Ugly Girl Read online

  He made to pick me up again as Gwen ran past us, but I backed away, leaning on Lane. “Go on. I should stay with the animals in case one of them gets spooked.”

  A shadow of hesitance was swept up in a look that mutated into total fear on Bastien’s usually stoic and self-assured features. He held onto my hand with a firm command to his grip. “No. I’m your guard. I won’t be apart from you.”

  Lane’s arms around me gently pried us apart. “I’ve got her, Bastien. She’s right. We won’t be able to keep the animals quiet without her once the troops come.”

  “But… I don’t… This isn’t how it should be!” He let out a frustrated growl. “Don’t let go of her for any reason. Got it, Lane? I mean it. Her hand doesn’t leave yours until I take it away from you. No one else.”

  Lane lowered her voice. “You’re going to have to ask a whole lot nicer for her hand one day when you finally grow some manners. I’ve been looking after Rosie my whole life. Now, go!” Lane harrumphed as she turned and helped me over to the animals. “That boy’s getting on my last nerve. Telling me to check on Reyn when you’re in pain. Telling me how to look after my own daughter.”

  I let Lane get her anger out, knowing she usually simmered down shortly after she vented. My teeth ground together at being treated like the broken wheel on the wagon. That was way worse than being treated like the ugly girl growing up. I’d at least been useful, which was an attribute I clung to.

  Lot came out to help Lane, but I didn’t even have the sanity to let the butterflies rise up in my belly at the sight of his princely features. I held my head high even though I was sopping wet, injured and ready to fall over. Lane toned down her mothering and helped me to sit down between Marquis and Damond’s gray horse. They were pressed tight together, so I floated between their backs, cradled comfortably in the warm nest of bodies they provided. “Alright, kids,” I said to the animals as Abraham Lincoln ambled to me and plopped his muzzle across my hip. “I need you to keep very still. Stay absolutely silent until I say so. Those are some super bad guys coming our way, and if we’re careful, they’ll keep right on walking.”

  Gwen’s horse whined to me that Gwen was too far away. “I know, sweetie, but even if the soldiers come close to her, you can’t make a noise, otherwise they’ll find her and take her away. Everyone just close your eyes and take a little rest. You all rode so long today.” I looked up at Lane, who was sweating as she held my hand. “Do animals sleep here?”

  “Most of them, yes. Just like animals where we’re from.”

  Henri had his hands on two horses, sitting next to his son, who was comforting two more. They had the same longer nose and angular features to them. Damond stroked his horse’s flank, his eyes focused on the army that marched ever onward. He couldn’t have been much more than eighteen, but there was a sad determination in his eyes that made him appear far older. “Aunt Lane, dip your head lower. I’m worried they’ll see you.”

  My head whipped from Damond to Lane, my eyes wide and my body suddenly feeling a jolt of renewed vigor that I knew wouldn’t last long. “Aunt Lane? She’s your aunt? You’re her nephew?”

  “Yes. I haven’t actually met her until this trip, but yes. My mother Tyronoe was her sister.” I saw Damond clearly, his fair complexion made to look even whiter next to his jet black short hair. It was styled on top in a swoop that moved backwards over his head like a frozen wave with too much product in it. “You didn’t know that?”

  “But does that make us cousins? Like, real blood relation cousins?”

  Damond cast me a look of disbelief mired with amusement. “Well, yeah. I thought you knew that. Duke Henri is my father, your uncle by marriage.”

  The best kind of shock ripped through me, making it feel like Halloween and Christmas all rolled into one. My head whipped toward Henri, my mouth falling open. “Henri? Are you really my uncle?”

  Henri’s voice came back to me with the hint of affection to it. “Yes, Rosalie. I didn’t know if Lane had told you, so I was waiting until we had a moment to more properly introduce myself.”

  My smile beamed at Damond, and I leaned over Abraham Lincoln to give him a high five, which he didn’t understand the mechanics of. “Dude, that’s awesome! You and Gwen are my cousins? After this Jewels of Good Fortune nonsense, we’re going to have so much fun together! I always wanted a cousin. Now I’ve got two, plus Roland, plus an uncle? Today rocks!”

  Damond chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. He had a pencil eraser-sized birthmark next to his right eye that moved upwards with his grin. His face didn’t look practiced with genuine smiling, so I made a mental note to remedy that during our time together. “I’ve never known anyone who survived the étouffer poppies and had such enthusiasm for the day less than an hour later.”

