Beauty's Cursed Sleep Read online

  Remus moved to Leah’s other side, hemming Rory in with his protection, and shielding his family as best he could. The vein in the Chancellor’s forehead was beginning to throb noticeably, which meant that Remus needed to intervene before his older brother debased himself with a fruitless argument. “‘Us’ isn’t decided by you. That’s why there’s a council.”

  As if expecting this, the Baron reached into his cloak and pulled out a piece of parchment that had thirteen signatures on it scribbled under the demand for the Chancellor’s resignation. “That’s a majority decision. If your daughter doesn’t perform to our standards, your bloodline has finally run dry, and is of little use to us. You’ll still serve on the council, of course, but not as its leader.”

  The Chancellor snatched the parchment without looking at it, his eyes fixed only on the Baron. “There is no vote that can officially take place without me as the head presiding. This piece of rubbish means nothing to me, my family, or the community at large. Yet another reason you will never sit in my seat. You pay no attention to the law, only your own agenda. How many names on this list did you buy?” Then, an inch from the Baron’s long nose, the Chancellor tore the parchment in two.

  Remus floated the document in the air, displaying the slow ripping as the pieces of all the Baron’s cajoling and strong-arming were littered onto the floor like confetti, celebrating the Baron’s job poorly done.

  Though the Baron was livid at the technicality being called out, he maintained his prideful posture. “Be that as it may, Lord Bartholomew is head of the Board of Education. After careful consideration, he’s ruled that if Aurora failed her exam this time around, she would be reassigned to a new tutor.” He snapped his fingers at Tyren, and then turned his nose up at Rory. “You may have been too good to accept my son’s offer for marriage, but you’ll not say no to a proper tutor.”

  Rory stiffened. She’d detested Calvin since they’d been children, when he’d been too superior to get his hands dirty by playing in the mud with her. As he’d grown handsome enough to get away with being a prat, the other girls in their classes had fallen for his charms, but Rory wanted nothing to do with his hands that had no problem getting dirty now. His own ego led him to ask her out because of who her father was. Her family’s position of power and prestige was second only to the king’s. When she’d given Calvin a flat, unwavering no, his spoiled child syndrome came out, wanting what he couldn’t have simply because it was denied him.

  How she wanted to go public with her relationship with Cordray. They’d both never been happier. Still, for the sake of taking things slow so as not to scare him away with the throngs of people who would want interviews and to know every detail of his private life, they’d kept their relationship secret, spending most of their time together helping him move into his condo.

  Rory rolled her shoulders back, reclaiming some of the dignity that always felt stripped bare after her annual exams. “Calvin asking for my hand was far more horrifying for me than it was for you, Baron. You might be ashamed to have me as part of your family if I ever lost my mind and accepted, but trust me, your son’s childishness is far more an embarrassment to my family’s standards.”

  The Chancellor was livid with the Baron, who was always trying to play the long con. “I’ll decide who my daughter is alone with, and I haven’t given my approval that her tutor should change. As her parent, I have that right.”

  Rory stiffened, not liking being spoken of as if she was five, and unable to make decisions about with whom she wanted to be alone. She didn’t argue though, since she didn’t want to be within ten feet of Tyren, who looked ready to bark out orders at the slightest infraction. She shoved her hand in her pocket, running her fingers over the gray paperclip, hoping for its presence to steady her nerves.

  10

  A Failed Tutor

  “No, of course my job isn’t interfering with my studies,” Rory assured Tyren. “I’ve been studying. I know the material backwards and forwards; I just can’t actually perform any of the charms.”

  Remus folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall in the Chancellor’s mansion. He refused to sit, but also refused to leave his niece alone with anyone associated with the Baron.

  Benjamin stood at the door, studying the new tutor with veiled disdain. Tyren was aggressive and condescending, but Benjamin said nothing, only inching forward if Tyren came close to touching his charge.

  Tyren was in his forties, his bald head showing off the veins in his scalp that throbbed when he was frustrated. “You’re not pushing yourself. If you know the text, you should be able to perform the spells.”

