Beauty Beheld: A Retelling of Hansel and Gretel (The Becoming Beauty Trilogy Book 3)

by Brittany Fichter

  “When I lived with my father and stepmother,” Henri spoke slowly, “I never felt like I belonged. The cottage was there, and my family was there. I only cared about Genny though. But here,” he took a deep breath and looked at his feet. “I don’t know how to say it...” He shook his messy golden hair, a look of frustration on his face. “Here I feel like there’s someone watching out for me. For both of us. Like when those things came.” He nodded at the bedroom. “Genny’s been saying there’s a monster beneath her bed for four days. But it didn’t come out until—” He stopped and looked up in wonder. “Until you and Miss Isa were back to protect us.”

  Ever felt his heart stop. The Fortress had answered his prayers, even as he had uttered them on the tower steps less than an hour before.

  “Meet me in the Tower,” he said to Isa. “There is something urgent we must do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Sealing Words

  “Forgive me, sorry for taking so long,” Isa said as she shut the tower’s heavy door, her copper hair falling prettily out of place. When she turned, her eyes were wet with tears. “Genny was still upset, and it was nearly impossible to get them to go down the mountain without—” She stopped when she saw Ever and Garin standing at the heavy wooden table. Garin stood by the fire and Ever stood across from him, and between them on the table were laid two parchments. One was the ancient scroll that Garin had removed from the chest earlier that afternoon. The other was a new parchment, which had been written out by Garin himself upon Ever’s request.

  “What is this?” she asked breathlessly, looking back and forth between the parchments and the men standing before her. Finally, her gaze came to rest on Ever. Ever went to her, feeling suddenly as nervous as he had the moment he’d asked her to marry him. There were dark bags under her eyes, the same ones Ever wore constantly now, too. But in that moment, the flush of her cheeks and the slight parting of her lips was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Gently he leaned down for a kiss, which she gladly gave him. Then he placed his forehead against hers.

  “Garin has found the vow for Blood Sealing,” he said in a voice that didn’t sound at all like his own. Ever’s voice was always confident, nearly always loud, and never betrayed any uncertainty. But now it wavered like an adolescent youth’s.

  “Blood Sealing?”

  “You were right.” Ever stepped back to search her midnight eyes. “Those children are creations of the Maker, just the same as you and I. They need love, and they need a home.” He took her right hand and drew it up to his mouth, kissing each finger softly in turn. “I was stubborn and foolish—”

  An amused snort sounded from behind him, but Ever ignored the steward and continued.

  “As always, I wanted to protect the kingdom in my own way. But the Fortress has opened my eyes.”

  Isa’s eyes grew wide. “Really?” she whispered.

  “If you are willing, then we will complete the Blood Sealing now,” Ever said. At this, a radiant smile began to form, but Ever held up his hand. “Before you make a decision, you need to know that should we ever have a child, he will be third in line for the throne. There will be no distinction between my siblings and our children, for they will be sealed as our own bone and blood. I have read the text, and there is no way out of the covenant once it is made.” He drew her closer. “Are you prepared for that?” he whispered.

  “Absolutely.” She didn’t even blink. When Ever gave her a wary look, her smile became fierce, and she clutched his hands tightly. “These children were given to us for a purpose, Ever! I don’t know why or how, but I know these children need our love. And,” she paused, reaching up to touch his face, “we need theirs, you as much as I. Only,” she paused, looking down the mountain through the window wall, “do we have time? Sacha could be here any moment!”

  “I have word that Sacha has been spotted hiding in the forest west of Soudain. We have at least two hours. But even if it wasn’t so,” he took her hands in his, “I believe the Fortress desires this, what we are doing now. It will provide us the time we need.”

  Isa responded with an even brighter smile.

  “Then,” Garin said, “let us begin.” Clearing his throat, he began to read from the ancient scroll that he had translated earlier that afternoon. Though Ever didn’t need the translation, Isa had not learned the old tongue, so it was for her that Garin read. Ever wanted her to know what they were doing through and through.

