by Aron Lewes
“Yes. They've gotten a bit longer than I like.” Gideon wiggled his toes. “Kneel beside my feet and get to clipping, please.”
Cinderella's nose was twisted by a permanent sneer as she dropped to her knees near Gideon's feet.
“Please be gentle with my toenails!” Gideon coached her as she brought the clippers to his toes. “And do not clip them too far down.”
Cinda whispered her reply. “Alright.” Her expression soured as she made her first snip.
“What's it like to be Prince Sharman's fiance?” Gideon asked between bites of stew. “Is it as awful as I think it would be? Is he boring? Does he annoy you?”
“Sharman is... not bad.”
Gideon's head snapped back as he cackled. “Not bad. Not bad? Ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa!” The prince laughed until tears flowed down his cheeks. “Oh, that's hilarious. Not bad is such a lackluster opinion, especially from the woman who is supposed to become his wife!”
“He's... handsome,” Cinderella tried again. “He treats me kindly.”
“And you obviously don't give a damn about him.” Gideon suddenly raised a monocle to his eye. He used the magnifying eyepiece to check the status of his feet. “Clip that toenail again, please. It's uneven. And try to collect the clippings. I don't want them scattered around my room!”
Gideon's pretty attendants secretly seethed as they carried out his orders to the best of their ability. When the bowl was empty and his toenails were trimmed, the prince sat up, stretched, and yawned.
“I need Rose to go away, and I want Cinderella to stay,” Gideon declared. “I only need one of you to tuck me into bed... and since I don't want a soiled princess anywhere near my bed, the choice is obvious.” Gideon gave a nod to Stewart, who steered a cursing Princess Rose to the door.
“Sharman has excellent taste in women, I'll give him that,” Gideon said as he rose from the sofa. “If I was looking for a wife, I'd choose you for myself. Turn down the blankets, please.”
Cinderella folded down Gideon's blankets with a sorrowful sigh.
As the prince climbed into bed, he continued, “Perhaps I should look for a wife. I'm only fifteen, so I thought I'd wait a bit longer. However, I quite like the idea of stealing Sharman's fiance. I could take you for myself if I wanted to. Now... pull the blankets to my shoulders, please.”
Cinda's eyes rolled as she tugged the blankets over the young prince's body.
“This bed isn't comfortable,” Gideon complained. “It feels like there's something under the mattress. It's very small, so I could try to ignore it, but... I'm rather sensitive to these things.” Gideon leapt from bed and ordered Stewart to check beneath the mattress. His bodyguard spotted and dispelled the tiniest pebble before Gideon climbed back in. As soon as he laid back down, his grimace was erased.
“That's much better!” the prince exclaimed. “Tuck me in again, Cinderella. And do it quickly, please. I'm getting tired!”
Cinderella smoothed wrinkles from the blankets as she pulled them over Prince Gideon once again.
“Will you sing to me?” Gideon requested.
Cinda chuckled nervously. “Uh... sing? Like a lullaby?”
The prince shook his head and yawned. “Never mind. You don't have to. Besides, I might not like your voice. What if I'm up all night, thinking about how terrible you were?” When Cinda stepped away from his bedside, Gideon quickly called her back. “Nuh uh uh! You weren't dismissed yet! Before you go, comb back my hair and kiss my forehead. It's what Mummy used to do.”
“Ummm...” Cinda's lip curled as she leaned over Gideon's bed. “I... suppose I could do that?”
She pushed back the prince's floppy fringe and quickly brushed her lips across his forehead.
“Good. That was good!” he praised her. “And now you are dismissed. Farewell, Cinderella. I shall see you tomorrow morning.”
His favorite attendant groaned at the thought.
“Elliot!” Princess Rose squeaked the prince's name as she shuffled up to him. She was followed by a guard, who had been tasked with watching her every move. “Elliot, please! I need your help!”
Elliot, who had only bad memories of his former fiance, couldn't suppress his sneer. “Oh? And what do you need from me?”
The princess lowered her voice and hissed, “I need you to save me!” Rose peeked at the guard who hovered behind her, then she turned her attention back to Elliot. “Look, I know I wasn't always kind to you, but can you really ignore a damsel in distress? Gideon is making me do terrible things!”
