Page 33 of Beauty

“I am now.”

Dellacourt smiles. “Then take a seat, Your Highness.Consider this your first briefing.”

I sit, and the vampire begins to speak.

Chapter Nine

Bronwyn

The late-afternoon light is warm on my skin as Istand in the middle of the town square, music and laughter all around me. TheFestival of Threshing. The agricultural provinces all have their own ways tocelebrate the hard work of the season. Here there will be a small party for thethreshing and a huge feast after harvest is done. But I won’t be around for thefeasting this year. I’ll be on the road, these people I came to care about leftbehind.

I watch the children dance around the maypole, the colorsblending, making a rainbow as they bounce and sing. And my heart hurts becauseI know how much Ove wanted to attend. But the brownie is in hiding. I wasforced to leave her in a cold cave with her mother. Gillian took food andblankets, but it’s only a matter of time before the guards think to search forthem. Torin’s principles of purity have finally reached the outer provinces,and there is nowhere left to run.

Then stop running. You’re of age. The time has come tofight. Gather an army. Be the princess you were born to be.

That angry voice in my head is becoming louder and harder toignore. I’m not a child any longer. My brothers, it seems, are not coming back.I’m the only Finn left for a rebellion to build around. If Gillian and I leavethis province, how long will it be until something else sends us running again?How long before we run out of places to hide? And how many of my friends willdie along the way, without my defense because staying alive is all thatmatters? Do I want to spend my life like this, hiding and pretending to besomething I’m not?

And that brings up the real question. Who the hell am I? Iwasn’t brought up to be a warrior princess. I was brought up to be a fluffywife. Time and hardship molded me into something else. Something more.

Who is Bronwyn Finn becoming?

“Hello, my dear. Your dress is lovely, though I wish you hadworn your sapphire-blue one.” Micha’s rheumy eyes take in my form, and I canpractically see the old man salivate. He’s dressed in his country best—a velvetovercoat that is overly adorned with golden buttons and jewel-encrusted medalsproclaiming some military service he never actually performed. Micha likes tosteal such things from condemned prisoners and pass them off as his own, or sorumor has it.

One thing I’m not about to become is the mayor’s wife. I’llfight like hell to avoid that, no question.

“I apologize, Mayor,” I say with a yawn, already planning mygetaway. “I suppose I wasn’t thinking about such things as fashion. The harvestbegins tomorrow. There was much to do this day to prepare. All the work hastired me.”

His lips curl in a condescending smile. “Well, we shall haveto make ours a particularly short engagement so you shall never have to work aplow again. Though I would say there will still be a bit of plowing involved inyour life. Do not worry, dear. I’ll be the driving force in that particularharvest.”

It’s all I can do to not show my disdain. I let my eyes gowide and innocent. I need to be as virginal as possible so when I slap himsilly, I have the perfect excuse of utter ignorance. “I did not know youplanted your own food, Mayor. Well, that explains why you selected me as yourmate. I can certainly help with your farming techniques.”

The guards behind him laugh, elbowing each other. The mayorjoins them. “My bride will need an education, will she not?”

“You’re the man to give it to her, Mayor,” one of the guardssays. They stand behind him, two large men with swords at their sides. I noticethe long, distrustful stares of the farmers around me.

I feel myself flush. I want to show them exactly what myeducation over the last years taught me. Swords and knives and hand-to-handcombat were taught by a pair of open-minded goblins. They taught me to fightdirty, to use my hands, my legs, my teeth. Anything to win the battle. Theytaught me that the only true honor in battle is to stay alive.

There’s a particular move I would love to practice on themayor. It involves my knees and his balls. Yes, I’m good at that move.

I push thoughts of crushing the mayor’s withered old ballsdown and grant him a curtsey and what I hope is a simpering smile. “I am sureto be grateful for any instruction you can give me, Sir Mayor, but now I mustgo and aid my sister. I have left her all alone to sell our bread.”

The mayor frowns. “I don’t know that I like my future wifein a stall selling her wares. I think, perhaps, your sister can handle this dayalone, Isolde. Come and we will walk the grounds. I want everyone to see what alovely fiancée I have found for myself.”

He holds out his arm in what I assume is supposed to be acourtly gesture, and there’s nothing to do but take it. Arguing with him willsimply make me look like a fool and get both me and Gillian in trouble. I walksedately beside the mayor as he waves to the people of the town. He stops andtalks to the more prominent members and ignores the peasants.

“We shall have to work on your priorities, dear,” Micha saysafter leaving the town’s richest merchant. “You seem to smile at the worthlessand frown at the wealthy.”

Because the wealthy of this town are complete asses. I takea deep breath and measure my response. “I am sorry. Perhaps it is because Iknow the working folk better.”

Though my father spent time with his subjects, both nobleand peasant, he never had loads of time to lavish on me. One of my fondestmemories is walking with my father through the village on Saturday mornings. Hestrolled through, waving at people, buying food from the merchants andtrinkets. It was the only real time he ever spent with me and Cian, andsometimes Dante, when he visited. Father wasn’t perfect, but he understood thevalue of all of his subjects.

The mayor shakes his head. “I know. The Fae you consort withshall have to change. How you behave is going to reflect on me. I can’t haveyou breaking bread with peasants. After all, the queen herself will be comingto our wedding.”

The thought of being in the same room with Maris brings asmile to my face. Yes, I have a few things to say to my brothers’ formerfiancée, and I’ll say them with the point of my blade. Being able to kill thetraitorous bitch would almost be worth going through with the sham of awedding.

“Ah, that has made you happy!” The mayor looks delighted.“Yes, you will love the queen. Such a perfect female.”

“I would dearly love to stand in her presence,” I allow.Preferably close enough to slip a knife between her ribs, though it might notwork since everyone knows the pretender queen doesn’t have a heart. It’s saidamong the peasants she sold it to a hag in exchange for her crown.