Enchant: Beauty and the Beast Retold (Romance a Medieval Fairytale #1)(11)

Horror, but not fear, he reflected. At least that was something. And she had agreed to tour the island with him, which he had to admit had surprised him. He'd never taken anyone on a tour of Beacon Isle before. What would a lady wish to see?

He would ask…who? No one knew her. He didn't even know her name, for she'd meekly accepted the teasing moniker he'd thrown at her without a murmur. Yet a moment earlier, she'd been as fierce as a she-bear, calling him a pirate. Synonymous with scum…a lady of some education, then, who spoke her mind even as she read his own. For she'd known about his distaste for pirates, he was certain of it.

And for all his thirst for answers, she hadn't told him anything. He hadn't counted on her being so clever. For a woman so beautiful…it seemed almost too much that she had a mind to match.

He needed to spend more time with her. His idea to take her on a tour of the island had been a good one, he was certain, but he wanted more time before that, too. Time to set her at her ease, to persuade her that however hideous he looked, he was still a man of honour, and she would be safe beneath his roof. Safe enough to spill some of her secrets into his ear.

"I'll invite her to dinner!" he exclaimed.

"Very good, master," Inga said behind him.

He whirled. "How long have you been following me?"

"I have not left, master. After I undressed her, I waited outside in case I was needed. I hope you will change her mind about breaking the curse."

So Inga had heard everything, it seemed. Vardan wasn’t surprised. "Any advice you'd care to offer me on that count? For I have yet to find a woman who can stare at someone as beastly as I am and not shudder in disgust."

"Love is not all about how one looks, master," Inga said reproachfully.

"Beasts don't love. Only men do that."

Inga grasped his arm. "And women. Don't forget that, master. Of all her children and grandchildren, the good Queen Margareta loved you best of all. She would want happiness for you. If you can win this lady's heart and break the curse, then – "

"Then men will fly, we will enjoy fresh strawberries every day, and King Thorn will declare that Beacon Isle is its own kingdom, to be ruled by what the ancients called a democracy, or a republic, or some other mythical name. Do not let your hopes rise too far, or their wings will melt and your spirits will fall so low you will have no hope left." Vardan closed his eyes. "I am sorry. This bitterness shall pass. I will set my hopes low: that she will one day look at me without disgust, and that she will share a meal with me."

"Invite her to supper, then, master, for if it is dark in the great hall, you can better hide in the shadows."

Vardan nodded sharply. "I shall. Who knows? Perhaps one day I will not need to hide."

Inga sounded sad. "I hope that day comes."





Fifteen

Zuleika waited until she was certain he was gone before she climbed out of bed and dressed. It wasn't until she realised she didn't know who had removed her clothes, she wondered whether he had done it. The laces she was trying to tie dropped from her numb fingers. No – surely not. The green woollen gown had been neatly folded in the chest, much like it was when she found it. A prince would not know how to fold gowns. Like his brother, he probably only knew how to tear them off helpless women.

No, her clothes had been cared for by one of the mysterious maids she had yet to meet. As if to prove a point, someone knocked tentatively at the door.

"My lady?" It was a woman's voice this time. "The master has supper served in the great hall. If you are feeling well enough, you are invited to join him." A pause. "But if you are still unwell, I shall bring a tray."

Zuleika was not so lazy as to wish to make extra work for the maids. "I will join him."

"Very good, my lady. Will you need my help to dress?"

Zuleika considered the laces she'd given up on. "No, I think I can manage." After all, she'd travelled to many places in the world without a maid, and managed to dress herself. But supper alone with the prince in the great hall… Now, that called for something a little more fancy than the green wool travelling dress she had chosen earlier. Instead, she chose a red velvet one, the colour of wine, much finer than the red dress she'd arrived in.

She took her time with the shell combs, knowing that the more beautiful she looked, the more information she could extract from the prince. For all his talk of a curse, no magic had touched the cargo. And where were the crew? If he had captured them and sold them as slaves…

Zuleika shook her head. If the man was a slaver, then he deserved his fate.

Instead of her boots, Zuleika chose a pair of soft slippers she found in the chest. They fitted her so well, it was almost as if they had been made for her. She felt a peculiar urge to dance. Later, she told herself. Once her investigations were finished, her father's cargo had been returned to him, and the man responsible for sinking his ships had tasted justice.

She needed no spell to guide her to the great hall this time, for she knew her way. A good thing, too, for it appeared that her lengthy preparations had made her late for dinner. The prince sat at one end of the long table, while a place was set for her at the opposite end. Platters of more food than two people could eat covered the wooden surface between them. When Zuleika sat down, she found the lighting so dim that she could scarcely see her food, let alone the man at the other end of the table.