Page 35 of The Beautiful Blade

Belle gaped at me, scissors clutched in her hand like a sword. She pointed, the sharp tip shaking slightly. “You…”—she jabbed the air toward me—“…need my…”—she shifted the scissors toward herself—“…help?”

“Yes.”

Her face turned crimson, and I braced myself for the outburst. “You ran away! You left me to marry the prince!”

“I never told you to marry the prince. That was your decision.”

“Your decision left me with no choice! Your mother shoved a veil over my head and told me to go to him because you were gone. What was I supposed to do, say no to your mother?”

“I find it better to say nothing at all and then run.”

Belle sputtered, words failing her. The wedding dress lay crumpled on the floor. It was beautiful—delicate embroidery shimmering in the candlelight, the fabric cascading like liquid gold. I picked it up, running my fingers over the intricate beading. “The dress came out nice.”

“Nice?” Her voice dropped an octave, a low, furious growl. “Nice?”

“We don’t have time for this. I need your help. It’s about Jorge.”

“Jorge? The human who tried to kidnap me?”

“He thought he was kidnapping me, not you. But it doesn’t matter now. He’s in trouble, and you’re the only one who can get him out.”

Her laugh was bitter. “You think I’m going to help you? After everything you’ve done?”

“Yes,” I said simply, meeting her glare head-on. “You have to.”

Belle scoffed, crossing her arms tighter, the scissors still clutched in her hand. “I don’t have to do anything. You can’t order me around anymore, Charlotte. I’m not your servant.”

“You’re not a princess, either.”

“No, I’m nearly a queen.”

We glared at each other. The charged silence crackled like static before a storm. One of us had to break first. I forced myself to soften, to let the stormclouds in my eyes dissolve. But not into rain. I couldn't let my defenses crack that much.

“Please, Belle. If you don’t help me, Jorge will die.”

So many emotions flittered over her face. I could see them being woven across her features. The finished creation somehow looked worn and tattered. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

Relief surged through me, but it was short-lived as her gaze hardened again.

“On one condition. You’ll marry him; that’s my condition.”

I couldn't speak. The noose that had been around my neck since my birth tied itself into a new knot, one I didn't think I'd get out of a second time.

The moon hung low in the night sky. Avarix shone cold and distant, his pale light cutting through the shadows like a blade. It felt like he was glaring at me, judging me, punishing me. Avarix was supposed to protect us, to nurture the night-blooming flowers that sustained our people, but his light had grown dimmer with every passing year.

“Why wouldn’t you want to be queen? You could have everything you’ve ever dreamed of—endless fabric to create your gowns. Or you wouldn’t have to make gowns at all. You could wear them instead, show them off to the court.”

“I don’t want any of that, Charlotte.” Belle sat down on the bed.

I slid down and sat beside her. “I don’t want it either.”

Jorge had once said Prince Adom had gotten under his skin, that they’d become friends despite everything. And now, looking at Belle, I saw that same bond reflected in her green eyes. Hopeless, doomed love. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

I turned to my could've-been-friend. “Why would you give him up if you love him?"

“You don't know about the curse, do you?”

“What curse?”

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