Beauty's Quest

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Beauty's Quest Page 3

by C. S. Johnson


  “AUGH! DON’T HURT ME, you beast!”

  Rose and Philip walked into the inn just in time to see Felise ducking behind the partition, his arms waving wildly as he screamed. “Help! Save me!”

  Rose was just about to call out and ask what was wrong when a gust of wind and a slew of feathers flew into her. Instinctively, her fingers curled and her arm straightened out, allowing the grand gyrfalcon to land properly. “Virtue. I can’t believe you’re here!”

  “He’s yours?” Felise poked his head out over the table’s edge, just enough so Rose could see his moppet of white hair and terrified brown eyes.

  Rose choked down a laugh as she watched the poor man. “Yes. Sorry about that. I hope he didn’t give you any trouble.” She came over and reached a hand to help pull him to his feet. “This is Virtue. He’s my messenger falcon and hunting partner.”

  “He’s too large to be housed in here,” Felise told her tersely as he brushed off his robes. “There are stables out back you can use.”

  Rose smiled graciously. “Of course. I’ll get him settled in right away.”

  “That’s fine,” Felise agreed. “But don’t bring him in here again. I’m afraid he would scare some of my other guests.” He walked briskly away, leaving Rose wondering if he really was only concerned for his guests—if he even had guests other than her party.

  “I’ll bet anything he’s never seen a falcon like you,” Rose murmured to Virtue, whose eyes seemed to laugh in reply. She stroked his wings before turning back to Philip. “Can you take our purchases up to Mary?” she asked. “I’ll just be a moment with him.”

  “No problem,” Philip promised, skirting around her and heading back toward their rented suite.

  A sense of relief stole over her as she watched him disappear down the hall. She was eager to forget their earlier conversation in the market. The sight of him, with his rich copper hair and the darker shade of his beard softening the sharper edges of his face, his hazel eyes twinkling at her in sport and something else—something she knew well to avoid—unnerved her as much as the topic of her heart.

  Rose knew it wasn’t worth discussing; she’d debated the problem with others before, and it did no good in the end. How could they understand she knew just what it felt like to have no power, to long for love freely given, only to know the cost was too great to count?

  Rose headed for the stables, faltering only slightly in her steps as she caught sight of the package neatly tied to her falcon’s foot. “Seems you brought us a present from Isra, huh?” she asked. “I guess that’s why Theo and Philip were so eager for me to send you out before we set sail.”

  Virtue let out a small screech, as if to confirm her guess. It would be like Isra to put the pressure for news on the ones who would listen, Rose thought. In her earlier years of travel abroad, Rose had never written to her sister, and never wanted to. It was easier to deal with leaving behind her childhood if she forgot her sister as well.

  “Well, let’s hope she included some money.” Rose prepared to see a letter scolding her for not writing yet.

  “It hasn’t been that long since we left. She can’t be that bored already, can she?” Rose wondered aloud, peeling the papers apart from Virtue’s claw, revealing several letters, all addressed in the same precise, looped writing. When Virtue squawked in seeming reply, she continued, “But then again, I suppose not everyone has to deal with rough seas, a shipwreck, and running with the bulls, all within the same month.”

  Virtue took off once more, heading for one of the higher beams of the small stable. “Rest well,” Rose told him, blowing him a kiss.

  Feeling the vellum of Isra’s letters beneath her fingertips, Rose felt a sudden wave of shame. Her sister, while Rose’s opposite in looks, had never been her enemy, even if she had been a bit of a brat growing up.

  Isra would have loved to be here, cheering us on in the tournament as much as she did in the last one, Rose thought. Maybe I should have brought her along after all.

  With a renewed sense of sisterly affection, Rose deftly opened the seal, and tore open her sister’s letter.

  To my sister, Rose, Princess of Rhone and Heir Apparent to the Kingdom, and Other things which should sound majestic and royal to you as I write this with my governess watching me with her hawk-like eyes and blackened soul—

  Okay, she is gone. Thank God. How does one remain so irritating, even when she does not have to be?

