Love Spell: Book 2 of The Grimm Laws

by Youngblood, Jennifer

  Shock twisted Josselyn’s face, followed by tears. “What have I done to deserve this cruelty?” she wailed. “I have stood by thy side, day and night—never complaining, never criticizing.”

  Cinderella let out a laugh. “Hah! All you ever do is criticize! In case you have not noticed, I am going through a difficult time. I could use a little support from thee at present. All you care about is yourself and the fine clothes and the food and the servants! You had better hope that Edward is summoning me to rekindle our relationship.” She leaned forward, her face nearly touching Josselyn’s. “If he is giving me the boot then you will go right out of the palace with me.”

  Josselyn put a hand to her hair, and Cinderella noticed it was shaking. A twinge of guilt flushed over her, but before she could make amends, Josselyn spoke. “I apologize. You are correct. I have been selfish. I have gotten caught up in the splendor of the palace.” She let out a long sigh. “I will try hard to be more sympathetic to thy feelings.”

  If Cinderella hadn’t heard the words that were coming out of Josselyn’s mouth she wouldn’t have believed it possible. She studied Josselyn to see if the words were sincere. Tears were streaming down her stepsister’s face, and her lower lip was trembling. She looked sincere … at least sincere enough to mollify Cinderella for the moment. “I appreciate thine apology,” she said, stiffly. “I need to be alone so that I can rest.”

  “Of course.” Josselyn wiped at her tears. “I will leave thee be.”

  “Aye, for I need to get prepared for tonight’s encounter.” Cinderella turned back to the window and looked out at the lonely mountains once more.

  * * *

  Knowing that it would highlight her eyes, Cinderella chose a coneflower, blue gown that hugged her waist and fell in soft cascades around her hips. She wore her hair, part up and part down. Millicent did an elaborate braid, intertwined with sapphires and diamonds, around the crown of her head. A teardrop diamond necklace added the final touch. When Cinderella saw her reflection in the mirror, her breath caught. She really did look stunning. The maiden staring at her was the epitome of a princess—so much so that she could even fool herself if she stared long enough.

  Josselyn came up behind her. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks,” Cinderella murmured.

  Josselyn touched her arm. “I mean it. You are destined to be a princess—the wife of the future king, and Edward will surely see that tonight.”

  Cinderella’s eyes misted. In that small moment, she felt for Josselyn and all that she must be going through. A victory for her would mean that Josselyn would lose Edward forever. Despite everything, they were sisters. Josselyn and Seraphina were the only family she had. That counted for something, didn’t it? “I am sorry, Joss. I am sorry that ‘tis not thee standing here instead of me.”

  Color rose in Josselyn’s cheeks, and she looked at the floor. An awkward moment passed. When she looked up at Cinderella, her expression was pained. “’Tis an absurd thing to say,” she barked. “All those years when you were a servant in our home, I never wished it was me.”

  “I was not intending to insult thee. I only meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” Josselyn cut in. She forced a smile. “Let us not make this situation any worse that it already is. Enjoy tonight—for me, would you?” She kissed Cinderella on the cheek. “Do not foul this up for us. A life here in the palace is the only thing I have left to hope for. Do not take that away from me too.”

  * * *

  Breathe. Just Breathe. She looked up the grassy hill and could just make out the firelight from the torches, flickering against the evening sky. A sudden breeze lifted goose bumps on her arms, reminding her that she should’ve brought a shawl to wrap around her shoulders. Cinderella looked down and realized she was clutching her gown in her fists. She smoothed down the silk in an attempt to erase the wrinkles. She’d gone to great lengths to look put-together, and it wouldn’t do to fall apart now. This was her last chance for a reconciliation with Edward, and she needed to look her best.

