Cinderella Dreams of Fire (Fairy Tales Forever #1)

by Casey Lane

  "And the inevitable result of that bedding sits before you on the prowl to bed someone himself."

  The men slapped each other on the shoulder and took gulps from their beverages. Meanwhile, Braedon analyzed the direction of the blur in his mind. It was headed for the back of the building.

  "So let's raise our glasses to Braedon!"

  The gang called out his name and raised their glasses. Braedon did the same as he looked up toward the ceiling.

  Falstone smiled like a proud father. “Here's to a new generation of bad behavior."

  "Hear, hear!"

  As the crowd drank, Braedon wondered if the guards knew they were being watched by two people that night.

  He spoke in a soft tone that no one in the bar could hear. “Looks like this night could get exciting after all."

  Chapter 4

  Cinderella listened to the alcohol-infused laughter as she scaled the building unseen. Her fingers and feet easily found their grip along the side of the tavern. Unlike most missions the Godmother sent her on, this one gave her a hint of nervousness.

  "You've retrieved plenty of items for her, Elle. This one is no different.” Her boots found a resting spot beside the window to the second floor. She peered inside and watched a group of guards stand in their posts. Even without their official attire, she immediately recognized them as the queen’s soldiers.

  “Great. That’s a nice detail you decided to leave out.” She wiped the sweat from her palms onto her black cloak. “It’s only 10 years of prison if I get caught. No pressure."

  Cinderella had faced thousands of hours of training before her mentor let her go on her first mission at the age of 16. It was exhilarating to go from punching dummies made of straw to taking out abusive husbands. She'd personally foiled more than half a dozen assassination attempts by the seedy underbelly of the village. It was strange to be working against the royal family, but the Godmother had given Cinderella far too much for her to question her trainer's methods.

  She took one last glance inside the window to plot her attack. As her mentor had taught, she pictured it all in her head with a long, deep breath. All the nervous energy she stored inside exited into the cold night air.

  She smiled with confidence. “Showtime.”

  Cinderella patiently pulled open the window and slipped inside without the guards noticing. She tiptoed along what she assumed were creaky floorboards, though her agility kept any sounds from being made. There was just enough shadow for her to crouch in the corner and watch. The queen's men were in the middle of a long hallway. Two of them stood in front of a door that no doubt led to her objective. She spied another two milling about on the other side of the floor, and she had to figure there were at least a couple more in the room.

  She saw a half-empty pint glass all the way at the other end of the hall. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a small stone.

  Cinderella rolled the round projectile between her fingers. “Nothing gets the attention of men quite like spilled ale.

  She wound up and threw the stone past the unsuspecting guards and directly into the side of the glass. The shattering sound was more than enough to get their attention.

  As they both turned to mourn the tragedy, Cinderella snuck behind them and took two lightning-fast swipes with her sword. The blade cut through their scabbards, sending their weapons clattering to the ground.”

  When they jumped and faced her, she met their astonished looks with a smile. “Hello, boys."

  They rushed her. The heavier of the two tripped over his own weapon and slammed on his elbows. As the other one bent over to grab his sword, Cinderella struck. First, she kicked him square in the top of the head. After he stumbled backward, she pursued, grabbing hold of either side of his head and wrenching him to the floor. His forehead met the wood and both cracked in response. He groaned as he tried to recover. The guard swung his sword so hard that when Cinderella avoided it with ease, the weapon stuck into the wall.

  She laughed as he tried unsuccessfully to pull it free. “I guess you just don't know your own strength."

  He left the blade in the wall and charged for her. With two swift movements, she punched him in the gut and elbowed him in the back of the neck. He joined his friend in the unconscious club on the ground.

  Two additional guards came sprinting from the other end of the floor, their boots crushing the broken glass on their way toward her.

  As they screamed and ran, she calculated. At just the right moment, she leapt high above their outstretched swords. Cinderella flipped once in midair and landed in a crouch behind them; before they had a chance to turn, she swept their legs out from under them. With two more kicks, she had their swords sliding across the floorboards until they hit the other end of the hall. When they attempted to rise, Cinderella slammed their heads into one another. They landed back on the ground with a thump.

  She loved the feeling of her heart speeding up. “So far, so good."

  Cinderella listened to the sounds of the remaining two guards readying themselves for an onslaught inside the room. She tried the room next door to them. Finding it empty, she thanked the stars above that she didn't break in on any extracurricular activities.

  Cinderella shut the door gently behind her, walked to the wall furthest from the guard room, leaned on her right hand, and prepared her shoulder. “This is going to be either incredible or incredibly stupid."

  She sprinted for the wall and crashed her shoulder through the paper-thin barrier. Her body cut through like it was butter. As parchment and wood broke apart in front of her, she saw the frightened guards standing by the door. Both of them dropped their swords and put their hands up.

  One with the slightest hint of a mustache spoke with a quiver in his voice. “Just take it. It's in the drawer. Please don't hurt us."

  Cinderella smirked beneath her mask. “Don't mind if I do."

