The Beauty Thief Read online

  The Beauty Thief

  Rachael Ritchey

  The Beauty Thief (Chronicles of the Twelve Realms, Book One)

  By Rachael Ritchey

  © Copyright 2015, 2016 Rachael Ritchey

  All Rights Reserved.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  1.2 Edition

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  * * *

  Discover other titles by Rachael Ritchey

  Captive Hope (Book 2, Chronicles of the Twelve Realms)

  The Treasonous (Book 3, Chronicles of the Twelve Realms)

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  Book Trailers on YouTube

  The Beauty Thief: https://youtu.be/CJSBRbHkouE

  Captive Hope: https://youtu.be/1Uc1ovBBHX8

  The Treasonous: https://youtu.be/zo6kwULJglM

  Table of Contents

  Betrothed

  Five Years Later

  Eliya on the Way

  Family

  Castle Taisce

  A Celebration and a Curse

  Midnight Visitor

  Shock

  The Journey Begins

  Watch Your Step, Princess

  No One is Perfect

  Plans Change

  Conleth

  Unmerited Rancor

  The Blow's Affliction

  Truth in a Story

  To Forgive or Not to Forgive

  Weariness

  Arrival at High Castle

  Paramount Unity

  Rubinthynium

  Beauty Comes with Age

  Weathering the Storm

  Ambush

  Tracking Thieves

  The Mighty One is Over All

  Forming Plans

  Piercing Perfection

  Send Help

  A Princess for Gold

  Captive Audience of One

  The Trail's End

  In the Belly of the Beast

  Total Lunar Eclipse

  Three Weeks Later

  Acknowledgments

  To my daughters, Kass and Onna

  Your beauty lies not in how you look or what you wear.

  It is in the depths of your heart where character and courage reside.

  Chapter 1

  Betrothed

  How could she be expected to endure an assault on her freedom? Her future? Her happiness?

  Caityn wanted to stomp her feet or throw something. Still, she had enough composure left to realize only a toddler would behave so. By sheer force of will alone, she held herself in check, but she couldn’t keep the growing monster of dread from tainting her voice.

  “I hate being a princess! I’m weary of always being told what I can and cannot do.” Caityn grabbed the pillow from her window seat and squeezed it against her chest. “I want to make my own choices, and I should be allowed to make this one myself.”

  “Caityn—”

  “I’m thirteen now. Why can’t I choose for myself, Mama?”

  She couldn’t mask her agitation any longer as she turned away and threw the pillow down on the seat. Caityn stared out the window and wished the weather would be as gloomy as her mood. Her mother hadn’t spoken for quite a while, and when Ismene’s voice broke the silence from just behind her, Caityn cringed.

  “Daughter, as much as you think being a princess is difficult and drudgery, you have no idea how the world around you works.” Her mother placed a gentle hand on Caityn’s arm and turned her around. “I know you are capable of making your own decisions, but my point is plain, dearest. Every person must take orders of some kind or another. Even your father has rules to live by.

  “We all have roles in life which we must fulfill. But, whatever your role, it is not who you are as a person. It is merely what you do. Now stop this fussing and listen, Caityn. ‘Princess’ is not who you are; it is your job. Who you choose to be in the midst, my love, is entirely up to you.”

  Ismene paused to let her words sink in, but Caityn didn’t want to hear any of it.

  “Now, Caityn. I can read the look on your face. This does not release you from your responsibility. You still must marry the man your father chose for you. Pick up your protruding lip and come sit by me on the bed.”

  Caityn glowered at the back of her mother’s head as she watched the always graceful queen glide across the room. Her feet, though, refused to budge. She was unsettled over the whole conversation and couldn’t bring herself to comply.

  When the queen sat, their eyes met, and as if willed to move only by her mother’s mind, Caityn approached the edge of the bed. But she refused to sit, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I still don’t see why I have to marry some stranger, some . . . some old stuffed-shirt!”

  “Caityn,” her mother said, reproachful, “I will not have you insulting the high prince with such childish name-calling. Besides, he’s only five years your senior. Be glad your father didn’t wait for a prince of the realms to choose you. Do sit. I’d like to tell you a story.”

  She finally gave in, sitting almost a foot away from her mother. Caityn wanted to make it clear she sat of her own accord. She startled when Ismene wrapped an arm around her waist and scooted close.

  Without wasting any time, Ismene began her impromptu tale. “Once upon a time there was a little princess who loved horses. She was all of three years old but begged her papa to let her ride his stallions. Many times she implored and many times the king refused. She was persistent, and one day his ‘nay’ changed to ‘yea.’

  “The princess was thrilled, and her father was pleased to fulfill her wish. He took her to the stables to meet her new equestrian friend.

  “One day during her riding lessons, her dear papa had a meeting to attend and couldn’t watch her as she mastered her new skill. But on this day, she had a new audience: a quiet young boy who stood on the fence.