  “The almighty Maker has seen it fit that man and woman should be joined in marriage, and they should beget children,” Garin began in a low, clear voice. “At times, Darkness shall interrupt this sacred order, and such Darkness will work its contrivances, disease, illness, and evil to separate parent from child and child from parent. In the event that such harm should infiltrate man’s native familial roles and interrupt such circles of devotion, the Maker has also seen it fit to bring new life to a man’s empty home and new love to a desolate woman’s arms.”

  A tear rolled down Isa’s face, but when Garin paused, she quickly brushed it away and just shook her head. Garin continued.

  “For the Maker finds it pleasing to confuse the schemes of Evil, making it his desire and plan for evil’s personal wiles to ultimately submit and serve the purposes of good. For this covenant such good will be borne by joining bone to bone, blood to blood, and flesh to flesh. Parents and children who were parted will become one, and there will be no difference between begetting and vowing. What is vowed once will never be broken, for such a forged bond cannot be severed in the Maker’s sight.”

  Garin looked up over his spectacles at Ever and then Isa. “If you are ready, my queen, you will take your vows first. Please present your ring.”

  Isa looked surprised but held out her left hand. The heavy blue crystal in her ring and its swirling silver filigree flashed in the light of the hearth’s fire and bounced off of the glass walls, which were now orange with the sunset’s glow. Garin poured a little pool of silver wax upon the new parchment. Then he took Isa’s hand and guided her ring into the wax, and as he held it there, he instructed her to repeat after him.

  “Mortal bodies, precious ways...” he said.

  “Mortal bodies, precious ways,” she echoed.

  “I will love you all my days. There in sorrow, there in joy, heartache e’er will be destroyed.”

  As she followed Garin through the vows, Isa’s voice became stronger and more resolute. Her chin lifted, and for the first time in a long time, Isa looked neither tired nor sad.

  “Now it is your turn, Your Highness,” Garin said, nodding to Ever. Again, he poured more wax, and guided Ever’s signet ring to it, holding it there for the duration of the vow.

  “Repeat after me. Holy vows and lonely kin, never will you be again. Fighting as with sword and bow, in my heart you’ll stay and grow.”

  As Ever said the words, he wondered at how such beautiful words had never been used. Surely some king or queen had seen and pitied an orphaned child sometime in the last thousand years, even making it only a third or fourth born. And yet, here they were once again, doing what no king or queen had ever done before. But then, since they’d met and married, he and Isa had never been the sort to follow tradition’s path.

  “In the eyes of the Maker, the Fortress, and I, your witness,” Garin said, letting go of Ever’s hand, “you have completed the blood seal. The children are now yours.”

  Ever turned to look at his wife, then back at his steward. Such a short ceremony to reap such large consequences. He was a father now. And his wife, a mother. And yet, he didn’t feel any differently. Was he supposed to?

  “What now?” Isa asked. Before Garin could answer a knock sounded at the door.

  “Please forgive my intrusion,” one of their personal guards called out, “but I could not delay. Sacha is approaching the Fortress, Sire. She and her followers should be here within the hour.”

  “Thank you.” Ever was already headed downstairs, clutching Isa’s hand tigh
tly, when the guard caught them and spoke again.

  “There is one more thing you should know, Your Highness. She is spreading the word as to what she is planning.”

  “And that would be?”

  The guard paused and looked at the floor.

  “She’s telling the people, Your Highness, that the Fortress has abandoned you this night. She will be made queen. And you will die.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Sacrifice

  Isa couldn’t help crying as they sent off the last of the servants. The tears didn’t absorb into her sleeves, though, as she was now in her battle dress. The leather leggings beneath her gown and the long leather sleeves that covered her arms and the tops of her hands were meant to keep water out. Well, that was fine then, Isa thought. If she was meant to let the tears dry on her face, then so be it. It only served to stoke the fire within her.

