Page 15 of Of Curses and Beauty

He sighed again, sprawling out on the tiny sofa. His head landed where Alaine had been only minutes before, the sweet scent of lavender and honey lingering in her absence. He’d been doomed before, but now he was doubly doomed. That witch knew exactly what she was doing by sending Alaine to him.

He’d grown complacent, resigned to his situation, and had no hope that he would ever be free. Alaine might be trapped here, but her curse was his to bear. He knew he would feel the sting of her loss more acutely than the endless loneliness.

Though he disagreed with her choice to stay, he admired her for standing up to him. Not many had the courage to do that in his former life. He’d spoken true when he called her intelligent, funny, and kind, but that was just scraping the surface of who he already knew her to be. He’d known her for no time at all, but she’d proven herself to be quietly confident, optimistic, headstrong, empathetic, and thoughtful. The more he knew of her, the more he liked her—and that was territory his heart wasn’t prepared to enter.

Still, if he’d learned anything from his enchantment, it was never to take anything for granted.

He sat up slowly and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the weight of his decision. He could do this. Alaine could stay for as long as she liked. He would do nothing to assist her freedom if she didn’t desire it. Her company would be a welcome reprieve and he would enjoy every second spent with her. When she finally tired of him or found a way to be free from the curse… Daric shuddered. He would deal with that when the time came. He’d dug himself out of despair before. He’d just have to take this day by day.

With one slow exhale, his shoulders sagged. He could do this. Hewoulddo this. For Alaine.

“One day at a time, Daric.”

Chapter 13

Alaine

Alainewokethenextday with swollen, aching eyes, blinking against the brightness of her sunlit room. After she’d stormed away, her anger had turned to frustration until the unexpected release of tears had left her hollow. Daric had opened an old wound, the familiar sting doing nothing to help her sour mood.

All she wanted was a place to belong; to be worthy of existing in a space without expectation.

She extracted herself from under a yellow blanket dotted with pink embroidered roses that mocked her dark disposition. Balling it in her fists, she threw it on the floor, though she knew the cottage would replace it on her bed as soon as she left.

The wood floor felt cool beneath her feet as she slipped from the bed. She regretted having left her shoes behind when she entered the forest and frowned down at the same blue dress she’d been wearing for two days. A bath would be nice, but she’d settle for a clean dress and new shoes.

A tall, ornately carved armoire beckoned her from across the room. Alaine made it all of two steps toward it when a pair of fur-lined slippers landed on the floor before her. A squeak erupted from her mouth before she could stifle it and she rolled her eyes at her knee-jerk reaction. She might never become accustomed to the magic of the cottage.

The slippers were soft and warm. A low groan escaped her lips as she slipped them on her feet. Walking the rest of the distance felt like dancing on clouds compared to the last couple days. She opened the armoire and frowned at the selection of pastel and jewel tone dresses. There was everything from linen and lace, to velvet and satin, but none of it appealed to her somber mood. She slammed the doors closed, tipping her head forward to rest against the cool wood.

With her gaze cast downward, her vision snagged on her slippered feet. She wanted to kick herself for forgetting—yet again—that she was in an enchanted cottage. An enchanted cottage with no obligatory social etiquette.

“Cottage, would you fetch me something different to wear? How about something darker? Maybe a little out of the ordinary? And no stays, if you please,” she added as an afterthought. She’d had enough of propriety. If Daric could walk around half naked, he could allow her this one comfort.

The tingling sensation that she’d come to associate with magic swept over her face. She fought against the urge to sneeze as she stepped away from the armoire. With cautious excitement, she eased the doors open, revealing a brand new wardrobe of dark garments.

She fanned through a dozen dresses from modest to scandalous, and even several pairs of trousers and shirts, her fingers hesitating over them before deciding on a simple blousy frock and a quilted bodice, both in ebony.

Her body slipped easily into the loose dress and she made quick work of the front lacing on the bodice. The sleeves were intended to be cinched at the wrist as well, but she left them loose, fisting the material and hiding her thumbs within. The scalloped hem hid her shoes well enough that she decided to keep the slippers on. She’d already spent most of her time here barefoot anyway. She knew Daric wouldn’t judge her.

There was only a small, polished silver on the table in which to view herself, but she didn’t much care how she looked. With a twirl, she marveled at the freedom the garment afforded. Feeling emboldened by her color choice and the lack of restraint, she hoisted up the skirt and danced around the small room, humming as she pranced and turned without a care for the problems that awaited outside her door. She leapt onto the bed and bounced with abandon like she had as a child, embracing the feeling she thought lost forever.

When her legs ached and her chest burned, she collapsed in a fit of giggles, burying her face in a pillow to suppress the sound.

She panted as her laughter subsided. Pulling her face from the pillow to gulp down air, she choked as she saw her surroundings. Coughing and sputtering, she sat up and took in the room anew.

Gone were the pale pinks and sunny yellows, the white washed wood and bouquets of wildflowers. Instead the room was bathed in warm, earthy hues that echoed those of the forest beyond the window. Dark wood furniture glowed in the golden light of the sun. Every spare inch of space was dripping with dark pink and burgundy roses. A wrought iron chandelier hung over a richly woven rug of mossy green. Her fingers dug into the plush, velvet bed covers, the deep teal perfectly matching the color she imagined the ocean to be.

She smiled at the transformation, wishing she’d had the presence of mind to bring a book to bed with her the night before.

“Thank you for redecorating,” she addressed the cottage. “Do you think you could bring me a book?”

Alaine waited, but when none appeared she figured it was either ignoring her request or unable to grant it. Whatever the reason, she still couldn’t bring herself to leave the room.

She dreaded facing Daric after their heated conversation and opted instead to break her fast in her room. The cottage obliged this request, providing her a small stack of crêpes and simple tea service on the desk by the window. Taking a seat, she frowned at the sight before her. She needn’t have worried about running into Daric in the cottage because she had a clear view of him toiling away in the garden from her window.

He sat at the base of a tree, leaning against the trunk, his head bowed in concentration over whatever he held in his hands.

Fixing a cup of tea, she took the opportunity to watch him unnoticed, appreciating his muscled form yet again. She couldn’t deny his attractiveness, but she couldn’t admire him outright without becoming self-conscious of her own appearance. She knew she was being just as bad as all the villagers in her hometown, believing herself unworthy of his attention because she no longer possessed comparable beauty. His desire to help free her had felt too similar to the rejection she’d been expecting since she’d first glimpsed her new face in the mirror. He had called her homely, after all. Perhaps remaining cursed was setting her up for heartbreak, but she couldn’t bear the thought of returning to her provincial life yet. Yes, she needed to discover who she really was so she could define her worth on her own terms and not through the eyes of others. But maybe she could make a friend along the way, provided said friend could remove the stick from his derrière and accept her choice to stay.

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