Beautiful Beasts Read online

  The music began, a soft crooning that both soothed the nerves and enlivened one’s pulse. It was a fast but gentle song, and they swayed and spun to it as she willed, setting the tone for the other dancers.

  “Your father was right,” he said as she brought them to a brief pause and allowed him to dip her. He did so, and continued once he brought her back up to her feet. “You are a marvelous dancer.”

  She allowed a smile at the flattery. It was hardly up to her usual standard, being both blunt and quickly delivered, but was no less charming for it. Now to find out what he wanted. Merchants always wanted something. So did lesser nobles for that matter, so he was in good company. Anyone who started a conversation with a compliment was only acting to lower her defenses. Yet, as they continued to dance, the expected request, subtle or blunt, never came.

  “I heard you were admitted into the Academy early. That they actually sent tutors to you as a child.”

  She inclined her head. “You heard correctly, Mister Gage.”

  Usually a noblewoman was forbidden from the academy until after her twentieth year. Most women of impure blood fell at puberty, but any could fall whilst their bodies continued to reach adulthood throughout their teenaged years. A woman was not truly a woman until she was twenty, and thus had proven her humanity, even among the diamond souled. Loretta’s pedigree and keen mind had gained her entrance to the academy only a year after her menses had begun and she had taken full advantage of her early education.

  “Of the many feats attributed to you today, I find that by far the most impressive.” She had him spin her about and then bring her in close. “For whatever the opinion of a humble merchantman might be worth.”

  “Considerably more than it used to be, after tonight,” she replied, pulling away with a graceful sweep. What did he want?

  “I have always found that those with the greatest ambition climb the highest,” he said.

  “Have you now?”

  “Oh yes.” He pressed their palms together and began a slow circle. “Take yourself for example. You saw an opportunity for personal advancement and now have an advantage over every one of your peers. In the years they shall spend pursuing their education, you will be arranging the board upon which they must place their pieces.”

  “So, the nobility is playing games, is it?” She arched an eyebrow.

  He chuckled. “Everyone is playing a game.”

  “Even you?”

  “Especially me. I am nowhere near your equal, but, in this, I think we may be more alike than we are unalike.” He met her gaze for the briefest of moments. “I too am ambitious.”

  Clearly. “And what makes you think that I am so like you?”

  He gave her a look that suggested she had asked him a question a small child should be capable of answering. “Most young nobles do not so eagerly pursue academia or advancement. Certainly not a future duquesa.”

  “Perhaps I simply enjoy studying.” She had him twirl her about.

  “I am certain that you do, my lady. You graduated third in your class despite your peers’ advantage in maturity and age.” The tempo changed and their pace picked up, their movements becoming fluid. “But studying for its own sake? No, you are applying what you learned as only a woman in your position can.”

  Her smile grew forced for a moment, and then relaxed, the spike of fear that had shot through her bleeding over into excitement. He knew what she was up to, but there was little he could do to stop her rise to power. Indeed, why would he want to? Her advancement would be his own.

  Was that his endgame then? Was he allowing her to know that he was an ally?

  Before she could ask, the music stopped and a shadow fell over them. She looked up to find none other than Adriano Robles towering over them. Horseback really did not do justice to his height. Nor had his hunting clothes flattered his muscular form so well as his formal coat and trousers.

  He completely ignored Gage, pale eyes focusing solely upon her face where they belonged. She would have to train him not to snub their potential allies once they were wed.

  “My lady, may I have the honor of your next dance?” he asked, extending his hand.

  Deliberately, she turned away from him—it would not do to seem too eager—and bid Gage a good evening.

  The music started once more, and she took her rightful place in Robles’s strong arms. She could feel the power in his hands as they fell upon her, ready to catch her should she fall. Unnecessary as it was—the future Duquesa Loretta Maradona did not fall, especially not during a dance—it was still a luxurious reassurance. Soon, the power in those hands, as well as the man they belonged to with an impressive network of allies and dowry, would be hers.

  Unlike her dance with Gage, Robles did not speak. There was no need. The intensity of his gaze and movements as she guided him across the dance floor, said far more than words ever could. This was how a husband was meant to behave. He did not offer her flattery or attempt to curry favor, he simply let his actions convey his desire while his silence demonstrated his acquiescence to her rule.

  The music stopped but neither of them let go, taking the dance up again as soon as the next song began. Again. And again. They may have danced that way all night had a tiny beast in a serving gown with green and yellow hair and solid black eyes scurried up as their last dance came to a close.

  Loretta stiffened in Robles’s arms, mentally lashing out with her anima. Her spiritual force struck in an invisible thrust straight into the beast, bringing it up short. It let out a small gasp as Loretta’s mental assault neatly disconnected the creature from both its keeper and its powers, rendering it the next best thing to harmless. It stood in place, mouth slightly agape, shivering with the shock of its sudden loss.

  Robles positioned himself between her and the beast, moving with the same quiet initiative he had shown all night. Protecting her as a husband was meant to.

  Immediately, she felt foolish. This was her home and the beast no more than a servant’s tool. Loretta Maradona did not need the protection of anyone here, where she was at her most powerful.

