he was, and how he wouldn’t believe
the things she had seen the night before. They went for a quick
outing around the grounds, but Isa was too nervous to take him very
far. As much as she enjoyed it, however, eventually there was no
more she could do for her friend, so she put him back in the
stables and returned to the winding outdoor paths to explore the
front lawn.

The Fortress lawn had at one point
been the most spectacular arrangement of gardens and statues one
could ever hope to see. But now, beneath the melting snow, the
flowers lay brown and brittle, as did the trees. Everything was
overgrown or wasting away. Isa wandered through the ivy covered
statues of wolves and the dying shrubs that were wrapped around
them, without knowing where she was headed.

No birds sang and no chipmunks
twittered. There weren’t even the sounds of bugs as she moved
through the gardens. Isa thought back to her childhood visits of
the Fortress, trying to remember if the gardens had always been
this quiet, or if the curse had made them that way. After wandering
through several of the smaller gardens without finding respite
though, she had nearly turned back to the stables, when one garden
in particular caught her eye. It was a rose garden.

The bushes had been allowed to
grow tall, and had been planted in such a way as to provide walls
of privacy for those who would walk the paths laid in stone between
them. Isa walked about the entire circular garden, and found that
there were four paths that wound towards the center, one stretching
inward from each direction. Despite the vines being brown and dry
without a flower to be seen, Isa found herself drawn to their
beauty. She cautiously started down the path on the north side
towards the middle.

The garden itself was made of
rosebushes that stood at least three feet higher than Isa’s head.
Once Isa had followed the winding path in, she found a small
courtyard in the center of the garden, large enough it could have
fit her new bed inside of it. A bench made of multicolored stones
sat along the edge of the tall, once pruned bushes, where it would
have been hidden from the sun had the sun been shining.

Instead of a floor of cobblestone,
as the garden paths had, there lay the most beautiful stone mosaic
Isa had ever seen. A rose larger than Isa was tall had been
carefully laid out with colorful stones. Agate gave the rose its
shades of red, while light and dark green Jade pieces filled the
leaves and stem. The giant rose was encircled by blue Angelite and
white opal. Isa couldn’t help but to kneel reverently and touch the
piece of art.

Every single stone had been
polished down to make the surface perfectly flat. Suddenly, a small
flame of rebellion was ignited inside of Isa, and the longer she
looked at it, the more the flame grew. If she couldn’t go home, and
she couldn’t visit the annals, then she would dance.

Slowly, she walked to the center
of the mosaic. The center was deep enough that Isa felt
delightfully hidden by the tall bushes, not that there were many
people about to watch. Still, the privacy was delicious. Isa had no
idea as to what she could expect of her body. It had been a long
time since she had danced. Gingerly, she extended her right arm.
Then, as well as she could, she pointed her left foot.

Before she had finished the first
twirl, Isa’s ankle gave out, and she collapsed into a heap on the
cold stone. Angry tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined how
her former peers would have laughed at her if they could see her
now. Her neighbors would have shaken their heads sympathetically,
and even her parents would have urged her to stop before she hurt
herself. The shame was still just as strong as it had been the day
the healer told Isa she would never dance again.

But they aren’t here,
a voice inside her whispered. It didn’t matter if
the girls she’d once danced with would laugh, and it didn’t matter
how many times she fell. Isa was all alone now, and there was no
one to stop her. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she stood up
resolutely and stretched her arms out again. A small star of hope
began to glimmer within her heart as she slowly recalled the steps
and turns in time.

Her form was stiff, and nothing
about her movements looked effortless or graceful. Her left wrist
couldn’t lay straight, and her ankle was too weak for the leaps.
And yet, in spite of herself, Isa began to smile. Sweat ran down
her back and soaked her dress, and her hair fell out of place. With
each movement, however, her body began to recall the fluid energy
that had once flowed through it. Even if just a moment, nothing in
the world could have made her happier.

Isa danced until her ankle nearly
gave out. Exhausted, she fell onto the stone bench to rest. Only
then did she realize that one of the shadows must have brought her
a midday meal. It was simple food and as it had been that morning,
so dry that she could hardly swallow it, but Isa’s hunger drove her
to eat it all.

“
Thank you,” Isa called out to
whatever phantom had thought to bring her food all the way out in
the rose garden. She expected no reply but was pleasantly surprised
when a quick breeze gently brushed her cheek. Once she was done,
she knew her ankle would last no longer, so Isa stood up and limped
back to her room, where she dozed until the shadows awakened her in
time for supper.

Isa had been dreading supper with
the prince all day, trying not to think of it as she went about her
other activities. But now, she could ignore it no longer. She
steeled herself, and donned a mask of composure. Despite his great
fall from the man he had been, the prince had somehow maintained an
air of supreme superiority during their exchange the day before.
Isa’s manners were by no means lacking, but court etiquette was
something she had never learned, and she would not give him another
reason to look down upon her.

