Fractured Slipper

by Adrienne Monson

  “Just where do you think you’re going? You’re coming with me,” he demanded.

  I saw a blur of color. I turned to see Father headed right for us.

  “Get your hands off my daughter. What’s going on here, Commander Drake?”

  The commander’s grip loosened on my arm but he didn’t let go.

  “Your daughter?” He glared at me, then turned back to Father with a smug grin. “We found her kneeling over Prince Greyson. He was unconscious, and she has royal blood all over her hands. I’m taking her to the king.”

  Father bared his teeth. “No. I said, get your hands off my daughter.” His tone was low and threatening, something I’d never heard before.

  Commander Drake stared at Father with a strange aggression that confused me, as if they were old enemies. “Move out of my way or I’ll have you arrested as well. Believe me, it would give me great pleasure to do so,” he snarled.

  Father launched at him, swiping at the arm that held me. Commander Drake let go and swung at Father’s face catching him on the corner of his chin. I watched stunned as he fell backward, cracking the back of his head into the metal hub of the carriage wheel. The sudden reverberation of the carriage startled our horses. They reared up and lurched forward in a rapid sprint. The motion of the back wheel turning hooked Father’s coat onto the loose hub rivet. My jaw fell agape as they dragged his trapped body down the rough road.

  “Buck, Jasper—stop, stop!” I darted after our carriage, screaming for the horses to stop, choking on the roiling dust clouds. I ran, utterly helpless, watching Father’s limp body toss back and forth across the pitiless road. Once the horses reached the edge of the road by the hedges, they slowed, then came to a halt. Father’s body lay still, the collar of his torn coat flowering deep red.

  “Father, no!” I collapsed on my knees at his side and put my hand against his chest, waiting for it to rise, but felt no movement. I shook him. Nothing. I continued to shake him, punch him, screaming his name over and over—but he didn’t move.

  He was gone.

  “Oh no, no, no, no, my Papa,” I gripped his jacket in my fists and buried my head in his chest.

  I vaguely remember the shaken commander pulling me off Father’s broken body. He forced me to walk to the carriage and helped me inside. The same guard who tried to help me earlier came to report the prince’s condition.

  “The prince is still unconscious. The royal physician is tending to his wounds.” The guard noticed Father’s body in the road and made to run for him but Commander Drake yanked his sleeve and pulled him back.

  “There was an unfortunate accident with their carriage. Her father was killed. I need you to accompany this girl back to their estate and inform his mistress. Upon your return, have the body loaded and taken to the home for burial.”

  As the guard took the driver’s seat and reins, the commander leaned into the window, snarling in a barely audible voice. “If you ever speak of what happened here today, I’ll have you arrested and imprisoned for your father’s death.”

  I have little memory of the journey. The only thing I could think of was the look on Father’s battered face as he lay in the dirt. I vaguely recalled the quiet guard walking me to the door when we arrived home where he lied to Lilith, telling her there’d been a terrible accident on the way to the king’s castle and Father was dead.

  The moment the door closed on the informing guard, Lilith, Ophelia, and Gisella turned on me. My family convinced themselves I was somehow responsible for Father’s death because I was with him. Although the ultimate wrong remained in the commander’s unexpected violence, sorrow weighed on my heart.

  Matters became worse each day following his death as debtors came and went, informing us of unresolved contracts and deals that fell through in Father’s absence. Each visitor whittled down the inheritance he left us, carving my already hardened stepmother into stone.

  At first, I believed the anguish at losing the man she dearly loved incited her increasing coldness toward me. However, it became noticeably obvious as the money disappeared that my stepmother had married my father for his wealth. Without Father to support us, the estate soon fell into ruin. The luxuries she and my stepsisters had become used to over the short span of their one-year marriage vanished.

  The day before Christmas Eve, the last of the housemaids and servants left to find other employment. Sobbing at the thought of their plight I stood at the door and watched them leave. Soon after Lilith sat me down in our dining room to talk.