  Sister,

  I would have preferred writing “Rora,” as that is who you have always been to me, but I wasn’t sure you would have recognized the reference. I also would have preferred you had taken me with you on your journey ...

  Rose laughed. The few days she had spent in Rhone had been busy enough, but her sister had managed to make some of it memorable. Of course, Isra had always been that way, Rose remembered. Though it had been Rose who had been gifted with beauty, grace, and song in the form of fairy magic, Isra was the one who seemed to have been born with charm, wit, and humor.

  ... but probably not for the reason you think. I am afraid I write to you with some troubling news.

  There has been an attempt on the King’s life, and I am afraid it has shattered his nerves and possibly his mind. Only yesterday, he arrested the Queen Mother, and placed her in the palace dungeon, citing treason, believing her to have attempted to poison him. Fortunately, Ronan had just returned from his grand tour, and instead of being his usual pompous vermin self, was actually a decent brother and took me away from the castle under the cover of night. We are headed to a secret location at present, with several of the Queen Mother’s guards and a handful of our staff, as the Queen fears for our livelihood.

  “What? What in the world is going on in Rhone?” Rose wondered aloud. “How could the King do this to the Queen Mother?” She looked down at the date on the letter; it had been written about five weeks after she’d left, and over a month since then. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Rose? What’s wrong?”

  Rose jumped. “Theo. You shouldn’t scare me like that.”

  Theo smiled kindly in a mild apology. “I’m surprised I was able to surprise you. What’s wrong?”

  “Someone tried to kill my father. And the King decided to arrest my mother for it.” The words sounded strange, almost like she was describing a play or the plot of a novel.

  “What? Why?” Theo asked. “That’s awful.”

  “I know, right?” Rose shook her head. “Isra says someone attempted to poison him and his nerves are overwrought because of it.”

  “Sounds like it if he’s going to put your mother in the castle dungeons. Unless—”

  “What do you mean, ‘unless’?” Rose snapped. “She’s my mother. She doesn’t have the guts to commit treason, let alone the desire. You know how she is, Theo.”

  “I know,” he replied. “But you even told me when we were there that she might be having an affair.”

  “But—”

  “That’s treason to the King, and the kingdom.”

  “But the King doesn’t care about that. He doesn’t love her.”

  “How do you know?” Theo asked. “He might love her.”

  “How could he?” Rose asked. “He doesn’t even love me.”

  “He still sought her hand.”

  “He sought power.”

  “Okay, if you assume he doesn’t love her, then why would he wait until now to arrest her for it?”

  “Because of the poison.”

  “Do you think the poison attempt was a real or is it possible it was staged to frame the Queen?”

  “I don’t know,” Rose admitted. “Do you think he’s arrested her in hopes I’ll go back to Rhone?”

  “It’s possible.” Theo ran his hand through his hair. “It wouldn’t be the first time the King’s done something unusual to try to provoke you into coming home.”

  Rose snorted. “That’s true.” She looked up at him, suddenly feeling much younger and much more frightened than she h
ad in a long time. “Do you think my father would release her if I came home?”

  “I don’t know.” Theo looked down, unable to meet her gaze. He saw the other letters in her hand. “I got a letter, too?” he asked.

  “Oh, uh, yeah. Here.” Rose handed him the other letters.

  He took them, handling them with too much care for Rose’s taste. Isra had been her younger companion for much of her life, but she was unfamiliar with just how deeply her sister’s devotion was where Theo was concerned. She wondered, not for the first time, if Isra was writing love letters to him. She waited in expectation as Theo read his own letter.

  Finally, he looked up at her. “What does the rest of your letter say?” Theo asked.

  “Huh? Oh. Let me see.” She nearly blushed, having forgotten her own letter. Rose glanced back down at the parchment.

  Ronan has his usual company of men, while I have my nosy governess, Mrs. Winston, of course, who has just come back into my small room here. I am also glad to have Juana by my side, as Fiona decided to stay with our mother.

