Page 39 of The Beautiful Blade

Prince Adom broke the door down with his front paws. Screams erupted from outside. Then he turned and made a motion with his head. I didn't speak lion, but I got his message. I hopped on his back, still clothed in my wedding dress, and hung on to his mane for dear life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

JORGE

The shackles weighed heavily on my wrists, biting into the raw skin beneath. The royal guard had coated the shackles in a nullifying alloy. It was one I had created. Unfortunately, I hadn't bothered to develop a counter against this counter attack. I'd never expected my own creation would be used on me.

Every jolt of the carriage sent a fresh wave of pain up my arms and across my back. My body screamed in protest. I bit down on the agony. Pain was an old friend. It had walked beside me in the stables, in thegames, in the barracks, and now in the rattling dark of this cursed wagon.

The carriage ground to a halt, the wooden wheels creaking against the gravel road. My ears perked at the sound of another set of wheels coming to rest nearby. Through the small, barred window, I caught a glimpse of the royal crest embossed on a carriage gilded in gold.

I braced myself, imagining the Beast Prince’s claws around my throat. But when the door to the royal carriage swung open, it wasn’t Adom who descended.

Her golden eyes scanned her surroundings with predatory precision. Her mane of sunlit hair caught the light like a halo, though there was nothing angelic about the Lioness Queen.

The guards dragged Belle’s limp body from the carriage like a sack of flour. Once again, I marveled that anyone could confuse her and my Charlotte. She was so small, so still where Charlotte would've been kicking and screaming. Even still, Belle hadn’t deserved any of this.

“Take her inside,” the Lioness Queen ordered.

The guards obeyed without hesitation, carrying Belle into the palace as though the weight of her body didn’t matter. The Lioness turned, her golden eyes locking on me like I was a foal cut off from the herd.

“You were his friend.”

“I am his friend.”

The queen's lips curved into something between a frown and a sneer. “And yet you stole his bride.”

“Charlotte is my world.” My voice gained strength with every word. “My heart is hers to command. As long as she wants me, I’ll fight to get back to her.”

“He won’t be fighting much longer.” The Fairy Queen appeared, her lavender skin shimmering under the light of the two suns. Her eyes glinted with malice as she glared at me.

The Lioness Queen didn’t acknowledge her immediately. She kept her gaze fixed on me, her expression unreadable. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and deliberate. “You would betray your future king, your country, for that fairy?”

"Yes, Your Majesty. The late king was your great love. What if you had been told to marry someone else instead of him? Would you have done the same?”

Her lips twitched in the ghost of a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It was a dangerous game you attempted to play. Attempted and lost."

"Who exactly lost?"

She studied me for another moment. "I pray she grants you a quick death. We should all be so lucky.”

“I wish I could kill him now and be done with it," the Fairy Queen hissed in frustration, her delicate features twisting in fury. "I have to return to Evergrove. A mother's work is never done. Is it, Amara?”

"It's Your Majesty." The Lioness Queen corrected the Fairy Queen without so much as a glance her way.

The Fairy Queen's smirk faltered, the edges of her carefully composed expression cracking like fragile porcelain. Her eyes darted away from the queen’s and met with mine.

"You were never a mother to her," I snarled. "You were a madam."

Queen Indira snapped her fingers at the guards, her voice dripping with venom. “Make it slow. Make it agonizing. And leave the body for the trolls.”

The carriage lurched forward again, this time taking flight. The pegasuses’ wings beat heavily against the air. Their gait was uneven beneath us. Something was wrong.

The carriage swayed unnaturally. The wheels clattered every so often, as if they scraped against an uneven track. But we were in the air, not on the ground. We weren't going to get far, and when we landed, I'd be ready.

But ready for what? To go back to the capitol and save Charlotte? Was I really saving her? What would life with me even look like? Living in barns? Fighting for our lives as the royal army chased after us?

Maybe if I left her with Adom, she would be fine. Adom wasn't a bad man, far from it. He was one of the best men I knew.

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