Twisted: Belle's Story (Destined Book 3)

by Kaylin Lee

  I eyed his outstretched hand. I’d seen him right after Estevan had killed my attacker, hadn’t I? “Where—” My voice was a hoarse whisper. I swallowed and tried again. “Where am I?”

  “Sentinels’ headquarters, my lady,” he said, waving a hand at the narrow, dim hallway. “Still in the palace. Just … under it.”

  I nodded slowly. “Why?”

  The man frowned, a concerned line appearing between his eyebrows. “Prince’s orders, my lady. It’s not safe anywhere else. Not for you.”

  I shut my eyes for a moment and put a hand to the smooth skin of my healed neck.

  “Come with me, my lady.” The guard’s voice was surprisingly gentle, at odds with his intimidating appearance.

  I took a deep breath and nodded warily. What choice did I have? I followed him down the hallway.

  Estevan’s office in the Sentinels’ underground headquarters was dusty and dim, just like the hallway. I entered and stood at the door.

  Estevan watched me from behind a messy, paper-strewn desk. His eyes were bloodshot. “Belle.”

  I resisted the urge to fidget and straighten my ugly brown dress. “Estevan.”

  He puffed out a breath and leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes. “We need to talk. Sit down.”

  I sat in a chair on the other side of his desk, then smoothed my dress across my knees.

  He sat in that deceptively casual posture, sprawled out in the seat across from mine, his face impassive.

  Without the perpetual fuzziness caused by my injury, I could soak in the details of his perfection far too well. The dark glint in his eyes. The shape of his lips. The dangerous way he held his body—overly still, a touch too aware—as though always ready to burst into movement.

  My chest ached as I took in the sight of his perfectly-sculpted face, his dark hair hanging over his forehead as though he’d run his hands through it too many times for it to stay in place. His jaw was rough with a day’s growth of beard, and I wanted to run my fingers across his cheek. I pressed my hands together under the table instead. What was wrong with me? How could I still want a man who had pretended to desire me, when all he wanted was my bloodline?

  I exhaled slowly and straightened my spine a little more, holding desperately to the cold numbness that had gripped me since I’d learned of the true Fenra clause from Weslan. I may have recalled countless memories of daydreams about Estevan, but they were tempered by the knowledge that he’d planned to use my arrest for his own purposes.

  “Thank you for coming back. For stopping that man.” I kept my voice cool and forced myself to meet his eyes. “And thank you for having me healed. I know you don’t normally allow magic in the palace. I am grateful.”

  He ignored my thanks as though I hadn’t even spoken. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked tersely.

  I felt my shoulders tense. “Tell you what?”

  “Take your pick!” he growled. “That you’re innocent of smuggling? That your father sought to kill you, even while you were under my protection? Or perhaps that you were gravely injured in the Crimson Blight’s attack, and your own family’s healer just left you that way?”

  “What good would it have done? You only wanted to use the situation to force me to marry you!”

  “Force you?” His voice rose. “Force you? I was offering you the bargain of a lifetime. Half the ladies in the city would commit worse crimes than smuggling if they thought it would make them my queen.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Well, I’m not one of them.”

  “I know.” His voice was dry as he leaned back in his chair. “You must think I’m a true beast, forcing an innocent, injured girl to marry me to escape her execution.” His expression was relaxed, but his posture was anything but. “Just tell me how it has come to this, Belle.”

  “My father visited me before my arrest,” I said. “He told me to go along with the charges if I valued my life. He has ruled over me for nineteen years.” My tone was miraculously even. “I know his threats well, and he never bluffs. When he told me to go along with the charges, I knew he would find a way to ensure I did so, even here in the palace.”

  Estevan leaned forward. “But you decided to call a witness. The man who disappeared.”

  My throat tightened. “Yes. My secretary was in my office and heard my father threaten me.” I pressed my fingers to my temples for a moment, then dropped my hands in my lap. “I thought it would be best to stay quiet and hope for mercy from the justice at my sentencing hour, but as the date of my sentencing approached, I changed my mind. I thought that it might be worth the risk,” I said quietly. “If I were to die either way, whether by my father’s hand or the executioner’s, then maybe I should go out testifying to the truth in court. If I had a witness to back up my story, even if my father ensured the justice ruled against me, my testimony would still be out there in the open. Justice might one day be done.”

  “And instead your witness abandoned you, and your father decided to kill you before you could testify.” Estevan’s voice was hard.

  I clenched my fists in my lap. “Ambrose would never abandon me. Never. You don’t know him, so don’t you dare say that.”

  Estevan’s nostrils flared. “He should have come forward himself, the moment you were arrested.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like, living under my father! He controls everything—everyone. He demands absolute loyalty. Estevan, he owns half the city. Ambrose could have done nothing on his own.” I shook my head and heaved out a breath. “Even if I had accepted your proposal, I knew my father would have killed me just to spite you.”

  “All this time?” Estevan’s expression grew dark. “All this time, he’s been like this? And you didn’t come to me?”