Elliot tried to ignore the part of his mind that told him she deserved it. With an exhausted sigh, he asked, “What is Gideon doing, and what do you expect me to do about it?”
“Get me out of here! I'm your soulmate, remember? You must help!” Rose lowered her voice so the guard wouldn't hear. However, unbeknownst to her, there was a fly on her shoulder, and it heard every word. “Gideon keeps his attendants chained to their beds at night! We're followed constantly. I barely have a moment of privacy, and the prince asks me to do the strangest things!”
There was barely a flicker of sympathy on Prince Elliot's face. Nevertheless, he asked, “Such as?”
“He asks me to cool his soup and comb his hair. I can't stand it, Elliot! I don't want to be a prince's maidservant! I don't deserve this!”
Before Elliot could respond again, the guard pushed Princess Rose down the hall. “Get movin'!” the man croaked as he propelled the princess forward.
He led her to the throne room, where Prince Gideon was surrounded by four of his attendants. As he sat on the silver throne, his attendants fluttered fans beside his cheeks.
“Ah! Rose!” Gideon called to her. “I'm glad you're here. Grab a fan and join the others. It's so hot today, my skin is sticky. Until there's snow outside, I'll fail to understand why this place is called the Winter Palace.”
Rose grabbed a fan and joined the mob of frowning attendants. It was her second day as Gideon's servant, and she was trying to keep her protests to a minimum. As long as she was compliant, the prince stopped threatening her.
“You know, this throne actually hurts my bum a bit,” Gideon complained as he wiggled uncomfortably. “Oh well. At least I won't be sweating anymore. With all five of you fanning me, I'm sure I'll cool down eventually.” Gideon tugged on the collar of his shirt, which was stained in perspiration. “Bring in Sharman's guards, please!”
The throne room doors opened with a rattle, and nearly a hundred uniformed men sauntered into the throne room. Most were hanging their heads in shame. Fenix, who was in fly form, watched them gather in a line. He was surprised to find a few familiar faces. In the front of the line, he saw Bruno, the guard whose form he could assume. In the middle of the line, he saw Rank, who was the only guard who hadn't lost his smile.
“Swear your loyalty to me!” Gideon demanded as the first guard sank to his knees in front of the throne.
“I swear to be loyal to you, Your Highness,” the guard dejectedly replied.
“Good... next!” As the first guard rose, a second one shuffled forward. “Swear your loyalty to me!”
Fenix watched from Rose's shoulder. When he saw Rank unwrapping a peppermint stick, he rolled his many eyes.
“Swear your loyalty to me!” Gideon demanded of Bruno, whose long beard grazed the floor when he knelt.
“I swear my loyalty to you.” With a shrug, the brawny guard added, “I guess.”
“You guess?” Gideon chuckled. “Oh well. I'll accept it. Next!”
One by one, Prince Sharman's guards ambled forward and dropped to their knees. Apparently, most didn't care which prince they served. Rank, who was never a fan of Sharman, had no problem parroting the phrase with the rest of the guards.
“Swear your loyalty to me!” Gideon demanded as Rank knelt.
“Alright,” Rank answered with a mouthful of peppermint. “I swear to be loyal to you, mate.”
Fenix had officially seen and heard enough. He left Rose's shoulder and flew under a crack
in the door. He returned to the guards' quarters and waited—in mouse form—until nightfall. When it was dark, he departed and headed to Cinda's room. Along the way, he passed Princess Rose yet again.
“He made me cut up his steak!” Rose whined to the knight that followed her, despite his obvious disinterest. “Then me made me shovel mashed potatoes into his mouth! Isn't that just awful? It's no way to treat a princess! It's reprehensible! It's--”
When Fenix slipped under Cinda's door, he breathed a sigh of relief. He needed a break from Princess Rose's squawking.
Cinda, who was already shackled to her bed, was staring at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. Manacles around her ankles kept her bolted to the bedpost. As soon as Fenix shifted into human form, she sat up with a gasp.
“Fenix!” She was so relieved to see him, a tear skipped down her cheek. As she swatted it away, she begged, “Please tell me you're here to help!”