  Henri cleared his throat. “Gwen is adopted, so she’s not your actual cousin.”

  My nose scrunched, confused at the left-field information. “Oh. Well, in my world, there aren’t those divisions. If you’re adopted, you’re legally family. So to me, Gwen would be just as much my cousin as Damond and Roland.”

  Henri’s eyebrows rose and fell in a beat. “What a nice system. Morgan le Fae doesn’t recognize adopted children as able to sit on the throne, which negated the whole reason for adoption in the first place.”

  His words tasted sour in my mouth. I mean, it sounded like he only adopted her so he’d have a female heir to sit on the throne someday. I remembered that the society was run on a matriarchal system, so I guessed he’d been desperate to have a daughter, but his workaround to that hadn’t been honored. Still, it was Gwen’s life, and to hear him speak so dismissively about his own daughter felt… wrong. I was glad Gwen was across the way, hiding with the others.

  I didn’t know if I was allowed to speak my feelings on the matter, since Lane remained mute, so I tried to switch the conversation to a lighter note. “Well, I always wanted a cousin, and now I have three. Tell me about growing up here, Damond. You take care of the horses? That’s super cool. What about Gwen? What sort of magical awesomeness does she get up to?”

  Damond looked like he’d never been paid such focused attention before in his life, and didn’t know what to do with it. “Um, well, yes. I keep the horses. Wish I could understand them like you can. That would make everything easier for me. Gwen gardens a lot. She’s trying to cross pollinate a mandrake with a ginger root to see if it can enhance the healing properties.”

  “Is that even possible?” Lot asked from his spot at the end of the row. He scooted in next to me atop the horses when Marquis’ head craned around to be nearer him. They were sweet together. It was clear Marquis loved Lot.

  “That’s super amazing that Gwen is so creatively minded. You both sound wicked smart.”

  Damond chuckled at my phrasing. “Hopefully less wicked and more smart. What else do you want to know?”

  “Um, you’re a prince? Maybe start with that. Seriously, you don’t know how to market your awesomeness. Is your castle huge?”

  I could hear the amusement in Damond’s voice. “Well, not compared to yours, but yes, it’s sizeable. Around the footage of Lot’s family’s, I’d imagine.”

  “Mine? What are you talking about? Lane and I have a two-bedroom apartment. It’s cozy.” That was my delicate way of saying it was very small.

  “Thanks for that, baby. She’s being nice. Our place is tiny. Your bedroom is probably bigger than our whole flat, Damond.” Lane spoke with her head down, crouched next to Henri at the horses’ rears. There was a healthy foot of distance between them, and I could tell by the stiffness in her shoulders that even that amount of space from Henri wasn’t enough for her.

  “I’m sure you’re joking,” Damond said, though I could tell by his furtive looks that darted between Lane and me that he wasn’t certain at all.

  “Laney?” I asked, keeping my tone light. I’d been so caught up in how all of this was affecting me that I hadn’t checked in on how all the drama was crashing down
on her. I would rather have asked her in private, but we hadn’t been granted much time alone. I was just meeting my cousin, but she was just finding out that she had a nephew and a niece she hadn’t known about. And just like that, they were already grown. “You alright, baby girl?”

  “That’s exactly what I am, sweetness.” The pinched flavor of her reply told me she wasn’t okay, but was waiting until she had a down moment so she could break down without an audience.

  “How’s your magic holding up? Are you having trouble finding your way back to your mojo?”

  Lane pfft’d, as if using magic was child’s play to her. “Give me another week in Avalon, and you don’t wanna know the damage I’ll be able to do with my magic back on tap and fully restored.”

  “If only invisibility was one of the tricks in your arsenal. Then we could sneak into men’s bedrooms.” I shrugged at Lot’s chagrinned noise of astonishment and uncertain chortle. “What? It’s so we can steal their cell phones and tie their shoelaces in knots. What were you thinking?” I shook my head to scold him in mock astonishment. “Oh, you’re sick. Just disgusting, Lot. I’m a lady.”

  “My apologies, Lady Rosalie.” My bravado was always worst when I was sickest, and my jokes at their stupidest. A wave of utter fatigue swept over me, and I leaned more securely into the two horses I was sandwiched between. Lot lowered his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t get off the horse sooner or ride faster. You were so still; I had no idea the spiders were already taunting you while we were still riding. How did you do that? And I should’ve warned you about the étouffer poppies. I didn’t realize you didn’t know about them.”