  Tyren never sat, but towered over Rory’s chair in the parlor. The light mint-colored furniture was dainty, constructed of dark wood with vines and leaves carved into the legs. The subtle nod to nature was echoed onto the paintings of Avondale’s tallest mountains that hung in gold frames on the walls. The décor was courtesy of Rory’s mother, and Adam’s mother, as well, before she’d passed. The two women had an eye for detail, designing several rooms to suit her daughter’s pale complexion. Rory tried not to think about the tragedy that befell Adam’s parents over a decade ago, but made a mental note to call Adam that evening to check up on him.

  Rory sat like a china doll, her back rigid and her hands folded in her lap. “You’ve seen me try the charms. I’ve recited everything to you verbatim. Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing wrong? I mean, the Baron insinuated that Uncle Remus failed as a tutor because I couldn’t pass my exams.” Rory kept her voice light, as she’d seen her mother do at tea parties when the gossip would get out of hand. “Perhaps you’re a terrible tutor. I mean, me failing means that you’re failing, correct?”

  Remus smirked at his niece, sniggering at the politeness that was laced into her gall. “Tyren is far more educated than most, Rory. If he can’t help you, then perhaps he should go back to school.”

  “Yes, I think I’ll suggest some tutors for you to the Baron myself, Tyren. For your own good,” she simpered.

  Tyren’s ears were red, as they often were when he was trying to hold onto his temper during their lessons. The crimson wave swept across his bald head as he chewed on the more acerbic words he would never be allowed to spew at the Chancellor’s daughter. “Recite the incantations again.”

  Rory didn’t break eye contact with Tyren as she repeated not just the charm for object levitation, but the entire page of instructions that followed in the text. She’d read the book of spells enough times to know that it wasn’t academic smarts she was lacking. There were some things you couldn’t teach. She didn’t have the raw talent needed to pull off such things, and after three weeks of being grilled every night by Tyren after work, she was tired of beating around the bush. It was seriously cutting into her time with Cordray, who was waiting in the dining room, talking shop with her father, as he always did on evenings where her schedule was not her own.

  Once she recited the entire page of text for object levitation, she then moved onto the Latin translation that followed. The dead language so many had struggled with rolled off her tongue like honey. She didn’t look away, nor did she allow him to interject.

  It was when she moved onto the next spell that Tyren finally held up his hand. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

  Rory had worked late and rushed through dinner, all so she could get to these frustrating lessons. At least when Remus tutored her, they accomplished something. He would go over the origins of where the spell came from – who cast it quite by accident, and what great battles led to the discovery of a whole new spell. Remus had always been fascinated with the unearthing of new magic, and how the world changed because of its ripple effect. Rory had more knowledge than most accomplished magicians about such things, but she’d never succeeded in putting them into practice.

  After proving her knowledge, Rory finally held the control in the room, standing with her chin raised. “Apologize to Remus for the not-so-subtle digs on his abilities. My short
comings are not his fault – nor are they yours. This is who I am. I’ve accepted it, and so will the council.”

  Tyren looked over to Remus with disdain. “The council will never accept a Deadpulse. You’ll lose your right to vote, mark my words.”

  “If I do, then it’ll be widely known that you’ve lost your touch. You failed, Tyren.” She rolled her shoulders back, feeling liberated that she had the power to damn anyone with the verdict she’d had to face over and over again. “You let your people down by not getting me to be able to cast a simple spell. I mean, come on. Children can levitate these small, immobile objects.” She sounded confident and calculating, but she was simply vomiting all the things told to her over the years that she’d had to stomach.

  Tyren slammed his book shut. “I’ll not put up with your mouth. We’ll try this again tomorrow, but without your attitude.”

  “What attitude? I’m merely repeating the things your precious Baron has said to my face. Are you so sensitive that you can’t take criticism from your employer?” She turned her chin toward her uncle. “Remus, what is it your boss says to you?”

