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

by Brittany Fichter

  “Why weren’t we told of this sooner?” Nicholas leaned forward.

  “Unfortunately, sire, the situation has escalated very quickly. Ships are moving between the two main bay ports less and less, and many of the sailors are reporting little because they either sympathize with the Shadow and his followers or have been intimidated into silence.” Alastair shrugged helplessly. “This movement has been going on for years, but for some reason, it’s seen unprecedented growth in the last three months. I’m afraid the situation is spiraling far faster than we had anticipated, which is precisely why I requested that I come out of hiding to meet with you all personally.”

  He briefly searched the messy pile of papers until he found another map. Everyone leaned forward to see more closely as he pushed it to the center of the table.

  At the map’s center was a large bay. On the bay’s west side lay the peninsula on which Kaylem sat. The capital city was marked at the peninsula’s western shore with miles and miles of orchards and fields and smaller towns between the capital and the peninsula’s eastern wharf. Across the gigantic bay from the eastern wharf lay Solwhind, which covered most of Ashland’s eastern land, stretching right up to the kingdom’s border. Elaina knew from experience how a carriage ride could take hours to move around or even directly through the city.

  “The Sharyn Sea,” one of the admirals muttered.

  “Where is that?” Lord Hampton asked as he squinted at the parchment.

  “It’s merely the bay.” One of the admirals scoffed. “Don’t you ever leave that big house of yours?”

  “Lord Hampton, the bay is so large that it often behaves more like a sea than a bay,” Alastair said quickly, adjusting his spectacles yet again. “Therefore, many of the sailors call it the Sharyn Sea instead.” He looked up at the king. “The bay is allowing them to become emboldened, Your Highness. We have so little land south of the bay itself that they know you will have to send your soldiers over the water if you wish to interfere. They believe that this gives them the advantage of cutting you off before your troops arrive, or before you can get word to your soldiers and naval officers already stationed near or in Solwhind.”

  “I’ve lost two ships in the last month,” an admiral said, the one who had tried to defend Elaina’s honor. “I thought the first was due to a storm, but the second disappearance was quite suspect.”

  “I lost a ship in a supposed storm last week as well,” another admiral said.

  Alastair nodded. “They have ships patrolling the entire coast, posing as merchants. My assistant and I believe that whenever they think a ship is carrying dangerous information or an unusual number of soldiers, they act as though their own ship is in distress. We haven’t seen it ourselves, of course, but my assistant was told by a reliable source that there have been a strange number of distress flags thrown up in the bay lately.”

  A hush fell over the room, and every eye turned to Elaina. Her face remained calm, but Nicholas could see her jaw muscles tense.

  “What are they doing with these missing ships, Mister Bladsmuth?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “I . . . I only wish I knew, my lady. It is just theory.”

  Elaina nodded.

  Nicholas wished very much to pull her into a hug, but he satisfied himself with touching her shoulder instead. To his surprise, she reached up and, for a moment, allowed her hand to rest on top of his.

  “What do you make of this?” The king leaned back in his chair and looked at his admirals. All five of them shared glances.

  “As I said, I’ve lost two ships,” the first admiral said. His name was Bordeaux, or at least that’s what Nicholas thought. Thanks to his father, he never spent enough time around the officers to be sure of all their names.

  “I’ve lost none for sure, but one of my captains was going out to investigate a ship that was late to port last night,” another said.

  One by one, as the admirals began to compare their losses, Nicholas had a sinking feeling in his stomach. How had they missed this?

  “Is this normal?” he whispered in Elaina’s ear.

  “For one captain every few months, yes,” she whispered back. “But not all of them at the same time. No, something is wrong.”

  “You all live in Kaylem or in the country or in some nameless village. But I live in Solwhind!” Lord Benedict protested. “How has this been going on without me or my colleagues, servants, or family noticing any of it?”

  Either Lord Benedict was the most oblivious man alive, or he was lying. And Nicholas was betting it was the latter.

