Page 18 of Of Curses and Beauty

“Something a bit more casual, I think. There’s also no reason to remind him I’m female if you know what I mean,” she whispered conspiratorially.

A puff of wind blew her damp locks back as the cottage seemed to sigh in annoyance, but the dress disappeared, a simple tunic and pants replacing it. That wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind, but she supposed it would do. He certainly wouldn’t think she was seducing him. Or maybe he would… Men were funny like that.

She put the breeches on first, fumbling with the gusset ties in the back, but refusing to ask for Daric’s aid again, particularly because she was topless. Once she’d gotten the pants to stay up, the tunic was easy to slip over her head. It was smaller than she expected but still shapeless. Her curves were less pronounced, her cleavage completely hidden.

Satisfied, she grabbed a blanket off the bed, throwing it over her shoulders to hide the majority of her ensemble. Daric’s brief touch had already chased away most of her chill, but her stomach churned at the thought of stepping out in men’s clothing.

Daric was seated before the hearth, steaming cup in hand as she stepped out her door. The now familiar crackle of burning wood was drowned out by the howling wind as the rain continued to fall, battering the windows. If the cottage wasn’t enchanted, she would be concerned for its structural integrity. As it was, there appeared to be no drafts or leaks to speak of—only the cozy, warm glow of the fire.

If Daric noticed her outfit, he didn’t mention it as she sat down beside him, picking up her own cup of tea from the table. It was a marvel that the cottage always prepared it exactly to her liking. She inhaled the sweet, floral scent and warmth seeped into her fingers.

“I never used to light the fire before you came.”

She jumped at Daric’s sudden confession, taking a moment to turn over his words in her head before she could process them. “But you always chop firewood…” she said, her voice trailing off in question.

He nodded slowly, staring at the fire. “It was something to do, but the firewood—” He gestured to the pile before the hearth. “It replenishes itself without my help. I just couldn’t stand it, the warmth and the light. In my home, we always ate dinner as a family before a giant hearth.” Though his mouth twitched upward, his eyes glinted with repressed memories. “The fire reminds me of all I’ve lost. I didn’t feel worthy of basking in its glow. Rather, I embraced the cold and the dark; they were my punishments for the choices I made to get me here.”

“Are you certain it was your choices that got you here?” She asked, suddenly curious.

“It was an impossible choice, but it was mine to make.”

The bleakness in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. Thunder rumbled as she curled farther into the blanket, seeking shelter from the chilling conversation.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so melancholy. I wanted you to know that you’ve brought light to my life in more ways than one. I told you that I want you to stay and I meant it. Losing you would be like losing the sun, for though I cannot look directly at its beauty, I can see it in the way it makes the flowers bloom. I fear I am blooming for you, Alaine, and I will selfishly yearn for your light for the rest of my life.”

Words stuck in her throat. She had no response to such a proclamation. He spoke as if her departure was inevitable, despite their shared desire for her to remain.

She set her teacup on the table and slid her hand over his, feeling him tense beneath her touch. “I’m here now,” she whispered, the words feeling inadequate next to his.

“I’m glad,” he said, taking her hand in his.

His thumb stroking her palm made her shiver for an entirely different reason.

Chapter 16

Daric

Daricwoketothegentle weight of Alaine pressed against him, her head nestled against his arm like a pillow. They hadn’t moved from the sofa. Though he’d sensed her beginning to nod off, he’d been unwilling to surrender her hand to rouse her. It wasn’t long before he too had given in to the sweet embrace of sleep. For the first time that he could remember, sleep had come easy and been undisturbed by terrors and restlessness.

He blamed Alaine.

Surely, her presence acted as a calming balm to his soul even in slumber. While he wanted to attribute his improved mood wholly to her, he couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t simply the lack of loneliness. But Daric had always been lonely, even before being cursed, even constantly surrounded by courtiers and servants. That was his problem all along. He had known early on in his life he was incomplete. A vital piece of himself was missing, the sharp edges of which grated on him constantly.

The sofa creaked as he let his head fall back. He held his breath as Alaine stirred, only exhaling once her breathing resumed the deep, even rhythm of sleep.

His fingers tingled and he tried to wiggle them without shifting too much. Still unwilling to extricate himself, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, squinting at the sunlight streaming down from a window he would swear had not existed the previous day.

One glance around confirmed all the windows were open, a cool breeze wafting in from the east. The storm had passed, leaving behind the clean, earthy scent of petrichor; the smell of new beginnings and fresh starts.

He hated how much Alaine felt like the start of something new. Hated that he’d already become attached to her presence, her voice, her touch, her laugh. If he dug himself any deeper, he could end up buried alive.

As much as he enjoyed her company, he couldn’t accept her staying with him indefinitely. And he would not let himself fall for her, for surely falling in love would only lead to a broken heart. Although he was beginning to think that breaking may be preferable to the surviving he’d done before she arrived, the guilt of his acquiescence ate at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling they’d both made a terrible mistake, but he wouldn’t force her hand. The choice was hers to make.

Knowing he would rather lie with her all day, Daric forced himself to get up, gently positioning Alaine flat on the sofa so she wouldn’t wake. He froze with his hand hovering over her, barely resisting the urge to sweep her hair out of her face. Only half a handbreadth lay between them, and try as he might, he couldn’t shake the desire to close the distance and touch her.

He yanked his hand away, confused at the emotions rolling through him. Yes, he cared for Alaine. How could he not when she’d proven time and again to be kind-hearted and understanding? He feared he’d spent too much time away from others to recognize if it was blossoming into something more, or just a desperate desire to form an attachment. Any attachment.

He couldn’t trust that any of this was genuine and not due to the witches meddling after all, but one glimpse at Alaine had all his doubts turning to smoke.

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