Free The Subtle Beauty by Ann Hunter Page A

midst of a dire family emergency.”
    Instantly, Ophelia burst into tears. “It is Father, isn’t it? Oh, no, Father is dead!”
    “Shut up, Ophie,” Alexa chided.
    “As you have heard, I am to be wed to Prince Eoghan. This can not come to pass.”
    Odessa folded her arms. “Really? Why is that?”
    “I am in love with Colin the Falconer. We have already arranged to be married.”
    Murtia stretched out on a nearby chaise. “What do you expect us to do about it?”
    “I have watched each of you this very night and observed your misery. Not one of you is happy with the match Father has chosen.” Glory paused, reconsidering. “Except Portia, but she chose food.”
    Portia looked up from a small table with a turkey leg in her mouth. “I was hungry.”
    “You are always hungry.” Murtia rolled her eyes.
    “And you are always lazy,” Portia retorted.
    Before arguments could break out, Glory regained their attention. “Sisters, I know we are not always kind to each other, but nevertheless, we are still sisters, and I dare say we love each other.”
    No one argued that point.
    “Now it stands to reason that with you all so unhappy, you may want to see at least one of us happy. Dear sisters, will you not find a way to spare me from the fates you all have suffered?” She looked around at them, the orange firelight dancing off their sleepy faces.
    The princesses all looked at each other, then back to Glory.
    “Why in the world would we do that?” Alexa asked.
    “If we are not happy, why should you be?” Odessa pressed.
    Murtia agreed. “Yes, that does seem rather unfair.”
    “Because I am in love!” cried Glory. “Have none of you ever been in love before?”
    “Of course we have,” Alexa stated. “Father made sure those affairs never came to fruition. There are consequences when it comes to love. Why do you think I--”
    Glory glared at her. “You do not count, you man-hungry, beetle-headed gudgeon!”
    Odessa cackled at Glory’s spunk. “Alright, little sister,” she soothed. “Say we help you. Then what?”
    Glory saw the glimmer of opportunity. “At midnight tonight, Colin will be waiting for me by the garden. We will ride off together and be wed at once. The lot of you will be rid of a burden of a little sister, and I will be free to live my life. I need you all to help me get to him, undetected.”
    “That’s so romantic,” sniffled Ophelia.
    Alexa beckoned Odessa over and conspired with her. Glory wondered what they were whispering.
    “All right, Glory,” Alexa nodded, “we’ll help you. We will whisk you away to your midnight rider, but on one condition.”
    “Name it.”
    “That when you wake up one morning, you will not hold us responsible for your utter misery.”
    Glory smiled. “That will never happen. We will live happily ever after.”
    Alexa motioned to the door. “Well, then, sisters, let us to it, post haste. The witching hour approaches.”
    Glory felt a rush of excitement and grinned.
    Alexa smiled wryly. “We wouldn’t want to keep your bridegroom waiting, would we?”
    Glory shook her head no.
     
    The princesses padded down the darkened hallways. Murtia slipped a sleeping potion to the guard by their shared common room. Odessa ordered another to keep quiet or there would be consequences (it helped that she passed him a satchel of gold coins); Ophelia turned a corner and sobbed violently upon another who became equally distraught over trying to calm her. At the Great Hall, Portia distracted the guard with a late-night snack. Finally, Alexa seduced away the most stalwart guard close to the doors of the garden with a husky, “Hey, there, soldier.” Odessa spirited Glory out.
    Glory ran to the other side of the garden. Her feet could not carry her fast enough. A cloaked rider on a black horse was silhouetted against the inky, starry sky. He reached down with a calloused hand and pulled her up behind him. Glory, ecstatic, waved goodbye and mouthed enthusiastic thank