Page 112 of Beauty

ChapterThirty-Six

Bronwyn

I awaken to the smell of home. I can smell the breadthe bakers in the White Palace make for each and every meal. It’s a smell thathaunts my dreams since I fled. I tried to recreate the bread, snowy white andbuttery soft with the smallest hint of honeyed sweetness, but never get itright.

I open my eyes because no matter how lovely the smell is,this place is no longer home. I groan, my head aching. How long have I beenhere? A day at least, though it already seems like a lifetime. A day away frommy husbands. Will I ever see them again?

“The hags certainly worked you over.”

I turn my head and then wish I didn’t. Every muscle aches.I’m so, so weary. All through the long night the hags tortured me with spellafter strength-sucking spell. Pain wracked my system and then a horribleweakness overtook me.

“They’re sleeping now. They don’t sleep often, and no oneknows where they go to do it, but it seems the only time they don’t listen in.”

A blonde woman comes into view. She’s regally perfect, withher thin crown and slender figure. Cold blue eyes and a narrow chin completethe usurper queen’s appearance.

“Maris. To what do I owe this honor?” I wish I had thesaliva in my mouth to spit at the bitch.

Maris chuckles a bit. “Goddess, you’re loud. I actuallyheard that.”

My whole heart sags. I forgot. Maris is a bondmate. It’sexactly why she was engaged to my brothers. How can I pull this off if thequeen herself knows what I’m planning?

A smile curls Maris’s thin lips. “You’ve been an annoyinghum in my head for years.”

I’m so stupid. So very dumb. I should have listened to myhusbands. I’m not cut out for this. I’m just a girl. I’m still a dumb girl.

“Stop scaring her, Maris,” a deep voice says.

The queen rolls her eyes. “It’s the only fun I haveanymore.”

Niall steps out, dressed in the livery of the Queen’s Guard.“Your Highness, I see you finally made it. Though I might point out that ifwe’d done this my way, you wouldn’t have been horribly tortured last night, andmost likely for a few nights to come.”

“A little torture never hurt a girl,” Maris says. “And shelooks strong. If she’s anything like her brutish brother, then she should knowa thing or two about torture.”

Niall frowns her way. “You know he doesn’t like it when youtalk about Beck. He explained that.”

Maris nods and a bit of her bile seems to flee. “I know. Ihold on to it though because my fear of Beck’s proclivities is what got us herein the first place. Where is he?”

“Making certain the hags aren’t around,” Niall explains.“And why are you here? If your husband catches you, he’ll find us all out.”

A slender shoulder shrugs. “Torin is scared of the girl.He’s angry the hags brought her to the palace in the first place. I had tothink fast on my feet or he would have had her throat slit. Torin’s guard wouldhave done it in a heartbeat. We don’t own them, Niall. I saved her. I shouldthink he would be pleased with me.”

“Who are you talking about? Goddess, am I in some strangedream?” I ask. I’m so confused.

“Drink this.” Maris holds a cup to my mouth and forces myhead back. It slips down my throat before I can cough it back up. “Give it aminute.”

She steps back and I try to gag, but my arms are bound tightto the chair I sit in. The hags—I discovered there are two of them—cackled asthey cinched me in tight and began the ritual that will loosen my soul from mybody. Now Maris uses the bindings to force some poison on me.

Maris grins at Niall. “She thinks I killed her.”

Niall sighs and gets to one knee. “Bron, Maris is on ourside.”

I shake my head. If there is one thing I know, it’s thatMaris is an evil bitch. “No. She’s the one who let Torin in.”

Maris shrugs. “Can’t a girl make a few mistakes? Ooops. Imade the wrong move and got your parents killed. Your father has forgiven me.”

“My father?” What Niall said before comes back to me. Myfather became a sluagh and chained himself to this place. At the time I barelybelieved it. Can it be true? “My father is here?”

A cool wind seems to pass over my skin and a phantomcoalesces in front of me. My father floats, an insubstantial but welcomepresence. “Hello, my little pixie. It’s been a long while.”