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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHARLOTTE

M y gaze was fixed on the iron gates of the prison as they slammed shut behind Jorge.

The sound echoed in my chest like a death knell.

I pressed my fingers against the carriage window, smudging the glass as I watched the guards shove him forward.

He didn’t resist, his broad shoulders slumped, his head bowed.

This was wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. I turned to the mage, who was glaring at me. Before I opened my mouth, she answered my unasked question .

“His fate will be decided by Prince Adom. As commander of the military, it is his right to pass judgment.”

Jorge had told me that he and the Beast Prince had fought side by side, that they’d even come to trust each other. But Jorge had also tried to steal his bride. Would Adom show mercy? Or would the beast let his claws do the talking?

“As for you, you will be returned to your employer. Belle, your name is? As the seamstress for the fairy princess, you must ensure her dress is ready for tomorrow’s wedding.”

“You know who I am.”

The mage didn’t deny it. Her silence spoke volumes, her expression one of knowing, like a predator waiting to strike.

“What do you want?”

The mage leaned back and regarded me as if amused by my defiance. “What I want is for you to understand your place in the scheme of the stars. My task is to ensure the curse is broken. That means the princess chosen by the first moon must marry the prince of Solmane.”

“And if the princess refuses?”

The mage leaned forward until she was almost nose to nose with me. “The crown will make sure they break her toy soldier. And they’ll send him back to her in pieces.”

The mage made two mistakes. The first one was that she threatened Jorge's life. I had been calm while I'd thought they were just going to lock him up. The mention of ending his life meant all bets in whatever game she referred to were off.

The second mistake she made was that she let me get too close to her. There was an open wound on her arm from where I'd struck her. I grabbed hold of it and let my magic pour through.

Her eyes widened, and then she slumped down in the seat. She was completely numb from the top of her head down to the toes in her boots. She wouldn't be able to move for hours with as much of my magic as I pumped into her.

The carriage came to a stop inside the palace gates. I didn't wait for the driver to open the door. I climbed down, announcing that the mage had fallen asleep and I was headed back to my mistress. The driver didn't even question me.

Like the summer castle, once inside the walls of the palace, there were no guards. I knew the layout of the palace, including the rooms that would be mine. Looking the fright that I did, I knew I wouldn't make it past the servants in the main hall.

The door of the servants’ entrance creaked as I slipped inside. The corridors were dark and silent. My footsteps were careful, measured, as I made my way to the second floor.

A cluster of guards was stationed at the next landing. There would be no sneaking past them. My gaze shifted to a nearby window, its frame just within reach. If going over walls had gotten me this far, I could climb farther.

The cool metal of the windowsill bit into my palms as I hoisted myself up and out.

Outside, the wind whipped against my face, and I clung to the ledge for balance.

My destination was clear: the grand window that opened into Prince Adom’s chambers.

If I could reach him, I could plead for Jorge’s life. Beg if I had to.

The climb felt longer than it should have. Each pull of my arms reminded me of how my body ached from the gauntlet. My fingertips brushed the edge of the prince’s window. When I reached for it, an invisible force repelled me.

I gasped, nearly losing my grip. A ward. Of course, he would ward his chambers.

I scanned the castle’s exterior, my eyes catching on a smaller window glowing faintly with candlelight. If memory served, those were my quarters. Which meant Belle would be there, likely fussing over wedding preparations.

A new plan formed as I swung toward the glowing window, my muscles burning with the effort. When I reached it, the latch gave way under my hand, and I slipped inside.

The climb through the window had been the easy part—the landing, not so much. I tumbled through in a flurry of limbs and fabric, my gown catching on the frame with a sharp rip. Kicking free, I landed in a heap on the floor, gasping for air as though I’d just run a marathon.

“Charlotte?”

I collected myself and stood to face the seamstress. Instead of a hello, how are you, I lead with, “I need your help.”

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 storm clouds 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?”

"Well, at least you're not as selfish as I thought." Belle pursed her lips as she apprised me anew. "His mother defied the moon and married the wrong man, and now he’s cursed to live as a beast. Avarix will break the curse if he marries the fairy princess he choose for Adom: you."

"And if I don't?"

"If you don’t marry him, the moon will take its revenge on Evergrove next."