Page 50 of Of Curses and Beauty

She turned and nearly balked at the anger she felt pouring off Baxter like the heat of a flame. Fury ignited within her in response and she became vaguely aware of Daric’s hands slipping from her back as she stalked forward, the prey becoming the hunter.

The cocky fool did not see it coming when she hauled her arm back and let it swing. Her mother shrieked her name at the same time Daric released a surprised chortle, but no one was more surprised by her punch than Alaine herself.

Her knuckles throbbed as she held them to her chest, but she smiled as color bloomed along Baxter’s left cheekbone.

Momentarily shocked into silence, Baxter brushed his fingertips over the injury, wincing even as he worked his jaw open and closed. He remembered himself at the same time Alaine realized what she had done.

She cursed herself for retreating as he advanced one step, then two. Her one punch was nothing compared to his own capabilities for retaliation. Shrinking back, she startled as Daric stepped between her and her approaching foe.

“You’ll not lay a hand on her ever again.” Her toes curled at the promise of violence in Daric’s voice. Never in all their time together had he shown her anything but courtesy. Though she’d come to fear Baxter’s displays of power, she found Daric’s protectiveness oddly alluring. The difference being that it was fueled by his love for her and would never be directed at her.

Baxter straightened to his full height in acknowledgment of the threat against him. “We are to be married.”

“I think if you ask Alaine, you’ll find that is no longer the case.”

Alaine knew the smirk Daric wore without seeing his face, the sour expression on Baxter’s face the exact opposite.

“What is the meaning of this, Alaine?”

Her mother’s shrill voice echoed through the hall and Alaine suppressed a groan at the interruption. Tossing a glance over her shoulder, she could see her father attempting to hold back her agitated mother, making placating gestures with his hands and murmuring as Alaine had to Baxter’s horse only an hour ago. The sight almost made Alaine laugh, but she bit her tongue to hold in the inappropriate reaction.

Her mother quickly brushed past her father, leaving him trailing in her wake as she stormed down the aisle toward them. Alaine turned to face her head-on, angling her body slightly in front of Daric. Not that she could provide any protection for him, or that he’d need it, but she wanted to be clear on whose side she stood.

“It is as Daric says, Mother. I will not be marrying Lord Baxter today, or any day for that matter.” Though the words came out clearly, her hands shook violently. She clasped them behind her to hide her nerves.

Her mother looked at Daric like he was waste in the gutter and Alaine felt her protective instincts rear up. She tensed, preparing to—she didn’t know what. She never got the chance to find out as Daric placed a comforting, yet commanding hand over hers, letting her know all was well.

She sighed. “Can you just listen for a moment? Close your mouth and open your mind. Daric’s taken care of everything.” She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in a question. “Right?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Baxter finally regained his composure enough to intercede.

“Not so fast,” he said, pulling her from Daric’s hold.

Quick as lighting, Daric broke Baxter’s hold, clutching Alaine to his chest as Baxter cradled his arm. “Touch her again and I will end you.”

Outrage colored Baxter’s face purple as he spluttered. “This marriage has been long in coming. Who are you to dissolve this betrothal? What say do you have on the matter?” He looked around, searching for allies in the small gathering and finding only the confused officiant, who shrugged but offered no further comment. “We don’t even know this man. Mr. Martan,” Baxter found her father observing it all away from the fray. “Surely, you do not intend to renege on our agreement. What of our deal?”

Alaine’s father appeared calm and collected, the complete opposite of her mother who still seethed a few paces away. “It would seem, Lord Baxter, that the terms of the deal may be a moot point now. If we are to believe His Majesty.”

Chapter 44

Daric

Silencereignedoncemoreas the word settled.

The prick had the nerve to look around as though expecting the monarch to spring out of the woodwork.

How Alaine’s father had put the pieces together, Daric didn’t know. Perhaps Alainehadshared details with her family. But then, why did her mother look at him with such open disgust? A king with no kingdom was hardly noteworthy, but neither did he deserve such derision for breaking up an unwanted marriage.

“Sir, I have gone to great lengths to be here today. I swear on my honor, I have uncovered the truth about your so-called debts and I can assure you, those loans were fabricated to deceive you and your family. The Magistrate is gathering evidence against Lord Baxter as we speak.” Daric spoke to Mr. Martan directly, sincerity transforming his nervous ramblings into something vaguely coherent. “With all due respect, this man is not fit to wed your daughter. I love Alaine and I would see her make her own choice with regard to who she marries. She deserves as much.”

Daric beamed at Alaine and she radiated gratitude in return. He would swear the clouds parted at that moment, revealing a hazy winter sun angled just so to shine upon them both.

“I couldn’t agree more, ah—” Alaine’s father trailed off for Daric to provide his name.

For the first time in many years, he called up the memory of his full name. “I am Prince Daric Astin Verril Halverson, though I no longer claim the title. I believe you may have heard of me. It would seem I am referred to as the—”

“The Lost Prince,” said Baxter, the words slipping out of their own accord as his mouth hung agape. Recovering quickly, he snapped his mouth shut. “And I’m the heir apparent,” he said, rolling his eyes. Though sarcasm coated his tongue, it could not mask the fear beneath. “You have proof of this claim?”

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