Defiant: A Cinderella Retelling (Tales of Cinder Book 1)
Page 8
“I think I’ll go for a walk and visit Mother,” I said.
Judith absently nodded and went inside.
My feet carried me down the familiar path through the trees, and I stopped at the sight of Mother’s grave. The sapling, which had been the length of my forearm when I planted it, now stretched to the height of my hips. No longer was it a single shoot but an actual small tree with several branches that jutted several inches from the thin trunk.
I moved closer, knowing there was only one explanation for the tree’s rapid growth. Yet, there was no tingle or unnatural spark when I gently touched a branch. Staring at the tree, I hoped it wasn’t born from the unnatural magic that had claimed my mother’s life but rather from the love that had once nurtured us.
“Be at peace, Mother. Know that we are well and continue to love you, too,” I said softly before continuing on.
Unlike the prior evening, the king’s estate lay quiet. There was no wagon in the yard or restless horses. The lack of movement and noise made the entire thing feel sinister.
I debated sneaking inside but didn’t trust the unexpected silence. Rubbing my arms, I leaned against the tree and huddled further into the warmth of my cloak. I stayed like that until my fingers and nose grew cold then gave up and started home.
It wasn’t the building that interested me but the people within. There was no point lingering if there were no people to observe. My thoughts went to Kaven instead of the delivery boy, and I hurried away.
Creeping down the stairs, I listened to the soft murmur of voices as I carefully edged my way along the wall. Kellen wasn’t even out of bed yet. I couldn’t imagine Maeve was too pleased with whomever thought to call at this hour.
Successfully reaching the dining room without detection, I slipped inside and went to the kitchen. The warmth of the room enveloped me.
“It’s a bit early for a visitor, isn’t it?” I asked, looking for my breakfast.
Anne moved about the kitchen in a bit of a frenzy.
“It is. Judith and I aren’t yet ready.”
“Can I help?”
“Please.”
She set me to work while she started something for breakfast. I didn’t mind rolling out pastry dough and cutting the required shapes under Anne’s instruction, but it wasn’t something Judith typically entrusted to anyone.
“Where is Judith?” I asked after I stacked the first set of thin dough disks. Layered with berries, it looked like it would become a delicate, towering treat once baked.
“I’m not sure. She wasn’t here when I woke. I think she might have gone to town again to check with the cook about this recipe. There’s nothing noted to sweeten it. I know Judith wanted it to be just right to impress Maeve, but I can’t wait. We need something to serve the guests.”
“What if we sprinkle a bit of sugar on the top?” I asked. “I’ve seen Judith glaze dough with the whites of an egg to get mint leaves to stick. We could do that to get the sugar to stick.”
Anne paused her sorting of berries to consider it.
“We’ll do half that way,” she said. “On the chance it doesn’t work well.”
I nodded and started glazing and sugaring. In no time, the treats were baking in the oven, and I was at the table eating my egg.
Kellen strolled into the kitchen just after I cracked my shell. She had dark circles under her eyes and yawned as she walked.
“It’s a bit early for visitors, isn’t it?” she said, echoing my earlier question.
I grinned as Anne snorted.
“Sometimes, I swear the pair of you speak to each other with your minds.”
“That would be a helpful trick,” I said.
“Unfortunately, such a trait would likely see us sent to the forest,” Kellen said, smothering another yawn. “Is there an extra egg?”
I took pity on her and fetched an egg.
“You were in bed before I was,” I said. “How can you be so tired?”
Kellen shrugged and started eating. I considered her for a moment and knew I couldn’t allow her to stay in the house another day. She wasn’t doing well, and it had nothing to do with Mother’s letters. I’d noticed it yesterday, too, in the way she’d been more subdued than usual.
“Since there’s a visitor,” I said. “Would you like to walk to town with me? We can visit the bookseller and find something to ease our boredom.”
“That’s a fair distance to walk while carrying books,” she said.
“Judith likely took the wagon. We can meet her and gain a ride home.”
“Then, a visit to the bookseller sounds like the thing.” Kellen took a bite of her egg and nodded as if agreeing with herself.
As soon as we finished and helped Anne take the pretty pastries out of the oven, we left. The sun was out and the breeze absent for a nice change. I breathed deeply and tipped my head back.
“This is perfect.”
“It is,” Kellen agreed.
We’d barely made it past the shed when Hugh called out.
“Where are you two off to?”
“To town for books,” I said.
“Do you want me to hitch the wagon?”
I stopped and frowned.
“The wagon is here?”
“Where else would it be?” he asked.
I glanced at Kellen.
“Judith wouldn’t have walked to town with guests arriving at any time,” she said.
“I agree. If she’s not in town, then where is she?”
Kellen and I split up with Hugh. We checked the privy, the animal pens, Mother’s grave, and everywhere else we could think of. Finally, we went inside to speak with Anne.
Her expression turned troubled when we related what we’d learned, and she glanced at the door.
“Should we tell Maeve?”
I understood her hesitation. Although Judith had been with us as long as Kellen and I could remember, would Maeve see Judith as hired help who abandoned her post or like a missing member of our family? Yet, with guests still arriving every day, we would be hard pressed to keep Judith’s absence hidden for long.