  By the time Isa returned from dismissing the rest of the servants, Ever was already in the throne room. Despite her sorrow, Isa marveled at the warrior sitting in the throne beside hers. Ever wore his full battle armor as well. His large shoulders looked even more massive, as did his chest, beneath their steel coverings. Chain mail covered his sides and the lower part of his neck. Whether for ceremony or intimidation, she wasn’t sure, Ever had donned his crown, a piece he rarely touched. But now, as it sat upon his brow, it only served to make him look even more fearsome with its blue gems glinting in the bright light of the thousands of candles that lit the throne room.

  As she drew near, Ever stood and walked to her, holding Isa’s own diadem. Thinner than his, with silver ivy upon the gold that matched her blue crystal ring, the queen’s crown was the loveliest creation Isa had ever seen, and as such, she was rather hesitant to wear it except for ceremony. But now, he gently placed it upon her head.

  “This is so that we remember who we are,” he said softly, “no matter what she says.”

  Isa’s throat tightened, and she had the sudden urge to kiss her husband as she never had before, a desperate, urgent kiss that would have done dangerous things to her concentration. Instead, however, she merely took his hand and held it as tightly as she could. His return grip was just as fierce.

  “She’s coming!” a guard called out from the hall. Isa closed her eyes. I don’t understand, Fortress. Why?

  Warm, familiar fingers placed themselves under her chin, and when she opened her eyes, Ever was inches from her face. “Together,” he said.

  Isa nodded, and then he led her up the steps of the dais. Once she was on her throne, he sat in his. The wait felt like eternity as the approaching party made a ruckus in their attempt to open the great doors of the Fortress’s front hall. Wordlessly, four of their five remaining guards appeared beside them. The Fortress’s holy man, and finally Garin, joined them last. As he often did during ceremonies, he stood just behind the two thrones, where he could be quickly consulted should the need arise.

  The air was heavy, as though someone had placed a giant boulder upon the earth itself, pressing everything down beneath it. Isa reached out and tested the hearts of her little group. Fear was the overwhelming emotion, but the guards bore it well. Garin was angry more than anything else, and had a good deal of dread as well, something Isa could only guess would come from seeing one’s people for the first time in five centuries. Ever’s heart, as usual, was more hidden. Trying to read it was like trying to see the bottom of a pond while the water was being splashed about. His face was like granite. Once again, Isa wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss it, melting away the man of stone into the gentle, kind husband she knew so well. But now was not the time. Now was the time to wait. And pray.

  If only the Fortress would listen.

  “Your Highness,” the fifth guard called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “A woman is here, demanding entrance. She claims to be the rightful queen.”

  “Let her in,” Ever said in a voice so calm it surprised even Isa. And it was a good thing, too. Isa’s response would have included words not fit for a lady, much less a queen. As they waited, she squeezed the silver-veined marble arms of her throne until her fingers hurt. At first, when she’d heard that Sacha was in Soudain, Isa had been filled with fear, like their guards. But with each passing moment, the fear began to flee, and raw determination took its place. Ever’s sister or not, this woman had much to answer for.

  And Isa was determined to make her do just that.

  Sacha did not carry herself like a queen as she stomped past the guard into the throne room. Her long, exaggerated strides reminded Isa more of a dog’s gait when it was warning others to keep off its territory.

  People crowded in behind her, their dark rags and garments standing out vividly against the pristine white of the marble walls that surrounded them. Most of them were poor, and many were dirty, no doubt from their long trek, if they had followed Sacha all the way from the south. Isa wondered how Sacha’s gaudy golden dress had stayed so clean after traveling all the way up from the southern forests. Even on a horse, Isa’s clothes had never stayed so clean. The size of her puffed sleeves and the hundreds of jewels that bedecked the bodice of her gown were so numerous that Isa was sure they must be illusions as well. She was tempted to use her power to see, but then decided against it. She was likely to need all of her strength very soon. So instead, Isa sat up even straighter, pressing her spine up against the hard back of the throne.

  Sacha came to a stop just at the foot of the dais. A number of hooded figures, probably three dozen at least, surrounded her, the nasty hemlock leaves swaying gently from leather thongs, tied beneath the pointed ends of their crudely hewn staffs. The citizens that accompanied the party filled in behind and around them, their whispers and tittles creating a low buzzing sound, like many bees in a hive.