  “As you know, the last of the debtors came to settle your Father’s debts this morning. I let all of our servants go, as we have no money to pay them.” She patted her upper lip with the corner of her monogramed handkerchief. She’d aged significantly over the months since Father’s death. Bitterness and resentment told their story in the lines on her forehead and the dark circles under her eyes.

  “My life has not been pleasant, Ella. I will not bore you with my past, but I can tell you I found hope in my union with your Father, both for myself and my daughters, in spite of you. I had one year, one year of happiness. I just got comfortable here in this town.” She gestured over to the window, then stood and rubbed the skin over her right eyebrow.

  “I’m so sorry, I . . . it was an accident.” I longed to tell her the truth—that it wasn’t me who had taken Father from her. But I didn’t dare to confess the secret I’d been forcibly commanded to bury.

  “Stop talking,” she barked. I flinched. She stared at me, a slow burn roiling behind them. “As I said, I had to relieve our servants of their duties this morning. I don’t believe it would be fair to punish my daughters with the responsibilities and care of the estate when their second chance at a good life was stolen by you.”

  “But . . .” I gasped. My lungs constricted. The room spun.

  “As of today, the burdens of the house are yours. It will be your penance for our suffering. Come now, there will be much to clean and prepare. It’s Christmas. I’ll not have my daughters feel the sting of our loss on their favorite holiday.”

  She left the room without another word. From that moment on, I worked day and night to please my stepmother and take care of my two stepsisters’ every whim.

  Lilith, Ophelia, and Gisella took every opportunity to remind me I was to blame for Father’s death and their indigent living conditions. During the long hours of daily toil, the events of what happened that day with the prince looped over and over in my mind. After the initial shock of Father’s death wore off, I couldn’t help but resent the prince and feel the remorse of my part. Father would still be here with me if Prince Greyson could’ve controlled his horse that day and I wouldn’t have had to jump to his aid and help him.

  That thought haunted me for months.

  In the time of my profoundest sorrow and pain, late at night when I finally retired to bed, I would hum Mother’s favorite song and picture her embracing Father as he entered heaven. For comfort, I envisioned them looking down to praise me for acting on what they always taught me—do good and good will be returned to you tenfold.

  I struggled to come to terms with recognizing how doing that one act of good could possibly profit me in kind when it ended in such tragedy. But over time, I came to accept Prince Greyson could no more have prevented the events of that day than I could’ve. Deep down, I accepted that helping the prince was the only thing I could’ve done—because it was the right thing to do.

  Resentment and regret began to fade and the few precious moments the prince and I shared glimmered like gold on the edges of my heartbreak. Although it seemed silly for me to admit, I secretly clung to the look in his eyes and the complemented whisper because that was really the only happiness I had left. It was the only thing in my life that shone with the possibility of returning the good I’d done back to me. That single memory was the only bright star in the darkness of my loss and gave me hope of redemption when my resilience faded.

  Chapter 2

  Servitude

/>   “Mother, she ruined the glaze on the rolls on purpose.”

  Gisella threw her linen napkin on the floor, then picked up her plate and vehemently shoved it at Lilith. “Taste them. The glaze is scorched.”

  Ophelia grabbed the half-eaten roll from Gisella’s plate, her sausage fingers sinking into the soft dough, and chomped down on the corner. She made a face, then spit out the half-chewed portion.

  “Yes, Mother. Scorched. Just like she said. I’m positive she did it on purpose. Like everything she does to us.” She narrowed her eyes and licked her lips. “Like burning my sash with the hot iron, the other day.” She turned to her sister as if to invite her to join in.

  “Yes. Like killing our new father,” sneered Gisella.

  Her harsh words made my stomach sour, reopening the raw wound in my heart that never seemed to heal. It was Father’s first birthday in heaven, and my homage to him was to make his favorite food. I’d risen hours earlier than normal. I’d labored over those rolls and painstakingly followed the recipe in his honor. If he’d have been here, he would have consumed at least three, like he used to, and complimented me with each bite.

