Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey - Страница 7
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my dress, and I shoved her away, pricking my fingers on the sharps in her
apron in the process.
Strangely, the pain calmed me. Needle’s gentle touch, her hands like
birds alighting on my head, my shoulder, my cheek, communicating
concern with every cool brush across my skin, calmed me more. She was
only fifteen, but her touch reminded me of my mama’s. I let her stay, when
I’d sent every other companion away.
I’m surprised to find I want her now. I would very much like to have
Needle’s slim fingers under mine, making the signs for “Calm down” and
“We’ll sort this out.” I didn’t think I was afraid of anything, but now I am.
I’m afraid.
My fingers tremble as I touch the torn flesh at my shoulder. I don’t
feel the poison yet, but I could. At any moment. I try to swallow, but my
throat is too tight. I don’t want to die. Not like this. It’s not fair! I’ve lived
with Death hovering on my shoulder my entire life, but I never—
“Should I carry you, Princess?” The soldier’s hand warms the small of
my back. My spine ripples as I twist away. His touch is foreign, unexpected,
too strange after the night I’ve had.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t …” The soldier clears his throat. “I was
wounded as well.”
“You were?”
“The Monstrous tore the skin at my leg.” He sounds younger than he
did before. Scared.
I reach out, brushing his shoulder with my hand, surprised to find
that my arm is parallel to the ground. The soldier is nearly my size, shorter
only by a bit. “Thank you. For helping me.”
“Please, don’t thank me.” His hand finds the small of my back again,
settling over the knobby bones of my spine. The warmth of him—cooler
than the Monstrous but warmer than me, in my sweat-damp
clothes—heats my hips. My stomach. My chest. “It was a privilege to
defend the life of our queen.”
“I’m not—” Before I realize what’s happening, soft, hot skin presses
against my half-open mouth. I flinch, but the soldier’s hand at my back
holds me still as his lips move against mine, as his tongue flicks out, bidding
a cautious hello.
A kiss. This is a kiss. It is … slipperier than I’d imagined. His tongue
is …
A tongue? Who would have thought?
A part of me wants to laugh at this soldier and the jabs of the slick
muscle invading my mouth, but another part of me is … fluttering.
Something stirs inside me. Something urges me to tilt my head and move
my lips, to dart my own tongue out—quick as a wink—for a taste.
Salty. Sweet. Hint of cabbage. Something familiar in the midst of all
the unfamiliar feelings that are making my skin warm and my insides as hot
as the Monstrous man’s flesh.
I pull back, heart beating too fast. “We should go to the cells. The
monster might have revealed the cure.”
“We should, but if we die tonight, I—”
“No one’s going to die,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
“Come with me.” I start down the path, but stop after only a few steps. I’ve
never been to the cells. I’ve never dared go that deep into the city proper.
I hold out a hand. “Guide me. Hurry.”
“Yes, my lady.” A second later, his arm is under mine. It’s strong and
densely muscled, but the bare skin at his wrist is as soft as all the skin I’ve
felt in my life. Much, much softer than mine. This soldier is a whole citizen
of Yuan.
So why did he kiss me? A tainted girl, too tall and too wide, with skin
peeling from the chest down in a frustrated attempt to reveal the scales
that lurk beneath the surface? I’m obviously not sufficiently tainted to be
sent to the Banished camp, but even the slightest sign of mutation is
reviled. From what I’ve overheard, a whole citizen would rather die than
marry someone with Monstrous features, no matter how mildly they might
manifest.
He’s hardly thinking marriage. He’s thinking he’s going to die and
yours might be the final lips he encounters.
The thought banishes the last of the tingling sensation from my body,
expelling it like a fish bone. I lift my chin, holding my head high as we move
swiftly toward the city proper. I do my best not to think about dying with
the taste of this stranger on my lips.
Dying. If I’m dying, I’ll never get the chance to tell my father that I
have dreams that live outside the tower, to confess how much I need
something … more. Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t cry. I sip in a breath and
hold the air in my lungs.
The soldier pats my rough hand with his softer one. “My name is Bo.
I’ll stay with you until the healers come. My father would want that.”
“Your father?”
“Junjie,” he says, his voice dipping and sliding on the last part. That’s
why he sounds familiar. Junjie’s son. “My father’s spoken of me?”
“No. I didn’t know he had a son.”
“Oh.” The word is a stone plunking sadly into the water.
“But he doesn’t speak to me often,” I say, feeling a little sorry,
despite my fear and the shame still lingering on my lips. “Most of the time
he’s only at the tower to steal my father away on business.”
“Yes. The king … I …” He sighs, a pained sound that sets fretful things
stirring in my stomach.
“What about the king?”
“Nothing.” He walks faster. “Your wounds need treatment.”
“No. Tell me. What were you going to say?”
“I can’t,” he whispers. “Your health is the most important thing.”
“I feel fine.” I do. The scratches still sting, but the feverish sensation
is gone. I’m no healer, but it doesn’t feel as if there’s poison in my blood. It
makes me wonder …
Has my slight mutation made me immune to the creature’s venom,
or … could the texts about the poison in Monstrous claws be wrong? Was
the Monstrous lying when he said I’d die without his help, saying whatever
he had to say in order to escape to the river?
“The river.” My hand tightens on Bo’s arm. “The Monstrous wanted
me to take him to the caverns where the underground river flows. That
must be how they—”
“We know,” he interrupts, making me sputter. I can’t remember the
last time I was interrupted. Have I ever been interrupted? “There were
three other creatures. Their hair was damp when we captured them. My
father guessed where they’d come from. There are guards in place now. No
more Monstrous will get into the city tonight.”
“Did you kill the others?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer. The
Monstrous are terrifying, but they also have language and pain. They aren’t
the complete savages Baba and Junjie have made them out to be. There’s a
chance we might be able to make peace with them.
“Not yet.” Even in those two small words, his bloodlust is clear.
“They speak our language,” I say gently. “They might not be as
savage as we’ve thought.”
Bo’s muscles flex beneath my hand. “They’re worse. They’re devils.”
“Devils or not, it doesn’t make sense to kill them if we don’t have to.
It will only make things worse for the city.” I think of the Monstrous man,
how he endured my fingers roaming his face. He could have killed me, but
he didn’t. He showed mercy. How can we do anything but offer the same?
“It will be up to you to decide, of course.” Bo’s voice is stiff. “My
queen.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, wishing I didn’t need his arm to guide
me. I’d prefer not to be touching this soldier anymore. “I’m not queen yet.”
“Yes, my lady,” he whispers. “You are.”
I am?
I … am.
The ground turns against me, and I trip over the raised edge of a
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