Cursed Beauty (A Fairy Retelling #1) (4 page)

“Lace me up,” Thalia ordered, holding up the bodice of her gown. Adelaide began cinching the laces, pulling them tighter and tighter.

“I can’t wait for tonight,” Thalia said, ignoring the fact that Adelaide was not in a talkative mood. “It’s going to be so magnificent!”

Adelaide could barely keep her eyes from rolling, but decided to ask, “What’s so special about tonight?”
What new unfortunate lord or duke have you managed to wrap around your finger now?

“Didn’t Mother tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Adelaide pulled the last of the laces tight and tied them off. Thalia turned to face her. “The family’s been invited to the Royal Ball for Prince Leon’s birthday. I’m surprised mother didn’t mention anything.” Thalia’s smirk showed otherwise.

Adelaide felt her cheeks redden and her birthmark flare up like wildfire. How could her stepmother not tell her? Surely the invitation had been issued weeks ago. Adelaide searched for a reason Celeste would have kept the invitation to the Royal Ball a secret. Perhaps she didn’t want to bring it up in the aftermath of her father’s death, and simply had overlooked the fact that Adelaide hadn’t been told. Adelaide wanted to believe that, but in her heart, she knew that was not the case.

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Adelaide asked.

“I don’t know. Perhaps she didn’t think you’d want to go. Being marked as you are, it wouldn’t be easy to meet men, and really, what other reason is there to go.”

Adelaide put her hand up to her face and felt the familiar rough surface mingled with soft skin that had escaped the blotch. Just a few hours ago she had thought the same thing when Prince Julian had brought her the invitation, but since then, she’d been rethinking her initial reaction. She wondered if Merelyn was right, and perhaps the prince hadn’t truly intended to hurt her, but had sincerely wanted to invite her to an event she would never have dreamed of attending. From the moment she entertained that idea, a seed of fascination welled up in her, and blossomed to full-fledged desire.

Adelaide left Thalia preening in her room, and went to search out her stepmother. She found Celeste in her own room, putting finishing touches to her own lovely ensemble. With her long black hair, fair skin, and dark eyes, Celeste was a strikingly beautiful woman. Adelaide could tell that one day Thalia would look just like her. “Is there something you need, Adelaide?” her stepmother asked as a look of annoyance flashed across her face.

“Is it true that the family has been invited to the Royal Ball for Prince Leon’s birthday? Are you going?” Adelaide asked, surprised at her boldness.

Celeste turned to face her, a cold, half-smile splayed across her face.  “Yes, it’s true, and yes, I am going. As is Thalia, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Wasn’t the invitation sent to the family? The whole family?” Adelaide asked. “Doesn’t that include me?”

Celeste let out a sigh of impatience. “Of course that includes you, Adelaide. You are more a part of the family than anyone in this house.”

“Oh.” Adelaide breathed a sigh of relief. “I didn’t realize...I’ll just get dressed then, right away.”

“Of course, my dear, accepting that you are completely done with your chores.”

“My chores?”

“Certainly. I believe I asked you to tend to the washing and mending not long ago. Have you finished?”

“Finished? I barely was able to get started. I’ve been working all day long for you, besides learning to cook, mopping floors, and cleaning windows. How could I possibly be finished?”

“Well, then. I suppose that settles it. You’re welcome to come to the ball when you have completed all your work.”

Adelaide’s shoulders dropped. It would be impossible to finish all the work that Celeste had given her to do in only one day. In fact, it would take a week of hard labor to get through the list of chores her stepmother had given her. There was no way that Adelaide would be able to attend the ball that evening, or any of the subsequent balls coming up in the next few days, either.

For far too many times that day, Adelaide felt the sharp sting of tears threaten her eyes. She hastened back down to her own bedroom, small and cramped next to the kitchen. Laying on her bed, she knew the laundry wasn’t going to wash itself, but she would rather work late into the night than give her stepmother and stepsister the satisfaction of watching her work while they paraded themselves out the front door and off to the castle.

When Adelaide heard the clank of the front door closing, she finally released the deluge of tears that had been threatening to overcome her.  She cried for herself, her marked fate, for her parents that she missed so much. She even cried for the prince. She wanted to be able to talk to him in person, and perhaps even apologize to him, if she could muster up enough courage to do so. She had held onto her anger against him for so long. Deep in her heart she knew he had meant no wrong. He couldn’t even have fully grasped why she was so angry at him. He didn’t know the full story of what had happened the night when his mother, the queen, had died.

Adelaide took the prince’s invitation off her bureau and clutched it to her heart, weeping. When she was finally all cried out, she slept.

* * * * *

She was seven again. Or rather, she was watching her seven-year-old self. In the back of her mind, Adelaide knew it was just a dream, and it would be an unpleasant one at that, but at the same time she didn’t want to wake up and cause it to end.

Her mother had been sick for weeks with the same illness that had stricken the entire kingdom. The pox. Some lived through it, but not many. Those that did, were usually scarred, either on the outside, with marks that were worse than any of Adelaide’s birthmarks, or on the inside. If they were lucky enough to survive, the internal scarring would cause only a persistent, hacking cough. Adelaide prayed her mother would be so lucky.

Her mother’s cough had grown increasingly worse, but so far she had not shown the outer marks of the pox. A good sign, to be sure, but not necessarily one that guaranteed her mother would survive.

“Be good, now,” her father had told her before he left for the castle. “Do everything you can to make your mother comfortable.”

“Yes, Papa,” she said proudly. She remembered perfectly what to do. He smiled at her and hugged her tight, then kissed his wife goodbye before leaving.

Adelaide had been doing so well, everything was right. When her mother began coughing again, she wasn’t alarmed. Though it sounded scary, it would be over in a few moments.

