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Cursed Beauty (A Fairy Retelling #1)

Page 8

by Dorian Tsukioka


  “I don’t know how the prince feels about me, but I love Prince Julian, regardless.”

  “Oh, so you’ve fallen for the younger prince, then,” the old woman commented. Adelaide felt as if she’d made a mistake. Did it matter if the witch believed her to love Leon, instead of Julian? “Funny, how fickle love can be, how utterly slippery it is. Like liquid, changing back and forth with pull of the moon.”

  “I never said I wanted to meet the Elder Prince, nor that I was in love with him. You made that assumption yourself.”

  “It makes little difference, as long as the feelings are real and run deep.”

  “They are,” Adelaide confessed, “and they do. And you’ll not take them away from me.”

  The old woman lifted her head. “What did you say?”

  The last peal of the midnight bells echoed through the air. Thick ropes flung from behind two nearby trees and lassoed the old woman around her middle. The two princes walked out from behind the trees, holding the ropes securely in their hands.

  “Fools!” she spat, barely pulling against the ropes. “You think this can stop me? I can steal the most succulent parts of her soul whenever I wish, and there is nothing you can do about it. The glass slippers will do my bidding, as long as they’re on her feet.”

  “Good thing they’re not, then,” Celeste said, walking in from the shadows. She tossed the glass slippers from her hands and onto the ground. The shoes did not break, but landed safely in front of the witch. The old woman looked from the slippers to Adelaide and noticed that her gown had not changed back to rags when the midnight bells ended. Looking closer at Adelaide’s face in the shadows, she could see the outline of the girl’s birthmark as well. Nothing about the girl’s dress that evening was magical.

  “You will not feast here tonight, witch,” Celeste said. “And you will not terrorize any more young girls in this kingdom.”

  The old woman began to laugh. A hoarse, cackling gurgle of a laugh. “I know you, don’t I?” the witch asked. “I remember you were in love with the king, long ago. Ah yes, I remember that. The taste of your love for him is still on my lips.” Celeste held the old woman’s gaze. “How interesting,” the witch said, regarding both Celeste and Adelaide, standing side-by-side. “She’s your mother?”

  “Stepmother,” both Celeste and Adelaide replied.

  “Ha!” the witch laughed. “Small world, isn’t it?”

  “Enough with your talk, old woman,” Prince Leon said, attempting to take control of the situation. “Release your hold on those who have fallen to the fate of your cursed glass slippers, and we will show you mercy.”

  “Mercy?” the old woman cackled. “You think you are in some sort of position to offer me mercy? You are mistaken, boy!”

  The ropes encircling the witch’s body burst into flames, and fire quickly licked its way from her body up to the ends of the rope. The princes dropped them in haste, and watched as the burned cords disintegrated into blackened ashes, and were captured by a gust of wind. The witch thrust out her arms towards the two young men, and a powerful, invisible force knocked them down. Leon hit his head upon a rock, and did not stir. Julian was knocked hard against a tree, and lay on the ground, unmoving.

  “No!” screamed Adelaide. She took a step towards the princes, but stopped cold when the witch turned to face her.

  “It is you who will be asking for mercy,” the witch said, glaring at Celeste and Adelaide with sheer loathing. “But, even if you do,” the old woman held her arm out towards them, “you’ll find that I have none.”

  Celeste’s body flew through the air. The witch caught her by the throat, and held her high above her head. Celeste’s feet kicked in midair as the old woman began to choke her life breath out of her. “Now, my dear,” the old woman said, her eyes gleaming red at Adelaide, “it’s time for you to put on my magic slippers.”

  Laying askew on the ground, the two glass slippers flipped up into the air and landed perfectly, right at Adelaide’s feet.

  “Put. On. The. Shoes.” The old woman spat out each word like a curse.

  Adelaide shook her head. “No.” The word came out, little more than a whisper.

  “Then, your stepmother dies.”

  The old woman’s hand tightened further. Celeste’s face began to turn purple.

  “No, stop!”

  “Your precious Prince Julian will be next,” the old woman threatened.

  “Stop! Stop! I’ll do it, just stop!”

  The old woman loosened her grip on Celeste’s throat, just a bit. Adelaide took a step toward the shoes. She couldn’t dare lose Julian, and she would not be responsible for her stepmother’s death. Even life without love would be preferable to a lifetime of guilt.

  She stepped into the glass slippers and instantly felt a coldness sharper and darker than the most frigid night envelop her soul. She was wrong. Anything would have been preferable to this. Pain washed over her, an eternity of it encasing her like fire, burning like ice. Her back arched, hands splayed at her side, as a voiceless scream of agony escaped her lips. Her heart, which had been beating so hard just a moment ago, seemed to have stopped working. It felt wrong. Changed. Like a hard lump of rock within her chest. The coldness flowed outward from there, engulfing her as it crept slowly down her abdomen towards her legs, and up through her chest to her arms.