  “It’s amazing you can even remember to blink or breathe, Cinderella. Your ineptitude knows no bounds. Pitiful. I’m utterly disgusted, yet not surprised that you’ve ruined such a simple recipe. If I were paying you, today would be your last day in this house. But alas, due to your father’s untimely death, we’re forced to put up with you.” Lilith clicked her tongue, then stood.

  “Come girls, we have much to do today. Let’s leave this pathetic servant girl to her chores. I have a surprise for you when we get to town.”

  Lilith headed for the doorway, paused, then brushed her shoulder against the potted plant on the edge of the secretary. My heart dropped as I watched Mother’s ornate vase tumble to the floor, exploding dirt and the budding plant all over the rug. Lilith dug the soles of her velvet shoes into the dark soil and cleared her throat to signal her daughters to do the same. As they left the room, tracks of sodden mud and crushed leaves scattered in their wake.

  I pressed my fist to my lips, fighting back the flood of tears clouding my vision. I knelt on the ground and as I began picking up the pieces of the shattered vase, Mother’s voice echoed inside my ear. Broken things are just things, Cinderella. All that matters in life are the people you love and those who love you in return.

  My broken heart begged me to hear her, to allow her words to comfort me, but the porcelain shards in my hand were a sore reminder that no love resided for me within these walls. The only love I could ever hope to have in this life seemed to exist in another time and place.

  Scrubbing the dirt-tracked floors took most of the day. This, in addition to my other chores, stole the snippets of the time I usually relied on to complete the garden and farm tasks. With the sun setting, it meant working into the fading light to feed the rest of our animals. I heard Lilith’s cruel words repeat in my mind, and it threatened to wear me down. I tried not to let it get to me but no matter how many times the sun rose or set, the pain of having watched my father die continued to haunt me. In the cold of last winter just after he died, I tasted his tears on the snowflakes as they melted on my lips. I saw his kind face in the clouds during this spring’s sunny days, and I heard his laugh ride in upon the breeze as it tickled the brittle fall leaves these past few weeks.

  I missed him so much.

  I closed my eyes and thought of Father in heaven with Mother to bring me a semblance of peace. In my mind, they laughed together as she handed him a roll with extra glaze. Father ate it, then licked his fingers. Mother admonished him on his manners like always, and they smiled at each other. The image helped to ease some tension from my shoulders. I felt a little comfort, but it soon faded.

  I walked out into front yard and made my way to the dirt road to dump the scrub bucket. Muddy water, fragrant with peat moss and bark, slopped from the silver can as I poured it into the gravel just outside the front gate. After Lilith smashed my mother’s planter, she and my two stepsisters tracked the dark soil and plant skeleton not only down the hall but throughout the entire house.

  Lilith and the girls had hurt me so much over the past year it was beginning to numb me. The anger and resentment I’d have felt months ago at the intentional act seemed dim, almost lost in the physical pain I was in. Each beat of my heart pulsated through my swollen fingertips. My back ached down into my legs as I shook the dirty dregs of water from the base of the bucket. Only minutes before, Lilith and the girls returned from town. She made it quite clear she was expecting supper soon and my daily chores weren’t even halfway finished.

  I wanted to cry but I pressed my jaw tight to hold it in. I needed to stay strong, if only for my sanity.

  “Psst.”

  A hissing voice from the thicket of butterfly bushes startled me. Gasping, I dropped the bucket. It clanged and crunched on the wet gravel. I whipped around to see if Lilith’s sharp face appeared in any of the windows, then turned back to see my only friend peeking out from behind the bush, her hand over her mouth. Her apple cheeks glowed. I could tell staving off the belly full of laughter threatening to erupt from her was proving difficult. The tendons in my neck tensed and pulled on my already sore shoulders.

  “Anjelina. What are you doing here? Lilith will skin me alive if she catches you.”

  I gestured for her to follow me, and we scampered across the garden into the barn. I swung the door closed after I stared at the windows and doors of the house for any sign of Lilith and the girls. My throat pulsed as I swallowed over and over.