  I waved a hand dismissively. “I had a plan. I was working with my secretary to gather leverage against him. I was going to petition the Ministry of Justice for emancipation. We had just found evidence of fraud at the bank, and I was going to bring it to the Ministry of Justice, so he would never be able to rule over me or anyone else again. It’s just that … well, my memory was damaged.

  “Until you called that healer in, I had … limited access to my mind, I suppose you could say.” I thought of the weeks I had spent after the Crimson Blight attack, miserable and in pain, my brain murky and confused. My head ached at the memory. “The injury set me back a bit. That’s all.”

  As I spoke, Estevan ran his hands through his hair, then pressed his palms against his forehead. “Belle …”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “You should’ve come to me.” The words were almost too soft to hear.

  I shook my head. “I couldn’t—”

  “You should have told me!” I flinched backward, away from his voice, which was suddenly as sharp and hard as a knife. “What in Theros were you thinking, going after a man like your father on your own?” He must have seen me flinch, because his voice softened slightly. “You should have told me.”

  I held up one finger. “First of all, I wasn’t alone. I had Ambrose.”

  He opened his mouth as if to interject, but I cut him off.

  “And second, I couldn’t have come to you. Maybe I should have, but I couldn’t.”

  He gripped the edge of the table as though to keep himself in place. “What are you talking about? You could have sent me a message. I would have listened, Belle. I swear it. I would have believed you.”

  “I only knew you as the Beast, Estevan. Your reputation. Your … demeanor.”

  He scowled. “What about it?”

  “You weren’t exactly approachable. How was I to know that you would help me? You said it yourself just the other night—you did everything in your power to convince the city you were cruel. For all I knew, you were just as terrifying as my father.”

  Was that a flinch? A heartbeat later, the fleeting, vulnerable expression was gone from his handsome face, replaced by an expression as dark and dangerous as black ice. “I see.”

 
I rubbed a hand against the back of my neck, feeling guilty. Was it fair to let him believe I’d been afraid of his reputation? I’d been more infatuated with him than afraid of him. I’d simply feared my father’s reach more than anything else.

  I rifled through a thousand memories of daydreams from countless years past. “I …” Should I tell him that I’d watched him across ballrooms and banquets for years, hoping he would notice me, hoping the true Beast himself would step in and save me from the beast that was destroying our family?

  You have the best pedigree in the city, he’d said the previous night. I thought you would be of use to me. I shivered at the memory.

  “What is it?”

  I shook my head. “Never mind.” He’d already told me he was only pursuing me because of my supposed pedigree. If he knew of my foolish obsession with him, I’d lose whatever shreds of dignity I had left.

  “I’m truly sorry, Belle.”

  My throat tightened at his raw whisper. “Why?”

  “If I had known you were innocent, and that you were being threatened by your father, I would never have pressured you to marry me.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, studying me with a sober expression. “But I wish you had told me everything that was going on.”

  I nodded slowly, then paused. “Are you saying that you would have pressured me into marrying you if I was guilty?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “So what if I would?”

  I felt my eyebrows shoot up. My mother had been nothing more than an asset to be acquired by my father, and her entire life and legacy had been destroyed by his cruelty. Yet Estevan would dare to pressure me into the same fate? “How could you do such a thing?”

  Estevan pressed his lips into a thin line. “I will do what is necessary to become king, Belle. It’s what’s best for this city. I cannot rule Asylia when I am subject to the whims of the Procus patriarchs. ‘A single voice commands obedience, but division destroys a city.’ You studied the Western philosophers. You must understand the importance of strong leadership.” He watched me for a moment, then smiled thinly. “And just so you know, I still need a queen like you. Bloodlines, curses, and all that. The offer still stands.”

  A queen like you. Any admiration of his fine form and handsome features evaporated completely at his flippant words.

  I shot to my feet, my cheeks burning and fists clenched. “You want to hear from the Western philosophers? How about this one? ‘For the love of power, a man will lose his soul’?”

  Estevan stood as I had, his expression growing hard.

  “Here’s a good one,” I spat. “‘There is a way that seems right to a ruler, but it leads to the city’s destruction.’ And another— ‘Strength overpowers the enemy, but pride rules the king.’”

  “You’ve made your point,” Estevan growled.

  “Oh, have I?” My voice was sharp enough to cut glass.

  The tension I’d been holding snapped. For years, I’d dreamed Estevan would be the kind of prince who could rescue me. Had I known he was as desperate for power as my father, I would never have wasted my heart on him, not even in my imagination.

  “I can quote philosophers all day,” I said, “but I’d rather face a thousand sentencing hours than marry someone who just wants to use me.” I shoved away from my chair and bent in a brief curtsey. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness?”

  His eyes flashed angrily as he jerked his head in a silent nod.

  I strode to the door, my legs shaking with every step.

  ~

  A short while later, a guard knocked on my door with a small breakfast tray. I inhaled the food immediately. Fury made me hungry, apparently.

  How dare he? Estevan knew everything about me now—my injured brain, the years I’d suffered at my father’s hands—yet he was still willing to pressure me into a loveless marriage so he could become king.

  The arrogance. The sheer emptiness of his heart. How could one man be so cold, so desperate for power?

