Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey - Страница 18
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of the Banished camp from his daughter. He didn’t want to frighten me, or
make me worry what might have become of me if I weren’t so valuable to
the city.
If my father had remarried and given Yuan another queen, and if the
court advisors had reviewed my case and found me sufficiently tainted, I
might be living in that camp today.
“They live on the outskirts, and are fed and watered like animals.” I
swallow hard and continue. “They can’t own shops or work in the orchards
or come near our animals or children. They can’t have children of their own
or seek help from the healers. Their lives are often … cut short. I would like
to help them.”
Gem growls something in his language, really growls for the first time
since the day he threatened to open my throat. “And you call my people
monsters.”
I flinch. He’s right. I didn’t realize how right until I met him.
I had always taken for granted that the texts on the Monstrous were
correct and that outer mutation was a sign of a corrupt soul, of being not
entirely human. But that clearly isn’t always the case. There is nothing
hideous about Gem’s soul. The same might not be said for all his
people—certainly not for the one who slaughtered my father—but for
Gem, ugliness is superficial. Surely it could be the same with the people
forced into the camp at the edge of the city. If a Monstrous can be so
human, surely some of those Banished citizens of Yuan are more human
still.
“It isn’t fair, I know,” I say. “But—”
“And why are these people cast out?” he asks. “Because they have
scaled skin or are bigger than the other children?”
“I don’t know. It was all decided before I was born. But I do know
this …” I drop my voice again. “Because of me … my … Some of the nobles
worry that mutations might be catching, beginning to infect those who
have always been immune. But if I can show them there’s a cure … or at
least a way to slow the process …” I clear my throat.
It’s difficult to talk about this with Gem. He doesn’t realize how
repulsive the Monstrous are to my people. He doesn’t think it odd that the
Monstrous grow plants to impede mutation but use them only for babies
born with scales covering their eyes, or in other rare cases where health is
threatened. He seems to think his people are beautiful.
“That’s why I need this garden,” I say, tugging another chunk of grass
from the earth and stuffing it into my pocket. “Why the city needs this
garden.”
“They don’t need a garden. They need a queen.”
I blink in the direction of his voice. “What does that mean?”
“You have more power than you think. You could put a stop to this
with a word.”
“I couldn’t.” I shiver at the thought. I can’t even convince Junjie to
change the seating arrangement in the great hall so that I don’t have to eat
on a pedestal at the center of all the gossip.
“Division makes a people weak,” he says. “My chief would never
allow this.”
“You don’t understand. I’m queen, but I’m not—”
“Excuses.” He grunts as he struggles to stand.
“It’s not an excuse,” I say, not sure whether to be offended or hurt.
“I’m tainted. Not as badly as those who are banished, but the whole people
still won’t listen to me. They’ll think—”
“It doesn’t matter what they think.” The sound of his hoe being flung
onto the dirt makes me flinch. “It only matters that they do what—”
“Move away from the queen!” The shout comes from the edge of the
field, making me flinch again. Bo. I didn’t know he was here. He wasn’t with
the other soldiers when they arrived with Gem.
But he’s been doing this lately, materializing wherever I happen to
be. He says it’s because his father asked him to keep a “special eye” on me.
A special eye. I don’t like the sound of it.
“It’s all right!” I call. “We’re only talking.”
“We’re finished talking.” Gem is already shuffling away. The rattle of
the chains hobbling his feet makes the skin at the back of my neck bunch. I
hate that sound. I hate that I’ve never had the courage to ask for the chains
to be removed. “Tell the guards I’m ready to go back to my cell.”
“Are you all right?” Bo squats beside me, his swift breath ruffling the
hair above my ear. I want to swat it away like an insect, but I don’t. Bo
hasn’t done anything inappropriate. Not really.
“I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile.
It’s not Bo’s fault that I’m having a difficult time embracing our
impending betrothal. Junjie hasn’t said anything outright, but his
machinations aren’t as subtle as he believes. Bo is always seated next to me
at dinner, always the one chosen to deliver messages to my rooms, and the
only guard allowed to be alone with me. As soon as my mourning is over,
Junjie will be at the tower door with official betrothal documents in hand,
asking me to sign away what little freedom I’ve enjoyed since Baba’s death.
Bo is a good man, a good boy—only nineteen, the same age as
Gem—but even good men can make cruel jailors. My father locked my
mother in the tower for months before she made her fatal escape, and he
held me prisoner for years. What if Bo proves to be a king who prefers his
wife kept under lock and key?
I know it’s my duty to marry as soon as custom allows, but I can’t
help wishing I had more time to adjust to the idea, to adjust to Bo. He’s
attentive and flattering, but aside from his opinions on wine and music, I
don’t know much about him. I can’t seem to scratch the surface to find out
what—if anything—lies beneath.
Winter, as miserable as it is, can’t pass slowly enough this year.
“Are you sure?” Bo asks.
“I’m sure.” I brush the dirt from my hands, moving a degree away
from him in the process. “Gem’s only tired. His legs hurt. He needs an
escort back to his rooms.”
“Right away.” Bo calls to the other soldiers, clearly relieved to be rid
of our prisoner. He’s spoken to Gem a few times, but never more than a
word or two. Gem obviously makes him uncomfortable. I know Bo would
welcome an excuse to tell his father I shouldn’t be allowed to work with the
Monstrous anymore.
That knowledge makes me careful to remain calm as I call—
“Gem?”
“Yes, my lady?” The words are crisp, cutting in their politeness. I’m
the one who told him he must call me “my lady” when other people are
around, but at the moment I hate the sound of the words.
“Will you come to work tomorrow?”
“You’re the queen, my lady,” he says. “You don’t have to ask.”
“I want to ask.” I mimic his sugary tone exactly, down to the hint of a
snarl hiding beneath. “Wouldn’t your chief ask?”
“I don’t know, my lady. My chief doesn’t keep slaves.” He shuffles
away, the rattle of his chains banishing any whisper of protest.
He’s right. He is a slave. But what can I do to change that, when I’m
not much more than a slave myself? I can work on this healing garden and
do what I can to help my people, but I will never fundamentally change
Yuan. In a city bought with blood, certain things will never change. Can
never change. If they did, the city and her bickering people and hungry
roses would cease to exist.
I fold my arms around myself, cold despite the layers I put on before
leaving the tower. I’m always cold, lately. There never seems to be enough
fire or hot tea or ginger soup to thaw the things frozen inside.
“What’s wrong?” Bo’s hand warms my knee. He’s settled down to sit
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