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

by Brittany Fichter

  “Tomorrow morning,” Sacha said, “you will stand before your kingdom. I’ve already summoned as many people from Soudain as will fit in your courtyard and down the mountain road. They will bear witness to the change of crown. I will finish this spell, and you will burn from the inside out. And after they watch you die, they will know who their queen is!”

  “You do not have the power for something so dark.” Isa fought to stay upright as she stood beside the bubbling mixture of evil. “I can feel your heart, and it is dark, but it is only so strong.”

  “Perhaps you are correct, and I do not have the power. But my son does.”

  Immediately, Isa’s vision adjusted, and she could see more clearly. That this woman would dabble in the dark arts was bad enough. But to involve Henri? Isa clenched her fists, wishing with all her heart that she might knock the woman into oblivion. And then it occurred to her. A question that no one should have to ask a mother, but one that might allow Isa a peek into her heart.

  “Do you love your children?” Isa asked.

  “What?” Sacha had bent over a thick book on the large wooden table. In it were all sorts of drawings of circles and stars and herbs.

  “Do you love your children?” Isa demanded more loudly this time. And as she did, she was suddenly caught up in a vision.

  Generally, Isa could sense the temperature of the hearts of those around her, sensing both their truth and showing them the real truth at the same time. But this vision was much stronger than any she had ever experienced before. It wasn’t just a feeling. Isa saw into the woman’s very soul.

  “You’re afraid of them!” she gasped. She could feel Sacha grab a handful of her dress and shove her up against a wall, but the vision was still too strong to escape.

  “I fear no one!”

  “You’re going to kill them!” Isa watched in horror as all the woman’s plans and imaginings came to life before her own eyes. Repeatedly and in different ways, she watched the children die. As her sight returned to her, Isa realized Sacha had her elbow across Isa’s chest and shoulders. Sacha clapped her other hand over Isa’s mouth and leaned in close. Isa bit her on the hand.

  “You hate them,” Isa shoved Sacha off and continued in a rush, “because they’re too familiar for your comfort! You thought you wanted them, until you came back and found them just as you were once, unwanted half-breeds. Henri especially! He frightens you with his power. It’s growing quickly, and leans far more to the Fortress than the Fae.” Isa felt like she could sing for joy. A fierce joy.

  Sacha dashed over to the cauldron. Lifting a large ladleful of the brown liquid up to her lips, she began to whisper into it. Immediately, a sharp burning, like holding a candle too close to the skin, began to eat its way through Isa’s insides. Isa’s knees hit the ground with a sharp crack, but it was nothing compared to the continuous scorching inside. Sacha said something, but Isa couldn’t hear it over the pain. Two sets of hands grabbed Isa by the shoulders, but just after they had lifted her, Isa felt someone take ahold of her hair and yank it back.

  “For all that talk of being the Fortress’s chosen queen, the Fortress doesn’t seem to care much about you now, does it?” Sacha whispered. And with that, Isa was dragged all the way back to the dungeon.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The Condemned

  The Fae guards tossed Isa down into the dungeon, worsening the pain that already racked her body. The fire still burned inside, so hot that Isa couldn’t seem to find her voice to cry. Whether or not Ever was still on the ground, Isa couldn’t tell, nor did she have the strength to look. She could only draw her knees to her chest and silently beg the Maker to extinguish the fire inside her, to kill her if He must, but to just end the pain.

  One arm was slipped beneath her knees and another behind her back. “I tried to go after you,” Ever whispered hoarsely, “but I’m not strong enough—”

  “Heal me!” she gasped into the darkness.

  “What did she do?”

  “Just do it!” she tried to scream, the fire clawing its way up her throat. “It’s burning me!”

  “I can’t heal you if I don’t know what she did!”

  “Sorthileige, Ever!”

  One hand was placed on her head, and another on her stomach. A weak blue glow began to move into her. But the longer she waited, the more scorched her insides felt. No relief trickled through like the cool stream Isa had expected. She moaned, and tears streamed down her face as he tried again and again. But he couldn’t seem to manage a fire greater than anything Henri might have produced.

