Page 56 of Beauty Reborn
And my heart was in his grasp.
And he was squeezing tighter.
When he moved toward me, I gripped my ring. But before I could turn it, Rob stepped forward.
“That’s far enough, my lord,” he said, his expression pleasant even though his voice was as cold as the winter outside.
Stephan actually came to a halt, shock evident on his face. “I beg your pardon, peasant. Did you just give me an order?”
Rob did not budge, and now my father stood with him. Off to the side, Callista wrung her hands, glancing at me, until she finally took my hand and pulled me back a step.
My jaw hung open as much as Stephan’s did.
“Well, so much for the warm welcome,” he drawled at last, glancing over his shoulder at Astra. Her cheeks flamed.
“You have my answer concerning my daughter,” Father said firmly. “It hasn’t changed.”
Astra joined Stephan’s side. “Father, be reasonable. Beauty’s marriage to Stephan will make all our fortunes again. Callista and I will have dowries. Rob will have status.”
“You’ve been speaking behind my back.” Father stood straight, his face stormy. “And he’s promised all this, has he?”
“Of course,” Stephan purred. “Anything for family.”
I was a carving at a carnival, and Stephan was the merchant in the stall, bartering my worth. Two dowries and the social standing to match—what a bargain. How selfish of me for never considering how my misery could buy my family’s happiness.
But even if they hated me for it, I couldn’t.
And I couldn’t stay silent. It was not in me to die with fear in my throat.
I opened my mouth, but Father spoke first.
“The answer remains.”
Rob nodded.
Callista’s hand tightened on mine.
And my eyes stung.
Stephan’s smile thinned. He looked past Rob’s shoulder and said to me, “Come now, my Beauty. You can’t be this selfish.”
But I could.
Because the people I loved supported me.
“I’ll never marry you, Stephan,” I said, with more force and power than I had at his last proposal.
I wished saying it would break some kind of spell, would fill me with confidence and banish his ghost. It didn’t. My hands still trembled. But I felt something, some kind of settling, like the tide washing out and leaving the beach to breathe. And that was enough.
“Sounds clear to me,” said Rob.
“I own you,” Stephan said to Father, a dare in his gleaming eyes.
But Father only shook his head. “The baron may own these lands, my taxes, and my allegiance, but not my daughter. If there is a problem, I’ll find another land. I have no fortune to lose.”
Stephan narrowed his eyes on me, but I would not help him talk his way around Father this time.
“There is a piece of me,” I said, “taken by force. That is yours. Content yourself with it. My hope is that it will become a fire, and on your lowest night, it will turn on you and scorch your conscience.”