  “Lady Elaina,” Nicholas said, glaring at the magistrate, “have you seen any signs of this the last few times you were in Solwhind? Or perhaps that King Everard mentioned?”

  A few of the magistrates started at the sound of the foreign king.

  She tilted her head and put her thumb to her lip. “The last time I was there,” she said in slow measured words, “just a few months ago, I visited a friend in the northern fishing market, the large one near the northwest wharf. A riot broke out in the center of the square between a group of citizens. One accused the other of wearing a mark . . .” She looked at Alastair.

  “Oh, yes!” he fumbled with the scattered papers until he found another drawing. He held it up for everyone to see. “The followers of the Shadow all have a knife symbol sewn into their clothing or tattooed on their arm.”

  Elaina nodded. “My friend begged me to leave immediately. She said it wasn’t safe.” She glowered at Stiles then Benedict. “As I was going to say before, she said people had been disappearing. Particularly visitors.”

  “That’s rather bold,” Nicholas said.

  “I will meet more with my advisers after this, but for now, what is your recommendation, Mister Bladsmuth?” Xander asked. “How do I prevent trouble in my largest city from spreading like a plague to the rest of the country?”

  “I would begin by taking this to all of the magistrates together,” Alastair said gravely. “Ask what can be done on the ground level. If you try to weed this rebellion out by brute force, the people who are undecided as to whom they’re following will see it as a stronghold of the king, and they will resent the crown even more.”

  “Surely there can’t be that many followers.” Lord Hampton yawned.

  “There are enough,” Alastair said, looking the thin lord in the eye, “that should we continue on this path unaltered, I’m afraid we will have ourselves a civil war.”

  22

  Justice

  Elaina hadn’t realized just how much she’d begun to look forward to lessons with the prince until he was gone.

  As soon as the meeting with Alastair was concluded, Nicholas had whisked her back home with a rushed apology for the behavior of some of the magistrates and a quick explanation that he would be gone for at least a week, maybe longer.

  Elaina, understanding the sensitivity of war and missions, suspected immediately that his disappearance had something to do with wishing to see the rebellion for himself, but she knew better than to press for information.

  Still, she’d been caught by a wave of unexpected regret when he had bid her goodbye. His eyes had lingered on her face even after he’d said the words, and she had found her own arm unwilling to unwind itself from his as quickly as it should have. His absence shouldn’t be long, he’d promised, so why had it been so difficult to say goodbye? And why had she meant it so earnestly when she told him she would pray for his success and safe return?

  To make matters worse, there was an emptiness that settled upon her daily routine when she was forced to content herself with ladylike activities all day, particularly considering the excitement of the meeting. Going to the docks now provided little pleasure and was full of unwanted reminders, as she was trailed by the two palace guards everywhere she went. She couldn’t mourn the Adroit’s loss properly with them hovering about. Even the stars had been quiet. Every night they said only the same few words again and again.

  Beware of the pl
anted yellow seal.

  As if that was something she was supposed to understand.

  In her attempt to ignore the crawl of the minutes through the day, Elaina had just sat down to write in her journal, a habit she’d taken up to replace the routine of writing in her father’s ship log every day, when Lydia burst into her room.

  “Guess who’s come to call!”

  “Who?”

  “Look out your window!” Without waiting for her, Lydia bolted to Elaina’s window and looked down, clapping her hands like a little girl.

  Elaina followed at a slightly slower pace. When she looked down, however, she had to admit her surprise as well.

  Alastair was standing just outside a coach. The coach’s door was ajar, and he was speaking intently with the driver.

  “What do you suppose he wants?” Lydia giggled.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

  “Well, let us go see! Or no! It would be more proper to wait until he is announced in the parlor. Then we can take our time coming down as though we were doing something of import, rather than simply waiting for him.”

  “Because simply waiting on a guest would be the height of impropriety.”

