Before Beauty by Brittany Fichter

in princess’s
rags.
    The gown she chose was simple, but
still luxurious. The main fabric was dark blue that crisscrossed
the white bodice, with intricate silver stitching adorning the blue
skirt just below the waist. It was a dress her peers would have
done anything to wear in the city. Despite the fine craftsmanship,
unfortunately, the dress smelled as awful as the rest of the
Fortress. And yet, Isa was still forced to wear it.
    Not even allowed to take her own
gown off by herself, Isa was subjected to much pulling and pushing
as it was tugged off of her like a farmer might sheer a sheep. She
could feel pulls and pushes at her sturdy boots as well, but she
adamantly refused to let those leave her feet. She wasn’t entirely
sure that she’d be able to walk through the length of the palace
without them.
    “ You can do anything else to me
that you wish,” she scowled at the fussing shadows, “but those are
not coming off until I am ready for bed.”
    Eventually, to her relief, they
left her boots alone and began to fuss with her hair instead,
which, admittedly, was rather messy from her journey up the
mountain in the cold wind.
    Finally, she was ready. At least,
she supposed she was ready once the shadows stopped their constant
poking and prodding at her clothes, and began instead to escort her
towards the door. Isa was getting used being pushed or pulled from
all directions by that time, however, so she went willingly when
they prodded her out the door once more. This time, much to her
relief, the halls were just a bit brighter. Someone or something
had lit torches and placed them along the walls. With light now to
walk by, she moved somewhat confidently.
    Until she walked right into the
prince.
    His shout of surprise was the
first real sound Isa had heard since leaving her horse. It mingled
in the air with her own startled cry as they both fell back a step.
Immediately, Isa half knelt, half fell into a curtsy. As much as
she had meant to be brave, a deep fear quickly wriggled into her
heart. She would soon find out what awful plans he had for her, and
she suddenly didn’t know if she could bear it.
    “ Your Highness!” her voice
quivered strangely. “Please forgive me.”
    It took the prince a moment to
recover his own voice, it seemed, but when he spoke, it was
surprisingly rich, rude as his words were.
    “ Are you Isabelle?”
    “ Yes, Sire.” As if any other sane
woman would sneak into the cursed citadel. An awkward silence
ensued as she continued to kneel and he stood over her. Finally, he
said,
    “ Why didn’t you arrive during the
daytime hours?”
    “ I beg your pardon?” Isa had to
keep herself from looking up in response to the strange
question.
    “ I told your father that you
needed to come during the day!” His voice was petulant.
    Isa had nothing to say to
this.
    “ He didn’t tell you, did he?” the
prince asked.
    Isa shook her head.
    “ You came on your own, didn’t
you?”
    For fear of giving away her
family’s plans, Isa remained quiet. He was here, but if he found
out her family had planned to flee, he might kill her father
anyway. She wouldn’t put such treachery past him.
    There was another long pause
before the prince cleared his throat, his voice a little less
sullen when he spoke again. “Isabelle, you may stand when I speak
with you from now on. I dislike speaking to the floor.”
    As she stood, Isabelle dared to
look at her prince for the first time in fourteen years. She nearly
gasped aloud. He was nothing like she’d expected. His hands were
hidden in the folds of his clothes, but the part of his chin that
showed was thin and pale, nearly chalky. Most of his face was
hidden by the hooded cloak he wore, but even through the thick
fabric, she could see his nearly emaciated frame. His back was so
bent that he was nearly the same height that she was.
    In fact, he stood and moved the
way her grandfather had done before he died. But her grandfather
had suffered from severe joint