  Ever finally shook his head. “It’s too strong. It’s the sick tent, all over again.”

  The fire continued inside her continued to burn, but his words cleared a hole in the cloud of smoke that filled her mind. Isa clenched her teeth and fought to slow her breathing. She focused on what little precious truth she knew.

  Sacha was terrified. Though Isa couldn’t see exactly what she feared, the woman’s fear was nearly visceral. In her fear, Isa was sure that Sacha would use no less than all the powers she could summon. And though that meant she was using her Fortress fire, as well as the Sorthileige, it also meant that she would be using her Fae powers, too.

  And the Fae power was only a lie.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, drops of release began to drip through her. And though the pain was still there, Isa could finally breathe again. Weary, she let herself droop against her husband. For a long time, they lay that way, Ever against the wall, and Isa against Ever.

  “I tried to go after you,” he said again into her hair. “As soon as Garin’s power began to clear my mind, I fought them, but I wasn’t strong enough yet.”

  Isa didn’t think she’d ever heard so much shame in his voice. “Shhh. You did nothing wrong. I went on my own accord.” She twitched as a tongue of flame licked her chest.

  “This is my fault,” he said into her hair. Isa wanted to ask how that was so, but talking was still hard. “Sacha offered to heal you,” he continued. “She said that if I was willing to leave Destin and never return, she would lift the curse on you. We could go somewhere quiet and alone.” His voice moved to a whisper. “She gave us the chance to be happy. And I threw that chance away.”

  Isa squeezed his hand. “I’ve seen enough of her heart,” she croaked. “She would have chased us down eventually. There’s,” she paused to swallow, her mouth unbelievably dry, “no way she would have allowed us to live. She’s too frightened.”

  “I feel like I’ve asked the Fortress a hundred times in the last hour, a thousand times in the last month, why it would let this happen.” He began to rub his hand up and down her back, and though it didn’t help quench the fire, the touch was at least comforting.

  “All I can imagine is this.” She pulled back to look up at him. Even in the weak light of the candle, the sheen of sweat on his face was easily visible, as was its unusual pallor. “We have asked the Fortress why in all of our darkest hours. When the curse was cast. When Nevina attacked. When Bronkendol nearly killed my brother.” Isa drew a deep breath. The more she spoke, the less the power the fire seemed to possess. “But we never question the Fortress when the good happens. Why were we brought together, despite our hatred for one another? Why did the Fortress use my kidnapping to show me my true strength? Why were Henri and Genny pushed into our lives? For every why there has been a gift… one that neither of us deserved.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I may have little strength left in me, but in my heart... I feel peace.”

  Whether the burning was truly beginning to dull, or whether she was just beginning to go numb, Isa didn’t know, but she was immensely grateful for whichever was bringing her relief. And with it, clarity of mind. “We need to fight this. She’s going to execute us at dawn.”

  “And just how do you propose we do that?” His burning eyes locked onto hers. “I’m improving, but I’m not exactly battle fit. And please do not take offense, dear, but you are hardly looking well rested and ready yourself.” />
  “Ever, she’s going to kill the children.”

  He stiffened beneath her. “She wouldn’t dare.” His voice was deadly. “They’re her children.”

  “I think she always meant to be reunited with them, but Henri threatens her. He’s far more powerful than she expected.” She paused. “And I think you are right in that we cannot defeat her.” She paused. “But,” she brushed a piece of hair from his eyes, “the Fortress can. And as for me, I’ve seen too much not to trust the Fortress. And I will not be taken quietly.”

  They were silent for a long time. Ever stroked her hair as Isa snuggled beneath his chin. Her stomach, chest, and even her arms and legs still hurt, as though she’d left them uncovered in the summer sun for hours and hours. But she was well enough to think and pray and hope. Ever, as usual, was closed off. She could still feel the pain and shame flowing from him like an overflowing river, but his exact emotions were hidden. Please Fortress, she thought, yearning overtaking her as it never had before. Let me know his heart. Before we die, break down his walls, and let me know him!

