Cinders, Stars, and Glass Slippers: A Retelling of Cinderella

by Brittany Fichter

  “I really don’t think he will.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “Because he was the one who dragged me home!” She yanked her hands away and went to stand by the fireplace. “He said it was dangerous. He even ordered me to stay here until he comes for me. Ordered!”

  “Why did he order you to stay here?” Charlotte’s voice was brittle.

  Elaina immediately wished she’d left that part out. She slowly walked to the nearest chair and ran her hand along its purple-flowered covering. “He says there is someone out there who is killing . . . people like me. He said another one died yesterday.” She looked at Lydia again. “I promise, I volunteered nothing.”

  “Killing?” Lydia whispered.

  Elaina nodded.

  Charlotte drew a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. “Well . . . if the prince has given you a direct order to remain here, then I am more than ready to help you obey.” She arched her brows. “To ensure you obey. But even after this crisis is over, I no longer want you walking about by yourself. You are to remain with your guard at all times. And there will be no more of this leaving the house after dark, even with a guard, unless you’re with me.”

  Elaina felt her freedom slipping away like oil through her fingers. But she knew she didn’t have the right to argue this time. “Yes, madam.”

  When her aunt finally left, Elaina remained behind in her chair, appetite for the morning meal gone. Lydia moved to stand beside her, but it was a long time before she spoke. When she did, her voice was hesitant.

  “I . . . I suppose I’m thankful that the prince was there to find you when he did.”

  Elaina could only watch her warily. Her heart and head were too muddled and twisted with every emotion imaginable to form a coherent response.

  “But please, just consider your response to him after this,” Lydia continued, staring at her hands. “I know he might seem heroic in what he did. And maybe he was. But . . . don’t allow this one deed to blind you to who he really is. I know how easy it is to fall for his charms. He has so many.” She looked as though she wanted to say more, but she finally followed her mother.

  Elaina sat by the fire for a long while before she had the energy to return to her room. Aside from meals, she remained there for the rest of the day. It was in her chambers that she waited, watching through her window for the moment the prince’s black horse might ride through their gate.

  She was vaguely aware of the hole in her heart where her father had been. She even understood, to a point, that her beloved Adroit and all its men were gone, most likely forever. But she didn’t wish to think of such things. Because thinking them made them feel more real, like they might actually be true. So instead, she thought about the prince.

  Though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, particularly Lydia, there had been something oddly comforting in his behavior, angry as his command had made her. She was beginning to understand the secret side of the prince that Dustin had gone on about. He had certainly recognized her gift far faster than Elaina would have expected from anyone so pampered. And the way he had hovered over her as they’d raced through the black streets on his horse had sent more than fearful shivers down her spine.

  Was Lydia right? Was Elaina falling for his charms?

  No. This was more than charm. His charms were the little nuances that vexed her daily. This was something more. Something real.

  Still, did that mean she was falling for him? Elaina refused to even consider that question. Instead, she continued to study the lawn. And wait.

  And wait.

  * * *

  It wasn’t until her third day of waiting, however, that Elaina finally spotted the prince. To her surprise, he was on foot this time. She was nearly ready to race down the stairs, when he left the path to speak with her guard instead of coming to the door. They talked for a few minutes, but Elaina couldn’t read their lips. When they were finished, instead of continuing on to the entryway, however, Nicholas merely turned and began to walk back to the road.

  Really? He’d made her wait three days, and now he wasn’t going to free her from her prison? Well, she had held up her end of the order. Nicholas had come to her house in person, and now she was getting out.

  Grabbing her cloak and stuffing it under her arm, Elaina prayed that no one would see her as she snuck out of her room. The midday meal had passed, and Elaina was relieved to find that her aunt and cousin had already retired to their rooms for their afternoon rests. In just a few moments, she was able to dart out the back door and press herself up against the wall, waiting for someone to notice her. There were no protests or objections, however, so she threw her cloak on and pulled her hood over her head. She edged her way into the garden then cut through to the other side of the property line, just in time to see Nicholas disappear around the distant corner of the lane, heading back into town.

  She wasted no time in making chase to the end of the lane and then hurling herself into the crowds. Her height, or lack thereof, might have made following him difficult, for the streets were still quite full, except for the fact that he was so tall. Even with his head bent, he was a good six inches taller than everyone else. So through the crowds they went, the prince keeping his head down, and Elaina holding hers up as high as possible, nearly having to walk on her toes to keep him in sight.

  They continued that way for what felt like miles. The shadows began to lengthen, but yet the prince walked on. Elaina began to wish she’d thought to bring her boots, but there hadn’t been time in her haste to escape the house. She only hoped she would be back in time not to be missed at supper.

  The streets around them began to narrow. The houses and shops grew smaller and closer together, many with uneven roofs and scraps of oiled cloth in the windows instead of glass. The people wore clothing that was patched and full of holes, and many of them jostled her harder than she was used to. After getting a particularly long look from an unsmiling man, Elaina jogged a little faster so the distance between her and Nicholas was only six or seven paces rather than the ten to fifteen she’d been keeping. She would rather the prince not see her at all, but if the need arose, she would prefer his wrath to that of a stranger.