  Wouldn’t every other Procus lord do the same? A voice whispered in the back of my mind.

  “Probably. But I wouldn’t marry any of them either,” I muttered.

  I stretched out on the lumpy bed and held up my hands to inspect my knuckles. A delicate smattering of dark freckles dotted the smooth, tan skin on the backs of my hands.

  Seven hundred years ago, the founding Fenra families had banded together and overthrown their Kireth masters. Since then, we’d all lived in peace, hadn’t we? Relative peace, anyway—the Crimson Blight’s rise was the primary, glaring exception.

  Why did it matter whether our ruler looked more Kireth than Fenra?

  I shook my head and rolled to my side, then pressed my hands together between my cheek and my pillow. It wasn’t my problem. I’d had one goal since I’d discovered my father had married my mother for the bank that came with her—to do whatever it took to escape the same fate. I’d never be anyone’s tool again.

  Estevan could marry another Fenra lady if he wanted to be king.

  Chapter 23

  Someone tapped on my bedroom door later that afternoon. “Lady Belle? You’re needed in a meeting.”

  I frowned and pulled open the door. “What meeting?”

  Estevan stepped out from behind the guard who’d spoken.

  I sent Estevan an icy glare, which he ignored.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said. He strode down the hallway, beckoning once behind him.

  What was I—his pet?

  I grimaced and followed him with the guard close behind.

  We entered a small room nearly the size of the table inside it. A man and a woman stood when we entered. The man was huge, with wild hair, a thick beard, and muscles straining his black uniform. The woman had black hair and the gold armband of a service mage.

  “Belle, this is Darien, captain of the Sentinels. And Raven, our lead tracker.”

  Darien nodded, and Raven raised a hand in greeting, her glittering armband flashing in the low light.

  Estevan held out a chair for me, and I took it, leaning forward to avoid brushing against his hand as I sat down.

  They joined me at the table, and Raven pulled out a notebook and pencil.

  Estevan leaned back, folding his arms over his head, his long legs sprawled out under the table and nearly reaching mine. “So, Belle. Last night, your father sent a man to kill you.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  I bit my lip.

  “Please explain to my team why your own father, a prominent Procus lord, business leader, and top government official tried to have you murdered in my own stricken palace, and why you weren’t surprised.” His voice grew tighter with each word.

  “I …” My lips were dry. I licked them, then addressed Darien and Raven, doing my best to ignore Estevan’s presence. “My father has always been a hard man. A cruel man. Since the gates opened, he’s only grown more powerful. Bank Argentarius is more profitable every day, but it never seems to be enough for him. He wants to be first—first in the city, first in every way.

  “When he attacked the Falconus compound, he had to cut short his battle with Falconus to rescue me from the mob in front of the palace. He was furious afterward. I’d cost him the prize he’d wanted for years—the elimination of his closest rival. He told me that if I ever betrayed our family like that again, he’d kill me. Then he struck me and ordered our healer to remove the bruise the next morning so no one outside our family would know.” The memory of his hand on my cheek made me dizzy for a moment. “Not the pain inside, only the evidence of the bruise.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Estevan’s jaw tighten.

  “The next day, right before the guards arrested me for smuggling, my father came to my office and told me that if I valued my life, I would go along with the charges and keep my mouth shut.”

  “Why didn’t you ask for protection?” Raven spoke for the first time, her voice cool and even.

  “I
knew he would find a way to reach me inside the palace. I decided I’d rather take my chances with the Ministry of Justice than give my father a reason to send one of his men after me.”

  “But he did it anyway,” Raven said.

  I straightened in my chair. “He did. Like I said, I took my chances. Nothing is ever certain. Not where he’s concerned.”

  “Lady Belle, to your knowledge, is your father currently or has he ever engaged in activities that could be considered a danger to the throne?” Darien, the bearded guard, spoke this time.

  “I don’t know.” I glanced at Estevan. “There are always rumors. But I do know one thing, now that I have my memory back.”

  “Yes?” Raven leaned forward.

  “For years, I’ve been looking for evidence of fraud at Bank Argentarius. I had a feeling that something wasn’t right, so I used my position to search through old records to see what he was up to. The day of the attack on my school, my secretary, Ambrose, finally found actual evidence that hinted at fraud, but because of my injury, the information was lost to me until now.”

  “What kind of fraud do you suspect?”

  I sighed and rolled my shoulders. “Bank Argentarius never took a significant dip in profits during the plague years, not even during the market crash. When the other banks were folding, we were buying them out and expanding. Why? It didn’t make sense to me.” And I’d known from my mother’s old notes that it wouldn’t have made sense to her either. The market crash during the plague should have destroyed Bank Argentarius, as it had leveled nearly every other business in the city. “I don’t know about insurrection. But I do know Bank Argentarius has more profit than it has any right to be making.”

  “What did your secretary find?” Raven asked.

  “An address on Helix Street, in the River Quarter.”

  Raven frowned. “That’s it?”

  I nodded slowly. “I haven’t had time to make sense of it. I read his note moments before the Blight’s bomb went off. But the address is burned into my memory now. I can’t believe I forgot it for so long.”