Blinding Beauty (11 page)

“
I heard some of them whispering
about it, but no one seems to do much more than that.” Launce
frowned as he realized this group, more than any, should have been
avidly pursuing justice. The contest was full of knights, princes,
and even kings, many young and raring to show the princess their
might. And yet, last night they had cowered in their beds. “What do
you know of it?”

“
Oh, as little as you, is my
guess. But,” he leaned in and whispered, “take it from someone who
has seen a big world and many peoples. I’ve been watching this
bunch, and I knew as soon as I saw you that you are different.” He
nodded once and stood, gathering Launce’s empty bread
linens.

As soon as Brokk had excused
himself to return to his duties, Launce decided to try searching
for the magic. He had been unsure before, but comforted by Brokk’s
kind words, he walked purposefully towards the stables, ignoring as
best as he could the looks of disdain others cast his way. He
considered putting on the tunic that Everard had given him, but
imagining the look of satisfaction he would see on Everard’s smug
face was enough to keep it tucked under the straw mattress and
safely out of sight.

Considering Brokk’s words, Launce
decided to begin at the bottom, with the floor. He must look
addled, he thought to himself, bending down just inches from the
ground to stare at it. But it was all he could think to do. What
was he even looking for? He’d convinced himself he would be able to
sense it, the way he could sense Isa’s power when she was nearby.
When he was near his sister, it felt as if the air was charged, as
though lightning had just struck, and everything around him stood
on edge. Surely it would be the same way, or at least, similar in
sense.

“
It’s kind of you to offer so
readily. My boots do need to be shined.”

Launce looked up to see the man
from the day before, the one who had mistaken him for a servant.
Launce’s face flushed with indignation, but before he could
respond, a new voice called out from behind him.

“
Leave him be,
Absalom.”

The new speaker was somewhat
shorter than average, but everything he lacked in height was made
up for in muscle. Visible even beneath his fine tunic, the man had
one of the broadest chests Launce had ever seen.

“
Stay out of my affairs,
Randolph.”

“
Do you think it really wise to
provoke King Everard’s kin?” The strong man, Randolph, stood beside
Launce and crossed his arms. “You’re being a fool. I am merely
trying to keep you alive.” He grimaced. “Our own king will have my
head if I return without you.”

Absalom glared down at Launce, who
returned the expression. In the end, however, he said nothing more,
simply stalked away as he muttered. Not waiting to be acknowledged,
Randolph gave Launce a curt nod before moving on
himself.

How did Isa stand living around
these people? As he returned to searching the floor for he knew not
what, Launce vowed again to himself that this was the last time she
talked him into accompanying her anywhere.

Two hours later, Launce was hungry
again, his eyes were sore from getting dust and dirt kicked in
them, and he was no closer to finding an answer. Everard would just
have to sneak into the stables against the king’s wishes and search
for it himself. Just as Launce stood and stepped into the afternoon
sunlight, however, a sparkle caught his eye. Leaning down, where
he’d seen it, he searched again, this time with gusto.

The particle of shine was so small
he nearly missed it, and he had to search to find it again. Lifting
up a small handful of the dirt, Launce examined it in the light.
This time, not one but dozens of minuscule sparkles glittered as he
turned his hand in the light. It looked almost like glass. When he
rubbed the dust between his fingers, however, all doubt fled, and
he knew he’d found exactly what he had been looking for.

A slight shudder moved through him
as the power of the glass rippled out. It was small, but strong.
Another sparkle caught his eye on his shirt. And his trousers. And
in his boots. The more he searched, the more he realized he was
coated in the powdery glass. Rushing back inside, he yanked his bag
from the wall and held it up to the window beside his bunk. Sure
enough, it was covered as well.

How has he missed something that
covered every inch of the stables?

It was only then that Launce
remembered the footsteps from the night before. What if it hadn’t
been a contestant going to relieve himself? What if it had been
someone else? Launce nearly broke into a run to find Everard, but
stopped himself just before leaving the stable.

No. He would do this alone. Then,
for once, maybe he would escape that self-righteous look Everard
always gave before he barked out more orders.

Launce spent the rest of the
afternoon planning. His greatest concern was with positioning.
Where could he go that wouldn’t be covered with the glass dust?
Based on what Everard had said, the dust must have been what was
putting everyone into such a deep sleep.

Try looking from a different
perspective, Brokk had said. It had worked to help Launce find the
dust. Now he needed some way to escape it.

But of course. The roof! He would
just have to make sure no one else saw him take his place after
night fell.

Finishing the day felt like an
eternity without someone to talk to, but finally, evening came.
There was no ball tonight, only a simple supper served outside the
stables. Once he’d pushed his way through the supper line, and
inhaled what little food he did get, Launce made his
escape.

Shimmying up the side of the
stables didn’t take him long. The roof was sloped, but not enough
to make it impossible to lay upon. To his relief, there was no
dust. Only once he was up, however, did it occur to Launce that he
probably should have brought some sort of weapon. Not that he would
have known how to do much good with it.

It wasn’t long before the guard
arrived. As twilight faded, however, into the warmth of a lazy
early autumn evening, with singing cicadas and croaking toads
nearby, Launce had to shake himself often. His hiding position
wasn’t very comfortable, nor was it ideal for rousing oneself, as
he laid flat against the red tile shingles with his body on a
decline and his hands clinging to their edges. Launce had hoped it
would keep him hidden, but if he fell asleep, he wouldn’t be doing
anyone any good.