  “Now, she was a brave one, if not a little headstrong, and she tried to make her sweet horse go faster than was prudent. She did not listen to her training master. She did not listen to her nursery maid who loved her so dearly, and, sadly, the little princess took quite a tumble.

  “My oh my, there was such a ruckus! But, quiet and calm, the boy from the fence carried you home.

  “No one stood in his way as he trudged up the hill—he was a prince, you see. And it was quite a sight, a ragtag group from the stables. They huddled protectively around you and the high prince.”

  Caityn leaned away and shifted to face her mother. “This story is about me?”

  “Yes, sweetheart. You’ve always had a mind of your own, and you can see, it is not always in your best interest.”

  “I still don’t see why I must marry somebody I’ve never met.”

  “Don’t you see?” Ismene said and folded her hands in her lap. “You have met. The boy at the stables—he is your betrothed. That was the day we made the betrothal agreement. I was worried at first, but the high prince proved to your father and me that even at a young age he had a good head on his shoulders, not to mention a chivalrous heart.”

  Caityn fl
opped back on the bed and grunted, covering her eyes with her arm. “Some prince, who carried a three-year-old, is the ball to which I am doomed to be chained to for the rest of my life!”

  She felt the bed move when Ismene stood, but she didn’t bother to lift her arm from her eyes. In truth, it was the only thing holding her tears at bay.

  “Really, Caityn, don’t you think that’s a little dramatic, even for you?”

  “Not in the least.” Caityn’s distress caused a poisonous anger to lace her voice. It didn’t matter that he might have done something nice when she was a toddler. Neither did she know him nor want to get to know him. Not ever.

  She wiped her arm across her face and thrust up from the bed to stand rigid. “Can you even imagine what it is like to be told you have no choice of who you will marry?”

  “Sweetheart, have you forgotten? Your father and I were betrothed. I never met him until our wedding day.”

  “Mama!” The endearment was drawn out in exasperation. “I mean, I don’t even like boys. Well, not really. Well, I don’t know what I think of boys, but marriage? I don’t even want to think about it! I don’t want to marry anybody!”

  “Even when you’re fuming mad, I love you. Still, Caity, this attitude must change. Hmmm . . . think of it this way. You need never worry about whom you will marry. Instead, you can focus on all the other wonderful parts of being a young woman with a bright future ahead.

  “Besides, thinking seriously about marriage right now is unnecessary. Your father and I only wanted to tell you of this to give you time to prepare for the future. We didn’t want to leave it until the last moment.”

  Caityn couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. “I don’t think it would matter when you told me. I would still hate it.”

  She stood stiff as Ismene reached out. Her mother’s embrace and gentle strokes upon Caityn’s head worked their magic. Reluctant though she was to accept the inevitable dreariness of her future, Caityn felt her resolve softening.

  Ismene whispered, “Caity, you will always be you, even though you are the princess of Taisce with a very important role to play. No one and nothing can change who you are. This will always be your choice.”

  Chapter 2

  Five Years Later

  Caityn plunked down on the window seat of her room where she leaned against the wall and rested her head on the cool stone. A chill ran up her spine as the feeling of being watched invaded her consciousness. She’d felt it so often over the years she’d learned to ignore the dread.

  In a move of defiance against the uncomfortable sensation—and propriety—Caityn propped her feet up on the seat but didn’t care one wit how unladylike it might look. After all, her mother wasn’t nearby, and as far as Caityn was concerned, manners didn’t matter so much in the privacy of her own room.

  She waited impatiently for her betrothed, the high prince of all twelve realms, who must have been held up on the practice fields with his men. Caityn was expecting him for tea, but if he didn’t come soon, it would be cold. He wasn’t late, but the anticipation grew of their wedded life together with every encounter. It gave her a thrill of excitement that five years ago she never would have believed possible.

  And now, in two days, she would be his wife. But the thrill of marrying wrestled against the sadness of leaving her home. Taisce, one kingdom of Twelve Realms, was all she’d ever known. Her family and her people were precious, and the thought of leaving them made her stomach churn. Still, knowing she’d be with Theiandar held comfort enough.

  Theiandar. He had certainly come as a surprise.

  She gazed out her bedroom window and surveyed the majestic land of her birth while thinking on the events leading up to this week. Caityn stared at the distant, snow-peaked mountains and the twisting river, but superimposed upon her view were the memories of first meeting her Theiandar.

  She closed her eyes and let the images of the past take over her tumultuous thoughts, picturing the beautiful, warm summer day they’d met when she was sixteen. Contemplating it now, two years later, rekindled a mixture of emotions because she’d not then realized Theiandar was her betrothed. It hadn’t helped that when they’d met by chance in the stables he’d introduced himself as Raz. He’d seemed familiar, but at the time she hadn’t known why.