  But Lydia was already at Elaina’s mirror. “How do I look? Is my hair curly enough? Do I need to add more rouge? Perhaps I should change.”

  “You look as lovely as ever,” Elaina said, taking her cousin by the shoulders. “Now hold still. Let me adjust your gown in the back.”

  “Maybe it would be better if I just—”

  “If I had your figure, I would feel confident wearing a shapeless sack.” Elaina stood back and smiled. “And this is by no means a shapeless sack. Now, I hear the servant coming up the stairs.”

  As she’d predicted, a servant announced their visitor. Lydia squealed, and Elaina took her arm so that they would have to walk down the stairs together. She really did not have an idea as to why the spy was at their home, but it would be best not to allow Lydia to trample him in her excitement.

  He was standing in the parlor, staring out the window into the fruit garden when they arrived. As soon as the door shut, he turned and swept into a bow nearly low enough to compete with Nicholas’s. “What a pleasant surprise! I came hoping to find one lady at home, and I have found two!”

  “And which of us did you wish to find?” Lydia giggled, but Elaina could see the strain beneath her smile. Please let it be Lydia, she prayed. For the sake of the sanity of all who live in this home, let it be Lydia. I beg you.

  “I had an afternoon with little to do, so I volunteered to run a message to Lady Elaina,” Alastair said, indicating to the two empty chairs by the northern window. “But I must admit that I was hoping to make your acquaintance again, Lady Lydia, if you are available to trade a few ramblings to help an idle man pass an afternoon.”

  Elaina let out a sigh of relief as Lydia’s smile returned in full. “If you wish to hand over my message now, Mister Bladsmuth, I can take it and allow you two to enjoy your ramblings.”

  Alastair pulled a little folded, sealed square of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Elaina.

  “Oh, Elaina,” Lydia whined, “you must not go! I wish for you to stay here, too! The more, the merrier!”

  Elaina stared hard at her cousin for a long moment. The last thing she had expected was for Lydia to want to share their visitor, especially with her. But when Lydia’s eyes flicked back to Alastair, Elaina understood.

  Lydia wanted her to witness them together and, when he had departed, to tell her whether or not Alastair truly favored her. For Alastair’s sake, Elaina certainly hoped he did.

  “Is Conrad here?” Elaina asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “I thought I glimpsed him just a moment ago in your coach. Wouldn’t he like to come in and have some refreshments?”

  “Ah, that is very kind of you. But I’m afraid my assistant has an earache and will be resting in the coach for a while. You mustn’t worry about him, though. I’ve left him with an herbal remedy from the royal healer. He simply wished to escape the sounds of the palace for a while.”

  “Of course,” Elaina conceded with a smile. Disappointed that her attempt at getting to know more about the younger man had failed, Elaina settled in her chair and prepared herself for a very monotonous afternoon.

  As it turned out, however, the afternoon wasn’t nearly as dull as she had expected. Lydia asked surprisingly good questions, even in her besotted state, and Alastair gave even better answers.

  “So how exactly did you conclude you did not wish to be a blade smith?” Lydia asked after tea and scones had been brought to the parlor.

  Alastair studied his cherry tart. “Believe it or not, it was when my closest childhood friend showed an unusual talent for sensing poison, of all things. Without even touching a substance, he could look at it and know whether or not it had touched or contained any sort of poison.

  “That’s an odd talent to have.” Lydia frowned at her orange scone.

  Alastair shrugged. “Yes, but highly useful, particularly around people who are powerful and might have foes. The king, King Xander’s father back then, eventually caught wind of his gift and wished to have him work at the palace. And he did.” Alistair leaned forward in his chair, his eyes suddenly bright. “The moment he left was the moment I knew I wanted to do something greater than smith for the rest of my life.”

  “Oh, he was gifted!” Lydia exclaimed. “Just like—”

  Elaina froze.

  “Just like whom, my lady?” Alastair asked.

