“But—”
“If I’m able to receive the cure, I’ll have it sent to you. You’ve spent enough time with me.” He muttered something else under his breath, which sounded like “… don’t deserve your…”, but that didn’t make sense. Besides, I was too stunned by his previous declaration to care.
Though I hadn’t thought it possible, I began bawling far harder than I already had—far harder than even a newborn baby—at his words.
Such lies. So ridiculous and impossible.
And yet so beautiful, as lies often were.
I’d done nothing for him, and yet here he was, promising me the world.
I barely knew this man, and his opinion of me was already less than stellar… so why was he being so kind and selfless? Why did he consider me a hero when I was really the villain who coveted more than she deserved?
Perhaps that had been another reason I’d been so eager to stay here rather than return home.
I wanted him to think better of me. I wanted to save this man from his demons.
I wanted to be his champion, just as he’d claimed I’d once been.
That had failed catastrophically; if anything, he’d instead saved me—once physically, then emotionally.
I should have expected as much.
“I’m sorry,” I cried. “I-I…” As more tears trailed down my cheeks and chin, I shook my head, unable to continue. Shao pat my back gently.
“You have no reason to be,” he replied, and I gulped because he was wrong.
I’d wanted to be someone special. Someone respectable. Someone kind, admirable, and beloved by all.
The type of person who wouldn’t be a burden on her family, who wouldn’t be shamed and scorned by everyone around her—who would only have herself and her own actions to blame for it.
Someone who could save her father, and without relying on the humiliation of begging and the generosity of those around her.
I wanted to be someone who wasn’t… me.
“I’m grateful you’re the way you are,” Shao said, and I realized I must have voiced my thoughts out loud. Shame flooded every cell in my body. “You did save me. Without even realizing—without knowing of my existence—you rescued me from myself.”
“I don’t want him to die,” I blubbered, ignoring his words. My tears only poured faster.
Shao gave me a squeeze.
“It’s okay. He won’t.”
“But you can’t know—”
“We’ll find a way,” he said. I wheezed.
“Wh-what if we can’t? What if your parents refuse? What if they take too long?”
“If my parents are unable or unwilling to get the cure for you, or if they delay, we… we can storm the castle or something. Steal as many cures as we need.”
I managed the tiniest laugh at that. That sounded like something I’d do.
Mostly because I’d already tried sneaking into the castle once.
I’d believed I could convince them to help me if only I could talk to them face to face, but the royal family had rejected all my pleas to speak with them in person. How could I have not tried to sneak into the castle after that?
Of course, I hadn’t gotten far at all due to all the guards lining the premises. They’d let me off with a stern warning and nothing else, recognizing—and pitying—me from the time the nobles had arranged for my imprisonment.
“You’d do that with me?” I laughed. While I knew he was kidding, it was a comforting dream to think, and kind of him to say. I appreciated that he wished to reassure me so much he was reaching at the sky for things to say.
He smiled, but his expression was clouded, his eyes distant. “I want to save your father, too. Perhaps as much as you do.”
“Thank you,” I said, grateful for the sentiment. Shao rubbed at his ear.
“No, Beatrice.” His breath stuttered, as did my heartbeat. “Thank you.”
“Wha—”
“Now sleep, won’t you?”
As if he’d cast a spell on me, a flurry of fog embraced me, and I lost consciousness shortly after.
Chapter 12
I pointed my index finger at Shao as soon as he entered my room, dressed in a characteristic long-sleeved red tunic and loose brown pants. In his hands was a tray filled with food I could smell from my bed, and although I could have slobbered over it, I refused to let it distract me yet.
“You’ve been casting a spell on me every night, haven’t you?” I asked.
He snorted. “What makes you think that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, crossing my arms. “The fact that I always fall asleep after you tell me to? The fact that I’m getting far more sleep than usual?”
I wasn’t sure if the expression lighting up his eyes was amusement or exasperation, although either way, it was making him happy… and filling my soul with far too many more positive feelings than I deserved.
“Wouldn’t you have heard it if I had?” He asked as he stepped closer to my bed, and I inclined myself up, wincing momentarily at the burst of pain.
“Maybe you tear it most of the way before you come here, and you only tear a tiny, tiny speck of the remaining attached paper.”
“That sounds like inviting accidents to happen, and anyway, the magic would be seeping out as soon as the talisman’s been damaged the slightest bit.”
I grabbed the nearest stuffed animal exclusively so I’d have something to fidget with as I watched Shao set down the food on the writing desk he’d moved to the front of my bed.
The smell of the berries and other delectable fruits in my salad filled me with delight, and the scent of freshly cooked mountain lions made my mouth water—and almost drool. It tasted like pork, which I’d been surprised by… and I’d prayed for five hours straight at night, grateful for the magical treat that was mountain lions.
I’d frowned at the meat when Shao first prepared it for me a couple days ago, deciding I was ready for solid foods. It was foreign to me, and besides, I hadn’t eaten any proper meat in years.
My family hadn’t been able to afford luxurious food back at home, and we’d subsisted on bland porridges of rice and potatoes every day. Then, when I’d began living with Shao, he’d claimed our only options were bland lettuce harvested outside and years-old dried, processed meat that tasted like bland ashes and dirt.