  Adelaide felt the love disintegrating, chipped away from every cell of her body and disappearing through the pull of the glass slippers. She longed for death to take her, and save her from this torment, but she knew no death would come. She would live a long life, worse than death, devoid of love. She would become bitter and hard, just like the glass slippers on her feet.

  “Enough!” a deep voice cried out behind her.

  Adelaide tried to turn her head, but the pain was too great. The witch’s hold on her was too powerful. Adelaide gathered the last remaining strength she had, and willed her eyes to open.

  The king rushed past her, running toward the old woman and Celeste.

  “Tiny king,” the old woman taunted with a smile. “You think you can stop me?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “I do.”

  In one swift, fluid motion, the king unsheathed his sword from his side, swung it through the air in a wide, graceful arc, and froze.

  “Puny little man-king,” the witch taunted. “I’ll destroy you all.”

  The king’s sword clattered to the ground as his body flew through the air and hit hard into the wall of the castle.

  Coldness blanketed Adelaide’s entire body as the last bit of warmth dissipated from her feet. She tried to hold onto her love for just a few moments more. She pulled memories of her father and mother to her mind, but there was nothing. She thought of Julian holding her, and felt only emptiness. A deep, dark abyss now existed where her love once thrived. In seconds, it would overtake her completely.

  It’s almost over, now.

  Blood rushed through Adelaide’s ears. The pounding was so loud she could barely make out the sound of Thalia’s voice coming from behind the old woman.

  “That’s my mother, you witch,” Thalia cried, as she picked up the king’s fallen sword and sliced it cleanly through the old woman’s neck.

  A look of shock flashed on the witch’s face, just before her head toppled off the remaining stump of neck and onto the ground. The old woman’s body keeled over and her hand released Celeste from its choking grip. With a gasp, Celeste gulped at the air and fell to the ground. The body of the old woman burst into flames reeking of sulphur.

  A rush of warmth spread through Adelaide’s body as her heart began to beat again and her love returned. The glass slippers crumbled into sand beneath her feet. Adelaide ran to Celeste and Thalia now sitting together on the ground. The king also stirred, and walked towards the huddle of women. Celeste was still taking in great, heaving gulps of air. Her gaze rose to the king’s face. He looked back at her and kneeled down, staring intently into her face.

  “Can it b
e possible?” he said in astonishment. “I know you.”

  “Yes,” Celeste answered, adoration glowing on her face, “you do.”

  Adelaide’s heart leaped to see love in her stepmother’s eyes. Celeste was smiling up at the king with a sincerity Adelaide had never seen in her before. The witch’s death had released her, too, which meant that Merelyn must also be released as well. Adelaide couldn’t wait to visit her friend and check to see if she was truly healed.

  “Thalia,” Adelaide said, “you saved us all. How did you know where to find us?”

  “I didn’t, at first,” she replied. “I noticed that mother had disappeared from the ball, then the princes were gone, and finally I saw the king leave as well. I wondered where the party was, and why I wasn’t invited, so I followed him.”

  “I’m so glad you did,” Celeste said.

  “So am I,” the king said, smiling down at her.

  “Julian,” Adelaide remembered, and ran toward the prince. He was still unmoving, his body listless on the ground. The king and Celeste ran to the side of the Elder Prince. “He’s breathing,” Celeste observed.

  “I think he’s just knocked cold,” the king said, worry creasing his brow.

  In a few moments, Leon opened his eyes, and slowly sat up. A gash on his head was bleeding, but other than that, he was fine.

  Adelaide kneeled down next to Julian, cupped his head in her hands, and pushed his hair back off his brow. “Julian, wake up. Please, wake up,” she pleaded.

  With a flood of joy, Adelaide watched as Julian’s eyelids fluttered. He stared up at her, and brought a hand to the birthmark spread across her face. “I know you,” he said.

  “Yes, you do,” she replied.

  “Is it over?”

  “Yes.”

  Julian regarded her for a long moment, his hand stroking her cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of her lips. “Did you mean what you said? To her? About me?”

  Adelaide held her breath for a moment. “I did,” she answered in a whisper.

  “I was hoping so.”

  Adelaide smiled broadly. Julian held her face gently in her hands and brought her lips to his. His lips were soft and gentle against hers, and she relished every moment of their kiss.

  When their lips finally parted, Julian asked, “Did you know that your eyes remind me of honey?” Adelaide smiled broadly. “Beautiful,” he murmured, pulling her down into another tight embrace.

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT NOTICE

  JUST FOR YOU

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  YOU ROCK!

 

 

 


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