Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey - Страница 40
- Предыдущая
- 40/73
- Следующая
sure you were safe.”
“I’m fine,” I whisper, swaying as the darkness I was certain was all I
would ever know is ripped to pieces.
“You knew he was free?” Bo practically shouts into my ear, but I
don’t turn to look at him. “Did you let him—”
“Please … wait …” My breath comes faster as my aching eyes pull
Gem into focus. He’s fuzzy around the edges, blooming with black stains
that obscure this part or that for a moment or two, but I can see him. I truly
can.
“I can see.” My voice trembles. The rest of me trembles harder. “I
can see.”
I can. I can see Gem. And he is … nothing like I remembered. His
shoulders are wide and well muscled but hardly mountainous. His mouth is
generous, but in proportion to the rest of his face. His high cheekbones are
severe but elegant, and his long, silky braid is lovely—a thing of almost
feminine beauty when compared to the rest of him. Even the places where
orange and yellow scales dust his forehead aren’t strange-looking to me
now. The scales are nature’s jewelry, bringing out the gold tones in his skin,
making his dark eyes sparkle even in the dim light from the candles burning
inside the tower.
He is beautiful. Beautiful, and a man, no doubt about it. Larger and
stronger and different from the men of my city, but a man through and
through. How could I have ever thought differently? How could I have
thought him a monster, even for a moment? How could I have looked into
those eyes that first night and not seen that we are not only similar
creatures but kindred spirits? Not because he is Monstrous and I am
tainted but because we are both human in the same way. The way Needle
is human and my father—for all his faults—was human. The kind of human
who wants to make other people’s lives better, who is willing to sacrifice
for the people we love, who puts the good of the majority before the good
of the few.
Bo’s voice pricks at my ears again, closer than before. “You see
because I made you see. I was the one who told you about the poison.”
“The poison,” I mutter, realizing the bigger implications of my
newfound sight. “How did you know about the poison? Who has been—”
“When I tell my father you let the beast out of its cage, and spent the
day in the garden with it with no guards present, he’ll wall up this balcony,”
Bo says, pointedly ignoring my questions. “You’ll never leave this tower
again.”
Yes, Gem is human. Human in a way Bo is not.
I’m not surprised; I’m only relieved he thinks gardening is all Gem
and I have been doing. But then, why would he suspect anything else?
When he considers Gem a monster?
“Isra?” That’s all Gem says, simply my name, but I know what it
means, what he’s offering. His assistance, whatever I need. I can see it in his
eyes so intent on mine.
With one swipe of Gem’s claws, we could be rid of Bo. With a heave
of Gem’s strong arms, Bo would go flying over the edge of the balcony, past
the edge of the roofs, and down, down, down to his death. I could hide
Gem in my room after. I could say that Bo proposed, and when I refused, he
was so distraught that he flung himself from the balcony.
I could give Gem the word … but I won’t.
Because I’m not tainted where it counts. There is nothing wrong with
my soul. It’s only now, when I have the chance to do something truly
wicked and I’m certain I don’t want to, that the truth seems clear to me.
“Isra?” Gem caresses my name with his voice, as if he understands
what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, how things are shifting inside me with a
speed that makes me grateful for Needle’s wiry body bracing mine.
“You let it call you by name?” Bo asks, his horror clear.
I turn, slowly, so as not to disturb my fragile hold on my focus, and
look at Bo with my own eyes for the first time. He looks different than he
did the night the roses showed him standing at the tower door. Smaller and
softer. He’s a good half meter shorter than Gem, and a few centimeters
shorter than me, but broad and solid. His hair is as black as Gem’s, but
coarser. Tiny hairs escape his braid to spring around the perfect oval of his
face. There, dark, nearly black eyebrows slash down toward the straight
slope of his nose, pale brown eyes the color of walnut shells float in shallow
sockets, and softly rounded lips perch above a strong but sweetly dimpled
chin.
I see at once why women find him desirable. He is strong, healthy,
and handsome. But he is not beautiful. Not to me. I will never anticipate his
touch. I will never find him anything but repulsive.
And I will regret for the rest of my life that Gem has to witness what
I’ll do next.
“You will say nothing to your father,” I say, pressing on before Bo can
interrupt. “You will return to your rooms and pretend this night never
happened. Then, come spring, when my mourning is over, you will propose
and I will accept.”
Bo’s mouth closes, and his angry eyebrows float away from his eyes.
“You will?”
“You have my word,” I say, fighting the urge to look at Gem, to see
what he thinks about this. What he feels …
Bo’s gaze shifts from me to Gem and back again. “All right. But in
exchange for my silence, you will stop this nonsense with the creature
immediately. It isn’t a pet. It’s dangerous.”
“Gem isn’t dangerous,” I say, emphasizing his name, making it clear
Gem isn’t an it in my mind.
“How can you say that? One of them killed your father, Isra.”
“Yes, one of them did,” I admit. “But it wasn’t Gem. Gem is my
friend.”
“Your friend?”
“And he’s been a great help to me,” I say, ignoring Bo’s scandalized
tone, and hoping I haven’t pushed this too far. “I can’t get the new garden
ready without him.”
“Then you can give up the new garden.” Bo gives me a stern, almost
fatherly look that I can tell I’m going to grow to hate over the course of our
marriage, no matter how brief the union may be. “We don’t need another
garden. Our people are well provided for with what we have already.”
“No, Bo. They aren’t.” I fight to keep my tone even. “Our city’s
customs are unfair to many of our people. The new garden will grow plants
that will provide healing and protection from mutation. I need this. We all
need it. And Gem has agreed to help me.”
Bo puffs out his chest and tips his chin down, but unfortunately for
him, it’s impossible to glare down at someone taller than yourself. “I won’t
have my wife playing in the dirt with a monster. The nobles already think
you’re strange. What if someone had seen you today? Alone with this
thing? What if he’d hurt you? Killed you? Where would that have left the
city?”
“Please.” Anger flares inside me, but I know I have no right to it, not
when I’ve been as cruel to Gem as Bo is being now. In a kinder way, but
still …
Let him go. You have to let him go.
As soon as the thought races through my mind, I know it’s right. I
have to give Gem his freedom, no matter how my people will hate me, or
how miserable it makes me to imagine my life without him. We’ll plant the
garden, and I’ll send him on his way with a cart full of food and promises to
leave more outside the gate whenever I can. It’s the very least I can do.
“As your future wife,” I say, “I beg you to trust my judgment. If Gem
intended to hurt me, he would have done so already.”
“You can’t know that.” Bo scowls again. “You’re too trusting.”
- Предыдущая
- 40/73
- Следующая
