Hart's Hope by Orson Scott Card

“Berry was the most beautiful woman I know, but I am Beauty, and I thought of some improvements. Here, is this better? And this?”
    He lay in the sand and told her yes, yes, it was better.
    â€œWell, now,” she said at last, dressing herself as she spoke, “well, now, Sleeve. I suppose you’ll want to come with me.”
    â€œWhere are you going?” he asked.
    â€œWhy, to Palicrovol,” she said. “Am I not his wife? Did he not marry me with many, many witnesses?”
    â€œI told him he should have killed you.”
    â€œI remember that,” she said. “But he didn’t, and here I am. Do you think he’ll find me beautiful?”
    It was impossible that she could mean to live with him as his wife.
    â€œOh, I don’t mean to,” she said. “ Live with him? Absurd. But I heard that he was bringing the Flower Princess to him from the southern islands. She is of age, I hear. And apparently he thinks that he can marry her. While I still live, he thinks that he can marry her. When he sees me, will he still think that she is beautiful?”
    Sleeve took a bit of satisfaction in telling her, despite his fear, “Asineth, improve on Berry all you like, but no woman of flesh has ever been so beautiful as Enziquelvinisensee Evelvenin.”
    Suddenly his tongue was thick in his mouth, and he felt snakes slithering inside his clothing, a forked tongue tickling at his throat. “Never call me Asineth again,” she whispered.
    â€œAye, Beauty,” he answered.
    â€œYou will come with me to Palicrovol. I will keep you as a pet.”
    â€œAs you wish,” he said.
    She giggled, and the snakes were gone. “Get up,” she said.
    He got up, and in the process discovered that she was not content with changing her own shape. She had changed his, too.
    â€œTell the truth,” she said. “Don’t you like yourself better like this? Weren’t you tired of standing out, a pale giant among other men?”
    He did not answer her, just stared at his hands and nodded. This is what defeat feels like, he told himself, but he knew it was not true. This was only the beginning of defeat. He knew that Asineth had plans. And he pitied Palicrovol, for there was no hope for him now. It was plain that all the warnings about the power of a ten-month child were feeble compared to the danger of its mother, and now it was too late to think of how he might thwart her. Asineth’s power was so beyond his that she could swat away his strongest effort with a laugh. It would be something besides the power of the living blood that would undo her now, if anything ever did. He had never been so afraid in all his life.
    Only when he had packed his books and hoisted them on his back, only when she led him away from Brack on the end of a golden chain, only then did he invent a role for himself that might just keep him alive. He wrapped the long chain around his legs to hobble him and toddled after her like a child, singing loudly,
    I have captured Beauty,
    I have her on a string,
    I keep her in the cupboard,
    And poke her with my thing.
    She looked back at him in annoyance and pulled on the golden chain. Immediately he fell forward against the rocks, gashing his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, he sat upright and poked the wound with his finger, then licked off the blood.
    â€œThe wine is strong, but the vintage is wrong,” he declared solemnly.
    Looking down at him, she smiled in spite of herself. She had given him a ridiculous shape; now he was living the part she had assigned him. It pleased her. “What is the name of the wine?” she asked, playing along.
    â€œSplenetic Red, from the fields of Urubugala.”
    â€œUrubugala,” she said, and she laughed aloud. “Urubugala. That is the language of Elukra, isn’t it? What does it mean?”
    â€œLittle cock,” answered Sleeve.
    â€œMy little cock,” she said. “My