  That’s good, Rose thought. At least Mary would be able to place a locator spell on Virtue, so she could communicate with Isra.

  As per my current location and condition, I am unable to continue informing you of the King’s intentions; I can only say this attempt on his life has shaken him, so please be cautious. The Queen Mother was only able to tell me she didn’t know who actually poisoned his food, but all my (and your) potential suitors have been sent away just in case there is an assassin in their midst. Personally, I am not all that sorry to see them go, as many of them were ugly or just plain boring. Even when I was veiled and it was assumed I was you, they would only talk of my beauty and my tragic curse. I can confidently assure you, you would have hated all of them nearly as much as I did.

  Rose felt a reluctant smile flit to her lips. Isra couldn’t have been in too bad of shape if she was able to make light of her situation.

  Since Ronan and I have left, we have been declared traitors as well. We will not be able to meet you in Havilah, not until the King’s anger has subsided or the real assassin has been found and properly imprisoned. In the meantime, I hope to seek out some answers myself. I think you would be proud of me—off on a journey of my own, working to solve mysterious happenings.

  When you arrive in the Romani territory, please send word. Just in case you think you will be too busy, I will tell you it is a matter of the greatest urgency that you write to me. Your streak of moral stubbornness is irritating at times, but I am strongly certain the guilt will compel you to fulfill my wishes.

  Ever Your Sister,

  Isra

  “She would guilt me into writing her, when she knows I can do nothing for her,” Rose muttered under her breath.

  Theo looked up from his own letter. “What did she say?”

  “I’m supposed to write to her once we get to the Romani territory, among other things.”

  “Can I read it?” Theo asked.

  “Sure. Can I read yours?”

  “No.”

  “What? Why not? I’m letting you read mine,” Rose objected.

  Theo grinned. “She specifically told me not to let you read any of her letters meant for me.”

  “You know better than I that God will forgive you for breaking a promise.”

  “Ah, but would the Princess of Rhone forgive me for such grievance against the Crown?” Theo asked.

  “There’s only one Princess of Rhone you have to worry about while we’re here together. Let me see the letter,” Rose shot back.

  Before she could make a grab for it, he stuffed the letter out of her reach. “Rose, it’s nothing to worry about,” he said.

  “Then what does she say?”

  “Nothing of import. She did want me to know my father’s been keeping close watch on Thad and my grandfather. They are tending to your mother while she’s being held.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Rose put her head in her hands. “This is just terrible.”

  Theo’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her close to him. He placed her head in the crock of his shoulder. Rose felt heat rush to her cheeks as his hand ran through her hair affectionately.

  His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “It’ll be all right.”

  Rose felt her terror over her mother’s fate dissolve as a new, sharper form of terror took over. Her body went rigid as Theo’s embrace, gentle and comforting, burned into her blood, turning it into something more, and anything but innocent.

  Before she could say anything, he continued. “Once we get to the Romani territory, we’ll get the dragon’s blood, and then we’ll go back to Rhone and get everything sorted out.”

  “What if it’s too late?” she whispered, burying herself in his shoulder, easing herself into his arms, loving his closeness even as she hated herself for needing it.

  “Then you can do nothing to change it.”

  After a moment of considering it, Rose nodded. “You’re right.”

  “It doesn’t mean you can’t mourn,” Theo told her. “But we need to focus on one problem at a time. First, we have to get off this island.”

  “Then we need to find the dragon’s lair,” Rose recited, as they had a hundred times or more during their many walks along the ship’s deck.

  “Once we have that, we’ll head back to Havilah and see what’s wrong with Rhone and the King.”

  “Free my mother.”

  “And then go and take care of Magdalina.”

  “And Everon, too,” Rose added. She glanced up at him. “You can’t leave your vengeance out of it.”

  He smiled. “Oh, I know.”

  Rose smiled back despite herself. “You always put me first. Don’t you ever think of yourself?”

