Blinding Beauty (22 page)

Thoughts such as: was the glass
truly unsafe, or was it simply something pretty?

“
We need to talk.” Isa’s whisper
was low and dangerous, and though she didn’t raise her head to look
at him, he knew the pained expression was long gone from her face.
Without waiting for him to respond, Isa began to walk away from the
king’s dais, where they had been standing, and towards the hall
that led to their chambers. Without a word, Ever followed her.
Since they’d been married, she had never spoken to him that way
before. Her silver cloak billowed out behind her as she walked. She
held her chin up heroically, but he didn’t miss the tremble of her
jaw.

Before Isa, Ever had never
struggled with being direct. His father, King Rodrigue, had been
insistent about speaking the truth as plainly and candidly as
possible. It disallowed confusion, he always said, making
communication efficient and useful. Ever had learned to speak the
same way with his generals and soldiers, and they with him. But
since Isa had come into his life, Ever had struggled with words in
a way he never had before. It wasn’t that he wanted to hide the
truth from her. He simply didn’t know how to share it in a way that
didn’t sound callous or brash. She wasn’t one of his military
officers, nor was she a servant to be ordered about. She was good
and kind and ethereal in a way he’d never known anyone to be
before. Speaking boldly and directly with her felt as though it
might break her, as though she were made of glass. It was the
reason he had not been able to speak of her struggle with her power
yet. It was why he couldn’t bring himself to tell her how great a
threat the enchanter was to them all.

Isa approached their door and
stood silently as Norbert opened it for them, and the surprise in
the old guard’s eyes told Ever that the difference in Isa’s
countenance was not imagined on his part. As soon as the door was
shut behind them, Isa turned to face him. Her eyes reflected the
light of the single lit candle in the room, making them look like
those of a large cat.

“
Why would you do that?” Her voice
was still pitched low and menacing, but the slightest quiver gave
her away.

“
It was dangerous.”

“
Was it really?”

Ever stared at her, carefully
weighing his next words. He wasn’t sure where she was going, but he
knew he was in perilous waters. Even in the dark, her midnight eyes
flashed, and her breathing was deep and unsteady. She stared back
at him, the expression on her face pained and ancient.

“
If you want another rose, I’ll
get it for—”

“
It is not about the rose, Ever!”
Isa’s shout exploded from her like thunder from unseen
lightning.

“
Then what is it about?” Now he
was shouting, too.

“
You never ask!” she cried. “You
just carry on as though you have no queen, and I have no ability to
make choices! You assume I am weak! Locking me in my
room?”

“
I am trying to protect
you!”

“
I am not a child!” Isa snatched
the jeweled tiara off of her head and thrust it out at him. “In
case you forgot, there is a reason I have this.”

“
If you were able to fulfill the
duties that came with that crown, I wouldn’t have to treat you this
way.”

“
Perhaps, if you ever spent a
moment away from the kingdom to actually see me, we would know why
I’m failing. Sometimes...” Isa shook her head and held her hands up
helplessly, “I feel like marrying me was simply the easiest way for
you to get everything back.”

“
What other choice did I
have?”

As soon as the words left his
mouth, Ever knew they were wrong. The silence that filled the room,
was stifling, and he wished with everything in him that he could
take them back. But as he watched her drink them in, watched her
face strain not to show the tears, he knew it was too
late.

“
None, Ever. You had no choice
whatsoever.”

The air was suddenly too thick,
and Ever turned before he choked on an apology that would only make
things worse, stomping out the door before Norbert could keep it
from slamming. He could hear the echoes of the merriment down the
hall, but in no mood for a party of any sort, Ever escaped through
one of the servants’ exits.

***

The night
was cool in a cutting way, hinting at a difficult winter to come.
Ever drew his cloak more tightly around him, unwilling to even
consider returning to his chambers for his warmer coverings. That
would mean seeing Isa’s tear-streaked cheeks, and facing the depths
to which he had cut her. What had possessed him to use such cruel
words? He hadn’t meant to say them. They had simply tumbled from
his tongue, as though some menacing imp had discovered all his
meanness and awful secret thoughts that he worked so hard to rid
himself of, and dumped them out of his mind and into his
mouth.

Of course he’d wanted it all back.
Namely, he had wanted her back. She had become his world. She and
the Fortress were all he had ever wanted. Marrying her hadn’t been
an option, but a necessity. It was like being asked if one wanted
air to breathe.

Why the blazes hadn’t he said that
instead?

Ever paused as he reached the path
split. The red pebbled path he was on now continued down to the
stables. The thin dirt path on the right, however, led down to the
beach. Though he was tempted to check in on Launce, as he was sure
the young man had left the festivities early as well, the roar of
the ocean called to him, offering to wash away the stain of his
wrongs.

“
What am I supposed to do?” he
groaned. The Fortress didn’t answer, but he felt the stirrings
within his heart that told him he knew the answer. “I’m just trying
to protect her,” he argued back. “And the kingdom. I don’t know how
else to do this.” When no audible answer came, he began his trudge
down to the beach.

The Maker had seen it fit to
bequeath the Fortress’s powers on Isa in the beginning. Ever had
seen the bright blue flames burning in her eyes as he’d vowed to
love and cherish her on their wedding day. How marvelous those eyes
had been as they’d sparkled with hope and joy. And they had
continued to flame with vigor until about a month after the
wedding. Twenty-seven days, to be exact.

Spring had ended early that year,
and the hot season had jumped right in to take its place. The day
was particularly sticky when he’d first noticed the difference in
Isa.

