Beauty and the Goblin King

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Beauty and the Goblin King Page 8

by Lidiya Foxglove


  Of course, worse than any weather was the feeling inside me, that I might never see Nyar again, that I had failed him and his people, and all I had to look forward to were my selfish sisters and the same old life I had known, where my ambitions and curiosity was discouraged.

  I recognized landmarks along the way, the ancient stones and familiar trees, and by late afternoon I was passing through the hamlet on the way to Fairhaven. People looked at me with blatant suspicion now. They already suspected I’d been off to see the goblin king, I’m sure, but with my hair cut short, I no longer fit in with the villagers.

  In Fairhaven itself, it was even worse. As I walked into town, people stared at me and whispered. I saw the brewer’s wife, a woman I had bought small beer from many a time, and she only glared at me without any greeting.

  I reached my own house, and stopped outside, putting a hand to my stomach to calm the churning dread inside me. Then I opened the door.

  Clara immediately hurried forward to greet me. “Sabela! It’s been a week! Does that mean you got the coins?”

  “I have nothing.” I was curt.

  Father and the twins entered the room now, asking the same questions.

  “What do you mean, you have nothing?” Marta asked. “What about the coins? Did he trick you? You were gone an entire week, so clearly he liked what he saw!”

  “You couldn’t even steal a single trinket?” Trixy asked. “You can’t possibly have felt bad about it, after what he’s done.”

  “Or were you terrified of him?” Clara asked. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “Finally, a bit of concern for my welfare,” I snapped.

  “Of course we’re concerned for your welfare,” Clara said. “But you do look well enough, except for your hair. What will Mr. Vedast say about that?”

  “Mr. Vedast?” I asked, wondering where that had come from. Mr. Vedast was another merchant in the town, better off than my father, but quite cutthroat in his business dealings.

  Father looked uncomfortable. “Beauty, while you were gone, word got out about where you went. Everyone thought it was very selfless of you to sacrifice yourself for the sake of the rest of us. But Mr. Vedast so admired what you had done that he was moved to ask for your hand.”

  A horrid shiver went through me. “I don’t believe it.”

  “It’s true. He came to me and—”

  “I mean, I don’t believe he admires what I’ve done. That man? He’s ruthless!”

  “He is tough as a merchant, but that’s why he’s the richest man in town,” Father said. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have personal convictions, qualities he admires in a bride. Clearly he isn’t moved by mere beauty, or else he would have offered his hand to you long ago. What he admires is your courage, your sacrifice. It couldn’t have worked out any better if I had planned it.”

  “It just figures that sleeping with a goblin is what gets Sabela a husband,” Trixy pouted.

  “I don’t want to marry Mr. Vedast,” I protested. “I…I think I could marry the goblin king. I just need to save his life. He’s not the man you think he is. He was cursed by a witch.”

  “Cursed?” Clara sniffed. “Sabela, listen to what you’re saying. Cursed or not, why do you want to marry a goblin king—king of what? A hill? Rather than a prosperous merchant?”

  “You belong here with us, Beauty,” Father said. “This is your home. This is the life you’ve always known.”

  “Goblins are ugly,” Marta said. “Mr. Vedast is handsome enough. I can’t believe you don’t even want to marry him. I wish he would ask me. It’s not fair; Sabela gets everything.”

  “Maybe we’ve thrown too much at her too quickly,” Father said. “She’s been through quite an ordeal. Why don’t you go to sleep, and things will look better in the morning. I’ll have Mr. Vedast over for dinner tomorrow so you can have a proper introduction.”

  “Don’t spend the gold, Father, please. It’s to pay for the rent! I’m not going to marry Mr. Vedast. You’ll waste it.”

  “Dearest, you’re tired. Try to put it out of your head.”

  Put ‘it’ out of my head?

  He meant Nyar.

  I could never put him out of my head.

  Really, I could hardly stand the sight of them, chattering about money and connections, grumbling that I had not brought the coins because they needed money for the feast they would put on to woo a man I hated.

