Page 26 of Of Curses and Beauty

Alaine had to wonder if it stemmed from a place of curiosity, or if the witch was wrong and he did care for her.

She saw no harm in telling him about Baxter. Though it shamed her to think of what he and others had done to her, she hoped it would help to have someone else share this burden. She fixed her gaze on the table, unwilling to see Daric’s reaction as she told her tale. If he looked at her with any amount of pity, she might just curl up on the floor and die of embarrassment.

“There is a man in my town, Lord Baxter. He desired me in a way that became borderline obsessive. He sought my hand in marriage, but I refused on numerous occasions. His advances grew more… forceful with each refusal.”

Daric remained silent. She could feel the anger rippling off him like steam, but he didn’t interrupt her.

“The day that I arrived here, I’d had another run-in with Baxter. He was rougher than usual. I think his patience was finally wearing thin.” She blew out a breath, blinking back tears. “My first instinct is to brush it off as nothing, to make excuses for him. That’s just the way things are. Men can’t be expected to control their temper. It wasmyfault for leading him on and then refusing him. I’m so tired of it. I’m tired of fighting, tired of defending myself, tired of a world that sees me as less than worthy because I’m a woman.”

She laughed bitterly. “Before I ended up here, I’d finally decided that I was going to accept his proposal. My family—” she swallowed against the knot that formed at the memory, “Baxter agreed to clear a rather large outstanding debt in exchange for my hand. It is their last resort.” Her cheeks heated in the wake of her admission and she drew her finger along the table grain to avoid meeting Daric’s probing gaze.

Strong fingers enveloped hers in a reassuring grip. His thumb stroked the back of her hand as a strangled sob escaped her.

“If I ever see that man, I will personally repay all of his wrongdoings tenfold. I swear it on my honor.”

She finally looked up at him, seeing no judgment or pity, only grim resolve to uphold his promise. The overwhelming urge to kiss him shocked her so thoroughly, she forgot her misery. She wondered if he’d be gentle, if the contrast of his soft lips and rough stubble would drive her wild, but she sobered at the recollection of the witch’s words. He hadn’t kissed her before she was beautiful and, though he maintained a respectful distance aside from his hand stroking hers, she couldn’t be sure that any interest from him now wasn’t purely due to her appearance.

Sliding her fingers from his, she tucked them in her lap as he reclaimed the seat across from her.

“What a pair we are, eh?”

She appreciated his attempt at levity, answering his rhetorical question with a half-smirk of her own. It didn’t reach her eyes, but neither did it reach his.

Things had certainly changed between them. All the hope she had felt rising these past couple days had burned to ash in the wake of the witch’s machinations.

“Is there nothing we can do?” She didn’t need to elaborate. He knew she was talking about the witch and her endless schemes.

“You don’t need to worry. I—” He cut off with another strangled sound and Alaine knew there was more he wished to tell her, but couldn’t.

However he’d been about to finish that sentence, he was wrong. She had plenty to worry about, not the least of which was her traitor heart falling for the man before her, a prince whose love she could not trust.

She should have accepted the witch’s offer to change it back, but she didn’t trust her either. There had been no cause for the witch to restore her beauty to begin with and if she wanted to take it back, that was a good enough reason for Alaine to keep it.

Frustrations mounting, she pushed back her chair and retreated to the one place she knew she’d find peace and solitude: the library.

Chapter 23

Alaine

Alainetossedandturnedin her plush ocean of blankets. She’d avoided Daric for the rest of the day, taking her supper in the library and retiring to her room as exhaustion weighed down her eyelids. She’d wanted the time to dissect his words, but she was no closer to figuring out the truth of his heart—or her own, for that matter.

Lying awake in her darkened room, even the soft sounds of the forest could not comfort her. Her heart was heavy. In discovering she was cursed, she thought all her problems had been solved. She thought she’d escaped her marriage to Baxter guilt-free, and found a place where she could be herself. Instead of relief, however, a nagging sense of shame ate away at her. She’d abandoned her family without a thought, too quickly accepting the perfect illusion of her cursed fate and refusing Daric’s offer to help free her.

Now, she felt stuck.

Though Daric had guessed at ways to free her, she didn’t know how to accomplish what was needed of her. If she was honest, a small part of her still wished to remain. Her mind and her heart pulled her in different directions and there was no telling which side would win—or if she’d be torn apart before a victor could be declared.

Giving up on sleep, Alaine swung her legs over the side of the bed, grateful for the soft rug beneath her feet as she plodded across the room. She paused at her door, listening for any signs that Daric was awake on the other side. When only silence greeted her, she cautiously turned the knob. Through luck or magic, the door made no sound as it swung inward.

Though only embers remained in the fireplace, a soft, golden glow lit her way through the dark. She stoked the fire until its warmth staved off the worst of her chill. She thought to ask the cottage for a cup of chamomile tea and lose herself in another book until sleep claimed her, but she found herself stopping outside Daric’s door rather than the one that led to the library.

She didn’t know what had brought her here. He likely slept on the other side. Even if he was awake, she had nothing more to say to him.

Still her body refused to move on. Her hand raised of its own volition, poised to knock before the carved wood. She wondered if Daric had been the one to carve the images into its face, or if it was merely another trick of the cottage. In all her days at the cottage, she hadn’t paid any mind to what was carved on her own door, but she relaxed her fist to trace the details in Daric’s. A light sweep of her fingers revealed an intricate landscape with towering mountains and sweeping forests. When they brushed over the parapets of a grand castle situated between the two, the door swung inward and she nearly toppled over into the darkened room beyond.

Alaine stumbled back, fear igniting in her chest, though she’d done nothing wrong by admiring the door. She clutched her chest, waiting for an imposing silhouette to fill the doorframe, for the threats and shouts she knew better than to expect from Daric. None came.

Before she could think better of it, she rushed forward to close the door, pausing on the threshold as a strange sound reached her ears.

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