Page 10 of Of Curses and Beauty

Leaning forward, Daric rested his elbows on his thighs and threaded his fingers together. “We have been cursed. We will remain at this cottage, unchanged, as the world moves on around us. We will be trapped until we meet the terms that will break the spell.”

“And?” she prompted, scooting to the edge of her seat. “What terms would those be?”

“If only it were that easy,” he said with a dark chuckle. “I cannot speak of my own, but I suspect yours has something to do with determining your self-worth without the mask of your beauty.”

She opened her mouth, then shut it and promptly opened it again, gaping like a fish. This man was breaking down every preconceived notion she had of him. She looked at him again with fresh eyes. He was rugged in every sense of the word, with long, barely-tamed hair, impressive musculature, and calloused hands. But she could see the hints of nobility in his posture, the way he lifted his chin and pressed his shoulders back. She wondered what secrets his past held, but refrained from probing for the time being. It was intrusive enough having to stay in his home—or prison, she supposed. It wouldn’t do for her to pry into his personal life as well.

“Let me see if I’m understanding all this correctly. You’ve been cursed for over three hundred years and you’ve yet to find a way free of it?” He nodded solemnly. “So, all I need to do is find a way to free myself from this curse before my family grows old and dies.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Piece of cake.” She jumped as a large piece of chocolate cake appeared on the low table between them.

Daric chuckled, the sound rich and intoxicating.

“It would seem the cottage is on your side,” he said, pointing to the cake. “Are you hungry?”

She knew she should eat, but her stomach churned from the chaos of the day and she didn’t think she could handle adding anything more to it.

“No, thank you. I think I need to lie down again.”

She set her teacup aside and rose to retire. Daric stood as well, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at him. The cottage wasn’t large by any means, and his presence overwhelmed the cozy space. Alaine thought she should feel intimidated, but instead felt oddly safe with this beast of a man.

“It is unfortunate circumstances that have brought us together,” she said, “but I think I am glad to have met you, Daric. I can think of no man besides my own father with whom I would rather be forced to cohabitate.”

Daric laughed; a real laugh this time, not one of his humorless chuckles. “I’m honored, Beauty.”

She rolled her eyes and headed for the room he’d indicated as hers. “Good night, Beast.”

Chapter 8

Daric

SleepeludedDaricashis thoughts continued to revolve around his strange new guest. Alaine was like no one he’d met before—at least, no one he could remember. His memories grew hazy the more time passed.

She had made him laugh and that was a feat in itself. More to the point, she seemed to genuinely like him with no notion of who he was or the title he held.

Used to hold, he reminded himself.

He had no idea if Alaine would be the one to break his curse, but he thought he wouldn’t mind spending eternity with her if it came down to it. At least, it appealed more to him than eternal solitude.

Whatever the witch was thinking by bringing her here, it didn’t bode well for either of them. For all he knew, Alaine could be a puppet sent to torment him, to give him hope where he’d had none, and then crush it like a bug underfoot.

It was possible but seemed unlikely. Unless Alaine was a better actor than he could ever guess, he suspected she was as much a pawn in this game as he. That didn’t mean she was his ally, though.

When the first rays of the sun began to peek through his bedroom window, he gave up chasing sleep and rolled out of bed. He pulled on the closest pair of breeches before stepping out his door, surprised to find Alaine already seated at the table, a hearty buffet before her.

She glanced at him as he walked over and immediately averted her eyes, a hint of pink rising to her cheeks. That seemed odd. She hadn’t appeared shy the night prior, but Daric figured late-night conversations with a stranger must seem far more intimate when remembered in the cold light of dawn.

“Good morning,” he said, hoping to break the ice that appeared to have reformed overnight.

She cleared her throat before returning the sentiment, eyes downcast.

“Is there something wrong?”Had he done something? Did he have something on his face?He swiped a palm over his face for good measure. His hair was sure to be a mess, but that was a common occurrence hardly worthy of such avoidance.

“Oh! No. Forgive me,” Alaine stammered. “I’m not accustomed to seeing men in such a state of undress.”

He glanced down to see that he was in fact only half dressed, a state which had mattered little in the last few hundred years.

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