Twisted Beauty (A Sleeping Beauty Tale)

Chapter Thirty-Five

I must have dozed off at some point, for I awoke to someone stroking my cheek. I flinched from the touch, my eyes opening to see Leighton smiling down at me. In one hand, he held a saucer with a cup of steaming tea.

"Good morning," he said, holding the tea out to me. Warily, I sat up and took it, sniffing the tea. Not that I had any knowledge of poisons or toxins – it was what every heroine did in the novels I had read. But it smelled like normal tea. And so, I tried not to look too eager as I drank it.

"What do you want?" I asked, wincing as I burned my tongue.

He cocked his head to the side, watching intently as I drank. It unsettled me. "You play a very big part in this rebellion – did you know that?"

"What exactly is the goal of this rebellion?"

"You're very direct," he replied. "Did you know that most of the crimes committed in both kingdoms are done by those with magic? Surprisingly, it's the ones with little magic who do so – they crave power, and will break laws to get it."

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to get to his point. Though it was surprising, I didn't understand his point. After all, them wanting to gain power was an understandable motive. But how would it apply to the rebels?

"If all the weaker magic users were wiped out, crime rates would drop dramatically."

I almost snorted at his claim – the only thing stopping me was over a decade of training to be a lady. "That's ridiculous. Then the only ones committing crimes would be those with immense power. Leaving only those with troves of magic would lead to wars and chaos. There must be balance."

His eyes glittered with a hunger that made me pale. "But that's the point, Belle. Survival of the fittest leads to a thriving society."

"You're insane."

"Maybe so, but you have magic. And you're going to be a part of this." I opened my mouth to argue, but he simply smiled and took my empty teacup from me, setting it on the coffee table. Returning to me, he held out a hand. "There's something you should see."

I stared at his outstretched hand for what seemed to be a long time. I didn't trust him at all and some stubborn part of me wanted to refuse, even though it would bring me to answers I desperately needed. After a moment, I stood up and folded my arms, refusing to take his hand, yet willing to follow. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't grab me as we walked down the hall, much to my relief.

With the hallways all looking the same, I soon had no idea where we were or how we would return. No one was in sight, though I occasionally heard the sound of boots against stone. Leighton was utterly silent as we walked, which surprised me after how he acted the day prior. Was it a day ago? I had no way of telling time, and exhaustion was slowly tugging at me, so perhaps it was only a few hours ago.

Finally, we came to a door. It was painted black with a single red line – likely to represent something. I glanced up at Leighton, but his face was passive as he opened the door and led me inside. It was a bedroom, similar to the one I had, except there was pink in the place of blue.

The sound of rasping breathing drew my eyes towards the bed, and there I saw a blonde woman lying beneath the blankets, her hair limp and her face too pale. With a jolt, I realised it was Lillian. I was quick to run to her side and pressed a hand to her forehead. She was running a fever.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, turning to Leighton. "Why is she here? I was told she eloped."

"Lord Jeffery never eloped with her. He eloped with another woman and we took the opportunity to bring Lillian into the rebellion. Not willingly, of course. But she has a trickle of magic in her blood and so, faking her elopement was necessary."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What does magic have to do with all this?"

Leighton simply glanced at the clock – something my room didn't have – before saying, "I believe this will be sufficient time." And with that, he grabbed my elbow and marched me out of the room. I struggled in his grip, not wanting to leave Lillian in such a state, but his grip was that of steel and I could do nothing but follow him.

We reached my room once more, and I didn't protest when he made me sit next to him on the couch. My eyes felt so heavy.

"What was the point of showing me her?" I asked. "A threat to kill her?"

"You misunderstand," he said, gently taking my hand. Though nausea twisted in my stomach, I didn't snatch it away. Doing so would mean fewer answers. "Just being close to her has infected you."

For a moment, I felt numb. "What are you talking about?"

"Let the sedative kick in. It will be easy, don't you worry." He kissed my knuckles, and silently watched as my vision became blurry. The tea – I had been foolish to drink it. I silently scolded myself, but the thought was lost as darkness swallowed me.

***

Cold.

I was chilled to the bone as frost bit at my skin.

Was I in hell?

***

There were bugs crawling all over me; black and sharp and hot. They bit my skin, drawing drops of blood and dyeing me red.

I screamed.

I could not move, and so my throat burned as I screamed.

It felt as if I was being burned from the inside out.