  Then it hit her. For weeks, they had studied the ancient writings in the Tower of Annals. They had hunted for their enemy, and they had tried to take the kingdom back by force. In the same way, Isa had been trying to shove the truth in her husband’s face whenever she thought he needed it, then she’d allowed frustration to take her when he failed to see the light. Isa had been wielding the truth like a hammer to prove to everyone that she was right. And yet, the peace she felt now was anything but a weapon. Instead, it was gentle and quiet.

  And the most potent she had ever felt in her life.

  She moved in stilted, slow movements until she was kneeling before him. With shaking hands, she took his shoulders in her hands. “Kiss me.”

  Ever leaned forward. The kiss he gave her wasn’t nearly the passionate, exuberant, wild kiss she’d been wishing for back in the southern forest. But it was real. As his lips softly molded to her own, Isa breathed out the peace that was within her. For her peace was the truth. Whatever the Fortress had planned for them, it would be for the best. Perhaps they would be saved, or perhaps they would join Garin in eternal bliss. If that happened, maybe Henri would one day become the great king the people deserved, despite his mother’s intentions. Then, when it was their time, Henri and Genny would join them in eternity as well. The pain for Isa and Ever would be only a moment in comparison to eternity. But for the short seconds they might suffer here, the Fortress would be with them through whatever fire they might walk. The Fortress had never failed them before. It would not fail them now.

  As she poured the truth of her own heart into the kiss, Ever’s own kiss grew eager and even desperate. Gripping her arms, he pulled her tightly against him. He trembled, but for the first time, she could sense that his shaking wasn’t from fear, or even from the poison. His mouth was hungry, kissing her lips, her temples, her neck in turn. His fingers wove themselves into her hair, and Isa closed her eyes, thanking the Fortress for bringing him back, not just from death’s door, but also from despair. Pain still lived in his heart, as it did in hers. But his determination was quickly beginning to eclipse that pain.

  And then, as if the heavens had exploded above her, Isa saw into Ever’s heart. Resentment for his father, like the color of dried blood. White hot mourning for the loss of his mentor. Sunbeam yellow streaks of pride for his men and the kingdom he loved so much. A brilliant violet surprised her with its intensity, mourning the child they’d never had and the children they were losing now. The black of a bottomless pit for his sister and the pain she’d caused them. A wave of silver thanksgiving and devotion to the Maker and the Fortress. In that moment, though, the overwhelming flood of emotion was his desire for her.

  Until that moment, Isa had never understood just how deeply her husband needed her. Memories of their early days were a deep hue of twilight blue, interwoven with more recent memories of emerald green, the color of summer grass. But most of all, Ever’s heart was red like spring’s first rose, so great was his love for her. Isa sighed into his kiss, her pain suddenly overshadowed by her bliss. His heart was marvelous.

  How long they lingered in that kiss, Isa couldn’t say. Again and again, his hands explored her face and her neck before sliding down to the small of her back. In turn, she also memorized his features, the curve of his stubbled jaw, the straight lines of his neck, the way his arms felt as he wrapped them around her.

  “I am greatly curious to see,” she finally leaned back and let out a short breathless chuckle, “how we might find our way out of this predicament. I think I should like more nights like this, rather than letting this one be our last. The last time we were in prison, Garin had the plan.”

  “First of all,” Ever nuzzled her jaw with his nose, “I think this getting thrown into prison is a terrible habit that we ought to break. It sets a bad example for our children.”

  Isa giggled. Our children. How her heart soared when he uttered those words.

  “Second,” Ever said, “whatever my sister has planned for us, we will face with dignity and faith.” He took her face between his hands, and with his thumbs, he traced the circles beneath her eyes. “Do you forgive me, Isa?”

  “For what?”

  “Despairing.” He shook his head. “If I have learned anything, it is never to underestimate this Fortress.” He softly turned her head to place a lingering kiss on her cheek. “Or you.” Then his lips were on hers again, and he hugged her so tightly to him that Isa’s ribs hurt. “I do not know what destiny is ours,” he whispered in her ear. “So for now, in this moment we have been given, I will no longer ask why.”

  “What will you do then?” Isa’s heart beat fast.