Only it wasn’t.

Adelaide’s mother continued to cough, her dry hacking barks changing into wet, gurgling ones. Adelaide tried to calm her mother, rubbing her back while she strained with the force of her body fighting against itself. Then she saw the blood. Streaming out of her mother’s mouth, Adelaide was barely able to stifle her scream as her mother retched the vile, red liquid over the side of the bed.

Her mother’s body calmed for a moment before the hacking took over again and she retched once more. Adelaide’s heart pounded. She had no idea what to do. Never before had she seen this part of the pox. Her father had always sheltered her from anyone who was in the final stages of the disease. He hadn’t realized as he left, that his wife was in the final stages as well.

“Addy,” her mother called to her hoarsely. She couldn’t answer. Fear had pinned her to her place. “Addy,” her mother said, more gently, giving Adelaide courage enough to push her fear aside for the moment.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Come lay beside me, baby,” her mother said, patting the bed next to her. Adelaide snuggled in next to her mother, holding her tightly around the waist, burrowing her head deep into her mother and the covers surrounding her.

“Addy, listen to me now.”

“Yes, Mama?”

“You mind your papa, and remember always that you are beautiful, inside and out.”

“I will, Mama.”

Her mother squeezed her tight and coughed some more. Adelaide could hear her mother strain to fill her lungs with air, and after a few moments, the gurgling breathing stopped. Her mother’s arm was still laying heavily around her, but was no longer clutching her tight. Adelaide knew her mother was dead.

Her father should have been there. If he was, he could have saved her. Instead, he was up at the castle, helping the queen, when he should have been at home.

Adelaide scooted out of her mother’s embrace, careful not to disturb her, and left the house, determined to find her father, fully prepared to storm the castle herself if need be.

Adelaide awoke, still feeling the anger pulse through her. She remembered her whole world falling apart in a moment, and how disappointed she’d been in her father. All that seething anger washed out of her the moment she saw the young prince waiting outside the queen’s chamber.

The Elder Prince’s young face was hard. He’d accepted the fact that the queen was going to die, but Prince Julian’s eyes still held hope. It was his eyes that had quieted Adelaide that day and kept her from barging into the queen’s bedroom, demanding to see her father. She’d had enough of loss that day, and so she decided to sit and hope next to him.

She’d forgotten how sad he had looked. For nearly ten years, she’d remained fixated on how he’d treated her later. Of course he would be angry. Wasn’t she? Perhaps Prince Julian’s coming to her home this morning had been his way of apologizing. If it was, she’d thrown it back in his face. Shame burned her cheeks. She wanted to make things right with the prince. Somehow, she needed to get to the ball.

Adelaide lit a candle.  Twilight was falling. It still might be possible to get there in time. The invitation was still sitting on her desk. She looked through her closet. Not surprisingly, she had nothing acceptable for a royal gala. Thalia’s closet, however, contained a veritable plethora of dresses that would work just fine.

Adelaide grabbed the doorknob. It was locked. She tried again. Still locked. Had her stepmother done this? Did she have a servant do it while she was sleeping?

With a great sigh, Adelaide sat on her bed, defeated. Even if she did make it out of her room, and borrowed one of Thalia’s dresses, there was no way she’d be able to make it to the castle. Celeste and Thalia had taken the only carriage the family possessed. It wouldn’t be possible to walk there, dressed in fine garments.

Making amends with the prince wasn’t going to work quite like she’d hoped. If she’d had any tears left, she’d have started crying again.

From the corner of her room, a tiny, bright light began to pulsate. Hovering near the floor, it slowly levitated up into the air. As it rose, it grew larger, and spreading outward, formed the outline of a person. Adelaide momentarily forgot how to breathe. Without a sound, the light burst forth in a blinding flash. Adelaide blinked and found herself looking into the eyes of a wrinkled, old woman.

“Who?” Adelaide stammered, not quite believing what she was seeing.

The old woman smiled at her. “Who am I?” she asked. “Why, I’m your fairy godmother, of course.”

CHAPTER 4

“My fairy what?”

“Your fairy godmother. Surely you’ve heard of a fairy godmother before,” the old woman said, drawing closer.

Adelaide shook her head and scooted further back on the bed.

“Well,” the old woman said, clucking her tongue in disbelief, “that’s very unfortunate indeed. I’m afraid fairy godmothers simply aren’t as common anymore as they used to be. Too much confusion with witches and the like, not to mention a general distrust of magic that has been brewing over the years, and there you have it - young girls and boys growing up without having a proper education regarding fairy folk.”

“I’m sorry,” Adelaide said, wondering if she was perhaps still asleep, “you’re
my
fairy godmother?”

“Yes, dear. Well,” she said, correcting herself, “to be precise I am
a
fairy godmother, and not just yours. I’m godmother to all young women who are in desperate need of my magical services.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

“No dear, I suppose you wouldn’t. Do you mind if I sit? I am older than I look, after all.”  Adelaide wondered briefly how that could be possible. The woman already looked absolutely ancient, the skin of her face falling into deeply wrinkled folds. Her eyelids drooped so low, it was amazing she could even see.

Adelaide pulled out a small stool for the old woman and retreated back to her bed. “Thank you my dear. That’s much better. Now, let’s get you up to speed on how having a fairy godmother works.”

Adelaide wasn’t sure if she should say anything, so she decided to simply nod.

“I’m here because I sensed that you had a great need. Need has its own particular aroma that we fairy folk can smell, and you are simply pulsating with it. Seeing how old you are, I’m guessing it has something to do with a boy. It usually does.”

Adelaide flushed.

“Ah, I’m correct. Let me guess, you want to go see this boy, but your family is keeping you from him. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Adelaide answered.