  Willing her cheeks not to redden, she stepped around Robles, putting a hand to his arm and withdrawing her anima from the beast’s spirit. It let out a small gasp of relief

  “Yes?” she asked the serving creature before her.

  It did not answer or look up at her, save to hold up a small piece of embellished parchment with a single initial over her family’s crest. “F” for Fiammetta Maradona, the duquesa. Her mother.

  She turned to Robles. “Forgive me, sir. Mother has summoned me.”

  That smile was back on his face, his eyes filling with mischief that once again suggested he’d known her response before she’d given it. Admittedly, this time that wasn’t difficult. One did not refuse an invitation from the duquesa. Not even her eldest daughter.

  “I shall see you soon,” Robles said. His smile turned into a full-blown grin.

  She curtsied as he bowed and hurried to find her mother. Fiammetta Maradona was not difficult to find. All one had to do was find the greatest cluster of people; her mother would be in the center of it. Sycophants and peers alike parted for Loretta as she approached.

  Seated in the corner of the ballroom, the duquesa had effortlessly created an impromptu court. To all appearances, this was simply a woman enjoying the company of her friends, the obvious top of the hierarchy, yet no less congenial for it. If anything, her obvious power somehow allowed her to infect the group with joviality. If Loretta did not know her mother better, she would not have noticed the calculating look in her laughing eyes.

  This was where the future of Freutsche would be decided, amidst the most powerful women of the nation, laughing over tea while their daughters danced and their husbands and sons entertained. One of the condesas had her eldest daughter with her, and the young lady gazed at the most influential women in the queendom with rapt attention. Her eyes lingered especially on the duquesa,
who subtly but surely held firm the reigns and directed the conversation along that delicate line of enjoyment and politics.

  This was a skill that Loretta had yet to master. Athletics and academia were hardly a challenge, but this ability to influence the emotions of others and control an entire crowd of individuals who were used to always being under their own command? This was something she would need more years of practice and her mother’s guidance to learn.

  “Ladies, ladies,” her mother said as Loretta came to her side. “I beg your forgiveness but I must spend some time with my firstborn daughter.” She placed a hand above her heart, subtly drawing attention to the fortune in jewels decorating her neckline and the power they represented. Wealth and beauty alike, casually on display. “I have not yet had an opportunity to congratulate her on a victorious hunt this morning and simply must be regaled. Come Loretta, I believe a walk through the garden shall do us both some good.”

  They spoke about nothing of consequence as they walked, such as who was wearing what and bits of gossip anyone listening would already know. It wasn’t until they had stepped into the cool night air and were far enough away from the festivities that they could have heard anyone following that her mother’s smile faded.

  “Your sister’s absence has been noticed,” she said.

  Loretta’s heart sank. She had known that her mother had no intention of congratulating her. It hadn’t stopped Loretta from hoping that the duquesa might have some kind words. Her father would have. His love and pride in her were unconditional. Her mother did not have that luxury. Before she could allow herself to feel wounded, Loretta reminded herself of this. Her mother did love her and was proud of her. There was simply so much more that she had to contend with than her father, a mere man, could manage.

  “It has?”

  “Yes,” her mother said. “It has.”

  “It is no doing of mine, if that is what you are asking,” Loretta said, fighting back a scowl.

  The duquesa stopped to admire a flower. The light of the full moon turned its golden petals into molten silver. “Truly? There was not a wager between the two of you this morning?”

  Loretta swallowed. Surely Sirena hadn’t gone through with it. They had not seen each other since the hunt. It was possible that her little sister had already shorn her beautiful hair before Loretta could tell her that the wager was off.

  “We did,” she admitted. “But I had no intention of making her uphold her end. It was made in fun, not spite.”

  “Fun for you perhaps,” the duquesa said, pulling away from the flower to continue on through the garden. “Less so for your sister. She is proud.”

  “Then she should learn some humility until she can back up her pride with competence,” Loretta said, more bitterly than she’d intended. She took a deep breath. “She is second born, there is no need for her to strive as she does. The weight of your title shall never fall upon her shoulders.”

  The duquesa stopped walking and turned to face her, a smile on her lips. Not the smile of a ruler but the smile of a mother. “You take on much so that she does not have to.”

  Loretta jerked her head in a nod. “She must know I love her. That I do all this for her. So that she can be as selective as she wants for a husband and marry for love. So that she can enjoy the fullest privilege of the Maradona name. Sirena shall want for nothing so long as I live.”

  Her mother’s hand came to rest upon her cheek. “Loretta. What she wants is the one thing you are not allowing her.”

  Loretta’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What is that?”

  “To be out of your shadow.” She took a long breath and pulled her hand away. “Now, let us return to the party. You are to find your sister and make peace. It makes us look weak when she refuses to attend a ball we are hosting. Especially when everyone knows that she is perfectly healthy. I cannot tell you how many people have asked after her, and I am growing tired of giving excuses.”

  “I understand, Mother.”