“Maeve has followed our lead in everything to do with this household,” Kellen said. “We have no reason to doubt she will continue to do so.”
Anne nodded and left the room. Several minutes later, she returned with Maeve who gave us all a concerned look.
“I sent our visitor off with some pastries for her boys. Where have you all looked for Judith and where haven’t we yet checked?” she asked.
We listed off where we’d already been and struggled to think of where else to look.
“While you think, I’m going to send Hugh to town with the wagon on the slim chance Judith did indeed walk. I’m sure our dear cook is well,” she said, setting her hand on my arm and giving it a quick squeeze before leaving.
“What about the berry patch?” Kellen asked, pointing at the almost empty clay bowl. “Perhaps she went for more berries.”
There was only one type of berry that was ripe this time of year. The tiny, dark fruits matured in the early spring within their thorny bramble. They weren’t easy to find or easy to pick, but we were lucky enough to have a single patch on the king’s land. It wasn’t too far from the house.
“She should be back by now,” I said, already moving toward the door.
The yard was quiet as Kellen and I left. My sister’s steps matched mine as we hurried through the trees.
The patch came into sight along with a splash of white on the ground. I lifted my skirts and ran forward.
Judith’s apron lay in the decaying mess of last year’s leaves. Tiny berries rested on the material.
Lifting my gaze, I looked around the patch.
“She’s gone,” Kellen said flatly.
“But where?”
Chapter Eight
I bent and picked up the apron, feeling the chill in the material.
“Anne said that Judith was gone when she woke,” I said. “That meant Judith had to have
come out here at first light.”
Even if she had come out in the middle of the night, there wasn’t anything in these woods that would bother her. Wild pigs were too hunted to be much of a nuisance. Any deer would be more likely to run than to attack. And wolves hadn’t been seen in years. I’d heard rumors that after a sickness had hit Drisdall, they’d been hunted to the point that they’d all fled to the Dark Forest. Nothing here would have harmed her. Certainly nothing would have removed her apron and—
The sudden baying of hounds jerked my attention from the apron in my hands.
“Kellen, go home and tell the others what we found. I’m going to walk further and see if anyone at the king’s estate has seen her.”
Kellen caught my arm before I could walk off.
“Just observe from a distance,” she said. “We can send Hugh to ask after her.”
I nodded.
The brisk walk to the king’s retreat didn’t cool my temper or ease my fear. Where else could Judith have gone, if not there?
Stepping with care, I made my way to the same tree as the night before. Through the bramble and barren branches, I watched Kaven walk the well-trampled yard as he fed the hounds. He was speaking, but the hounds were making too much noise to distinguish his words.
Tree by tree, I moved closer, needing to hear. With the wind in my favor, the hounds ignored me and continued their harassment of Kaven for their meal.
“Down, you greedy mutts. There’s enough for all of you. Fresh too. Just this morning.”
My eyes widened, and I looked at the meat in his hand again, my stomach rolling.
He stopped throwing meat from the bucket to pat the head of one of the dogs.
“I know how you like it,” he said with a chuckle. “Juicy and dripping and still warm.”
I gagged.
“You best appreciate the effort I went through. This stag wasn’t easy to bring down. But, it had a rack as big as any I’ve seen.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief and let my gaze sweep over the yard. Nothing seemed out of place from the last time I’d watched the retreat. While I still firmly placed the fault of my mother’s death on the Crown, I wasn’t yet certain I could place Judith’s disappearance there, too.
When Kaven turned away, I left my hiding place and returned home.
Maeve was waiting by the kitchen door when I entered the yard. Her worried expression changed to one of relief when she saw me.
“Oh, Eloise. I know I have no right, but I was so worried when Kellen said what you’d found then left you in the woods alone.”
She embraced me firmly, and I could feel a tremble running through her. Guilt had me hugging her in return.
“I’m sorry, Maeve. I needed to know if Judith perhaps had a run-in with the king’s hounds.”
She pulled back to look me in the eye.
“Please tell me you did not accuse the king of taking our housemaid.”
I smiled a little, knowing such a thought probably sent her into a panic, given her stance on appearances.
“No. I swear there were no accusations. I didn’t even go to the door, just watched from the trees and saw a servant feeding the hounds. They seemed tame and unlikely to attack a person.”
“Good. Please don’t fret over Judith. I sent Hugh to town to look for her. Perhaps the apron was forgotten from yesterday.”
I nodded although I didn’t agree. Judith wasn’t one to forget an apron in the woods.
Maeve’s expression of worry softened as she looked at me. She reached out and patted my cheek.
“I can see you don’t believe that’s the case. You’ve suffered so much already. I would spare you any further troubling news if I could.”
I believed her and wished again that I could confide in her. That I wouldn’t need to carry the weight of my suspicions on my own.
“What is it?” she said with a small frown. “Your expression changed just now.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, easing toward the kitchen door. She didn’t stop me.
Inside, Anne was busy cutting more disks.