“I am.” Fenix collected Prince Sharman's skeleton key from the floor. The skull-shaped key was infinitely easier to lift when he wasn't in mouse form.
Cinda's nose puckered as she studied the key. “What's that?”
“It's a magic key. I swiped it from Prince Sharman several days ago,” Fenix explained as he sat near Cinda's feet.
“Oh. I think he mentioned something about a key. He whined to me about losing it.”
Fenix held his breath as he tried the key on her manacles. When he heard a loud click, a relieved sigh spilled from his mouth. As soon as she was freed from her chains, Cinderella threw her arms around him.
“Thank god you're here!” she cried. “To be honest, I've been feeling sorry for myself all day. I already spent years as my stepmother's servant. I didn't want to be Gideon's servant as well!”
“He didn't hurt you, did he?” When their embrace ended, Fenix cupped her cheeks in his hands.
“Physically? No. Mentally, however, he caused me a great deal of distress!” Cinda closed her eyes and savored the feeling of Fenix's fingers caressing her face. “This morning, I had to bathe him!”
“Ugh!” Fenix pulled back his hands with a grunt. “Did you see him naked?”
“No. He was wearing his undergarments in the bath... thank god...” Cinderella rubbed her ankle. There were marks on her flesh where the manacle had encompassed it. “Now... how are we going to get out of here? It isn't as if I can walk through the palace's front door!”
“It's alright. I already have a plan.” Fenix pocketed the skeleton key as he rose from Cinda's bed. “You wouldn't mind riding on a giant bird... would you?”
“That is a question I never thought I'd hear,” Cinda laughed. “But... no. If riding on your back would get me out of here, I certainly wouldn't mind.”
“Alright. I'm going to shatter the wall,” Fenix warned her. “Get in the closet for a moment. I wouldn't want you to get hit by any flying stones.”
As Sharman's fiance, she should have been horrified by his plan to rip a hole in the Winter Palace's wall, but Cinda made no objection. She slipped into the closet and watched Fenix through a crack in the door.
Golden light cradled Fenix as his body shifted into a bird's. His arms flapped furiously as they were replaced by wings. “I wonder if it hurts...” Cinderella whispered to herself as she studied his changing body.
When the shift was complete, Fenix's body glowed again. With an ear-piercing screech, he flew forward and hit the windowed wall with as much force as he possibly could. Cinda suppressed a squeal as the wall was blown apart. The closet shielded her from a hurricane of flying rubble and broken glass.
Fenix somersaulted in midair and returned to Cinda's room. As he descended, he tried to call her out with a flick of his wing.
“This is madness,” Cinda whispered as she exited the closet. “Complete madness. A month ago, I had no idea my life would be like this.” Her face was twisted by fear as she climbed onto Fenix's back and seized his slender neck. “Please don't drop me!” she begged.
Fenix tried to tell her to hold on tight, but all he could do was screech. He took flight as gently as he could and hoped her grip was strong.
Seconds later, six armed guards rushed into Cinderella's room. Their swords were drawn, their eyes were wide, and their mouths gaped at the massive hole in the wall.
Fenix left them with a single clue.
There was an orange feather on the floor, and it hadn't yet lost its glow.
When Donnabella's dozenth “itinerantus dissipatia” of the day sent them nowhere, Prince Sharman suddenly lost his patience with her. “You know, for someone who is supposedly an all-powerful witch... you're actually rubbish at casting magic.”
They had been hiking across the desert for over an hour, baked by a blistering sun. Sharman's seared shoulders were red and glistening, the bottoms of his feet were raw, and he barely had the strength to keep his blanket aloft. It was too short and tattered to wrap all the way around his body, so he had to be mindful of the blanket's position at all times. He didn't fancy the idea of exposing his bum to the witch.
“I am not rubbish!” Donnabella defended herself. “You saw what I did to the dragon, didn't you?”
“Hmm. Yes. That was impressive,” Sharman apathetically commended her. “However, I haven't seen you do anything particularly impressive since then.”
Sharman was a few paces ahead of her, so Donnabella glared at his back. “Turning you into a frog wasn't impressive?”
“No. It was the opposite of impressive. It was awful.”
“Warping us halfway across the world wasn't impressive?”