I shuddered at the memory of asking Shao for some of the jerkies when he’d first entered my room. I hadn’t known just how low quality it was.
I’d been so deprived, and I intended to change that.
“Why do you even get your gross bits of meat delivered when you have all these delicacies?” I asked, throwing as much food as I could ram into my mouth.
Shao huffed in mock offense. “You think it’s easy to hunt down those mountain lions?”
“You have magic on your side,” I huffed.
“The magic costs over a million gold per talisman, although fire spells are far cheaper than illusion magic. Even the crown could go bankrupt at that rate.”
I shrugged. “Worth it for meat.”
He laughed. “We have all the dried meat we could ever need.”
“Yeah, but is it mountain lion meat?”
Shao shook his head. “Being sick has spoiled you far too much. I could destroy the natural ecology if I hunt down too many, and I hope you don’t expect to eat this for the rest of your stay here.”
His voice trailed off at the end of the sentence, and he gave me a tight smile when he noticed me staring at him. I found myself marveling at the sharp angles of what little of his jaw I could see, and the brightness of his dazzling blue eyes captivated me. He looked back at me, almost daring me to drop my gaze, and his eyes seemed to dilate. Soften.
Stubbornness be darned, I tore my gaze up to look at the ceiling as I plopped back down onto my bed, yelping again as my head spun with a vertigo that felt like daggers to my brain.
I should’ve been used to that by now.
Shao chuckled, knowing it
was harmless, and I glared at him in response before remembering to look up at the ceiling again.
“What about the fruit?” I asked, desperate to fill in the silence between us. “I never even knew you had any until you started bringing me some a couple days ago,” I said with a mouthful of food.
Who cared about manners? I was too sick to get out of bed, and it wasn’t like Shao would say anything about it.
Defending myself from a nonexistent opponent, I grabbed some more food from the table without looking and exhaled with happiness as more tart sweetness filled my mouth.
This was exceedingly uncomfortable and ridiculous, however, so I winced as I sat myself up one more time, grateful for Shao when he helped support me with his hands.
“The fruit plants are a good five miles away, and I can’t bother to make so much effort every day.”
“But you have been.” I gave him a grin as wide as a Cheshire cat’s. “For me.”
“Or maybe I just had a craving for some fruit and meat myself,” he said; the two of us laughed simultaneously at the blatant lie.
“For what it’s worth, thank you,” I said, twisting to look at him again. I winked. “Although, there’s a good chance I’m not even sick anymore. Maybe I’m just faking it, so I keep getting delicious food.”
“Oh, please.” Shao smiled at me as he helped me pick my fork back up, noticing my hands shaking far too much. The direct contact caused my stomach to flip-flop, although I tried to keep a straight face and pretend nothing was the matter. “Well, if you love the fruit so much, I’ll take you to the fruit trees and groves as soon as you recover.”
He gazed down at me with so much care in his eyes that I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something humiliating and stupid out of reflex.
“Get well soon, okay?”
My response was to stuff more food in my mouth.
Another burst of silence passed between us, but it was comforting, rather than awkward, and a part of me wished I could bask in it for as long as I lived.
Which was stupid.
When I finished eating, I wiped my mouth on a small square of cloth he’d brought with the food and thanked him one more time.
“No problem,” he said, and when he lifted the tray of food to take it back, a sleeve of his shirt ruffled, revealing a scratch of red that I squinted to see better; but Shao had risen, leaving me wondering if I’d seen a trick of the light.
“Get back down,” I said, and he blinked in confusion.
I duly realized he’d always worn long-sleeved tops, no matter the weather. Was there meaning to that? I supposed I would see.
Reaching forward, I watched Shao for his reaction, but all I saw was mild confusion—until I caught his shirtsleeve, and he shuffled away his arm from my reach.
“What—” we said at the same time, and I almost laughed, except I was bursting with worry.
Shao had touched my hand plenty of times by now. Heavens, he’d even hugged me. It wasn’t contact with me bothering him… so what was?
“You got hurt, didn’t you?” I asked. “While hunting lions for me.”
Shao’s eyes dimmed, but he gave me a little smile of reassurance. “Don’t worry about it.”
“How could I not? You got hurt for my sake—”
Shao shook his head. “No. It wasn’t for you.”
I looked up at him, uncomprehending.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shao repeated, and I pointed at him again in a challenge.
“What, do you think you’re less of a man because you got hurt or something? Listen, you were hunting mountain lions, I think it’s a miracle you even got out alive—”
“No,” Shao said, his posture sinking. I frowned as he let the tray back onto the desk, grabbed the nearby wooden seat to move it closer to my bed, then slumped down. “That’s… not quite it.”
Bothered by the tone of his voice, I snatched his hand before he could stop me and peeled back his sleeve.
My breath caught.
Layered over his pale skin were mangled bite marks, claw marks, and an array of other scars. Seeing the damage done to him, I wanted to weep. I wanted to scream. I wanted to pull him into my arms and hug him until we died of sickness and old age.
The scars trailed up his arm, and I had a nagging feeling it spotted his shoulders and back and perhaps even more.