  Remus smirked at her. “You usually tell me that you love me.”

  “I do. You’re the vice president of the Johnstone Foundation because I trust you to be brilliant and capable.” She leaned forward, breaking her perfect posture to drive her point home. “Don’t worry, Tyren. You’ll get there one day. Until then, I’m sure working for the Baron is bliss on ice. I’m so, so happy for you, living your dream by tutoring a Deadpulse. It seems like a fitting use of your extensive, and no doubt expensive education.” She sighed when Tyren’s cheeks flamed an even deeper shade of red after Benjamin broke his stoic demeanor with a chuckle. “Oh, I hate to think what might happen if you failed. The Baron doesn’t do well with failures.”

  Tyren’s thick fingers were shaking as he moved forward to tower over her, every muscle poised to pounce.

  11

  Marrying Calvin

  Rory didn’t react when Tyren puffed out his chest and leaned forward to press his knuckles atop the back of her chair, because she knew Benjamin would be on top of it. Though Tyren hadn’t touched her, Benjamin cleared the gap between the two and shoved the muscular man backward. “Too close,” he warned without apology. “You’ll not forget your place. She’s the Chancellor’s daughter, and you’re her tutor.”

  Remus shoved Tyren’s books against his chest and held the door open to get rid of eighty percent of the tension in the room. When the door shut, he exhaled. “I nearly high-fived you when you threw in that bit about the Baron.”

  Rory smiled, but went back to her rigid posture. “Anyone implying you’re not the best there is out there is what sets me off in a blind rage.”

  Calvin stalked in, his walk its usual stilted, jerky gait, as if he moved with something perpetually lodged between his butt cheeks. His long nose and sharply angular features matched his father’s almost exactly. “I see you’ve managed to set Tyren off. That’s quite a gift. He’s usually unshakeable.”

  “I thought you’d gone home,” Rory said by way of a greeting. She took in his haughty eyes and coifed black hair with a grimace. He’d started using even more product than the usual stickiness that kept his hair immoveable. He was only an inch taller than her, but she felt like he was far, far shorter when he was frustrated.

  “I was waiting until your lessons were over to take you out.”

  Rory stood and stacked her books, which Benjamin took from her. “I’m afraid I’m unavailable. Thank you for the offer, though.”

  Calvin scoffed and glanced at Benjamin, who had twenty years on them both. “You’re not allowed to marry below your station. Bodyguards are far below us.”

  Benjamin’s jaw tightened, but Remus laughed. “Oh, wow. Benjamin’s older than I am. You know how particular the Chancellor is concerning who comes sniffing around his only daughter. Do you really think Benjamin would still be standing if he was trying to make a move on Rory? He held her when she was born.”

  Calvin tried to smooth over his misstep, recalling his highbrow manners. “Forgive me, but I couldn’t imagine any man being with you day in and day out and not falling head over heels for you, Roar. Your beauty is enough to make even those below our station entertain foolish ideas.”

  She detested the nickname Calvin had given her when they’d been kids. It had been a joke – that she’d been too quiet, so the name was akin to dubbing a large man “Tiny”. “Everyone’s beneath you, Calvin. I’m not sure why you’re here. Clearly I’m not as accomplished as you. Why don’t you ask out Serena? She’s a far better match. I’m sure the Baron would prefer her on your arm rather than me.”

  “You’re dismissed,” Calvin barked to Benjamin and Remus, neither of whom moved an inch. He huffed in exasperation when he realized his word wasn’t enough here. At his home, the servants scattered when they saw him coming. Here, he was somewhat of a joke, which made him more irritable than usual. “Walk with me.”

  “How about I walk you to the door on your way out?” Rory offered with a lightness in her tone that suggested all memory of him would cease the moment he exited the mansion.

  Calvin extended his elbow, as was customary when courting, but Rory didn’t take the bait. She kept a healthy three feet of space between them as they walked down the cobblestone hallway. The palace and Adam’s castle had mostly wood or marble flooring, and were decked with the most expensive rugs. Rory’s mother preferred the whimsy of shaved cobblestone on the main floor, and hardwood on the above floors.

