Before Beauty (6 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

Belle

“
Your eyes are sparkling,” Deline smiled at her
daughter.

Isa beamed back. “It’s perfect.”
And it was. The dress was simple, but it was everything she could
have hoped for. The gauzy white made her feel like she was floating
in a cloud. Her arms were covered in lace, and her veil made the
world look like the clouds filled the room. Best of all, the long
gown covered all but the toes of her shoes. If she stood still and
buried her left hand in the layers of white material, it was
impossible to see the crook of her ankle or how her wrist turned
inward.

“No, Baby,” her mother wiped a
tear from her eye. “
You
are perfect.”

Isa fought the tears that
threatened to spill down her own face. She still could not believe
that this happiness should be hers. At one time, she’d thought that
it could never would be.

It was hard to imagine that just
months ago, she’d been running for her life. After receiving a
midnight letter from a friend at the Fortress, Isa’s father had
dragged the family out of bed, whispering severely that there were
to be no candles or fires lit. Deline had wept as Isa’s father and
brother had bundled her up and buried her beneath a load of
supplies in the horse cart and fled the city in the dark of night.
For three days, they had waited up in a deserted mountain cottage
before Deline had been able to send word that Isa would be safe
again. The Fortress had gone dark, and the royal order had never
been carried out.

Still, when they had returned, the
neighbors said Ansel should send his daughter with the Caregivers.
It had been a close call. While years had passed since the Fortress
monarchs had shown true interest in the welfare of its poor,
everyone had hoped their new king would bring about a more merciful
reign. Instead, Isa had very nearly been killed in her sleep by the
first edict of the young prince. No one knew when the Fortress
would awaken, the neighbors said, and then what would become of
Isa? No, her father had argued, much to Isa’s relief. Isa would
stay.

It wasn’t that Isa disliked the
Caregivers. They seemed kind enough. Merchants by trade, they would
come with great varieties of foreign wares, many which her father
sold in his mercantile. They did not trade only for money, however.
Everyone knew the Caregivers by the black metal rings they wore.
Those rings, they claimed, were a sign of asylum for anyone who
needed sanctuary. Unbeknownst to the king and his elite, those who
could not provide for themselves could be smuggled out with the
Caregivers to their own country, where they were given fitting
jobs, food, and shelter.

This was all fine and good, but it
had always bothered Isa that those who left were not allowed to
contact their families. It was too dangerous for letters, even,
Marko said.

Marko was one of the Caregivers
who visited Soudain most. An old family friend, Ansel often
purchased his goods for the mercantile. Marko was a good-natured
man, and ever since she was a small child, he had never come to the
mercantile without sweets for Isa and her brother and sister. He
was fiercely built for a tradesman, and would have frightened her
if she hadn’t known him for so long. His long hair was always
pulled back into a tight knot at the back of his head, and he
smelled of campfire smoke. Marko had visited not long after the
Fortress went dark, and he had also strongly advised Ansel and
Deline to send Isa with him.

“
It is too dangerous to leave her
here!” he had argued, gesturing in the direction of the Fortress
with one of his large arms.

“
I will not send my daughter off
by herself to a place I have never been, and will likely never
see,” Ansel had answered his friend in a steady voice.

“
You could come with her! We would
happily take you back with us, all of you!”

“
It would be too conspicuous.” Her
father had shaken his head. “I’m on Soudain’s city council. They
would notice when I left. No, I will care for my daughter. She will
be safe with her family.”

That had been the end of that
discussion, and Isa was grateful. After a few weeks, the Fortress
had remained dark, and the urgings of well-meaning family and
friends had stopped. Life had begun to return to normal. Well,
better than normal for Isa. Raoul had asked her to marry
him.

Isa smiled to herself as her
mother repinned her dress one more time. Tonight, everything would
change. Tonight, Raoul would return from his journey with his
father, and she would become the wife of the future chancellor. She
imagined, as she often had in the last few months, what it would
feel like to see him again. They’d exchanged letters, she more than
he, several times since he had gone. His father kept him busy with
political meetings and social events, so his letters were far and
few between, but such was the life of a chancellor. Isa refused to
be bothered by his full schedule. It was simply a pleasure to write
to him, something most women wouldn’t have been able to do. But
tonight, she would have no need for quill or paper. This would be
the night she would wed the one who had been able to see her in
spite of her brokenness.

“
Now, we have no time for crying.”
Deline wiped both her face and her daughter’s. “The guests will be
here soon, and I can already hear your aunt ordering everyone
around. I will be back up when it’s time.”

Isa watched as her mother left,
and felt a familiar pang. She would miss her mother. Most women
would have been nearly beside themselves with worry, trying
desperately to get their grown daughters married, particularly if
they were Isa’s age and still unwed. But not Deline.

“
You’ll always have a home here,”
Deline had told Isa on the day she had gotten engaged. “No matter
how old you are or how many years pass, you can always come
home.”

With those words in mind, Isa
carefully practiced the wedding dance steps as she waited
impatiently. She had decided to forgo her sturdy walking boots in
favor of the beautiful white slippers her father had commissioned
the tailor to make for her. They would make dancing more difficult,
but she was determined not to give anyone a reason to smirk or
whisper. She would be as beautiful and graceful as any bride this
night.

“
Isa,” Deline finally opened the
door, “he’s here. It’s time.”

Taking a shaky breath, Isa tested
her ankle once more, before beginning down the stairs. It seemed
like the whole city was there, crowded into her parents’ home.
Friends, neighbors, and family smiled at her as she slowly
descended, but they weren’t the ones she was looking
for.

Her groom stood by the door next
to his father. Straight backed, he held his head high. His brown
coat was clean, despite having just returned from a long journey,
and his black boots shined. Slicked back with oil, his neatly
trimmed hair matched his boots. What she was most interested in,
however, were his eyes. Dark brown, nearly black they were so dark,
they reflected the light of the dying sun as sunset passed through
the shuttered room. And they were looking right back at
her.