  “I’m so sorry, Ella. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m just so excited.” Her eyes lit up like a sunburst.

  “Shh. Keep it down.” I said, but couldn’t help cracking a smile to see her so giddy.

  Anjelina giggled between gritted teeth. She jumped up and down like an excited toddler. “I came to bring you this,” she whispered, shoving a roll of parchment stamped with the blue royal seal into my hand. “Read it. Read it. You aren’t going to believe it.”

  Curious, I untied the silver ribbon from around the scroll and rolled it open.

  King Francis and his honored son, the Prince of Wallachia,

  cordially invite all maidens of the kingdom over the age of seventeen to join them

  in celebrating his coming of age at a grand ball on the 31st day of October.

  The gallant Prince Greyson wishes to choose a maiden to accompany him

  for the evening. As such, we request you wear your most exquisite finery and

  present yourself at the castle at 8:00 p.m. Please RSVP

  The words rose from the page, as if speaking directly to me. A swell of capricious excitement roused, only to be overshadowed by a pang of sorrow that bubbled in a pool of bitter acid and settled into my heart.

  A ball, a grand ball at the castle of the king for all the maidens in the kingdom includes me. But how can I even think about going?

  I stared down at the parchment again, the events of that fateful day one year ago flashing in my memory.

  “Ella, are you alright?” Anjelina placed her hand on my arm. My dear friend and neighbor from the time we were old enough to walk, she remained my only friend after Father’s death. Lilith, Gisella, and Ophelia, of course, didn’t approve of my having any sort of friendship, so our secret encounters were few.

  “Yes,” I cleared the emotion from my throat. “This sounds lovely for the maidens of our kingdom. Are you planning to attend?”

  She gave me the look.

  “Ella, it says all the maidens over the age of seventeen. All the maidens. You know what this means, don’t you? Prince Greyson is looking for you. You saved his life that day. This is his way of contacting you.”

  I huffed.

  I want to believe you, Anj, I really do. But I’d be more of a fool than I already am.

  “Anj, he was delirious, and I didn’t save his life. I just helped him until real help came. He wouldn’t be look
ing for me. I doubt he would even recognize me if he saw me. I mean, look at me.”

  A piece of greasy hair fell into my face. I swept it back behind my ear and inspected a piece of stray straw under my foot. Anjelina put her hands on my shoulders.

  “Yes, he would, and you’re going. I’ll help you. Mother has loads of beautiful gowns. Let me sneak you into the ball. You know I can do it. My cousins Jacque and Gus are chefs in the royal kitchen. They have a lot of friends there. I know they can help me pull this off.”

  I eyeballed my foot again and noticed a smudge of manure across the toe of my scuffed, dirty shoe.

  “Come on, you’re already so beautiful. Once I’m done adding my special mix of sugar and spice, you’ll not only get the prince to remember you but the entire castle will be clamoring for a dance with you.”

  She caressed my matted hair and put her finger under my chin, gently pulling it upward. I turned from her, the rank smell of the barn and the day’s chores wafting from my clothes. I fidgeted with a tear in my skirt.

  “Anjelina, you know what Lilith would do if she found out I even considered attending this ball, let alone carried through with it. She would—”

  She snorted and waved her hands in the air. “Lock you up and throw away the key? Yeah, yeah, she’s evil and malicious and could ruin your life.” Her arms flailed in the air in all directions. “Well, look around, how much worse can it get? She’s made you her slave, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You know what I think,” said Anjelina, rolling her eyes. She took the scroll of parchment from my hands. “I think you’re afraid of what could happen if you did go. You and the prince had a moment. I’m positive he’d remember you. You could be his soulmate, you know live happily ever after? Get away from this horrible place and that poor excuse for a woman.”

  I saw the fervor in Anjelina’s eyes and I dearly loved her for it. A spark of hope ignited in my heavy heart. I wondered if we could really pull it off. If, somehow, the prince would remember me. If, by some crazy miracle, I could escape this life of servitude and guilt, somehow forgive myself enough to give happiness a chance.