“Can I help?” I asked as I took of my cloak and hung it on a peg.
“Thank you, but no. This task is to keep me from worrying,” Anne said.
“Where’s Kellen?”
“Resting,” Maeve said as she came in the door behind me. “I insisted. She looked as if she’d barely slept last night.”
I nodded and with nothing else to do, drifted from the kitchen and found myself standing in the sitting room near the lounge that Mother favored.
“Was that her spot?” Maeve asked softly behind me.
“Yes. She loved the sun on her face and watching the wind in the trees.”
Maeve moved to stand beside me, and together we stared out the window for several long moments.
“I know I am not your mother. Or your sister. And that you have no reason to confide in me. But I am here to listen if you have a need.”
The offer proved too much of a temptation when I needed it most.
“The day my mother died, we heard hounds in the woods. Thinking it might be poachers, Hugh went to warn them off of the king’s land. He returned to say it wasn’t poachers, but the king’s contingent here to prepare the retreat for the arrival of the king.”
I turned from the window and sat in the chair I favored. The one that faced Mother’s lounge. Maeve sat beside me in Kellen’s usual chair. She didn’t speak, just waited for me to continue.
“It wasn’t long after that a messenger boy appeared with a wrapped box. We thought it a gift from Father. However, the necklace inside wasn’t a gift, and it wasn’t from father. The moment the pendant touched Mother’s skin, an unnatural light lit her eyes, and she died.”
Maeve’s expression filled with shock and sorrow. I continued before she could interrupt.
“When I ran into the king’s servant, he was wearing the same insignia on his cap as the messenger who’d delivered the necklace. It’s the king’s insignia.” I gripped my hands in my lap, trying not to blurt out the blatant accusation that waited on the tip of my tongue. “I don’t believe we will find Judith anywhere in town.”
“I see,” Maeve said. She looked out the window for a moment before clasping my hand.
“While the evidence surely leads one to believe there is only one conclusion, I cannot help but wonder what purpose the Crown would have for killing your mother. It makes no sense. There is no benefit. I am not disagreeing with you, dear one. I’m only stating that you need to consider carefully what would motivate the single most important person in this kingdom to care enough about your mother to kill her.”
“I don’t know.” I sighed and studied the light pattern on Mother’s lounge. Maeve patted my hands and left me to my thoughts.
She was right. There was no logical motivation for the king to concern himself over Mother’s fate. Yet, we lived in a home on the king’s land for a reason. Why?
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there before I heard the faint rumble of a wagon in the yard. Hurrying through the house, I went to the kitchen, the first place Hugh would go if it were him and the last place a guest would go if we were so unfortunate.
The door opened, and Anne stopped her pastry cutting to look up at Hugh.
None of his usual humor lit his eyes. In fact, they looked quite dull.
“There wasn’t any sign of her. I asked at all the usual haunts.” He paused for a moment then turned around and left without another word.
Anne and I shared a look. Neither of us spoke. She picked up her knife and went back to cutting her pastries.
Angry at fate, I departed the kitchen and found my way upstairs. Kellen was sleeping soundly on top of her covers. The dark circles, that were under her eyes earlier, were missing. Taking care not to wake her, I joined her on the bed. It wasn’t something I’d done in a long time. But I needed the comfort of my twin.
The gentle touch of a finger on my eyelid woke me some time later.
&nbs
p; I opened my eyes and stared at Kellen.
“You snore,” she said softly. “It scared the mice away.”
“I do not snore. You do,” I said, repeating the same thing we always said to each other when she found me in her bed.
She studied me for a moment.
“Something has been troubling you for a long time. Why haven’t you confided in me?”
“Because you’re hurt, and I’m older. I’m supposed to protect you.”
“Older by a breath and a push doesn’t count,” she said. “Talk to me, Eloise. I don’t like not sharing your thoughts.”
“And I don’t like you closing yourself off.” I gently pulled my sister into a hug. “It’s okay to cry, Kellen.”
She hugged me in return.
“I couldn’t imagine my life without you, Eloise. You are indeed the Cinder to my Snow.”
I groaned and pulled back to look at her.
“I shouldn’t have forgiven Carver. Those words hurt you too deeply.”
She smiled.
“You forgave him because that’s who you are. And the words only hurt because they are true. But I like being the way I am. I like pushing the pain aside. I don’t like hurting. I don’t like feeling alone or knowing that someday, eventually, everyone will leave me. Because that is just how life is meant to be lived. Leave me the protection of my cold heart, my Cinder. Don’t burn it away with your love.”
I could see the pain in my sister’s eyes and her desperation to hold herself together. Nodding, I kissed her cheek.
“Now, tell me what upsets you so much that you think two full grown women can comfortably sleep on this narrow bed.”
“I never thought it would be comfortable,” I said with a small grin.
She stared at me, and I gave in with a sigh.
“I think the necklace killed Mother.”
Kellen closed her eyes.
“I do too.”
I should have known she’d noticed. We were far too similar in how we thought.
“The boy who delivered it was wearing the king’s insignia, the same as Kaven. Now, with Judith missing…”