  She walked up the hill and paused when she saw him, standing beside the table. His blonde hair ruffled lightly in the breeze, and then he smiled. Her heart skipped a beat as conflicting emotions welled in her breast. Anticipation, sadness, and the whisper of limitless possibilities. It was all right there, rolling around her and reflecting back like broken bits of a mirror. Edward was so regal, so dashingly handsome in his royal blue tunic. He looked every bit the prince he was. She could do this. She could make it work. Any girl would give her eyeteeth to have a chance with Edward. He gave her a stiff smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. An image of Rushton flooded her. Rushton with his reckless smile and laughing eyes. Her heart fell a notch, and she had to force herself to return Edward’s smile with a wooden one of her own. Focus on Edward, she warned herself. She had to focus. She looked up at the sheer strips of milky white fabric that were gracefully draped between four tall posts. Dainty white and yellow flowers were intertwined in the fabric. Thankfully, they weren’t daisies. That would’ve done her in for sure! Flickering candles were artfully arranged on the intimate table that was laden with meat, cheese, fruit, and what looked to be an assortment of puddings. Two servants were standing on each end of the table, their postures erect, eyes watchful. Was this elaborate dinner Edward’s way of saying goodbye? She wondered fleetingly if the servants were there to serve or if they had been sent by Queen Loreena to give a full report of the event.

  Edward gave her a deep bow, which she returned with a curtsy. He motioned for her to sit. The servant nearest her jumped to action and pulled out a chair. Edward took his seat across from her.

  “’Tis beautiful,” she began.

  He acknowledged her compliment with a slight nod. “I am pleased that you could join me this evening.”

  She nodded. Everything felt so formal and awkward. If only they could have a few moments alone then perhaps they could connect again like they had before the fiasco with Rushton. She brushed the annoying thoughts aside. No more thoughts about Rushton!

  Edward reached for a cluster of red grapes and a wedge of soft cheese. He placed a handful of grapes into his mouth and motioned for her to begin eating.

  Tentatively, she reached for the cheese and grapes. She’d barely gotten the food on her plate when the servant on her left rushed to her side and began pouring ale into her goblet. “Would the lady care for some venison or stuffed hen?”

  “Nay.”

  “How about some sweet pudding? ‘Tis smooth and creamy. A delectable delight.”

  Cinderella fought the urge to scream. All she wanted was one moment of peace. One single moment where someone wasn’t pawing at her to get her dressed or falling over himself to get her food or drink. “I am fine at present,” she said, trying hard to keep the bite out of her voice.

  Edward chuckled in amusement. Blood rushed to her face. Was she that transparent?

  He motioned at the servants. “You are hereby dismissed.”

  They looked at each other and then back at Edward, as if they didn’t trust the words they were hearing.

  “I thank thee, for thine assistance. ‘Twill be all,” Edward repeated more firmly.

  They gave him curt nods before scampering away.

  Cinderella breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  Edward gave her a kind smile that held the slightest hint of reproof. “Is life in the palace so intolerable?”

  “Nay!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. “I am sorry. I did not mean—”

  He cut off her explanation with a flourish of his hand. “No apology necessary. ‘Tis a new way of life for thee.” He helped himself to the stuffed hen.

  She looked numbly down at her hands. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to keep from saying or doing something wrong. “I meant no offense to the servants,” she finally said, lifting her eyes his.

  “And I am certain none was taken. I am so accustomed to the servants that they have become pa
rt of the surroundings. They might as well be a table or chair.” He lifted his goblet to his lips and took a drink. “Or a goblet.”

  “They are not a stick of furniture or goblet, they are people,” she blurted, her face growing hot.

  A bewildered look came over his handsome features. “I have offended thee,” he mused.

  “I apologize,” she amended. This was not going well. Not well at all. In another moment, he would have her thrown out of the palace or locked in the dungeon. His soft laughter caught her completely off guard. She cocked her head, an edge to her voice. “Did I say something funny?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “You are good for me.”

  She shook her head, trying to figure out where this was going. “I do not understand.”