A movement caught his eye. It was
too dark to see much, but it looked as though someone had come
through the same side door as the one Launce had noticed opening
the night before. He had little time to concentrate on it, however,
because out of the corner of his eye, the largest creature he’d
ever seen in his life was charging straight for him.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

Teas and
Tempers

“
You could
call on Queen Monica,” Ever suggested after he returned from his
early morning errand.

“
Do I have an official
invitation?”

“
Well, no, but it would convey
Destin’s good will,” Ever had said as he scratched his head. But
Isa could see right through him.

“
If my presence is not officially
requested anywhere this morning,” Isa replied firmly, “then I’m not
going.” And nothing Ever said could change her mind. Isa could see
that her determination to hide in their chambers confused her
husband, but her decision was simply something he would have to
accept.

Being in public was easy for Ever,
so easy that Isa often envied him the way it buoyed his spirits and
seemed to fill him with even more of his endless energy. Explaining
her need for quiet was impossible. She had tried. He just couldn’t
comprehend how exhausted she became by being surrounded by so many
people, even when her unpredictable fire wasn’t upsetting their
fellow guests. But after her upset of the night before, venturing
out to socialize, as Ever called it, was asking too much. She
needed time to think.

Sleep had come a little easier
once Ever had assured her that the beautiful woman he’d spoken with
was like a sister to him. Still, Isa knew there was something her
husband was hiding. If the southern queen had her own version of
strength, then there was a good chance they had been speaking of
Rafael’s strange behavior. Ever was more unruffled than he had been
since the Fortress curse had been broken. But why wasn’t he telling
her? Isa might be struggling with her strength, but she was still
the queen.

And so Isa spent the day with
Cerise, laughing about their childhood pranks and hiding behind the
thick wooden door as they sipped tea, trying to ignore the absence
of her husband. As she had expected, however, he was up before
sunrise, and spent the entire day running about the palace,
interrogating whatever poor courtiers he thought might aid his
cause, and muttering about how base it was for Rafael to give
himself such a hangover that he couldn’t attend to his subjects.
During one of his many quick stops back at their chambers for this
parchment or that gift for a dignitary, she had asked where Launce
was. His response that Launce was assisting him surprised her, but
Isa decided to simply leave them be. If the two men were somehow
getting along, she wouldn’t stand in the way.

Everard’s determination to help
her enjoy the company of her fellow royals couldn’t stay dormant
for long though. Isa cringed immediately when he waltzed in that
afternoon with a sealed note from Queen Monica, and a triumphant
smile on his face.

Isa glared at him while she broke
the seal, half expecting to find his handwriting inside. Written on
the finest of parchment in a scrawling hand that was most decidedly
not her husband’s, however, the note read:

Queen Isabelle of
Destin,

Queen Monica requests your
presence at her tea on the morrow upon the ninth hour. Your
addition to the queens’ company will be most welcome, where our
circle finds itself eager to know you more.

In the Maker’s
Blessings,

Queen Monica

“
You put her up to this,” Isa said
upon reading the note. But Ever held his hands up above his head, a
look of utter innocence on his face.

“
Upon my honor, I did not.” He
tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile as she read the note again
in dismay. “Believe it or not, some women do actually meet together
to become friends. Not every woman interprets tea invitations as
insults.”

“
Not every woman has the ability
to accidentally frighten her peers after they insult her,” Isa
said, scowling.

“
Isa, it would be an insult not
to—”

“
I will go, Ever! But that doesn’t
mean I have to enjoy myself.”

And so Isa awoke the next morning
with no small amount of fluttering in her stomach. Memories of the
crowd’s faces at the ball as she struggled to put out her flame
haunted her as she ordered herself several times to get out of bed.
It was a good thing Ever had gone so early. There would have been
no happy smile to greet him today.

“
Which dress will it be today?”
Cerise held the wardrobe open as she and Isa leaned in to
scrutinize the mountain of dresses Gigi had sent. Isa bit her lip
for a moment before annoyance and disgust from the ball’s events
made up her mind for her.

“
Ladies Beata and Jadzia and
Princess Damira will be there. Pick the most stuffy, uncomfortable,
insensible dress you can find.” Isa turned sharply and moved to the
full-length mirror to criticize her reflection as Cerise rummaged
through the wardrobe. She tried to avoid, however, looking directly
at her eyes. She didn’t need to see them to know their fire wasn’t
any brighter than it had been the day before when she had checked.
Or the days or weeks before that. It had been her hope that after
the incident with the ball, perhaps they might glow a little
brighter. But it was not to be. They were as dull as
ever.

“
Those women must have done
something awful to merit such a gown from you.” Cerise’s voice was
muffled, but Isa could hear a smile in it. So Isa told her friend
what the women had said.

“
What?” Cerise popped her head out
of the clothing, gray eyes flashing.

With a sigh, Isa related the
ball’s events again. The awful ordeal still didn’t sound much
better, but at least she could speak of it without weeping this
time. No. Now she was angry.

When she finished, Cerise shook
her head in disbelief. Then her eyes lit up. Hurrying over to a
trunk in the corner, Cerise pulled out a small wooden
box.

“
Gigi gave these to me for the
final ball, but I don’t think it would hurt to use a few of them
today.” She opened the box to reveal a pile of hairpins with bright
blue jewels at the top. Cerise scooped out a small handful and
began to pin them into Isa’s hair. Usually, Isa protested such
finery. It still felt strange to wear jewels to daily occasions
such as tea. There would be no complaining this time, however, as
Cerise expertly pinned the baubles into the curls of her
hair.

Not long after, a servant knocked
on the door to escort the two women to the queen’s tea room. Isa
was disappointed to know that Cerise would be leaving her once she
was properly settled in with the queen’s party, but she was
grateful that her friend could at least accompany her
there.