  “I am going to give thanks and enjoy these beautiful moments with my wife.” His voice was suddenly gravelly and breathless once again.

  In spite of their dingy, dark surroundings, and their pending executions in the morning, Isa’s happiness became one she had never known before.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  What Little Strength

  Isa woke with a start as the dungeon door banged open. It took her a few hard blinks in the light of the torch before she could clearly make out the Fae, who seemed to be holding the door open for them. Her determination to fight was still there, of course, but Isa wouldn’t have minded just a few more hours of rest before they faced whatever nightmare Sacha had prepared for them.

  When Isa tried to get up, though, Ever’s arms stayed tightly wrapped around her, holding her to the ground. “I am afraid you shall have to tell us what exactly you want us to do,” Ever said, shrugging helplessly. Isa glanced up to see his face full of innocence. He was taunting them. “That lovely hemlock did a lovely job of addling my mind, you know.”

  “Her majesty wants you,” was the Fae’s terse reply.

  “Do you hear that, my dear?” Ever looked down at her, his smile polite, and his eyes gleaming mischievously. “We have a queen calling for us!” He looked back up at the guards, still smiling pleasantly. “Send our regards, and please apologize for our absence, but as you can see, we are quite busy, and cannot spare a second. Perhaps,” he wiggled his eyebrows at Isa, “we should send a gift to make up for our absence. Do you suppose a stuffed pig would be to her liking?”

  The Fae didn’t respond, but Isa felt something in the creature’s heart flutter. She wiggled out of her husband’s arms and stepped through the open cell door. The Fae’s eyes widened as he approached, but he stayed still.

  “Isa?” Ever’s voice was no longer mocking.

  Isa placed her hand on the Fae’s arm and looked deep into his green misty eyes. What she felt from his heart surprised her. “You were not meant for this world,” she whispered.

  The Fae didn’t answer, only stared sadly. His attitude was very different from that of the Fae Isa had encountered earlier.

  “Why do you follow her?”

  “Because... we deserve more?” it said slowly.

 
Isa studied him, reaching deep within his heart. And while she couldn’t put her finger on any one emotion, she could suddenly see why the Maker had created such a realm for them, one that was pliable and ready for shaping again and again. They were too changing, too fluid to live in a world with rules and hard structure. They were meant to wander. If they continued to reside in Destin, it would not only injure the Destinians, but the Fae would die as well.

  “You need to go home,” she whispered.

  The Fae only continued looking at her with his large, frightened eyes, shivering slightly every few moments. Suddenly, he tilted his head, as if listening. “Come.”

  When Ever joined her, he no longer wore his obnoxious smirk. Instead, he allowed the Fae to bind his hands behind his back, slipping Isa a wry smile as he did and assuring her that he remembered. The plan they’d pieced together the night before wasn’t as glamorous as anything Garin would have come up with, but it rested on the Fortress’s faithfulness and on Isa’s revelation about Ever’s heart.

  They were herded across the Fortress and up the tower steps. During their long walk, Isa was relieved to see that Ever’s gait was once again strong and sure. Garin’s gift seemed to have restored at least most of Ever’s health. Now if only Isa, too, could survive whatever horrors Sacha had planned for them. Isa’s whole body ached, and she felt as though she might drop into a deep sleep at any moment. If she was still able to stand by the time they reached the annals, Isa would count it as a miracle.

  When they finally entered the tower, Sacha and her Fae waited out on the balcony in the dim gray of early morning. The tower’s balcony was wide enough to hold at least a dozen men between the window wall and the ledge, but crossing it felt to Isa like a lifetime of its own. She knew what awaited her, but her heart still caught in her throat as she neared the edge enough to see below. Just as Sacha had promised, the Fortress’s front lawn and the road down the mountain were filled with hundreds of people. Fathers, mothers, and children, old and young alike were there to witness their demise. From the crowd, however, there was none of the bravado or excitement she’d felt from the mob on the day the Fortress was taken. Instead, Isa sensed overwhelming fear rising like a storm cloud nearly full to bursting. These people didn’t want Isa or Ever to die, she realized. They’d only come because they were summoned.