  “No one speaks to me that way.” He looked thoughtful. “No one, that is, except for Rushton.”

  The very mention of his name sent her heart pounding. She knew Edward was studying her intently to get her reaction. He’d probably mentioned Rushton’s name on purpose. Her eyes met his. “Perhaps that is because Rushton and I come from a completely different world from that which you are accustomed, your majesty.”

  He openly studied her, and she could see the slightest hint of a smile forming in his eyes. “Aye, but could you not grow accustomed to this?” He fanned his hand over the table.

  “I could try,” she said plaintively.

  At that, he started laughing again.

  The wind picked up, rustling the strips of fabric above them. Cinderella suppressed a shiver. The conversation was reaching a turning point, and these next few moments would determine her future. Despite the chill of the evening, she could feel perspiration forming on her upper lip.

  “Please … eat,” Edward said, but to her it sounded more like a command. Was this how her life was to be? A lifetime of trying to appease him? She took some of the venison and pudding and began eating. The venison was tender and succulent. The servant was correct—the pudding was delectable. She found herself enjoying the meal despite the circumstance.

  When they had eaten their fill, Edward stretched back in his chair. “May I ask thee something?”

  “Aye.”

  “Why are you here?”

  She tensed. “I am here because you summoned … um … invited me to share a meal with thee.”

  He sat up straight. “I am not referring to tonight. Why are you here in the castle? Here with me?”

  “Edward, I want thee to understand that I came to the castle because I wanted to be with thee.” The sincerity of her words rang in her own ears. Aye, ‘twas true. She had come here because she wanted to be with Edward.

  “But why did you want to be with me?”

  Here is where it got sticky. She could not tell him that she came because she needed his wealth to save her deceased father’s home. Because she needed to right the wrongs her father had unintentionally done. Because she no longer had a hope of having a future with Rushton. Because there was a part of her—a very small part—that felt responsible for Seraphina and Josselyn, in spite of all they’d done. Nay, she could not tell him all of those things. “I came here because you are kind,” she said instead. “You are kind and noble, and any maiden would be lucky to have thee.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Any maiden?”

  She could feel her face growing warm. “Aye.”

  “But what about you?” he prodded. “Do you feel lucky to have me?” He leaned forward.

  “Of course,” she said flatly.

  His eyes met hers, and he was so close that she could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. They seem to be flickering like the flames on the candles. “Really?” he said earnestly. There was something in his expression that made him look as vulnerable as she felt. Maybe the two of them weren’t so different after all.

  The honesty in his eyes demanded an honest answer. “The truth is that I am not so certain anymore,” she said quietly.

  He looked hurt but satisfied that she’d given him a truthful answer. “I suppose Rushton changed things between us.”

  Not sure how to answer, she remained quiet.

  “Cinderella,” he began, “I have thought about this a hundred different ways—have tried to put myself in thy shoes. You really have only two choices at this point …”

  She swallowed hard. “And, pray tell me, what choices are those, my lord?” It was an effort to keep her voice light.

  “Marry me or face the dungeon.”

  Her eyes went wide, and she had the hysterical urge to laugh. “You do get right to the heart of the matter.”

  “Do not think it brings me any pleasure to admit it. Am I so terrible that you would prefer the dungeon?”

  “Nay,” she said quickly. “Nay! Thy behavior has been beyond reproach. You have treated me kindly from the beginning! If you will still have me then I will pledge my all to thee in this very moment.” Tears misted her eyes. “If you will give me another chance, I will not let thee down.”

  He reached for her hand and took it in his. He started rubbing his thumb in small circles over the palm of her hand. “So you would offer me thy undying love?”

  Her mouth went dry. “Aye,” she croaked. “Aye, I would,” she said louder.

  “But what about Rushton?”