  Calvin kept his chin raised while he spoke. “You haven’t been to the new gallery downtown, have you?”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t made the time. Is it nice?”

  “More than nice. It’s exquisite. I’ll take you there this weekend. Saturday morning at ten?”

  “I work late Friday nights, and have to study on Saturdays to prepare for the amazing new tutor your father arranged for me. Thank you, but no.” She knew no waffling would fly with Calvin. If he saw the tiniest hint of interest, he would never let up.

  Calvin’s superior chortle made Rory’s skin crawl. “Work? You’re too funny. You know you don’t need a job, right? We have several fortunes between the two of us.”

  “I love my job. Not everything in life is about money.” Rory shot him a controlled look, but a little of her exasperation shone through. “Calvin, you don’t like spending time with me. We have nothing in common. We don’t share the same ideals. Nothing that I am is anything you respect, other than my title. There’s no reason for you to keep coming by.”

  His shoulders hunched inward conspiratorially as they walked. He lowered his voice to keep his true wishes away from Remus and Benjamin. “Just think of it. The Baron’s son and the Chancellor’s daughter? We could do absolutely anything. The world won’t have seen a more powerful union before us. Even if Prince Henry takes a wife someday, there’s no eligible woman who has as much political weight to throw around as you do. Our mansion would be bigger, our votes would be weightier. All of it, more.” A note of deviousness sneaked into his words. “We could be more powerful than even our fathers.”

  Rory bristled, but tried to keep her sneer tucked away. “My father is the best thing that’s ever happened to the council. It’s fine that you don’t like your father; that’s to be expected. No one likes the Baron. But my household isn’t yours. I’m content being who I am, and my family likes that about me.”

  “But who you are is so much more than running a charity. Your time is running out, Roar. You’ll be twenty-five in three months.”

  She stopped walking, counting to three before speaking, to make sure she didn’t lose her temper. Her hand went into her pocket, her finger stroking the gray paperclip, which served to center her. “When I decide to marry, it won’t be with someone who assumes my passions are decidedly less.” She paused at the door and undid the latch. “I am not less, Calvin. And I’m also not so desperate as to settle for someone who a
ssumes I am.”

  Calvin stopped before crossing over the threshold, taking his black fur coat from the rack. “Know this: I am your only hope of staying on the council. Your father’s time in the sun is coming to an end. Soon his words won’t hold the weight they do now. Then where will you be? I could provide for you. I could guarantee you always have a vote, Deadpulse though you are. Look around! There is no other man lining up to court you. I’m literally your last chance at happiness.”

  Remus knew Rory could handle herself, but he’d endured enough of Calvin’s needling. He shoved Calvin out the door, posturing as the bully faltered on the stoop. “She just said she was happy, and that’s got nothing to do with you.”

  Remus slammed the door shut on Calvin’s indignant spluttering, leaning against it as he took in the heaviness that weighted his niece. Most people didn’t understand why a young woman of her status and wealth chose to work at a place that was fast-paced and occasionally high-stress on top of all her other responsibilities, but her parents, Remus and the staff got it. She was an utter failure at all things magic, but she’d found her niche in the humanitarian world. Instead of squashing that potential, her parents nurtured it, letting her be who she was without apology.

  “I’ll make sure Calvin leaves,” Benjamin offered. Before he exited, he paused next to his charge. “If you marry him, I’ll quit, and then I’ll turn all your clothes pink.”

  Rory chuckled, and then reached up to peck her guard’s cheek. “Well, then it’s settled. No matrimonial bliss for Calvin and me.”

  “Go be blissful with that Cordray guy. He appreciates you. Don’t settle for that sniveling weasel.” Benjamin had made his peace with Cordray, but still called him “that Cordray guy”, just in case things went south.

  “Thanks, Benjamin.” She watched him leave, holding a handful of gratitude in her heart for his devotion to her family that never ran dry.