Beauty and the Blade

BEAUTY AND THE BLADE By S. C. Grayson * * * Copyright © 2022 S. C. Grayson Edited by Lisa Green. Cover Design by MiblArt. Interior Artwork by Lulybot. All stock photos licensed appropriately. Published in the United States by City Owl Press. www.cityowlpress.com For information on subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher at [email protected] This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior consent and permission of the publisher. CONTENTS Want More City Owl Press Books? Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Sneak Peek of Spears and Shadows Find Your Next Mystic Owl Read! Want More City Owl Press Books? Acknowledgments About the Author About the Publisher Mystic Owl Books To Amanda, You gave me my first fairytale retelling, and now I can give you one of my own. WANT MORE CITY OWL PRESS BOOKS? Click here to sign up for the City Owl Press newsletter and be the first to find out about special offers, including FREE book days, contents, giveaways, cover reveals, and more! Sign up now and become a City Owl Reader today! And join our City Owl Reader-Author group here for even more deals and a whole lot of community and fun! 1 As Contessa prepared for her wedding, there were no tittering bridesmaids to remark on the fashion of her gown or to gossip about what eligible bachelors they might dance with at the celebration. There was only her maid, Ada, solemnly buttoning up her gown. Despite the decadent lace dripping off the wide sleeves of her dress, Contessa couldn't escape the feeling that she was a knight donning armor for battle as Ada tightened her corset. Ada drew Contessa from her imaginings as she began pinning the veil to the crown of her head, the ivory of the lace only a few shades lighter than her silvery blonde hair. It was the same veil her mother had worn on her wedding day, and Contessa couldn't help but feel comforted by the thought of her. After all, if it weren't for her, Contessa wouldn't be getting married today at all. Ada lowered the blusher over her face like a knight's visor before combat. She was ready. Contessa emerged from her room to find her father waiting on the landing. As soon as she stepped out the door, his gaze darted over her form, taking in every detail as if he were cataloguing evidence for a police report. "Yes, you'll do nicely. Every bit the beautiful bride that rabid dog bargained for." Her father's tone was clipped and business-like, as usual, even in his approval of her. After all, this wedding was the first step in a plan that was as much his as hers. Her father turned on his heel and marched towards the front door. Once Contessa picked up her hem and maneuvered her skirts down the stairs as well, they made their way to the carriage that waited for them on the cobblestoned street. The ride to the church was blessedly short. Only the harsh clop of hooves on the cobbles and the clatter of wheels broke the silence in the carriage. Contessa pushed back the curtain in the window to peer out into the gray city streets of London. People paused to watch the carriage pass, knowing it belonged to the chief of the Royal Police from the crest on the side. The closest bystanders smiled and waved at Contessa as they wove their way from the upper city towards the spires of the palace and the church at the top of the hill. As Contessa looked longer, though, she noticed people peering from darkened doorways and curtained windows, their faces shadowed with fear. It seemed that the respect commanded by Chief Cook was laced with a healthy dose of apprehension. The number of Cursed—or Talented as they had once been called—he had sent to the gallows in the Inquiries kept the city safe, even as it frightened many. And the fear burdening the people of London was only made heavier by the growing rumors of the King's illness. Only when the carriage jerked to a halt in front of the church did Contessa's father speak. "This is the last moment we have to talk openly. From here on, you must appear to be the perfect and demure wife. You cannot expose your true motivation in marrying Mr. Woodrow to anybody, or you risk your safety." Contessa nodded, already having heard this information a dozen times but unwilling to interrupt her father to tell him so. "We’re lucky to have this opportunity to get you so close to Mr. Woodrow. We can't afford to squander it. It's incredibly fortunate that he took a liking to the way you looked and was rash enough to want to marry you despite you being my daughter." Her father's hard gray eyes softened fractionally as he continued. "It's no wonder, though, with you looking so much like your mother. She always was so beautiful. I'm glad you take after her. Remember, we're doing this for her, Connie." At his words, steel snaked its way into Contessa's spine. The use of her mother's nickname for her brought back memories of smile lines and gentle lullabies—brighter times, before her father had become consumed with his work in the Inquiries. No matter what lay ahead, she