  She sent up a prayer of thanks to the Maker when Nicholas finally came to a stop. They were in a market square, though it was much poorer than any market Elaina had ever seen in Ashland. About a dozen tents in a little rectangle drooped with various materials that seemed as abused as their owners’ clothes. Elaina darted to the side so he wouldn’t see her. Just in time, as Nicholas looked all around before ducking into one of the tents and letting the flap close behind him.

  When she was sure he was inside, she ran around to the other side of the tent and crouched where she could listen in. All four sides of this particular tent had heavy cloths draped down so no one could see inside. But to Elaina’s delight, she found a hole just small enough to peer through.

  Five people stood inside the tent, and in their center sat an old woman wrapped in all sorts of animal pelts. Elaina couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders slumped and her white hair was undone. Nicholas knelt before her, reached in his cloak, and pulled out a small package wrapped in paper and string.

  “I was told you like ham,” he said kindly, holding the package in front of her. “Perhaps your son can make this into a warm broth for supper.”

  The woman didn’t respond, but her whole body shuddered.

  Elaina’s eyes pricked as Nicholas took one of the woman’s hands. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear about your daughter. I met Casey once. She was very kind.”

  This sent the old woman into more silent shudders, but her fingers visibly tightened around his.

  “Thank you, sire.” A large man took the package from Nicholas. “She hasn’t eaten anything since it happened. Perhaps this will convince her. Honestly I don’t know how she’s lasted this long.”

  “What can I do?” Nicholas stood and faced the man, who Elaina guessed to
be at least of forty-something years. He had a thick mustache and a round belly. His eyes were rimmed red.

  “There’s not much we can do, I’m afraid.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving visibly. “Catch the one who did this?”

  Nicholas’s jaw tightened. “I plan to do just that. But here, before I forget.” Nicholas reached into his cloak again and pulled out a small pouch. The clink of coins sounded as he handed it to the man. “Pay for the funeral and any other expenses you might have. That should be enough, but if it’s not, talk to Smith. He’ll contact me.”

  As the people in the tent began to thank Nicholas, Elaina realized he was about to leave. Scrambling up from the hole and back into the busy street, she spotted a shadowed corner where she might hide until it was safe to follow. Just as she took her first step toward it, however, a large woman brushed by her, knocking her sideways.

  Right into Nicholas.

  16

  Gifted

  An eternal moment of shock and embarrassment passed as Elaina stared into the startled eyes of her prince. He didn’t look startled for long, though.

  “What are you doing here?” His voice was hard, completely devoid of flirtation or teasing.

  “I . . . I waited like you said. But you didn’t come, so when you did, I followed you.” Elaina felt more ashamed than she had in a long time, like a naughty child who had been caught.

  “I’ve got one dead body on my hands here. I don’t need another one. Now really, what suggested this might be a good idea?”

  Elaina opened her mouth, but no answer came. Really, what had made this seem wise? All she could remember now was her desperation to escape the suffocating silence of the house, the endless reminder that her father was gone. “What happened to Casey?” she finally asked, unable to come up with anything better to say.

  Nicholas glared down at her for another minute. Then he glanced around. “Stay close. It’s not safe here.”

  For once, she didn’t even consider doing otherwise.

  He took her by the hand and began pulling her through the streets. Unfortunately, they were already beginning to draw attention. While Nicholas’s clothes were made of fine cloth, they were dark and nondescript. Meanwhile, her gray gown, though one of her more subtle outfits, was drawing looks, particularly as the afternoon was growing late and people didn’t seem in quite as much of a hurry as they had been before.

  Through alleys, under bridges, around similar little squares to the one they’d first stopped in, Nicholas led her. Her heart beat unevenly when they turned a corner and she noticed his hand briefly move to what she was sure was the hilt of a sword hidden beneath his cloak. Were they truly in that much danger?

  After that corner, they hurried through yet another square. This one wasn’t quite as impoverished as the place she had followed him to, but there were enough dirty, shoeless children running about to convince Elaina that they were still far from home.

  A man in the center of the square caught her eye as they passed. Children and even a few adults surrounded him. Elaina paused as he poured a stream of water from a pitcher into his hand. As he poured, the water changed from clear to yellow.

  “What are you doing?” Nicholas’s impatient whisper made her jump.

  “That man just changed water into oil!” Elaina pointed.

  Nicholas glanced at him and his expression grew even darker. “And he’s a fool for making it so public. Now come. We need to keep moving.”

  After nearly an hour of walking, the houses began to grow farther apart, and the street they followed led out of the city and through hills covered in orchards. Still Nicholas led them northeast through the lines of trees until they were at the foot of a hill not far from the palace grounds. Nicholas finally dropped her hand and went over to sit against the trunk of an apple tree. Picking up two of the apples on the ground beside him, he pulled out a small knife and began to peel the skin off one.