  She opened the drawer and placed the pouch in her pocket. With three swift strides across the room, she leapt over the bed and reached the window.

  Cinderella opened it and took a step onto the ledge before turning back. “You two may want to punch each other and tell them I did it. Just a suggestion."

  She heard the two guards scuffling as she pulled herself up to the roof.

  Cinderella rolled out her shoulder and gathered herself in the darkness. She placed her hand inside her pocket and felt the jewel in her palm. It was warm.

  "The queen and the Godmother both want it. It's gotta be a weapon, right?”

  From the other side of the roof, a man cleared his throat. She let go of the jewel and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.

  "I hear thieves aren't well-tolerated in this kingdom."

  Cinderella stood up straight and faced the man. Even in the nearly pitch black of the midnight sky, she was able to make out his features.

  "Neither are drunks, from what I hear.” She tightened her grip. “Begging your pardon, Prince Braedon."

  Chapter 5

  Cinderella watched the surprise spread across the face of the queen's son. She'd seen him paraded around the village in his youth, though his role in raising village support had diminished a bit in the last two years. From what she'd heard, he was getting support from the village the old-fashioned way.

  The prince laughed. “You have good eyes, thief. It's a shame you didn't become a soldier."

  His voice was kinder than his reputation, and his handsome face outdid both. She expected him to be skinny and sickly-looking, but he must've fit in some training between beers, because he packed a fair bit of muscle on his arms and his legs. Cinderella told herself she was only looking at his body to assess his weak points.

  "Judging by the skill of the men I just defeated below, the training of a thief may suit me better."

  He took a step toward her, and she inched the sword out of her scabbard.

  Braedon put up his hands. “I don't have a weapon, aside from my charm, of course."

  She scoffed and put
her weapon back in the holster. “Aren't you just too predictable?"

  The prince smiled, his teeth glowing white in the dark night. “I wish I could see under your mask. I want to know more about you."

  Cinderella knew she had a little bit of time; after all, few soldiers had the agility to reach the rooftop. She wondered how long it would be before the bowmen assembled to try to flush her to ground level.

  She took a step closer. “My apologies if I want to keep this conversation one-sided, but I have someplace to be."

  "Please, you're already the most interesting person I've ever met. A lady thief who can easily take out half a dozen men. Hearing your story would surely beat the same old bar tales I'm always hearing."

  She shook her head. “But how could I be more interesting than you, Prince? A man with all the choices in the world who opts to slum it in the village, hanging out with the seediest of characters, and bedding everyone who comes to mind. One might assume you're compensating for something."

  He chuckled and lowered his stance. She wondered how long it would take to bring the court-trained fighter to his knees.

  "You know, I may have you all figured out, too. You have all the telltale signs of a scorned orphan. Someone took you under their wing to train you, but you don't even know what you're fighting for.” He bit his lip. “I'll bet you don't even know what's in that pouch."

  Cinderella grumbled as she heard the footsteps of men coming toward the tavern. The steps were too well synced for them to be normal villagers. Reinforcements had arrived.

  She sighed. “Oh, noble Prince. You have figured out everything about me, and now I will give up this life of crime and crawl into your bed.” She matched her fighting stance to his. “Why don't we get this started, lover?”

  He danced back and forth on his toes. “A fight on the first date. Doesn't seem like a good sign."

  As he leaned forward, Cinderella whipped her back leg around and came within an inch of his face. When he ducked back, she came in low and cracked her fist into his chest. Before she could pull her arm back, the prince caught her wrist and twisted her arm against the joint.

  He pressed her wrist toward her shoulder. “Nice technique."

  She grunted and did a full backflip to get her arm going the right way again. As he marveled at her acrobatics, she broke the grip, took his own wrist, and secured it behind his back.

  Cinderella pulled his arm against the socket. “I don't have to hurt you. Just stay down and look the other way."

  The prince struggled to break free. “Why would we end the date so early?"

  He loosened his shoulders just enough to worm his way out. But when he spun toward Cinderella, she met him with an incredibly fast succession of five punches. He blocked the first two, but the other three found their mark on both cheeks and right under his chin. As he staggered back, she almost felt bad for damaging such a pretty face. Almost.

  Braedon rubbed at his jaw. “I can't tell if I'm in love or about to pass out."

  Cinderella rolled her eyes. “I think I know which one."

  As she went for the knockout blow, the prince easily sidestepped the punch. He caught her with two quick elbows and a jab to the midsection. Adrenaline coursed through her as she countered with three jabs of her own. One of the strikes found its mark so expertly, she could see the prince's eye begin to swell.

  He continued to swagger as if he had the upper hand. “I truly am having a lot of fun."

  "Are you sure that isn't the ale talking?"

  "No, I'm not."

  Cinderella smiled as Braedon came at her with a flurry of quick punches. She counted at least seven, and she feinted or ducked every single one. She came back with blows of her own, all of which connected with flesh and bone. As the prince started to lose his footing, she kicked him in the gut, sending his feet backward and his face to the floor.

  He somehow groaned and laughed at the same time. “Best two out of three?"

