by Laura Kenyon
Donner was still inches away—so close she could smell his skin. Only it didn’t reek of alcohol and cologne the way it usually did. Right now, the potion he was emitting was more like … flowers.
She felt a warm finger stroke her arm.
“Belle.” The sound was more a whimper than a name. “Belle. You saved me before. You can save me again.” His voice snagged as her heart sped up. A wave of heat broke up her body, and the room suddenly began to spin. She gasped for air and pulled violently away, but Donner caught her with one hand. His fingers pressed possessively into her bicep and she felt her heartbeat in her ears. She opened her mouth to cry out just as he flung himself away.
He stomped back to the window and clutched the sill, cowering as if she was a bottle of wine and he was ten weeks sober. It was so unlike him—the always confident, always polished king who shrunk before no one. When he spun back around, his eyes were red and panicked. “See?” he practically wailed. “See what I mean? I need you to come back, Belle. I’m … I’m losing control without you.”
Belle steadied herself with a palm against the wall. This wasn’t helping the backaches or the dizzy spells—or the hope that Ruby’s prediction was just baseless intimidation. Donner’s behavior was too erratic, too unstable, too much like something she’d experienced years ago … after her father picked that enchanted rose. After she traded her freedom for his life. After she became imprisoned by a monster who turned out to be a king.
But how could she know if his curse was returning? It’s not like he’d grown tusks over the last month or was shedding on her brand new carpet. This could all be in her head.
“Donner, I just opened this place.” The words sounded like they were coming from underwater. She wasn’t sure they were being said out loud at all. “It’s my home now. I’m starting a new life—one that for once is really mine. And we’ve been through this. I can’t go back to living in your castle and following your rules and—”
“Then I’ll live here.”
Her head knocked back so hard she felt her neck pop. “You can’t be serious.”
He was pacing in circles now, yanking at his wild black waves and staring ferociously at her every few steps. “Or you can work days and hire someone overnight. You see? I’m not asking you to give this up. I heard you loud and clear the last time—about the dresses and the cooking and getting chummy with the help. I listened. I was a horrible husband and you’re calling the shots now. I give in. I’m offering you all those things you said you wanted.”
“I have all those things I wanted,” she lied. “And you can’t live here.” The idea was both absurd and terrifying.
“Why not?”
Her skin was alternating between flashes of hot rage and shocks of icy fear. “Because you’re the King of Braddax, for goodness sake.”
“And you’re the Queen.”
She shook her head. “Not anymore.”
“You may not want to be, Belle, but you are. Unless you forged my signature on a divorce contract—which I’m pretty sure the Mirror would have broadcasted throughout the world by now—you are.”
“Only because I have to be!”
Donner stopped. She immediately bit her tongue. His head cocked to the side—like Beast’s when she accidentally said “walk” or “eat.” And just like then, she wanted to suck the words right back in and erase them from ever existing. She’d blurted them out in anger. She didn’t want him to know what Ruby had said. She didn’t want him to think he had any more leverage over her than—”
“So you do know,” he said, scratching at his chest again, pulling his shirt taut over bulging heaps of muscle.
Belle backed up until the wall caught her. So it was true. His curse was returning and he knew it. She inhaled as the realization washed over her. She’d come so close to freedom but it wasn’t meant to be. She’d have to lose everything all over again.
Then she felt him approach. She was a flower in the shade of a mountain. She zeroed in on the carpet until a rough palm settled under her chin and nudged it up.
“I didn’t want to do it this way.” His eyes bore into hers. “I really didn’t. I wanted you to come back because you believed there was still some good in me—like you did before.” He fished a sloppily folded paper from his pocket and placed it on the shelf beside her head. “But I need you to come back. So if this is the only way …”
He continued talking as Belle’s mind launched off in a thousand different directions. She pressed her head into the wall, relishing the pressure as it pushed against her skull. She rolled into it, panning the room that was never intended to fit a man … the black night sky Donner had so violently exposed … the crumpled paper with “Prenuptial Agreement” stamped out in huge, black letters.
She shoved his hand away and grabbed the paper.
“What’s this?” She pulled it inches from her face. That was her signature. Right next to his. It was dated five years earlier, on the day of their wedding.
But she’d never … or had she? She didn’t remember signing a pre-nup. But then again, that week had been completely insane. Why would she remember? One moment she was a prisoner and the next, she was becoming royalty. One moment Donner was a hideous, gnarled monster and the next, he was mesmerizing and promising her the world.
From the moment she saw him transform from a fur-covered beast to a handsome young king, to the hour she walked down the aisle in a dress worth more than her family’s cottage, she’d done everything her in-laws-to-be asked. She’d let strangers wax and pluck her. She’d switched religions. She’d pretended to enjoy caviar. She’d neither refused nor questioned anything—not even, evidently, agreeing to remain destitute should their marriage ever head south.
“What happened to me calling all the shots?” She stared, dumfounded, at the legalese.
“You still can. I said I didn’t want to do it this way, but you still have a choice.”