  Unsure of what to do, Elaina followed suit and sank down against the trunk of a tree across from his, willing herself not to think about how much her feet hurt. Birds chirped, and the sun sank low enough in the sky that everything began to turn a thin shade of gold. It could have been a scene from a painting, except for the roiling dread that was gathering in the pit of her stomach. She dared a peek at the prince every few minutes, but it wasn’t until he’d completely peeled both apples and tossed one to her that he spoke.

  “When I was thirteen . . . about six years ago,” he said, staring pensively at the apple in his hand, “I was out running around the city, causing a ruckus with some of my less-than-noble friends. Someone mentioned that a new bakery had opened in the old town, and the chef made amazing tarts. Being of the age where boys follow their stomachs, I convinced them to take me.

  “On the way, we decided to play a game. I had just darted into a back alley when I tripped over something.” He wiped the knife against his shirt and put it back in its sheath. “It turned out to be a dead body.” He looked directly at Elaina for the first time since leaving the square and pointed to his right temple. “The body had two piercings here, next to the eye. I thought it was strange, so I ran straight home to tell my father.”

  “What did he say?”

  Nicholas let out a humorless chuckle. “When I got to the palace, my father was more upset about my exploration than he was about the dead body. He confined me to my room for a week. It didn’t quell my curiosity about the dead man, however, so as soon as I was free, I began to search for an answer. I needed to know why someone would do that to a dead body.”

  “You were so young,” Elaina breathed, but Nicholas just shrugged.

  “I didn’t learn much for about a year. My father was no help, as he thought the endeavor useless. But my unending questions of everyone I met eventually paid off when I began to learn of other bodies that had been found with the same marks.” He rubbed his foot in the dirt. “I just wish my father would allow me to travel more to learn whether or not these murders are happening outside of Kaylem as well.”

  Elaina found herself trembling, but more from excitement than the horror of the story or the evening chill. This was the prince she’d seen traces of beneath the veneer. This must be the man Dustin had been talking about.

  “After a few years of investigating, which was a slow and painful process, mind you, without the support of my father, I was able to deduce through the murder reports and stories from family members of the dead that everyone who died with the marks had been gifted in life.” He stopped turning the apple in his hands and peered at Elaina. “What do you know of your kind?”

  She blinked. “My kind?”

  “Those with extra abilities. The gifted, like you, are more populous in Ashland than anywhere else in the world, at least that we know of. Being gifted is nearly unheard of in Destin, for example, outside of the royal family. There are gifted people in other kingdoms as well, but there are far more here in Ashland than all the other western kingdoms combined.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We don’t know for sure, but my guess is that it has something to do with Solwhind being the largest city in the western realm. Its opportunities for trade draw many to our borders.”

  “I met quite a few gifted people in Solwhind,” Elaina said, thinking of Madhu and her spices.

  Nicholas nodded. “Anyway, I began to track the deaths of the gifted. We try to take records of deaths, dates, and circumstances for civil records. Making friends with the healer who pronounces individuals dead helped, for he was able to inform me when bodies with those piercings showed up in the temple. I concluded after several years that someone was most definitely targeting them.”

  An image, long forgotten, flashed in Elaina’s mind. It was a memory she had tried to banish, the one where her mother’s body had been brought into the house for identification. And though the memory was fuzzy, she recalled with horrid clarity the two marks, like snake fang wounds, in her mother’s right temple.

  “What is i
t?” Nicholas sat up straighter.

  Elaina shook her head to try and clear it. “I’m not sure. It was a long time ago.”

  Nicholas surprised her by standing and walking over to her, crouching just an arm’s length away. “If you don’t tell me what just made you squirm, I will go back to the royal records right now, and I will search for everything about you and your family until I find out what it was.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Now, would you like to tell me, or should I find out myself?”

  Elaina stood as well, ignoring how much her feet protested. “Why do you care? Why are you so insistent on being involved in every part of my life?”

  “I don’t know!” His shout echoed through the orchard as they stared one another down. “I only know,” he said in a quieter voice, “that there’s something different about you, Elaina. And something in my gut tells me that I can’t let you die.”

  Elaina could only stare at him. He was the most utterly confusing man she had ever met.

  When she remained silent, he shook his head and muttered to himself as he stood and began to walk back toward the road.

  “You won’t find what you’re looking for in the records.”

  Nicholas stopped. Slowly, he turned. “What do you mean?”

  “My mother was gifted.”

  He frowned. “I should have seen that in my research.”

  “You won’t find it in the official records because we never told anyone.” Elaina slowly went to join him. “Only my father, me, my aunt, and my cousin knew. My grandparents were already dead. My own gift had blossomed shortly before my mother’s death, and my father was worried that whoever had killed her would come after me.” She shrugged. “It was simply easier to let the family think he’d lost his senses with grief than to explain why he was actually taking his little girl to live on a warship.”