  I shifted Abraham Lincoln to sit on my lap to make sure he wasn’t seen. Lot shifted closer to me. “It all worked out. But yeah, assume I know nothing about your world. A heads-up the next time I’m about to be poisoned would be helpful.” I yawned. “At what point are we breaking for the night? I know it’s go, go, go, but I don’t think I’m up for much more tonight.”

  “How do you mean?” Henri asked from his place further down the line near Lane.

  “Sleeping. I know you all don’t need it, but I do.”

  Lane’s voice was quiet. “Yeah, I meant to mention that back at the whole meet and greet.”

  “Why does she sleep?” Henri asked with an accusation directed at Lane. “She’s not a Brownie who’s promised herself to a family; she’s Fae. Plus, she’s her mother’s daughter, and Morgan’s loaded with magic. The apple can’t have fallen that far from the tree.”

  “She talks to animals, Henri. That actually requires a lot of magic. She’s been like that since she was a baby. Always slept through the night so she could go play with her furry friends. Also, the whole Compass thing plays a part in it.”

  “Well, she must stop all that now! We can’t be taking three or four hours to stop so she can lie down. The longer we can move through Avalon without Morgan knowing she’s here, the safer we’ll all be.”

  I shot Henri a look of confusion. “Three or four hours? Try eight, pal.”

  “Eight?” Henri was scandalized. “No, no. Rosalie, you must stop at once.”

  “Oh, you want her to stop talking to animals now? Convenient timing. We need her to keep the animals calm when the soldiers get here.” Lane wasn’t usually so irritable, but I could tell she didn’t like conversing with Henri at all.

  “Enough. Do as I say, Rosalie. Elaine, you have no idea what you’re doing with her, clearly. If she’s sleeping that much, you’re in over your head. The only reason she would need to sleep that much is if her magic was broken, like Reyn. If you’ve allowed her to carry on like this, you have no idea what you’re doing. I can take over parenting the child, since you clearly don’t seem up for the task.”

  I balked, but didn’t bother with a reply. I didn’t much like being bossed by people I’d known for a day. I super didn’t care for people talking down to Lane.

  Lane usually took it in stride when people gave her parenting advice, but she had zero tolerance for Henri. “You know, you were always like this. Even to Tyronoe, may she rest. You think you know best, so you bulldoze everyone else and tell us all how you think it should be done, forgetting the fact that your plan makes no sense!”

  I could tell Henri wasn’t used to being so openly defied. It was like he and Lane were just waiting for the right moment to unleash their hidden sneers they’d reserved just for each other. “I’ll have you know that my children have never slept a wink beyond their first two years of life, because I know how to manage my household. The magic in Rosalie is pure. It shouldn’t need recharging that often. You’re running the child ragged.”

  “She’s my child, and you know nothing about what she needs.”

  Henri bristled, his voice dropping to a low stream of perpetual judgment. “I know that as much as you wished for a baby of your own, Master Kerdik never gave you one. Your womb is closed. That’s why Morgan let you be her nursemaid when you lived here. Stealing Rosalie was wise for the kingdom, but it also served your own agenda of getting a child. That doesn’t mean you know what you’re doing. Rosalie calls you by your first name.”

  “Okay, that’s enough!” I turned to glare at Henri. “For starters, don’t talk about Lane’s womb like you know anything about owning a uterus, because you don’t. And that’s a real low blow, making her feel bad for not being able to have children. Secondly, she has a child, and it’s me. I’m her daughter. She gave up having a life, having money, having anything to raise me, not to mention forfeiting a ninth of a kingdom and a castle and all that. Thirdly, I don’t always talk to animals, but they’re always talking to me. It’s not Lane running me ragged. It’s me finding friends in a different way than you do. As much as you think you know what it’s like in Common, you don’t, so back up off her, man. Lane’s my best friend, and I won’t let you run her down like that.”

  Henri was quiet a few seconds, and when he answered, I could tell he was well adept at ruling nations with his iron voice. “Young lady, you’ll speak to me more respectfully.”

  “Earn my respect, then. It’s lazy and entitled to just expect reverence because of your age or your title. I don’t respect anyone who talks down to Lane like that. And doing that in front of your own kid? Bringing up her ‘closed womb’? You’re verbally punching her in the face after having not seen your sister-in-law in over two decades. I gotta say, not having an uncle isn’t something I missed out on, if you’re any indication of the fun.”