  She intended to seek her sister out, if for no other reason than to make certain that she had done nothing drastic to her beautiful hair, but halfway to her sister’s chamber another serving beast approached with a letter. It was so similar to her mother’s that, at first, she thought the duquesa was summoning her back. A quick inspection of the note revealed that it was decorated with an A, not an F, over the Robles family crest. The note was folded over and contained an actual message. When she opened it up, a small flower fell out into her hand.

  She smiled. Adriano Robles had not been idle in his promise that they would see each other soon. The letter was penned in his own masculine calligraphy, and it invited her to join him for a glass of wine at the edge of her family’s northernmost vineyard and hinted that he had a surprise for her. She thought about making him wait, but no. She could make peace with her sister in the morning. This was an opportunity with her future husband that she simply could not pass up. Her mother was right. If she kept protecting Sirena, the girl would never grow into womanhood. Time to let Sirena out of her shadow.

  Loretta dismissed the beast, wishing that Robles had thought to send a human servant instead, then dismissed the wish as well. She could hardly begrudge him the convenience of the much faster beasts, especially if he was acting quickly to pull this surprise together. They could talk about convenience and propriety later. For now, she had a romantic rendezvous that would secure the power and purity of Maradona for both her reign and that of the next generation.

  ~ ~ ~

  The vineyard was silent as she made her way between the rows of grapes. She’d heard stories of wild queens and princesses in her youth that traversed the wilderness, back before man’s folly had created the beasts and forever transformed humanity’s anima. Back then, all men and women were pure of spirit, and those who were the purest commanded power to dwarf any modern wizard. Loretta felt just like one of those wild princesses in her celestial gown beneath the night sky and surrounded by nature made tame. Enough so that she preemptively forgave Robles for whatever mistakes his haste to set up this romantic meeting would undoubtedly cause.

  When she emerged from the vines, however, she was alone with none but the moon for company. She resisted the urge to frown. Perhaps this was part of the surprise? A more cynical part of her mind belatedly suspected a trap. If so, it was far too late to do anything about it, and, she reminded herself, none would dare touch her upon her own lands. She was not helpless. No beast’s magic could touch her, nor the command of any man. Besides, she had a hand sized, single shot derringer strapped to her garter belt beneath her skirt. The firearm was small enough that it probably wouldn’t kill an assailant, but it didn’t need to. The gunshot would bring guards and her family’s beasts running. She was perfectly safe.

  “Adriano?” she called softly, peering down another path between the vines.

  “Not exactly,” Sirena said, stepping out from the path behind her. Her gown was more daring than anything Loretta would have worn, with a plunging neckline that displayed more of her sister’s décolletage than it covered. In the moonlight, Loretta could not tell its color. Sirena’s hair was, thankfully, uncut and hung about her shoulders like a dark cape.

  “Sirena?” Loretta let out a sigh and looked down at the letter clutched in her hand, then held it up before her. “This was a mean trick. If you’d wanted to talk in private there are other ways.”

  Sirena offered her an apologetic smile tinged with triumph. “That isn’t the trick.”

  Something struck Loretta from behind, driving her to her knees. The sound of cloth ripping rent the air as her feet caught on her skirts and tore a ragged hole in the side. Cool grass poked against her stockinged legs. Loretta reached for her derringer, but the same force that had struck her before suddenly sent her tumbling. Sirena was suddenly upon her. Loretta lashed out in panic, managing to strike her sister across the face, driving Sirena back. Loretta realized too late that her sister now held the derring
er in one hand, and her own firearm in the other.

  “What is this?” Loretta spat, struggling upright, only to be forced back down again by an unseen pressure, trapping her against the lawn. “An assassination? From you?”

  Sirena shrugged. “Not exactly. But I really don’t have to explain anything to you. If you live long enough, you’ll figure it out.”

  Loretta pressed back against the invisible weight, forcing herself to her feet. Confusion, hurt, and fear were all brushed aside as rage rose up inside of her, setting her fists to shaking. She clenched her teeth. It took the entirety of her willpower to remain standing.

  “She continues to impress me,” said a familiar voice. “She is more of a fighter than I gave her credit for.”

  A moment later Lorenz Gage stepped into her field of vision. He held one hand aloft and empty, fingers spread out as if to catch something while the other hand was kept tight to his chest, clutching something small.

  “Will you get on with it before she breaks your hold,” Sirena snapped.

  Gage scoffed. “She’ll break nothing, but as you wish, my lady.”

  He pulled his fingers together, and the force pressing Loretta down redoubled. For a moment, Loretta braced her legs and was able to resist it. Then her foot slipped, her knee hit the ground, and then she fell forward, crashing for a third time into the ground. Gage was a wizard. That was the only explanation she could think of for him to possess this kind of power. But a merchant wizard? One who had kept his magic a secret? Why would anyone with that kind of power hide it away and choose such a lowly profession instead of aspiring to the loftier heights offered by the wizard’s guild?

  “I’m sorry, my lady,” Gage said to her. “You are capable, but as I said before, the game is won by the one with the most ambition. And, in your family, that is not you.”

  The thing in his hand began to glow brighter and brighter until its light consumed her. Pain wracked her body and the world was consumed by fire.