  Isa closed her eyes briefly and tested the hearts before her. Fear. Anger. Hate. Uncertainty. There were hundreds, too many to count. And, to Isa’s disappointment, there were at least a few dozen children in their midst as well. Would these people ever stop bringing their children to dangerous gatherings?

  “Brother. I have come to stake my claim to the throne.” At the sound of Sacha’s voice, the crowd went silent, looking back and forth between their king and queen and the usurper.

  Isa chafed inside. Could no one remember her place in all of this? “Actually,” Isa called out, lifting her chin and making certain her voice didn’t wobble, “It is me that you should be addressing.”

  Sacha gave her a strange look, to which Isa allowed herself a small, victorious smile.

  “The throne was mine first.”

  Sacha looked momentarily taken aback, and Isa allowed her half-grin to grow, reveling in the woman’s temporary confusion. Sacha had hidden her feelings from Isa very well during that first meeting, but with each encounter since, Isa had become more convinced that the woman was loathe to do so. In fact, she seemed to struggle greatly with not giving wind to her whims. Even now, her emotions wreaking havoc with her carefully laid plans. Even without her gift, Isa would have been able to tell such from the woman’s stunned expression.

  There were a few moments of silence before Sacha brought her face under control once more. “But you are a Fortier now, are you not?” she asked impatiently.

  “I am.”

  “Well, I am, too.” Sacha turned to the crowd and raised her voice. “Your late King Rodrigue was my father first, before he sired Everard.” She turned back to Isa and Ever. “And therefore, I challenge you for this throne.”

  “And how do you propose to do such a thing?” Isa was amazed at Ever’s calm. For all the vague turmoil she could feel within him, his face was completely impassive, his voice, unshaken. Meanwhile, Isa was boiling. “As my holy man, and many of these citizens here can attest to,” Ever swept his arm out over the throng of hundreds that had now gathered before them, “we took the sacred vows. The Fortress has accepted us as its servants.”

  Sacha stared at them, and all at once, Isa could see what Ga
rin had meant about the Fae changing so very quickly. The speed at which Sacha, who could only have been half Fae, changed her mood reminded Isa of how quickly a storm cloud might change its shape, being tossed about and remolded continuously by the winds. Just being near her was giving Isa a headache.

  Just then, the woman’s eyes focused, then nearly popped. “It can’t be,” she muttered.

  “Oh,” Garin said in a dry voice, stepping so that he was standing between the two thrones, “but it is.”

  “How did the traitor live?” she bellowed, turning to some of her hooded cohorts. “It has been nearly five hundred years!” She looked back at Garin. “Stories are told of your treachery!”

  “Then how do you know I am he?” Garin’s voice was taunting now.

  “I would know a Fae when I see one, particularly one who is the king’s lapdog!”

  Isa heard the holy man gasp, as did a fair number of the citizens in their midst. Isa and Ever hadn’t made that bit of Garin’s past known to the public, but it was too late to care now. Isa kept her eyes forward.

  “It would seem the Maker has still a purpose for me then, wouldn’t it?” Garin snapped. “Or I wouldn’t be here.”

  Sacha stood silent for so long that Isa wondered if she might faint. Isa could sense her heart racing in frantic, stilted bursts. Finally, however, she merely tucked a single piece of straight, golden hair behind her ear before shouting at someone behind her. “Get the child!”

  Isa’s mouth tasted sour as a little boy was brought forward. He looked to be around five years of age, just a bit older than Genny, and Isa vaguely remembered seeing him as one among the kidnapped. A surge of dismay hit her from the right, and Isa turned to see Ever staring at the child as well. Not a muscle moved in his stony face, but he paled infinitesimally.

  “Before you make this challenge,” Isa spoke, hoping to give Ever time to recover himself, “you should all know that this woman is the one who took your children and grandchildren in the first place. It was she that I met in the otherland beyond the veil. She was the one who cursed your children before returning them to you.”