As usual, Ever had awakened before
the sun. Nothing had seemed amiss then as he’d leaned over and
kissed his wife good morning. She had given him the same, sleepy
smile that she always did, not quite able to open her eyes, but
doing her best anyways. The smile she’d shared with him upon
waking, however, was the last true smile he would see that
day.

When she had joined him to break
fast later that morning, her steps were uncommonly slow, and she
kept her eyes distant, focused only on the ground or the walls or
the food which she pushed around on her plate. No amount of small
talk could bring her from her reverie, and though Ever wasn’t one
for idle chatter, Isa’s lack of words blared like trumpets at the
table. The servants glanced at her nervously throughout the meal,
and even the stuffy nobles who were visiting them at the time gave
her wary looks.

Ever had wanted to ask then and
there what the matter was, but they had two diplomatic meetings to
attend, and a training session with some of his newer soldiers. It
would be hours before they were free to talk alone. By the time the
first meeting was over with, Ever had suggested that Isa looked
tired, and maybe she should rest rather than attend the next
session. Isa had glumly nodded and left without a word. As soon as
she was gone, he’d summoned Garin.

“
Do you know what’s wrong with
her?” he’d asked the steward.

Garin had nodded slowly, but to
Ever’s surprise and annoyance, had said in a soft voice, “This is a
matter that would better be discussed between a husband and wife
alone.”

Ever had stared at him,
incredulous. He knew Garin well enough, however, not to ask where
he had gotten such delicate information. He had a feeling though
that Gigi had much to do with that.

It wasn’t until later that
afternoon that he was miraculously free to check in on Isa, who he
found still in their bedroom, staring at the ceiling from their
massive four poster bed.

“
Find anything new up
there?”

Isa didn’t laugh at the joke or
even crack a smile. She just continued to lay there.

“
Are you unwell?” He gently laid
his hand on her forehead. She shook it off, and sat up with a
frown, but a slight grimace gave her away as she moved. “If you’re
feeling sickly,” he said, “I can—”

“
There is nothing unusual about
the way I feel,” she had snapped. “I feel exactly the way I do this
time every month.”

Ever suddenly felt confused,
watching her cautiously as she stood up and threw the pillow she’d
been hugging back down on the bed with an excessive amount of
force. He stayed still as she paced the room silently for a few
minutes before placing her head on her hands and leaning against
one of the pearl bedposts. Ever had felt as though he should go to
her, but the strange temper she was in kept him seated. He had no
idea as to what he was supposed to do.

Finally, she sighed. “I’m sorry,
Ever. I shouldn’t be angry with you. This isn’t your fault. I
just... I thought things would be different. I was assured they
would be.” When she had finally looked at him, the confusion and
pain in her eyes was piteous, and she suddenly looked very
vulnerable. Slowly, he’d stood and walked over to her. He didn’t
embrace her, still unsure of what she wanted him to do, but he
could at least better study her, so he stood beside the bedpost
opposite of hers. For the thousandth time that day, he wished his
father had spent less time training him in the art of war and a
little more time teaching him about women. Not that his father knew
much about them either.

When the silence finally became
too much to bear, he began, “I’m sorry, Isa, but I still don’t
understand.”

“
I’m not pregnant,
Ever.”

Ever had blinked. Where had that
come from? “Were... you supposed to be?”

“
Master Claude said I would be by
now.”

“
What in the heavens does Master
Claude know of women or pregnancy?” Ever had never liked that
man.

“
He says every Fortress queen has
conceived within a month of her coronation.”

Ever had started to protest, but
stopped. In truth, he had no knowledge on the subject. Women of the
court would titter about such a subject, but never within direct
earshot of the men. He had ever only picked up snippets of
conversation now and then. He wanted to contradict Isa’s snide
tutor, but then he remembered the sadness in Garin’s face that
morning, and he knew immediately that Claude must have been
right.

Understanding and fear had washed
through him as he stood there looking at his wife. Was something
truly wrong? Why would Isa be any different from the others?
Apparently, even his mother had followed suit, and she’d never had
the Fortress fire to begin with.

With no words to comfort either
himself or Isa, he’d simply taken her and drawn her close, holding
her to his chest as tightly as he could without hurting her. She
had wept into him then, and he had to fight the desire to run down
to the practice room and break something. Actually, he had
realized, distraction wasn’t a poor idea.

“
I’ll talk to Garin later and see
what he knows about the old queens.” He’d lifted her chin and
forced her midnight eyes to meet his. “But for now, how would you
like to go down to the practice room with me? You were getting
rather good at the sword form I taught you yesterday.” Isa thought
about that for a moment before nodding, much to his relief. As he
began to walk to the door, she caught his hand and drew him back to
her, and without a word, took his face in her hands and pulled him
down into a warm, soft kiss. His heart had thundered as she kissed
him, and his breath was as fast as if he’d just sprinted across a
battlefield. In that moment, he’d known they were exactly where
they were supposed to be. Together.

A while later, as they began to
practice, however, he’d noticed that while her form was neat, the
power she usually wove into her thrusts and parries was rather
weak. The blue flame that had always moved down her sword and
whirled about her as she twisted in and out was lazy and thin. And
since that day, it had only grown worse. Along with her diminishing
power, the fire in Isa’s eyes had begun to dim as well.

Ever had relived that day over and
over again in his mind, raking over every detail, trying
desperately to find some significance that might unlock the mystery
of her failing power. Garin was solemn whenever they discussed it,
but he always cautioned Ever to be patient, trusting the Fortress
to know what it was doing with its daughter. Ever trusted Garin,
and he knew more than anything that he should trust the Fortress,
but time was running out. He couldn’t bear to see her fire
extinguished the way his father’s had been.