  Sixteen-year-old Caityn had thought of him only as the captain of a guard unit in the high king’s army. Even his men had called him Raz, and she never saw him interact with her father. Of course, as she thought of it now, she realized that during those years she would have been at the village most of the time, helping at the little school or visiting the infirm and widowed. That had left few opportunities to see the two men exchange any pleasantries.

  Her mother and father had been true to their word and never pushed her in thinking of her betrothal. They’d let her just be a girl with a bright future, as her mother had said. Once she’d accepted her fate, she’d been happy, but thinking of marriage had always been pushed as far from her mind as possible. Caityn assumed that was why her parents never told her specifically when Theiandar and his guardsmen came to the castle. Now that she knew him, she almost wished they’d made them spend time together.

  Of course, the conversation they’d had after their formal introduction on her seventeenth birthday had been horrifying, and the remembrance caused her pleasure to falter. As soon as that awkward moment had begun, everyone else cleared out, leaving them standing alone in the great hall at Taisce.

  In honest and aching bewilderment, she’d said the most inane thing possible: “But . . . your name is Raz.”

  What was worse, he’d actually had the gall to laugh. Caityn’s embarrassment went beyond anything, and she’d almost slapped him; the startling, unfamiliar desire had been strong.

  He quickly apologized and rambled on about how it was an epithet the other soldiers had placed on him. “I honestly thought you knew who I was—I mean am. Raz. It means secret. I suppose it was some secret I had yet to discover. Maybe they were right, but the name stuck. Now I hope it implies I’ve discovered what I didn’t know.”

  His apology for laughing seemed sincere, but she was still upset enough to let him sweat while she contemplated his words and actions over the previous year of rare interactions. Though brief, up until the formal introduction, he’d never once implied he was the prince or her betrothed, and she had no idea how she’d missed it.

  Now sitting here in her room, days before their marriage, she wondered if maybe more of her anger hadn’t been for herself and her blindness. If she’d been thinking of him as anything other than a handsome knight, she might not have willfully ignored the fact that even no knowing who he truly was, he’d been so very much more to her than that. She’d come to care for him by then, more than she should have. She could still remember the anguish on his face as he’d apologized again.

  “Cait, I realize I’ve embarrassed you. Can you find it in your power to forgive me?”

  She remembered nodding but couldn’t recall if she’d said anything in reply.

  He’d gone on to say, “You’re the most gentle and beautiful creature I’ve ever known. I have to beg your forgiveness again. I wasn’t sure of the merit of this betrothal when my father reminded me. But I have enjoyed our time together. It has assured me of my father’s wisdom in arranging our marriage. Honestly, I’m amazed he knew me so well. He chose exactly who I would have chosen for myself.”

  He’d raised her hand to his lips. The soft press of his kiss, the courtly bow of his head, and the fervent longing in his eyes all worked to melt the stony anger that had attempted to invade her heart.

  That was a year ago, and she had to chuckle at herself now. She knew in her heart of hearts this man was the one she desired to be with for the rest of her life. High Prince or servant of a king—it didn’t matter.

  * * *

  Adair stopped in front of Caityn’s door, which stood slightly ajar. A brief rap on the smooth surface brought no response, so he pushed it open on sile
nt hinges and leaned on the doorframe, admiring his younger sister. Caityn’s head was bent, probably in prayer, with her hands resting on her bent knees where she reclined at the window.

  He smiled, knowing she was much more than a russet-haired beauty. Her charm and loveliness radiated from the inside. There was no denying how people of every station were drawn to Caityn’s unwavering, gentle spirit.

  Adair cleared his throat and grinned as Caityn’s head shot up.

  “Adair, you’re home!” She jumped to her feet.

  He opened his arms as she ran to embrace him with childish abandon. It was good to be home. Caityn squeezed him around the middle.

  “That’s quite the grip you’ve got, little sister. It appears you have missed me.”

  She let go of Adair and gave him an amused look that told him she wasn’t going to fall for his tricks or teasing.

  “I was expecting Theian for tea, but you’ll have to do.” Caityn’s hands flew to her hips as a look of mock surprise broke across her face. “Look at you with this shocking beard! When was the last time your face saw a razor? You look like a wild mountain man. Oh, but I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it back in time.”

  Bemusement twinkled in her eyes as Adair quickly rubbed the blondish-red hair on his chin. He took her shoulders and held her at arm’s length.

  “Absurd child! I’d have to be locked in a dungeon with no way of escape before I’d miss the wedding of my best friend to my best sister?”

  She rolled her eyes and grasped his hand. “Look at who’s absurd now. I’m your only sister.”

  She dragged him to the table set for tea, and he grinned wider. Two things he could always count on when it came to Caityn were her sense of humor and kindness, and both he’d missed on his travels.