  Her breath caught, and she noticed that he’d stopped rubbing her hand. A horrific thought entered her mind. Was Rushton here in the palace, chained like some animal to the dungeon walls? Nay, he couldn’t be. He’d escaped. Thank goodness, he’d escaped. At least she could take solace in that. “Rushton is gone,” she said, meeting his gaze. Emotion welled in her breast until she could no longer contain it. Everything that she’d longed to tell Edward tumbled out like water rushing off a cliff. “I am so sorry about what happened with Rushton, I never meant to betray thy trust. That night I met him in the forest, I went to tell him goodbye. To tell him that I had chosen thee. To tell him it was over,” she finished.

  He withdrew his hand from hers. “For something to have an end, it must have a beginning. You loved Rushton once.”

  She could only imagine what it must have cost him to speak those words out loud. “Aye,” she admitted. A single tear trickled down her cheek. “I loved him … once.” The words came out ragged before they disappeared into the night air.

  “In the Parade of Maidens, where I first laid eyes on thee, you were hoping that it would be Rushton who selected thee.”

  “Aye,” she whispered.

  “And that day in the marketplace, you were wearing the daisy in thine hair because of Rushton.”

  She hesitated, and his eyes penetrated hers, daring her to tell him a lie. “Aye,” she finally said.

  He started drumming his fingers on the table.

  “I never meant to hurt thee, Edward. I never meant for things to go the way they have. If you will give me a chance to make it up to thee, I’ll—“

  He held up his hand to halt her speech. “I know, I know you would do just about anything to appease me at this point.”

  She rocked back. For a moment she didn’t think she’d heard him correctly. Fear laid heavy in her throat, but anger soon pushed it away. “Pardon me?” Her eyebrows knitted. “Are you playing games with me?” She scooted back her chair and stood. “Is this elaborate set-up thy way of giving me my last meal before the execution? Of showing me everything that I will miss because of what happened? Forgive my frankness, prince, but you are being a brute!” Tears formed in her eyes, and she brushed angrily at them.

  He placed his hand over hers. “Nay, I am not playing games with thee. Sit down.”

  “She raised an eyebrow.”

  “Please, sit down.”

  Reluctantly, she complied. She pursed her lips together in a thin line and glared at him.

  He blew out a breath. “The reason I asked thee to dine with me was so that we could talk openly. I was planning on dismissing the servants after our meal, but when I saw they were troubling thee, I dismissed them early
.” He pointed upward to the twinkling stars. “’Tis a beautiful night. I am here, and you are here. We are here … together. We have a lifetime before us and all of the happiness the world has to offer. Do you not see it?” Hope tinged his voice. “’Tis all so close … all we have to do is reach out and grasp it. Tonight is the night for truth. I do not want to have any secrets between us. You once loved Rushton. Your relationship took place before you met me.” He gave her a searching look. “I am going to ask thee one question, and I want thee to tell me the truth. Regardless of how you answer the question, I will still marry thee. We will speak of it tonight and then never speak of it again. He motioned at the four posts, surrounding them. Nothing goes outside of these posts. Whatever we discuss will forever remain locked here.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I swear to thee that it will be so.”

  She moistened her lips, trying to decide if she could trust him. His expression was open, benign. “Agreed,” she said, “but after I answer thy question, I get to ask thee one question.”

  He thought for a moment. “Fair enough. I will go first.” He looked her in the eye. “Did Rushton cast a love spell over thee?”

  Her heart started hammering in her chest, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. “What do you want from me?” She looked him in the eye, pleading. “I told you that I loved him … once. Is that not enough?”

  “The trial begins tomorrow. You will have to answer the question. And the answer you give will affect thee … us.” He balled his fist. “I am putting my future in thy hands. The least you can do is to tell me the truth.”

  They locked eyes. Their future together … her future. It was all dangling by a thread. One false step, and it would all crumble to bits. Her head was starting to ache, and she reached up to massage her temples. “I have asked myself the same question a thousand times. The truth is … I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just do not know.” How she’d dreaded speaking those words, but now that they were out in the open, she was surprised at the relief she felt.