  My sisters urged me to sit down and have a little warm stew and drink, and then get some sleep.

  I went to the bedroom I shared with Clara, and I felt as if I hardly recognized the place anymore. I was so homesick for my bedroom in the caverns, for my ceiling of stars. I sat down at the dressing table, regarding my face in the small mirror. I didn’t look like the same girl anymore either. My short, curling locks had a very different character from my long, heavy mane of hair. I looked just as rebellious as I felt. But even my face itself seemed older, less of an innocent girl. Did they see it? Or was it something I only felt inside?

  Downstairs, I heard my sisters still murmuring about me, but a moment later, Clara came up.

  “It will all be all right,” she told me. “Get dressed for bed. You look exhausted.” She plucked her own nightgown off the peg where it hung.

  I didn’t want to share a bed with Clara anymore. But this was my life here.

  Tomorrow, you can go to the library and look at the maps, then set off to find Keely.

  I changed into my nightgown in the corner of the room, opposite from Clara, and realized she was looking at me. She glanced down when I caught her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to stare. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t harm you.”

  “He didn’t, Clara. Truly. He treated me well. At first, he was a little rough. He didn’t trust me. But by the end, it was…very loving.”

  She looked at me with distaste. “He didn’t trust you?”

  “I tell you, Clara, he doesn’t have a choice. I expect he might have given up a long time ago, if it weren’t for his people.”

  Clara sniffed. “Well, either way, you don’t belong there. I can’t believe you cut your beautiful hair.”

  “It was too heavy anyway.”

  With a sigh, I got into bed. She soon followed, keeping well to the edge, like she thought I was tainted now. And maybe I was. Even though I was weary to the bone from walking back, I couldn’t sleep. I missed Nyar so terribly. I would have given the world to feel his hands on me, his body against mine, to hear the purr of his voice in my ear.

  If I had lost him, that meant some other woman would go to him after me. The thought pierced me like a physical pain.

  I didn’t care about the women who had come before me. Remembering how coolly he had treated me at first, I knew it had been a long time since he had kissed or held anyone the way he had me. But after—

  After, I couldn’t stand.

  Before long, I heard Clara snoring softly. The room felt warm. I would have to spend the entire night here, without Nyar’s touch.

  I didn’t dare toss and turn, and wake Clara up, but the longer I laid there in the quiet, the more my body hungered for him. I felt so empty. Moving very carefully, I dared to reach for the stone I had stolen and pushed it inside of me, but then it was almost worse. I clenched my muscles around the stone, slowly drawing sensation from the gentle friction, but I knew I would never reach the heights of my lovemaking with Nyar. I was sweating. I reached my hand down to my clit and began to stroke. My muscles clenched harder, and although I was afraid to make too much motion in the bed, I tried moving the stone up and down inside me…

  Oh please…just let me have a release. It was like the curse was contagious and I’d caught it myself.

  “Sabela?” Clara’s snoring stopped abruptly.

  So did my hands. “Yes?”

  “What are you doing over there?”

  “Nothing.” My cheeks flared with heat. I don’t think I could have felt more guilty
if she had caught me murdering someone.

  “Are you…are you thinking about the goblin king?”

  “No.”

  She made a small grunt of skepticism. “I am starting to think we don’t even know who you are anymore.”

  “It was your suggestion for me to go to him. You know I’ve always dreamed of a life beyond Fairhaven. What did you think would happen, Clara? If you didn’t think I’d enjoy it, then you must have expected it would be torture. Either way, you didn’t think much of me, did you?”

  “I thought it would teach you a lesson.”

  “Oh, it did,” I snapped. “Goodnight.”

  I tackled the morning with renewed force of will, getting dressed and pinning my hair back into something faintly respectable, planning to head off to the library.

  My foot had barely hit the bottom stair when Father said, “Sabela.”