As the shadows began to brush her
hair, a large bath on the other side of the hearth was drawn. Isa
hadn’t noticed it there before. A warm bath would be nice, she
thought, until she walked over to it and realized the water was
just as dirty as the rest of the Fortress was.

She balked. “You cannot mean for
me to wash in that. I’ll be filthier when I get out than when I get
in.”

In response, some brave shadow
snatched up a rag, dipped it in the water, and began to vigorously
scrub one of her arms. Isa let out a little cry as the cold water
touched her skin. In response, other shadows began to do the same.
Apparently, her unwillingness to get in was not a problem for them.
Muttering at the shadows, Isa cringed throughout the entire bath,
snatching away the drying cloth when it was finally presented to
her. Then, as she had been the night before, Isa was dragged over
to the wardrobe of musty dresses.

“
Where is the one I wore last
night?” She gave a doubtful look at the rest of the fancy dresses
that hanged before her. Her answer was a light shove that brought
her one step closer to the wardrobe. “Just so you know,” she
grumbled, rifling through the piles of lace and frills, “I am not
keen on all this finery. Your prince brought me here as a servant,
and a servant’s wear is much more what I would prefer to appear
in.”

The shadows paid no heed to her
speech, however. They snatched the gown that Isa had chosen out of
her hands, and then pushed her over to the writing desk, which had
been quickly transformed into a vanity. Deft, invisible hands
pulled her hair up into intricate curls and tucked them neatly into
one another, while other sets of hands did their best to brush the
smudges off the burgundy and cream dress. Another draped a necklace
of dull red Agate around her neck.

When the shadows were finally
satisfied with her hair and jewelry and gown, Isa looked around for
her boots. Her heart fell into her stomach when she realized that
the only shoes she could find were red velvet slippers.

“
Where are my boots?” she cried
out. The invisible hands, still adjusting her hair here and there,
paused, but then continued as if she hadn’t spoken. Her voice got a
bit louder as she asked again. “Where are my boots? You cannot mean
for me to wear these!”

When she again received no
response, Isa pulled up her skirts to reveal her crooked ankle. “I
can hardly walk without those boots! I don’t know how you expect me
to get to supper if I cannot walk! Now please, give me my boots
back!”

But the boots never appeared, and
nothing Isa said or threatened to do made them reappear. Finally,
she was bullied out of the room without them. Defeated, she took
three times as long to reach the dining hall as she would have if
her own boots had been worn.

Prince Everard was already seated
by the time Isa arrived. She could tell by the gentle windy shoves
to her back that she was late, but she didn’t care. Perhaps that
would teach them to think twice the next time they wanted to give
her such foolish shoes.

“
Isabelle,” Everard stood slowly
when she entered the room.

“
Your Highness.” Isa gave him the
best curtsy she could manage before collapsing into the chair after
her long trek. When they were both seated, unseen servants placed
food on the table before them. The light was a little better in
this room because of the multiple fireplaces that were lit, and the
candles that were scattered about the table, but that didn’t do
much to alter the heaviness of the mood that filled the space
around them.

Isa supposed it was probably
polite for the guest to praise something about the home or the food
or the décor to the host, but Isa could think of nothing to say.
Still angry about the boots, and reminded of how much the prince
irritated her, Isa stared sullenly at her plate, sneaking angry
looks at her host every so often.

He still wore the long, thick
cloak. Isa presumed it was to cover a nearly skeletal body that
would have matched his face and neck. His dark gold hair had been
cut much shorter than it had been the night before, and it now
shined weakly in the firelight. The deep hollows under his eyes
made it look as if he had constant bruises. It was hard to imagine
that this man had ever fought against any foe and lived to tell the
tale.

Everard was the one to finally
break the silence. His voice was distant, but surprisingly polite,
very different in tone than it had been the night before. “Your
quarters are comfortable, I presume?”

“
Yes, Your Highness.”

“
And the servants have provided
you with what you’ve needed?”

“
I suppose you could say that.”
Isa glared at the ground, thinking of how much her ankle already
ached after walking from the bedroom. Another silence ensued as Isa
tried to eat the bland stew that had been set before them, the
clinking of their spoons making the lack of conversation even
louder. Eventually, Everard took a deep breath before finally
asking a question Isa could not give a simple answer to.

“
So what do you think of the
Fortress so far?”

Isa’s face began to burn as all
the emotions that had been boiling inside of her rose to the
surface. “It would be easier to fulfill my purpose here if I were
allowed to visit your library, but your servants this morning
refused to assist me when I asked,” she snapped.

For a moment, the prince stared at
her, surprise making his gray eyes look even larger in his gaunt
face than usual.

“
You think you are to break the
spell by reading about it?” His musical voice had a hint of
amusement to it that annoyed Isa even more.