  “Oh,” Lydia laughed and began fanning herself at a rapid pace, daring a glance at Elaina. “Elaina and I saw a few gifted individuals at the carnival recently.” She laughed nervously. “I find it fascinating that all gifts are so different. One was able to turn objects into clay just by touching them! Another woman was able to calm bees by singing to them so she could gather their honey without getting stung. Just so fascinating!”

  Elaina thought she might pass out from relief. That had been a close call. Not that Elaina didn’t trust Alastair. He had given her no reason not to. But he was associated with Conrad, whom Nicholas didn’t trust in the slightest.

  As soon as Elaina had recovered from her near heart attack and Lydia had continued on a different vein of conversation, Elaina had an idea. Nicholas might not be there, but Alastair was. Perhaps Elaina could do a little spy work on her own.

  “So you were a blade smith by trade,” she began when Lydia stopped talking long enough to sip her tea. “What was Mister Fuller’s occupation? Was he a smith as well?”

  Alastair’s easy smile fell ever so slightly. “No.” He paused to take a long drink from his tea. “No, I’m afraid Conrad’s story is quite sad and far more pitiful than my story ever was.”

  “What happened?” Lydia asked.

  Alastair studied his cup. “Most of his history isn’t mine to tell. I will say, however, that I found the little runt trying to pick my pocket in Solwhind.” He chuckled, his eyes growing distant. “He’s been with me for fifteen years since. Doesn’t speak much, but he’s a good lad.” He turned to stare up at the distant tops of the windows. “He’s saved my life on more than one occasion, though,” he said softly. “I’ll give him that.”

  Elaina wasn’t sure how much the word lad applied to Conrad, as he looked at least several years older than Nicholas. Still, she could see that Alastair wished to say nothing more on the subject, and she knew better than to push.

  It was intriguing, though, to think how many secrets were floating above them like clouds as they all sipped their tea and chatted amicably. They were each hiding something. For Lydia, it was her desperation. Though she was only eighteen, Elaina knew she was worried about growing old and dying a penniless maid.

  For Elaina, her gift was, as always, her secret.

  For Alastair, it was Conrad. And the fact that he was a royal spy.

  Too many secrets. If a romantic seed did eventually conspire between her cousin and Alastair, Ela
ina would have to make sure Lydia learned at least something about the true nature of his occupation. But for now, there was only today. Today, Alastair was the perfect gentleman, and Lydia the grateful recipient of any and all praise and adoration.

  “I apologize.” Alastair’s words interrupted Elaina’s thoughts. “But I am in need of the powder room. Where would it be? I’m afraid all this water in the air from the recent storm has me all sticky.”

  After Lydia had given him directions and he had gone, Elaina excused herself as well. She wanted to see the contents of the letter in her hand, but she wasn’t entirely sure Lydia wouldn’t demand to see it if they were left unattended by their guest.

  On her way to her room, however, she ran into Alastair again.

  “I cannot apologize enough,” he said as she drew nearer. “But I seem to be lost.”

  “It is no problem at all. Follow this hall to the end, and you will find another powder room there. It is not as large as our powder room downstairs, but it should be adequate.” As she turned to open her door, however, he reached out and gently put his hand on her arm.

  “Before I go and while we’re alone,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I’m afraid there is something I must admit that is not quite appropriate for your cousin to hear, due to the nature of my work.”

  “Yes?”

  “Prince Nicholas revealed to me some of his research concerning the deaths of the gifted.”

  “Oh?”

  “And while I have been hired by the king to examine the rebellion and its cause, I must confess that I think I’ve discovered something on the subject that will interest our prince greatly.”

  Elaina turned away from her door, too curious to go in now. “And what is that?”

  “I believe the Shadow and our killer of the gifted is one and the same!” he whispered, his eyes bright.

  Elaina gaped. “What proof do you have?”

  He shook his head. “Not enough to convince the king yet, I’m afraid. But I’ve seen too many coincidences to ignore the correlation completely.”