Belle shook her head. Some choice. It’s not that she wanted his money, but she’d paid for the inn with a loan. If her accounts went suddenly dry, could the bank take it back? Most new businesses didn’t turn a profit in the first year. But as much as it would gut her to lose the inn, there was something far more important at stake here. She could do destitute again if she had to. She would survive. But no judge would grant a bankrupt mother custody of a newborn when the father was a king. She’d have to find a way to make the Phoenix soar against all odds. She’d have to—
Her heart stopped. Her eyes dug into one sentence: Property, as aforementioned, shall refer not only to monetary assets, but also to information deemed private by either party, and to progeny.
Belle felt something curl up inside her stomach and die, spreading deathly fumes around her heart, up her throat, and into her head. Progeny. Their child. She covered her stomach and lost her balance—plummeting straight into Donner’s arms.
Through the haze, she heard him ask if she was all right. She heard him say, again, that he hadn’t wanted to bring this up … but he’d enact it if he had to. Suddenly, the curse was a theoretical splinter, whereas this was a six-inch gash. This was real—and she had no idea how to react. The world was spinning so fast, she couldn’t grab hold of anything long enough to make sense of it. Magic or no magic, Ruby was right. She couldn’t start over. She couldn’t live the life she wanted. The universe wouldn’t allow it.
She couldn’t process all of this right now. She couldn’t just say yes, let’s be a family after all. Right now it seemed like her hands were tied, but she couldn’t accept that just yet. She had to try to find a way out. She had to, at least, buy herself some time.
“Please go,” she said.
Donner’s face hardened as he processed this request and tilted Belle back to her feet.
“I’m not bluffing, Belle. I’d rather have one of you than neither. You can’t blame me for that.” He pressed his palm flat against her belly. “This is my child too.”
Belle pushed his hand away and mar
ched to the door, pulling her towel so tight she could barely breathe. She yanked on the handle and prayed all the guests were fast asleep on the second floor. She could blame Donner for just about anything if she thought hard enough, but that wasn’t the card she needed to play now. Hostility wouldn’t earn her the time she needed. Sympathy might.
“Twelve hours ago, I cut the ribbon on what was supposed to be my big, brand new life. I’ve got a house full of strangers who could be recording this entire conversation to sell to the Mirror. I’m exhausted and wet and this is coming straight out of nowhere.” She cradled her stomach and played up the fact that she was in a fragile state. “Please. Please give me some time to process this.”
Their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity, transmitting anger, fear, pain, and more anger. Donner balled his fist up but then let it drop.
“Fine.” He pressed both hands to his thighs and took a calming breath. “Okay. You need some time to process. I’ll allow—I mean, I understand that.” He spoke as if instructing himself more than speaking to her. He was choosing his words carefully, trying with all his might to hold back the rage. “But don’t test me, Belle. I’m offering to compromise now, to let you keep this place and everything you had before. But that won’t be on the table forever.”
He paused in the doorway to give an uncharacteristically bleak smile. No bright white teeth to accompany his thick, block jaw. No slant of pride or domination. Just a tiny rise, a quick fall, and a hasty goodnight peck.
Belle watched him lurk all the way down the hall before shutting the door. Without making a sound, she drifted over to the closet, stroked her bathrobe between her fingers, and yanked so hard the hanger snapped in two.
When she was sure Donner was gone, she headed out past the kitchen, around the huge oak reception desk, and into the lounge. She checked the locks five times and then found her loyal guard dog curled like soft serve ice cream beneath the coffee table. She gave him a five-second lecture about falling asleep at his post, followed it with an enormous bear hug, and then ushered him back to their room.
Exactly one hour before sunrise, Belle finally fell asleep with her mind racing, her body trembling, and her nose pressed against fresh grass stains on Beast’s silky gray fur.
Chapter Two
RAPUNZEL
From: [email protected]
Sent: Wednesday, August 25
To: cinderella.charmé@carpale.gov
Subject: Hey lady!
Hi Cin!
How’s Honeymoon Part Deux going? I know you technically just left, but I feel like I hardly saw you at the grand opening Saturday and then—poof—you were gone!
Okay, okay. I can see you shaking your head from across the ocean. I was the one who poofed. But can you really blame me? Yes, I should have stuck around a bit longer in light of Ruby’s crazy you’re-all-doomed-if-Belle-gets-divorced prophecy … but how could I pass up the pinnacle of makeup sex? The sine qua non of everything I stand for?!
Again, I sense the headshake. But when I tell you the whole story, you’ll understand. Wish I could relay this in person, but you were already bon voyaged by the time I came up for air.
So here goes. Remember that guy I told you about from wayyyy back when I was locked up in Grethel’s tower? The jerk who climbed up my hair (best magical extensions ever), proposed, promised to come back and rescue me, and then totally stood me up?! Well, you know the basics about what happened next: Grethel banished me to Carpale when she found out I’d tried to leave her. I swore to never trust another man again. The world never saw hide nor hair of Grethel from that day forward.