“No!” Sharman snorted at the thought. “Are you serious? That was a mistake. And you haven't been able to duplicate your little warping spell since then.”
Donnabella kicked the sand in frustration. “Oooo... if only I had a wand! I usually don't need one, but it would help. I think my magic's been weakened by a variety of things.”
“Such as?” He invited her to share her woes.
“Well, to begin with, I gave Fenix a new form. That always saps me.” Donnabella increased her pace so she could walk beside the prince. “Furthermore, sucking a dragon into a vortex was quite exhausting... it might be difficult to recover from that as well.”
Sharman pretended to nod in agreement. “Right. I can imagine. It shouldn't be a problem for the most powerful witch in the world, though.”
Donnabella jabbed his sunburnt shoulder, making him clench his teeth. “What would you know about magic, Prince Sharman? You have no idea what witches are and are not capable of! Besides... I keep thinking about Fenix and Cinderella. It's killed my concentration.”
“Do you really care about that young man?” the prince asked.
Donnabella's answer was delayed when she spotted a bright red lizard skittering through the sand. She whispered a growth spell, hoping the lizard would expand to such a size that she could use it as her mount. However, it barely grew more than an inch. Her magic truly wasn't what it used to be.
“Do you?” Sharman insisted on an answer. “Do you care about him?”
“I do. Fenix is adorable and kind, and he's too good for Cinderella.” Donnabella stuck out her bottom lip. “Why is everyone so obsessed with that girl? Can you explain her appeal, because I'm honestly baffled.”
“Well... Cinderella is beautiful.” When Sharman spoke her name, he was surprised by how little his heart was stirred. The mere mention of her used to make his pulse race. “But... if she's in love with What's-His-Name, I can't marry her. When we return to the Winter Palace, I think I'll end our engagement.”
“Hmph. That was fast.” Donnabella chuckled. “Your love dies quickly, Your Highness.”
Sharman haughtily corrected her. “My love isn't dead, but it has taken a hit. Is it really so strange that I would not marry a girl who wants another man?” When the desert wind blew, he nearly lost his grip on the blanket. The tatty cloth almost slipped from his fingers. With a frightened squeak, the prince pulled it back up.
&nb
sp; “Then... perhaps it's time to release Fenix from his curse as well,” Donnabella mused. A few seconds later, her eyes narrowed. “Or not. Maybe I should make him suffer. He'll be in love with the girl, but he'll never get to be with her.”
Sharman's fingers tightened their grip on his blanket. “Well... that's rather rude.” He flashed a sneer in Donnabella's direction. “If they love each other, you should let them be together.”
“Are you serious?” Donnabella shrieked. “Are you hearing yourself right now? You think I should let your fiance and my Fenix be together? Your love for Cinderella really has gone cold, Your Highness.”
Before he could reply, they were interrupted by a strange chant.
“Heave ho... heave heave ho... heave ho... heave heave ho.”
When Donnabella turned around, she gasped. Seven stout dwarfs were toting a large king carrier down a distant, sandy hill. The human-powered vehicle was attached to poles and enclosed by plush curtains. It looked like small carriage, but it was hauled by men instead of horses.
“Help!” Donnabella lifted the hem of her dress as she raced toward the dwarfs. “Help us! Please! We're dying of thirst! Oh god, please help!” Sharman tried to chase after her, but when the blanket almost slipped from his fingers again, he had to reduce his pace.
When the dwarfs slowed and set down the king carrier, Donnabella dropped to her knees with relief. “Thank you!” she cried. “We don't know where we are! We're lost! We--”
“Sharman?” a deep voice boomed from the vehicle's interior. The king carrier's curtains fluttered as its rider checked their faces. “Prince Sharman, is that you?”
It took Sharman a moment to recognize the voice. “Emperor Regus?”
“Indeed,” the deep voice answered. “I haven't seen you in ages, Prince Sharman. Why are you wandering around the desert?”
Emperor Regus was peeking at them from the other side of the curtain, so they had yet to see his face. Sharman could only assume he was chatting with his father's old friend. “It's... a very long story, Your Grace.” As he gave his answer, Sharman glared at Donnabella. “However, I am lost, and I require transportation. Could you take us back to Obanon, perhaps?