  Henri spoke through gritted teeth. “Elaine, I suggest you take a switch to your charge at the very first opportunity. She needs to be taught some respect.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with his switch, but Lot leaned over and pressed his finger to my lips, sealing the insults inside where they simmered along with my anger. “Quiet, now. You’ve said enough.”

  Lane let out a slow chuckle that started to sound evil after a few beats. “Oh, Henri. Parenting advice from you? Really? Why don’t we have a nice, long conversation about Draper. Then you can tell me the wisdom of your ways.”

  Henri’s hand swooshed through the air. The sight was so strange, it didn’t register that he was about to slap her until I heard the smack that whipped her chin to the side. I gasped at her quiet yelp, horrified. “Apologize,” Henri demanded, sounding like a superior ruler in desperate need of some overthrowing.

  37

  Not Your Punching Bag

  Abraham Lincoln howled, and let loose a terrifying growl that told everyone he was very much undomesticated, no matter how much we wanted to fool ourselves otherwise. He loved Lane, and didn’t take kindly to her being slapped around.

  Anger. White hot fury rode through me, yelling at my weakened body to get up and rip, tear, kill. Lot saw my red rage rising, and moved over to position himself between me and Henri, the warning in his eyes telling me to back down. When I lunged forward clumsily, he intercepted, pressing me down to lay in between the horses. I struggled against Lot for
the space to get up, but he held me in place with embarrassing ease. “No, Rosie. You don’t go against Duke Henri. Stay put.” The betrayal I felt at Lot’s restraint resonated deep inside me, severing off any attraction I might have felt towards him. “You have to stay hidden!” he protested, pinning me to the cool grass next to Marquis.

  “Listen good, you waste of a crown. You’ll watch your back around me,” I spat to Henri the second Lot’s finger moved from my mouth. “Lane? Honey, you alright?”

  “I’m fine, baby.” I could tell she was crying. I hated it when she cried. “Don’t listen to this, okay? It’s not about you. It’s old drama we haven’t worked through yet. You’re perfect just how you are. Don’t stop talking to the animals. It’s good for you, and it makes you happy. We’ll find time for you to sleep. We’ll keep hidden, no problem.” She sniffled, and I hated Henri more than I hated anyone else in that moment. I’d gotten a brand new uncle and turned him against me and Lane in the span of a conversation. Miss Personality, at it again.

  I struggled against Lot to get to her, but Lot was too strong, and I was too weak. Marquis remained still, though he voiced to me his distress that his master and his friend were fighting right next to him. Lot remained over me, keeping me pinned as his eyes searched in the distance for the army. “I thought you were one of the good guys,” I whispered, angry at Lot for keeping me in such a submissive position when he should have been defending Lane’s honor.

  “I am,” Lot promised. “I didn’t warn you about the étouffer flowers because I thought you knew. You told me to warn you about things that were different in our worlds. People don’t go against the Dukes. Henri? Ferdinand the Grave? And Duke Isengrim back when he was still alive? The dukes rule what’s left after Morgan wiped out the other provinces. You can’t change Duke Henri, but you can surely die trying. As angry as you are at me now, I’ll risk it if it keeps you alive.”

  I wanted to argue with him, but he was so sincere, and his eyes were tinged with sadness. I gave him one more fruitless struggle before collapsing in a pose of surrender I would never have done on my own. “Laney? I’m here. I’m right here for you.” I tried to keep the fear out of my voice and spoke only to her. “I got a scholarship because of you, because you push me the right amount. I was on track to finish the semester strong, too. I don’t have any cavities, I have a good job, good insurance, can change a tire, and was happy back home because you let me be who I am. All that’s because of you. Don’t you let someone who hasn’t seen you in twenty-one years make you question how good you are at being my mom. I know who you are. Don’t let some jaggoff make you question that.” The insecurity I tried never to give a voice to crept in. I’d often pictured my life if Lane hadn’t stepped in and claimed me after my birth mother fake died. I would’ve ended up in foster care, and who knows where I’d be then. There’s something about being adopted that makes you extra grateful, and therefore I didn’t cause as much teen havoc as the other girls in my grade growing up. I knew how lucky I was. “You didn’t make a mistake, taking me.”