Of Beauty and Beast

take over for the next few days. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?

You said it wouldn’t take more than three days. Two, if you were quick.”

He grunts. I can tell he isn’t impressed with the plan. “And what of the queen? Won’t someone notice your absence?”

“I told Bo I don’t wish to be disturbed,” I say, throat tightening around what I’ve left unsaid: the crack in the dome waiting to be investigated and the fact that Bo stands at my tower door right now, and all the rest. “He’ll honor my wish to be left alone for a few days, and Needle will turn him away if he does not.”

Gem makes another dubious sound. When he speaks again, I can tell he’s closer. His breath is warmer. It whispers across my lips, prickling my skin. “If your people find out you took me into the desert with no one to protect you, or prevent me from escaping, they’ll think you’re more rattled in the brain than they do already. Junjie will lock you away, and you will never rule this city.”

“I will never rule this city if I run back to my rooms,” I hiss. “I must give the people a reason to see me as —or at least remember me—as something more than …”

“More than?”

“The garden will prove I am a good and useful queen,” I say, cursing myself for nearly losing control of my tongue. I don’t want Gem to know. I don’t want him to treat me the way people treat a girl who has been marked for death since her very birth. “The garden will—” A faint thud sounds from the direction of the orchard. I freeze, falling silent, until Gem whispers—

“An apple falling to the ground. There is still fruit on the limbs at the very top.” Disgust creeps into his tone. “Your people have so much, you leave food to rot.”

My answer. I have it. I know how to make Gem come with me. I hate to make promises I might not be alive to keep, but I have no choice. “Help me tonight,” I say, “and I will do what I can for your people.”

“You can do nothing.”

“Not now,” I agree. “But if we fetch these bulbs, and the herbs we need later … If my garden is a success and my people are healed and learn to love me, they’ll respect my judgment. Come summer, when the first of the crops are in, I’ll convince the council to send a portion of what is ours into the desert.”

“The herbs may take months to work. My people can’t wait that long.”

“All right,” I say, growing increasingly desperate the longer we linger.

“Then I will send food as soon as I can. I’ll convince my advisors it’s necessary, a peace offering to keep the Desert People from returning to free our captive.”

“And who will deliver this peace offering?”

“You will. I’ll talk with Junjie. I’ll persuade him that you can be trusted to return when your errand is through.”

“Can I?”

“You’re here now,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “You wouldn’t be if your father’s promise didn’t mean something to you. You’re honorable. I’ll explain that to Junjie.”

Gem’s laugh is soft but parsnip-bitter all the same. “You think he’ll listen?”

“I’ll make him listen.” Tightness flashes in my jaw. “I am changed.

Things have happened tonight that …” I swallow, moistening my lips with my tongue, struggling to keep my voice even. “Things are different now,” I whisper. “I won’t allow Junjie to rule in my place. When we return from the desert, I will join the council meetings. I will speak to the people and hear their complaints myself. I will not sit quietly by. I will fight for a place in this city, and I will fight for those who have served me well. Help me, and I will help your people.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “You sound almost like a queen.”

“I will behave like one. I swear it,” I say, ignoring the guilty prickle at the back of my neck.

Gem could never guess how good the chances are that I won’t be around to keep my promise. And I can’t tell him. I can’t. Especially with the roses hovering behind us like carrion birds, watching, waiting for a sign that it’s time to swoop down and feed.

“Please. I’ll beg if I—”

“Where is this secret door?” Gem asks, taking my hand.

My fingers startle open before tightening with a grateful squeeze. I find myself comforted by his calloused palm in a way I never am by Bo’s softness. Gem is going to help. He has given me hope, and I swear to myself that I will give the same to his people. I will. I will live to honor my promise to him, and hopefully many more.

“This way.” I start toward the orchard, still holding his hand. “There’s a small gate, the King’s Gate, beyond the village green, past the cornfields, near the granaries. It’s no more than a door, really,” I whisper as we hurry through the trees. “I’ve never been through it, but I’m told it’s hidden behind—” Gem jerks my arm—hard and sudden—sending a flash of pain through my shoulder. I stumble back, and his arms are suddenly around me, his hand covering my mouth, muffling my rush of breath as our bodies collide. I stiffen but don’t pull away. I stand perfectly still, ears pricking.

I press my lips together and nod, and Gem’s hand drops from my mouth, but his arms remain around my waist, holding me close as the scuff, scuff of boots sounds behind us.

Soldiers. On the path we left only moments ago.

My stomach turns itself inside out beneath Gem’s hand. What if we’re spotted? I’m assuming it’s darker beneath the trees, but that’s only a guess. My world is always dark, without variation. I can’t know whether it’s better to hide in the shadows or run for the green and hope the soldiers don’t notice our footsteps. I have to trust that Gem has made the right decision, that standing frozen like statues will keep us safe.

But I do trust him. He doesn’t want to be caught. If the soldiers find him with the queen pinned to his chest, they won’t hesitate. They’ll throw their spears. Aim for Gem’s heart. Hope to kill him before he kills me.

They won’t take the time to see that Gem’s claws aren’t extended, that his arms are gentle around me, or that my fingers linger over his. They won’t notice that I lean into him, not away, or that my head turns to look over my shoulder, bringing my cheek so near his mouth that his silent breath warms my skin. They would never in a thousand years imagine that my eyes slide closed and a shiver runs through me not because I fear for my life but because Gem’s body is pressed against mine, because his hand on my belly makes it ache, because the longing to taste him is stronger than it was before.

If Gem and I were alone, and I were the kind who cared for nothing but my own pleasure, I would turn in his arms. I would arch my back and tilt my head and press my lips to his. I would kiss him the way Bo kissed me in the royal garden. I would not fear his teeth. I would not think how strange it is for tongues to touch. I would not think about cabbage. I would kiss him until I was breathless.

“They’re gone,” Gem whispers.

My eyes fly open. I exhale sharply, wondering why the news that we’re safe makes my heart beat even faster.

“Isra …” Gem’s hand curls, and the tips of his fingers press deeper into my stomach, and suddenly my long underwear and two layers of overalls are not enough protection from his touch. I shudder, and the world shifts, and I fill to the brim with a feeling I’ve never felt before. It bubbles inside me until a soft sigh of pain escapes my lips.

Pain, because I’m not stupid. I know what this feeling is.

King Deshi’s love songs were the first melodies I learned to play on my harp. My teacher, Biyu, taught me the chords—sitting behind me with her fingers guiding mine—and Father taught me the words. Baba and I would sing some of the songs together before it was time for me to go to bed, but there were some I was too embarrassed to sing with him. Even at ten or eleven, I realized not all love songs are about the way love affects a heart. They’re about the way love affects the body, about a hunger that has nothing to do with food. King Deshi’s metaphors aren’t so clever that I couldn’t guess their meanings.

The pelican with its “pulsing beak” was no pelican.

Needle told me how it is with a man and a woman and the “beak” and the “flower” not long after my first blood. Baba thought I was too naive to understand, but I wasn’t.… I …

Baba.

My lungs turn to stone, trapping my next breath and holding it prisoner. He’s gone. It hits me all over again.