Page 53 of Of Curses and Beauty

Eudora quickly backed away and Daric could see the rose now clutched in Baxter’s hand where the knife had been. He hissed, dropping the rose and releasing Alaine to inspect his hand. The rose fell to the floor, blood glinting off its needle-sharp thorns as Alaine raised her hands to reveal the knife.

Chapter 47

Alaine

Alaineblinkedandshewas free. Baxter’s hands fell away and she stumbled as she suddenly regained control of her limbs. She glanced down to her hands, the very ones that had taken the rose offered by Eudora, but rather than a flower, her hands now held a large dagger, the tip coated in blood where it had sliced her cheek.

Her initial reaction was to drop the offending blade, but she tightened her grip, whirling on Baxter as he blinked at his open palm. She held the dagger up with both hands, grateful they didn’t shake when he looked up and realized what had become of his only weapon.

He raised his hands in supplication, but she gestured for the guards to take hold of him. They made quick work of securing his hands behind his back.

“Alaine—” he started, but she cut him off, sick of everything about him.

“No. You don’t get to speak to me. If you want to live, you’re going to listen, because I’m willing to bet that everyone here would look the other way if I sought retribution for everything you’ve done to me.” Baxter cast a pleading glance around, but Alaine heard no objections, unwilling to move her eyes away to confirm.

“I am not, nor will I ever be, yours. I am not a prize to be won, and your manhood—” she looked down pointedly, “does not entitle you to take whatever you please. Your obsession with beauty will be your undoing. Your inane quest for possession of it will yield you no fruit. The joy you feel will be as temporary as my beauty, your satisfaction as fleeting as spring. I have lived without my beauty, Henrik, and it is not so terrible a thing. But a life without love?” She shook her head and felt the gentle caress of Daric’s gaze as it washed over her like a warm breeze. “That is the true tragedy. You will pay for your crimes against me and my family. Perhaps in doing so, you will find yourself humbled enough to treasure life’s true values. Frankly, I don’t care what happens to you. I’m going to walk out that door with the man that I love and never think of you again.”

Alaine nodded to the taller guard, who began to haul Baxter away. He called after her, pleading for forgiveness and repeatedly proclaiming his namesake. His shouts echoed in the vaulted room until the three men disappeared through the arched doorway.

The knife slipped from her hands and clattered as it landed on the stone floor.

When strong arms again engulfed her, she didn’t feel any spike in anxiety. She breathed in the comforting scent of pine and turned to press her face to Daric’s chest, the emotions of the day overtaking her instantly. He rubbed circles on her back and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. The tone of his voice did more to calm her than the words themselves, of which she heard very little over her own sobs.

It occurred to her that she had never cried so much in her entire life.

When she came back to herself enough to feel the stares upon her, Alaine turned to face their awaiting audience.

Eudora waited patiently beside them, hands clasped in front of her mouth as her eyes welled with happy tears. A mirror smile appeared on Alaine’s face as she embraced the young witch, all past misdeeds forgotten in the afterglow of victory.

“Thank you,” Alaine whispered into Eudora’s fiery curls.

They pulled apart, Eudora taking firm hold of Alaine’s shoulders, every trace of sadness erased from her features. “It was the least I could do, after everything.”

Alaine flinched as Eudora’s fingers brushed against her injuries, an itching sensation following in their wake as her skin knit together.

“I left you a battle scar,” said Eudora, pointing to her own unmarked cheek.

Alaine gave her a knowing glance, a grateful smile tugging at her lips.

A throat cleared to her right and Alaine turned to see her parents standing side by side. Her mother looked like a shell of the woman who had burst into her room that morning, pale and drawn like the rug had been pulled out from under her. Alaine got the sense that her mother was experiencing the disappointing failure of a long-held desire, but she couldn’t dredge up an ounce of pity for the woman that birthed her. She was through pretending there was anything but blood between them.

On the other hand, her father beamed with pride and she felt her heart swell at his reaction, knowing she stood before him with no mask, only her true self bared for all to see.

It felt good to be free from not only Baxter but also society’s constraints, from the expectations that she’d had to conform to from a young age.

She reached behind her, taking hold of Daric’s hand and pulling him next to her. “Father, this is Daric.” As she looked up at the man who held her heart, she sensed a culmination like a key sliding into its lock, like all her pieces had finally aligned and found their match in him. “And I love him.”

The truth of those words rang throughout the room answered only by Daric’s quiet, “And I her.”

Her chest ached from the sheer magnitude of her joy and she knew that the happiness they shared was only amplified by the pain they had both endured to get here.

“That is plain for all to see.” Her father stepped forward and clapped Daric heartily on the back.

“Well, then, are the two of you getting married today?”

In all the excitement that had unfolded, she’d forgotten about the poor officiant who’d gotten caught in the middle. The look on the officiant’s face betrayed none of the fear or nerves she’d expect from someone who had witnessed all he had. Rather, he seemed curious, if not a little bored now that the thrill had passed.

She looked to Daric, not surprised at all to find him already looking at her. He chuckled as she lifted her eyebrows in question.

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