  I froze. He never called me by my name. Clara was sitting in mother’s old chair, her hands crossed on her lap, looking prim and resigned.

  “I’m sorry, but you are not permitted to leave the house,” Father said. “Mr. Vedast is coming for dinner, and I’m just not sure I can trust you right now. I’m afraid the goblin king may have placed some sort of spell on you.”

  “Please—I just want to get a little fresh air!” My eyes shot to Clara. I knew she had told Father at least something of her suspicions about last night. Damn me, I should have controlled myself.

  “Then feel free to open a window,” Clara said. “Sabela, it’s for your own good. We don’t want you to get hurt. You have a respectable suitor now; there is no reason to keep thinking of the goblin king.”

  “You’re not my mother.”

  “Sabela, please. I know you’re upset, but I am your father, and I agree with your sister. You did what you needed to do with the goblin king, but you’re a human girl. You don’t want to turn off Mr. Vedast by seeming ungrateful for his proposal.”

  I threw up my hands. Clearly, there was no reasoning with them. “So, you’re going to forbid me from leaving the house?”

  “Yes, if we must,” Clara said. “You can help me get the house ready for the dinner. Some hard work will be good for you.”

  She rose, giving me a distasteful look. “The dining room needs a good scrubbing and dusting.”

  “What have you been doing while I’ve been gone?” I asked, but she brushed me off with some vague excuse.

  I followed her to the water pump outside to fill buckets, but I was plotting how I could sneak away from her. She obviously knew this, because she hardly let her eyes leave me for a moment.

  I tried to look like I was behaving myself. In fact, I tried to work hard because I knew this would annoy her. Clara, for all her pretensions of being the lady of the household, hated housework more than the rest of us.

  “Why don’t you do the floor and I’ll dust?” she asked, airily, but I knew it was because she didn’t want to get down on her hands and knees.

  “Fine with me!”

  I grated soap into the bucket and dipped the rag into the water. Clara stayed within sight but well out of my way, wiping dust off of all the decorative china in the hutch. There wasn’t much of it anymore. She had spread out the few remaining pieces in a desperate attempt to make the space look filled out.

  The twins were out shopping, and Father stopped in to check on us and said, “Clara, will you be all right if I go out for an hour or two?”

  “I’m sure Sabela will behave herself,” Clara said, nodding at me like, You will, won’t you?

  “I’ll be back.”

  I wondered if I could knock my sister out with a candlestick. But I might really hurt her. Or I might not succeed, and then she would probably throw me in the cellar for the rest of the day. It wasn’t as if I had any experience knocking people out. If only I had a drug to put in her tea!

  Just as I was considering my limited options, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. It made me think of the goblins. If only I had them here. I might be able to come up with a plan if the candlesticks and tea cups were on my side.

  Or…perhaps one of them was here. A handkerchief crept into the room, moving almost as if its folds were legs, and climbed into my lap.

  My eyes widened. It was the handkerchief that had been wrapped around my biscuits yesterday morning.

  “I didn’t know you could leave the caverns,” I said, in the barest whisper.

  I clutched my hands together in a silent plead, and shot a meaningful look at Clara. Can you distract her? I mostly mouthed the words.

  Maybe if the handkerchief covered her face, it would startle her enough that I could run out.

  The handkerchief lifted a corner like a finger, then crept over to Clara.

  “So many nice things,” she was muttering to herself. “It’s a shame we had to sell so many of them already. Mr. Vedast would have been more impressed by the silver…”

  “No use having the silver without servants to polish it,” I said, stretching my back, getting ready to make a move. “You wouldn’t have wanted to do it. You grumble enough about the lamps.”

  “Well, we all should learn the value of a little sweat,” she said, as if I was the one who had been complaining.

  She put the plate she had been dusting away, then put her hands on the doors of the hutch to close them.

  Quick as a flash, the handkerchief flew up and wrapped itself around her wrist and the handle of the hutch.