As soon as she saw him, she
remembered just how handsome he was, why all of the other girls had
been so jealous when he had proposed to her. That a crippled girl
should have the son of the chancellor was unthinkable. She, who
couldn’t walk evenly, didn’t deserve the responsibilities of being
his wife. And yet, he had chosen her.

Isa walked as carefully as she
could, making sure not to teeter in front of the crowd, until she
was finally standing before him.

His dark eyes were wide and his
face was taut, as though he were afraid. She knew the feeling.
Cautiously, she curtsied.

“
My lord.” She murmured the first
words of ceremony, just as she’d been practicing. “May my life
strength be bound to yours.”

“
Isabelle,” he whispered, “we need
to talk. Alone.”

Isa stared back at him,
momentarily unsure of what to say or do. Not only had he failed to
give the ceremonial response, but he’d called her Isabelle. He
hadn’t called her Isabelle since they were children. Something, she
quickly realized, must be very wrong.

Nodding slightly, she began to
tremble as she turned to walk to the back door of the house.
Whispers and gasps went up as they walked. In addition to all her
other woes, Isa miserably admitted to herself that wearing the
silken slippers had been a bad idea as she struggled towards the
door. After a few slow steps, Raoul stiffly offered her his arm.
Silently, everyone watched them leave.

Isa’s mind was spinning. They
should have begun the ceremonial dance by now. She felt as if she
were stepping out of one of her daydreams, and into a nightmare. As
they sat on the garden’s low stone wall, she realized she didn’t
want to hear what he had to say.

“
Isabelle, we’ve been apart for
some time now,” Raoul began slowly, his gentle voice strained. Isa
nodded silently, staring at him with fear knocking her heart about
in her chest.

“
You know my father took me along
so I would learn about how other chancellors and governors lived.
He says that living here can sometimes blind us to the traditions
that people of our station must carry on. It is too easy to get
wrapped up in what we desire for ourselves, and what we truly need
in order to best serve the people.”

Isa nodded again. She had known
this, as he had written about it in one of his first
letters.

“
We saw many other administrators
while we were gone. Eight, actually. Some lived like lords, and
others had little more than their people. But they all had had one
thing in common.” Raoul dropped his eyes the ground. He didn’t go
on.

It took Isa a moment to realize
that he was talking about her. “Their wives,” she whispered. Raoul
nodded. Isa had to swallow hard before she could speak again. “So,
you are saying that I’m unfit to be a chancellor’s
wife.”

“
Now wait–” he began to correct
her, but she held her hand up angrily.

“
I can read and write, which is
more than you can say for many men in this wretched city. I can
figure the sums of the treasury better than you can! How is that an
unsuitable match for a chancellor? What more could you possibly
want?”

“
I need a woman who could rule in
my stead if something happened!”

“
No! No, what you mean is you want
a mindless ninny who can stand by your side without having to lean
on you for support! A flawless flirt who can charm visiting
politicians with her grace and allure! You want a woman without a
crooked hand or a lame foot!”

“
Belle–”

“
Don’t call me that!” She was
shouting now. “Just tell me one thing. Was this your idea or your
father’s?”

He stared at her for a long moment
before softly answering. “It was my father’s wish for me to see how
others lived, but it was my choice to live like them. I want what’s
best for this city.”

“
Then take what you want and go.”
Isa’s father was suddenly beside him. “But before you do, I want
you to know that neither you nor your father are ever welcome in my
mercantile or my house ever again.” Ansel wore a look of deep
hatred Isa had never seen before. “Men without honor have no place
in my home.”

With a weak nod, Raoul looked
silently down at her hand. Isa realized what he wanted, and angry
tears spilled down her face as she yanked the ring off her hand and
shoved it at him. No words seemed to come to the young man as he
stared down at the silver band, so after a long moment, he simply
turned and walked out the back gate. Isa and her father sat in
silence for an immeasurable amount of time before she was finally
brave enough to speak.

“
Is everyone still
inside?”

“
No, your mother cleared them out
after I asked Chancellor Dupont what his son was up to.”

Isa nodded, and before she knew
it, her father had drawn her close and held her tightly. She could
hold back no more, and before long, she realized she was wailing.
She’d felt pain before, like the day the prince had shoved her into
the way of the rearing horse. She’d felt grief when she’d realized
that she could no longer dance. She had felt sorrow when the other
children left her alone to find more suitable play spots, places
she could not walk to or climb.

But Raoul had always been the one
to tell her things would be well, to stay with her when the others
had run off. He had been the one to ask her to dance at all the
town festivals when no other young men dared to. Raoul had been the
one to nickname her Belle. He had believed she was worth marrying,
despite her handicaps. But he had lied. And none of the pain she
had ever known compared to this.

Isa cried into her father’s shirt
until she could no longer sit up straight. It wasn’t until she was
tucked into her own bed that she realized she must have dozed off.
She was still in her white dress, but she didn’t bother getting up
to change. Instead, she lay in bed and listened to her parents
through her little attic floor.

“
Did he say why?” her mother
asked.

“
Some nonsense about how it was
acceptable for his son to befriend a crippled girl, and even ask
her to go dancing sometimes.” Ansel’s voice was low, but Isa could
hear the dishes they were collecting clatter and bang much louder
than necessary. “But as Raoul’s father, it was his responsibility
to direct him towards important matters, now that he’s a man. He
didn’t say as much, but I can tell you right now that Isa’s the
reason he took him on the trip, to show him what a chancellor’s
wife ought to be.” At that moment, a dish shattered and Ansel
cursed. Isa’s parents were silent for a long time before Deline
spoke again.