Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey (книги онлайн полные версии бесплатно TXT) 📗

FIVE

ISRA

“YOU were missed at the harvest feast last night.” Junjie hovers so

close to my side, I can smell the oil he uses to shape his mustache.

Needle tells me his lip hair is as long as my hand from palm to

fingertip and as big around as my thumb. I take her word as truth. The

thought of asking permission to touch Junjie’s face makes me fidget with

nerves. Of all my advisors, my chief is by far the most intimidating.

“I wasn’t feeling well.” I bring two fingers to my forehead, faking the

ghost of a headache I never had.

“Then you should have called for the healers,” he says. “Your health

is too important to the city to take any chances, Isra. You know that.”

“I know,” I mumble, wishing I had arranged to meet the Monstrous

and his guards in the field, instead of coming with the soldiers to fetch the

beast.

It has been only three weeks since I became queen, and already I

grow tired of my newfound “freedom.” Each time I dare set foot outside my

tower, fretful, bossy old men shadow my every move. Junjie and the other

advisors would obviously prefer that, until I’m married, I pass my days

alone in my bedroom surrounded by mountains of pillows. I’m treated like

a foolish child with bones made of glass, and I hate it.

I long for my walks alone in the garden, for the velvet night sounds

and the gentle light of the moons. I long for the time when my ugliness was

a secret guarded by the father who loved me. Now no one loves me, and

my secret is a scandal that has set the entire city talking.

“I will have a healer appointed to the tower,” Junjie says. “A woman,

so that she may sleep there with you and—”

“Sleep there? In the tower?” I ask, horrified by the thought of a

stranger invading my last safe place. “But where would we put her? Needle

and I already share my bedroom.”

“She can sleep in your dressing room. There’s enough space beside

the bath for a small cot, and she can keep her clean uniforms underneath.”

“Please, Junjie,” I beg. “I don’t need a healer sleeping in my dressing

room. I’m not an invalid. It was only a headache.”

“The kingdom would sleep better knowing a healer is minutes from

your side.”

“The kingdom is safe. I’ll call for someone next time I have the

smallest ache or pain. I promise,” I say, wishing Needle would hurry and get

back with word from the Monstrous’s cell and save me from Junjie. The

guards went to fetch the creature from the prisoners’ floor of the infirmary

nearly twenty minutes ago.

What’s taking so long?

“Very well, but the people need assurance that you are in good

health and fit to rule. It’s time you dined with the nobles at court, at least

during special celebrations,” Junjie says, disapproval clear in his voice. I may

be queen, but in his eyes I’m still the naughty little girl who threw paint on

the king’s best fur when she was four years old. “You owe it to the city to

honor its traditions.”

“I know. I just couldn’t. Not last night,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

When I was younger, I used to beg to be allowed to accompany Baba

to the harvest banquet, but he always said no. It seemed wrong to go last

night without his permission, without him. I’m not ready to face the court

alone, and I don’t see why I should have to.

We’re all in mourning, the entire city grieving the loss of their king.

Needle tells me Yuan is painted with loss: tables covered in red cloth,

mirrors draped in white, and men with black scarves tied around their

arms, and I myself wearing green and only green until the first day of

spring, as is tradition for a child in mourning.

“I understand,” Junjie says in a gentler tone, reminding me that there

is a heart beneath his gruff exterior. “But remember, you are not alone. I

am here to support your rule. I served your father well for twenty years; I

will serve you just as faithfully.”

Though not as long. He doesn’t say the words, but I hear them

lurking in the silence after he speaks. My mother went to the roses thirteen

years ago. The offerings are usually made no more than thirty years apart.

In ten years—or seventeen, if I’m lucky and the city’s magic holds strong—it

will be my turn. If Baba had lived and remarried, things would have been

different, but he’s dead and they aren’t. The fact hangs around my neck like

a stone, making it harder to pull myself from the pit of my grief.

The healing garden is the only bright spot in my darkness. When the

Monstrous boy’s father first told Junjie his son would be helpful in our

gardens, I admit I was less than impressed. Our gardens do very well on

their own, thank you very much. What captured my attention was his

insistence that his son knew how to grow and mix the healing pouches the

Monstrous use to ward off further mutation in their young. I did my best to

conceal my curiosity from Junjie, but I’m sure he guesses why I fought for a

plot of land and the chance to help the Monstrous create a new garden.

For years I’ve been certain there was no hope for me, but what if

there is a way to reverse my mutation? Or at least be certain the peeling of

my flesh will never spread? For years, I’ve had nightmares about waking up

to find my face and neck as scaled as the rest of my body. Now I have hope

that those nightmares might someday be a thing of the past. I could barely

sleep last night, I was so eager to begin.

And now the beast is ruining the morning by being difficult. That

must be what’s keeping the guards. Unless …

Unless the monster attacked them. Unless they are even now doing

battle with it. If that’s the case, I’ll have the creature’s claws cut out.

I should have given the order yesterday when he dared to put his

claws to my throat, but I was afraid Junjie would find the guards asleep at

their posts and guess at the stupid, impulsive thing I’d done. If he finds out I

was alone with the Monstrous, I—

“In the name of that service,” Junjie continues, startling me from my

thoughts, “I’ve scheduled your coronation for the week after next.”

My lips part. “Week after next? But I—”

“The plans are under way,” he says, interrupting me. Again. It seems

Baba was the only member of court who thought a blind girl deserved the

right to finish her sentences. “Out of respect for the violent nature of the

king’s death, the celebration will be subdued—simply a short procession

and the ceremonial presentation of the crown and scepter. Afterward,

you’ll be taken onto the dais to be cheered by the common people, and

we’ll conclude with a banquet in the afternoon, during which the members

of court will be able to present themselves to you personally.”

I bite my lip and nod my agreement. I want to beg him to postpone

for another month or more, but I know it would do no good. Once Junjie

has set something in motion, there is no stopping him. He is inexorable. It’s

one of the qualities my father valued most in his chief advisor.

I, however, have yet to acquire Baba’s appreciation for Junjie’s

single-mindedness. Persuading my advisor to allow me to work in the new

garden with the Monstrous—even accompanied by four armed

guards—took every bit of stubbornness I possess and then some. If getting

my way as ruler is always going to be so difficult, I’ll have to choose my