  She looked down to the front of the building, where the archers had assembled.

  Cinderella admired the prince's stalling. She pulled his hair to get a look at his eyes. They were extremely blue and deeply inviting. She refused the invitation. “Don't follow me."

  "Who are you?"

  "Just a common thief.” She winked, and then took a running dash toward the edge of the roof and leapt away onto the next building.

  Chapter 6

  Cinderella felt around in the dark of the creepy, old building where she'd spent so many of her midnights. Even though she'd passed so much time there that she could make it through most of the training area and the surrounding rooms by touch alone, she actually knew very little about the woman who'd pulled her out of the lowest point of her life.

  Cinderella's fingers brushed one of the old practice dummies she'd spent years pounding upon. She felt the tattered stitches of the roughly woven face, remembering how often she'd pictured the inanimate opponent as her sister, as her stepmother, and as her father. She'd punched and punched until her knuckles were raw and bloody. On those nights, the Godmother had been the one to gently ease her hands away and into a bucket of ice.

  Her hands could use the ice today after slamming so hard into the prince's bone and muscle. He was thicker than he looked, and one of the reasons she hated fighting drunks was that they needed an extra few punches to take them down.

  This wasn't just any drunk, though. It was the Crown Prince of Loren, and he was standing between her and her mission.

  Why'd you have me steal from the queen? What is this thing?

  Cinderella's hand moved along the practice area and made contact with the weapon rack. She recalled the pride at mastering every one-handed, two-handed, and long-distance tool of war the Godmother possessed. Her late nights of training even included using random objects she might find along the way. She'd become so handy with a shovel, she sometimes preferred it to a halberd or mace.

  Nowadays, she only practiced once or twice a week. The rest of the time was dedicated to missions that served some greater purpose.

  Not that I'll ever know what that purpose is.

  Her fingers traced along the wall just the right number of paces from the rack and found the lantern. As she illuminated the room, she was hardly surprised to see the stoic face of the Godmother staring right back at her. As usual, she seemed to materialize out of thin air.

  The woman spoke as if she were holding something back. “Do you have it?"

  Cinderella had never been able to determine her mentor's age. It was like she was preserved in the sweet spot of middle-age, and her face had barely acknowledged the passage of time in the decade they'd been training. Aside from a thin, gray line of hair down the side of her cheek, the woman seemed to have found the secret to defeat aging. It wouldn't be the only secret she'd kept from her protégé.

  "Of course.” Cinderella stretched her achy fist as she pulled out the pouch. “I think at this point I know better than to come back without completing a mission."

  She pulled the stone out of the bag and felt it in her hand. It was even warmer than it had seemed before. The lantern made the red gem glisten. It wasn't the prettiest item she'd obtained for the Godmother, but it did seem to hold some kind of mysterious power. She could feel it in the way it seemed to change its temperature. She could feel it in the way the Godmother looked at it: with fear and hope in equal measure.

  Her mentor gestured and Cinderella placed it in her hand. The Godmother turned the gem over with her fingers and held it up to her eye.

  "You know, a little validation on this one would be nice. It wasn't the easiest thing to get."

  The Godmother continued examining the stone. “Yes, I heard. Half the village is talking about a thief battling Prince Braedon on a rooftop. Your stealth is commendable."

  Cinderella put her hands on her hips. “I could've ended it before any spectators started watching, but I didn't think you wanted any princes thrown off the roof."

  Her mentor ignored
her and walked swiftly to a desk where she began scribbling a note on a piece of parchment.

  "Did you want princes thrown off rooftops?"

  "No."

  Cinderella snorted. “Good. I'm so glad we had this talk."

  She began to walk away until the Godmother cleared her throat. “I need you to do one last thing today."

  Her protégé stopped in her tracks and sighed. In the silence, Cinderella felt the bruise forming on her shoulder from her earlier effort to break through the wall. She waited for her mentor to finish the note.

  The Godmother placed the gem back in its pouch and handed it and the parchment toward Cinderella. “I want you to give this to Tristan.”

  Cinderella raised an eyebrow. “So it's a weapon?"

  "Of sorts."

  She looked her mentor in the eye. “Is the reason I never get answers from you because you don't trust me?"

  The Godmother walked back over to her desk and sat down. It was only after a few moments of quiet that she answered.

  "You'll get answers when you're ready for them.”

  Cinderella picked at her nails. “I know you're not going to tell me, but I might as well ask why. I did take down six soldiers and a drunken prince. Not exactly a snatch and grab."

  "If the queen truly knew what she had, she would've doubled the number of guards."

  "That's comforting."

  The Godmother sighed and pushed away from her desk. She slowly glided over and put her hand on Cinderella's shoulder. “Just take it to Tristan. I promise some things are about to become clear for the first time in your life."

  Cinderella looked away. “Uh huh."

  Her mentor reached for Cinderella's chin and pointed her face upward. “You did a good job tonight. Thank you."

  Cinderella's heart fluttered with affirmation, as much as she didn't want to admit it. She nodded and tucked the items away.