But … see … I never really told you guys the OTHER stuff. Like how—even if she did technically BUY me with drugs and stash me away from society for two decades—Grethel was the closest thing to a mother I’d ever known. And she wasn’t the villain everyone thinks she was. (That label better applies to the parents who sold me, don’t you think?) She was just a lonely old woman desperate for someone to love. I never told you this, but I tried a few times to find her after the tower. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was for being so naïve—for choosing a man I barely knew over the woman who raised me. I carried around the guilt for so long that when I actually found love—when I found Ethan—I didn’t think I deserved it. I pushed him away as punishment for hurting Grethel.
Only get this: I’d been wrong the whole time. THAT’S what I found out on Saturday! THAT’S why I could barely think straight. It wasn’t just because Ethan came back and I forgave him for hiding all that stuff about Belle and his royal title (a viscount may be low on the totem pole, but it’s STILL royal). It was because Ethan revealed that HE was that jerk from all those years ago!!
Only he WASN’T a jerk. He DIDN’T stand me up that day, as it turns out. He just got hung up. And when he finally made it to the tower, Grethel was there waiting to throw him thirty feet into a thicket of thorns. It took a dozen reconstructive surgeries for him to start functioning again, but he was still blind years later. That is until—hold on to something here—GRETHEL found him and restored his sight!
All this time, I was blaming an entire gender for something that never even happened! And I was punishing myself for hurting Grethel, when really she’d forgiven me and wanted me to have (I can’t believe I’m going to say this) a “happy ending” after all.
You can imagine, after a confession like that, how hard it was to come back to the party AT ALL. But I did—fantastic friend that I am. And I tried to comfort Belle after Ruby’s little tantrum, but she’d flipped off all her emotions and wasn’t having any of it. All she could talk about was feeding Beast and lighting the cherries jubilee and making sure all the guests had mints on their pillows when they stumbled drunkenly to their rooms later on.
So, yeah. Ethan and I left early and spent the next three days consummating our reunion. (Seriously, if you’ve never stayed in bed with Aaron for an entire day, I highly recommend it. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say my mind was blown in ways I never imagined possible.)
I didn’t stumble outside until this morning—when chafed skin led to an increase in conversation, and he started using words like “future” and “family.” So I’m heading over to the Phoenix now. Gotta make sure Belle doesn’t regress too much. I swear, if she contemplates returning to Donner for even ONE SECOND because of what Ruby said, I … well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’s not going to be pleasant!
Tell Aaron I said hi, and that all of Marestam will miss you guys till you’re back. Seeing Angus Kane on your throne gives me the willies.
XOXO,
Rapunzel
* * *
From: cinderella.charmé@carpale.gov
Sent: Wednesday, August 25
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Hey lady!
Pun,
Ellada is absolutely gorgeous! I mean, we only just walked out of the airport, but I can feel a change in the air already!
I’ll write more when we get to the hotel. But yes, I’m a hundred percent behind you regarding Belle. She’s come too far to get taken in by Ruby’s need to control everything. That’s probably all this is. Believe me, I owe her a lot, but sometimes that fairy can really overstep her bounds. She’s got one idea of what perfection looks like, and just can’t stand when things don’t turn out that way.
Oh, looks like Aaron just found our driver, so gotta go!
Hugs and kisses to everyone,
Cinderella
P.S. Aaron actually filled me in on Ethan after the party. I guess they got to talking while playing horseshoes—though he definitely didn’t have all those details! I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. Honestly, I thought Ethan was “THE ONE” even before I knew he pined for you in blindness for all those years.
Do NOT push him away, Pun. You found love. Whether you meant to or not.
Accept it and enjoy it.
* * *
From: [email protected]
Sent: Wednesday, August 25
To: cinderella.charmé@carpale.gov
Subject: Re: Hey lady!
THE ONE?!
Umm … let’s not go planning baby showers or anything here, K?
Chapter Three
BELLE
“Let me just recap here,” Rapunzel said, pinching up a used napkin and flinging it into the trash. “Your formerly feral, outrageously unhinged, brute of an estranged husband broke into the inn, snuck up to your bedroom while you were naked—”
“While I was in the shower,” Belle corrected, taking her frustration out on a pan plastered with feta and pesto scrambled eggs.
“Do you shower with your clothes on?”
Belle’s sponge slipped, causing her to lurch forward and whack her elbow against the side of the sink. She cursed, then sighed, then wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. As happy as she was to finally see her business partner zoom up the driveway, she was already missing being alone. “No, Rapunzel. Obviously I don’t shower with my clothes on.”
Her friend curled her purple lips up in satisfaction and knocked a raspberry curl (the flavor of the week, evidently) from her face. “As I was saying. He snuck up to your bedroom while you were naked and tried to win you back by threatening to destroy your life … again. Smart move. It’s a wonder he can eat and breathe at the same time.”
Abandoning the pan, Belle grabbed her half empty coffee mug from the microwave (reheated for the third time that morning), swirled the contents around beneath her nose, and breathed in. Alcohol, sushi, and her beloved tiramisu were strictly off limits for the next five months. But every morning, she got to indulge in one steaming hot cup of caffeinated coffee. And if her first few days running the Phoenix were any indication, she needed to cherish every drop.
