Of Beauty and Beast

sign of a corrupt soul, of being not entirely human. But that clearly isn’t always the case. There is nothing hideous about Gem’s soul. The same might not be said for all his people—certainly not for the one who slaughtered my father—but for Gem, ugliness is superficial. Surely it could be the same with the people forced into the camp at the edge of the city. If a Monstrous can be so human, surely some of those Banished citizens of Yuan are more human still.

“It isn’t fair, I know,” I say. “But—”

“And why are these people cast out?” he asks. “Because they have scaled skin or are bigger than the other children?”

“I don’t know. It was all decided before I was born. But I do know this …” I drop my voice again. “Because of me … my … Some of the nobles worry that mutations might be catching, beginning to infect those who have always been immune. But if I can show them there’s a cure … or at least a way to slow the process …” I clear my throat.

It’s difficult to talk about this with Gem. He doesn’t realize how repulsive the Monstrous are to my people. He doesn’t think it odd that the Monstrous grow plants to impede mutation but use them only for babies born with scales covering their eyes, or in other rare cases where health is threatened. He seems to think his people are beautiful.

“That’s why I need this garden,” I say, tugging another chunk of grass from the earth and stuffing it into my pocket. “Why the city needs this garden.”

“They don’t need a garden. They need a queen.”

I blink in the direction of his voice. “What does that mean?”

“You have more power than you think. You could put a stop to this with a word.”

“I couldn’t.” I shiver at the thought. I can’t even convince Junjie to change the seating arrangement in the great hall so that I don’t have to eat on a pedestal at the center of all the gossip.

“Division makes a people weak,” he says. “My chief would never allow this.”

“You don’t understand. I’m queen, but I’m not—”

“Excuses.” He grunts as he struggles to stand.

“It’s not an excuse,” I say, not sure whether to be offended or hurt.

“I’m tainted. Not as badly as those who are banished, but the whole people still won’t listen to me. They’ll think—”

“It doesn’t matter what they think.” The sound of his hoe being flung onto the dirt makes me flinch. “It only matters that they do what—”

“Move away from the queen!” The shout comes from the edge of the field, making me flinch again. Bo. I didn’t know he was here. He wasn’t with the other soldiers when they arrived with Gem.

But he’s been doing this lately, materializing wherever I happen to be. He says it’s because his father asked him to keep a “special eye” on me.

A special eye. I don’t like the sound of it.

“It’s all right!” I call. “We’re only talking.”

“We’re finished talking.” Gem is already shuffling away. The rattle of the chains hobbling his feet makes the skin at the back of my neck bunch. I hate that sound. I hate that I’ve never had the courage to ask for the chains to be removed. “Tell the guards I’m ready to go back to my cell.”

“Are you all right?” Bo squats beside me, his swift breath ruffling the hair above my ear. I want to swat it away like an insect, but I don’t. Bo hasn’t done anything inappropriate. Not really.

“I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile.

It’s not Bo’s fault that I’m having a difficult time embracing our impending betrothal. Junjie hasn’t said anything outright, but his machinations aren’t as subtle as he believes. Bo is always seated next to me at dinner, always the one chosen to deliver messages to my rooms, and the only guard allowed to be alone with me. As soon as my mourning is over, Junjie will be at the tower door with official betrothal documents in hand, asking me to sign away what little freedom I’ve enjoyed since Baba’s death.

Bo is a good man, a good boy—only nineteen, the same age as Gem—but even good men can make cruel jailors. My father locked my mother in the tower for months before she made her fatal escape, and he held me prisoner for years. What if Bo proves to be a king who prefers his wife kept under lock and key?

I know it’s my duty to marry as soon as custom allows, but I can’t help wishing I had more time to adjust to the idea, to adjust to Bo. He’s attentive and flattering, but aside from his opinions on wine and music, I don’t know much about him. I can’t seem to scratch the surface to find out what—if anything—lies beneath.

Winter, as miserable as it is, can’t pass slowly enough this year.

“Are you sure?” Bo asks.

“I’m sure.” I brush the dirt from my hands, moving a degree away from him in the process. “Gem’s only tired. His legs hurt. He needs an escort back to his rooms.”

“Right away.” Bo calls to the other soldiers, clearly relieved to be rid of our prisoner. He’s spoken to Gem a few times, but never more than a word or two. Gem obviously makes him uncomfortable. I know Bo would welcome an excuse to tell his father I shouldn’t be allowed to work with the Monstrous anymore.

That knowledge makes me careful to remain calm as I call—

“Gem?”

“Yes, my lady?” The words are crisp, cutting in their politeness. I’m the one who told him he must call me “my lady” when other people are around, but at the moment I hate the sound of the words.

“Will you come to work tomorrow?”

“You’re the queen, my lady,” he says. “You don’t have to ask.”

“I want to ask.” I mimic his sugary tone exactly, down to the hint of a snarl hiding beneath. “Wouldn’t your chief ask?”

“I don’t know, my lady. My chief doesn’t keep slaves.” He shuffles away, the rattle of his chains banishing any whisper of protest.

He’s right. He is a slave. But what can I do to change that, when I’m not much more than a slave myself? I can work on this healing garden and do what I can to help my people, but I will never fundamentally change Yuan. In a city bought with blood, certain things will never change. Can never change. If they did, the city and her bickering people and hungry roses would cease to exist.

I fold my arms around myself, cold despite the layers I put on before leaving the tower. I’m always cold, lately. There never seems to be enough fire or hot tea or ginger soup to thaw the things frozen inside.

“What’s wrong?” Bo’s hand warms my knee. He’s settled down to sit on the ground beside me, a strange thing for a soldier to do, but I’m grateful. I’m not ready to stand. “Are you really all right?”

“I told you, I’m fine.” I smile to soften the frustration in my voice.

“Gem and I had a disagreement. Nothing to worry about.”

“A monster shouldn’t quarrel with a queen.”

“Why not?” I laugh my new bitter laugh. My parsnip laugh—sour and gritty. “Everyone else does. Even Needle, and she can’t speak.”

“Do you want a new maid?” he asks, making my heart skip a beat. “I know a wonderful girl, a noble, who mentioned she’d be honored to—”

“No, no,” I hurry to say. “I love Needle. She’s devoted to me. It’s nothing like that. It’s …” I brush the hair from my face with an angry whip of my fingers. “Forget I said anything. Please. I’m not myself.”

“Are you ill?”

“No, I …” My stone-filled pockets suddenly feel heavier. “I’m just … tired.”

“And dirty.” Bo cups my chin in his hand. “I’ve never seen a lady of the court who enjoys dirt as much as you.”

“I’m not a lady of the court. I’m a lady of the tower.”

“Not anymore,” he says.

“Always.” I turn my head, breaking contact. His touch still makes me nervous, and his hands feel even softer than usual.

“Isra …” His sigh blasts my neck like a wave of heat from the fire. I curl away, brushing my ear with my