“I would have believed you if you said this was your scarification curse,” I joked, my voice faint. They were years old and puckered and scarred from healing, the faint red of blood replaced by the pinks and browns of old damage.
Shao’s arm shook as he tried to take it out of my grasp, but I held on tight, unable to look away.
“I’m…” Could an apology make up for this? What had happened to this man? How hadn’t he died?
“I was supposed to die,” he said in a nonchalant tone, but from the incessant tremble in his voice, it was clear it was a memory he wished to hide.
“Y-you don’t have to tell me if you can’t—”
“I want to,” he said, and I stopped myself from saying anything more. The only thing I could do was listen.
With his free hand, Shao fidgeted with the handle end of my fork, for lack of anything else. Nibbling my lips, I grabbed his free hand with my own, giving it a squeeze reminiscent of his reassuring touches from before.
“Have you heard anything about the Wicked Witch?” Asked Shao.
“Not much.” I cracked my knuckles to think. “I’ve heard rumors of her hiding out in the faraway Briar Forest and hunting anyone unfortunate enough to trespass her home. A myth, just like the beast in our forest—only you turned out to be real.”
I looked up at him expectantly. “Is she the witch who cursed you?”
I still couldn’t bring myself to believe his confession from before, but I wanted to. It couldn’t hurt to trust him this one time, especially when he’d agreed to let me return home and still give me the cure.
“She cursed both my sister and me,” he said, and I tipped my head. I’d never heard him refer to any of his siblings—or family members at all, other than his parents the day we met, when he’d talked about them exiling him.
I remembered the paintings in the hallways and parlor that were turned backwards. Momentarily, I wondered if it would offend him to ask… but he’d told me himself not to worry about stepping on his toes, and I was too curious to stop myself.
“Are the paintings of you and your family?”
Shao lifted his head in surprise. “So, you’ve looked at them. I guess I should have expected as much.” He shrugged. “Frankly, I forgot they existed at this point.”
I poked his arm proddingly. “Oh, please. If you had them all turned around, clearly they meant something to you.”
A slight smile emerged on his face. Not a happy one.
“Most of them were painted after my exile,” he said, then paused for five full beats. “Many of them were drawn by me. I… daydreamed about being reunited with my siblings often. My mother. I imagined it, and I drew it, because sloppy, untechnical paintings were the closest I’d ever get to seeing it in person.”
He rubbed a finger over the palm of my hand absentmindedly, his eyes distant and cast with a cloud of regret. Before I could pry more about his family, he buried his masked face in his hands.
“I don’t know where to start,” he griped. I gave his shoulder a whisker-like rub.
“Anywhere is fine,” I said. “I’ll catch up.”
“The Wicked Witch…” Watching Shao’s mouth open, close, open, close, I waited with bated breath for him to continue. “The most accurate rumor I’ve heard about her is that she resides in the Briar Forest with a pack of murderous creatures… but that’s a mockery of her.”
“What do you mean?”
Shao barked out a cold, cruel laugh. “She’s stolen almost the entire forest—the once national treasure, the giant land that takes up most of the country—for herself. All the creatures who live there, whether wolves o
r lions or peaceful deer, have been twisted into demonic, bloodthirsty creatures.”
“Did you not know that when you visited her?”
Shao laughed again. “Of course, I knew. It’s an open secret between upper bluebloods, although we’re careful not to let commoners know—that could upend our power over them. A revolt is the last thing we need.”
The way he spoke of us—commoners—in an othering manner caused me to bristle, and I almost spoke up about it… but his mind was elsewhere, and for good reason. Right now, I wanted to hear his story. I needed to.
“Then why did you go?” I asked, bending down for a better look at his downturned face.
“I lost my mother, and I went mad trying to find any way to save her,” Shao said. Hearing about Shao’s loss for the first time, I gasped. “I meant to threaten the witch with her own curse, but it didn’t even work on her beasts, much less her.”
Shao’s lips quirked up with bitterness. “There’s a reason I said I want your father to recover as much as you do. I’ve… gone through similar feelings of both grief and… guilt. I wouldn’t wish either on anyone.”
“Guilt?” I asked, a pang hitting my chest. An understanding filled me, along with a knot of dread. I prayed I was mistaken.
“It was a child’s mistake. I was excited for something stupid—I don’t even remember what anymore—and sprinted out my room without putting my mask on.” His fists clenched around mine. “I remembered just as I stepped out of my room, and I was about to turn back inside, but—”
Deep breaths.
Shao squeezed his fingers around mine so tight it almost hurt, but I bared him. For him. For the child in his past who’d suffered endlessly for a simple mistake.
“My mother was right outside the door.” I could hear him gnash his teeth against each other. “When I was a child, they’d both spoiled me rotten despite my curse, and I loved them both as infinitely as any child could.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and tears threatened to spring that I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know how to help him. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Shao bared his teeth as if to growl, and he stopped himself barely in time. “It was. The witch was more to blame than I, but… it was my fault, too. I should have known better. I should have remembered. I—”
A Kiss like Roses: Fairy Tale Synergy Book 1 Page 10