  “What on earth?” Clara tried to tug her hand away and the handkerchief twisted itself as tight as it could and tied into a viciously tiny, tight knot.

  This was not quite what I had in mind, but—it would do.

  Clara was trying to undo the knot with her free hand. “Sabela, is this some witchcraft?”

  I bolted for the door.

  I could hear her behind me, yanking on the door of the hutch, trying to pull free. “Sabela!”

  I ran into the street, racing for the library. I was tempted to simply pick one of the roads leading north and try my luck, but I didn’t have much money, and Father could send a search party after me. I didn’t have time to get lost on the roads. Checking a map first was necessary. All I needed to know was which road ultimately led to Pony’s Brook.

  I ducked down a back alley, hoping to avoid notice. I had to slow my steps before entering the library, so I didn’t look too suspicious. It was quiet inside, as usual, with the sweet smell of paper. I used to think it was enormous but Nyar’s library was the same size, and better, because it wasn’t full of men who gave me a glance like I didn’t belong there. The library was technically open to women, but men always outnumbered them. Men were more likely to be encouraged to educate themselves.

  I knew the library well, so I moved straight to the books of maps and pulled out a book covering our region. It was hard to do the tedious work of looking up indexes and scouring maps when my heart was practically springing out of my chest, sure that at any moment, Clara would come bursting in to drag me home. My head kept darting toward the door, like a squirrel or a rabbit who always looks up while eating, watching for predators.

  My eyes swept over the pages. There. The small creek was only about a day’s walk north of here. I had no food or money, so I wasn’t looking forward to the journey, but I’d get there if I had to beg, borrow, or steal.

  The door to the library banged open and out of pure instinct I dove under a table.

  It was Clara, with one of the city guards. “There she is,” she said, pointing at me.

  I might have been able to elude Clara, but I wasn’t about to have all the men in the library see me dragged off by the city guard. They were already staring. I crawled out from under the table with as much dignity as I could muster, and walked up to them, surrendering myself. I met Clara’s eyes.

  “Are you here to arrest me? On what charge?” I glanced at the guard, a clean-cut young man.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing.” She leaned closer to me. “Do you
want to be known as a witch?”

  “You know perfectly well that I’m not a witch. If I was, I would have had a much easier time getting away.”

  “Come on, miss,” the guard said, urging me toward the door. “It sounds like you have a busy evening ahead.” He sounded more bemused than anything. I suppose guards dealt with more family squabbles than I expected. Fairhaven was usually a pretty peaceful place.

  I was escorted home in humiliation, trying to smother my panic. Clara would never trust me again, which was just as well, because I didn’t trust her either, but I still needed to get away.

  “Where is the handkerchief?” I asked her.

  “The handkerchief that attacked me? I don’t know. It escaped.”

  At least that was one relief. I was afraid she might have burned it or cut it to bits. I had already lost Knife.

  Although no one knew what I had been doing at the library, everyone guessed I had been plotting escape. My family didn’t understand, and how could I blame them? They didn’t know the beauty of the caverns or how the pain of Nyar’s situation ripped at my heart, the magic of the moonlight or anything else I had experienced.

  When Father got home, he locked me in my room and told me, his voice tinged with regret, that I had to wait there until Mr. Vedast came. “And you had better be on your best behavior when we let you out, my Beauty, please. We’re all counting on you.”

  Although my bedroom was on the second floor, I still considered jumping out one of the windows. But if I broke my leg, I really wouldn’t be able to help Nyar.

  As I was pacing the room, the handkerchief crawled out from under the bed. It moved nervously, reminding me of a shy animal, but I was happy beyond reason to see it. “There you are!” I whispered. “Thank you for earlier.”

  It folded over in a sort of bow.

  “I’m keeping you close,” I said. “Hopefully I won’t need you again. I have a plan.” I explained my plan to find Keely to the handkerchief, even though it couldn’t respond. It might like to know what it was getting into. Then I tucked the handkerchief in my apron pocket.

 

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