  She felt him go still, before he loosened his grip on her. He tugged a short lock of her hair, playfully, as he had done so many times before. “Oh, I do,” he assured her, “but only when you let me.”

  Rose hit his shoulder back at his jest. “That’s not funny.”

  “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll pay for it, if I haven’t already.”

  He indicated the letters in his hand. “Let’s go give Philip his letter, shall we? Oh, and Roderick, too.”

  “Roderick got a letter?” Rose asked. “From Isra?”

  “No, someone else.” Theo held it up. “Different handwriting.”

  “Maybe my mother?” Rose asked. She reached at the letters, but only managed to grab Philip’s out of Theo’s hands. “Let me see.”

  “Rose, it’s not yours. Just give Philip his and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Before Rose could argue, she was interrupted by a voice from behind them. “Some mail came for me?” Philip asked. Rose and Theo turned just in time to see Philip come through the stable doors. He looked from Rose to Theo and arched a brow.

  “The Queen has been imprisoned,” Theo explained. “Isra has sent word.”

  Rose took another step back from Theo as she held out Philip’s letter. “She sent you one, too.”

  “Thanks.” Philip took the letter and stared at it for a long moment, gently turning it over in his hands. “I wasn’t sure if she was really going to write to me when we set off.”

  “Isra likes to write,” Rose said. “She’d probably make a good scribe or authoress if she wasn’t a princess.”

  “I’ll read it in a bit,” Philip promised, sticking it beneath his armor. “I came to see where you were. The others have arrived.”

  “Already?” Rose frowned. “I would have thought it would take much longer, given most of us overslept this morning.”

  “We’re just waiting for you.” Philip gave her one of his charming smiles and gallantly held out his arm for her. “Shall I escort you, Rose?”

  While Theo narrowed his gaze at Philip, Rose clasped onto him and nodded. “All right. But I want to hear what Isra wrote to you. Perhaps it will have some insights into where she is going and what else is happening I s
hould know about.”

  *5*

  ҉

  ROSE WELCOMED THE LIGHT of the inn’s private dining room, a room Felise had allowed them to use free of charge. Rose had to wonder if Felise had been charmed, like nearly all men, by her beauty when he’d offered them the room; while the old man was clearly respectable, she could not see him appreciating the loss of any profit.

  Philip led her to the main table, decorated with flowers as well as some of the food and drink they had bought earlier that day. Rose’s stomach rumbled as she spied the freshly baked bread.

  Before she allowed herself to eat, she looked around to see her traveling companions were all present, even the guards. She frowned at Roderick, the guard with the curling ginger beard who shared a special friendship with her mother. Rose had seen the intimacy between his gaze and the Queen’s back in Rhone, and Rose was almost certain he was a spy for her mother, if nothing else.

  I’ll need to work that into a conversation soon, Rose reminded herself. With the Queen in prison, Roderick owes me some answers, and I intend to collect.

  She turned to see Ethan’s face gradually getting redder as Sophia talked to him. There was a bundle on his lap that he gripped tightly, his fingers white with protective pressure.

  Rose looked up at Philip as he surveyed the room with her, and Rose didn’t have to look behind her to be able to know Theo was there.

  She cleared her throat, announcing herself. Despite her uncertainty, she straightened her posture. Next to Philip, she felt almost like a regal queen. He was good at commanding attention, she thought. Then again, he was a prince; that probably came naturally after all the years of having it nurtured in him.

  When everyone turned to face her, she didn’t falter. “Something terrible has happened.”

  “‘Something terrible?’” Sophia repeated. “What is it? We are still going to compete in the tournament, right?”

  Rose cleared her throat again, trying to make sure she didn’t choke on the words. “There has been an attempt on King Stefanos’ life,” she explained. Sophia let out a small gasp and Ethan’s mouth dropped open. Roderick and Captain Locke flinched, while the other guard, Lannister, looked shocked. Mary, who had been fluttering around in a cheery manner, stopped and sank down to the tabletop as Rose continued.

 

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