“Meaning . . .” Nicholas looked back at his parents warily.
“Your father,” his mother said in a soft voice, “believes it is time you take a wife.”
Nicholas did his best to act surprised. He would have been, had she not secretly called him and Alastair together two weeks before to warn them of what his father was planning.
Of course, that didn’t make this meeting any more enjoyable. He motioned to a nearby servant carrying a platter of goblets. Only after he had downed an entire cup of wine and had its warm courage rolling around in his belly could he look his father in the eye.
“And I suppose from the crowd here,” he gestured at the dozen individuals gathered behind his parents, “that you already have someone in mind.”
His mother pursed her lips and sent his father a disapproving look, but the king ignored it.
“That I do.”
“Well then?”
Xander nodded at one of the lower magistrates, who pulled out a parchment and skimmed it. “Lady Amelia Seamus.”
Nicholas nearly choked on the bread roll he’d just popped in his mouth. “You can’t be serious.” Not even his mother had anticipated such a poor choice.
“And why not?” His father scowled.
Nicholas scowled right back. “She’s the daughter of one of the Shadow’s most ardent supporters!”
“Was the daughter of one of the Shadow’s most ardent supporters. It seems that he is willing to not only pledge his allegiance to the crown again if we make this alliance, but also guarantee the loyalty of all those under his influence. Which is many, I can assure you.”
“You don’t have to tell me about his influence,” Nicholas retorted. “I’ve been to Solwhind. I’ve seen the consequences of his influence.” He shook his head then looked at the small crowd. “I would like a word with my parents. Alone.”
Some of the lords sniffed haughtily, but they did as he asked, going to stand a ways off where the grass of the back lawn met the sand.
Nicholas turned back to his parents. “The blockade is working. The bailiffs have returned, and we’ve taken most of their sea ports, ships, and ammunition.” Nicholas threw his hands up and ran them through his hair. “Over half the city has already signed oaths swearing allegiance to the crown, and more are doing so every day, according to Alastair. I cannot believe you would stoop to negotiating with evil, particularly to speed a process that has already begun!”
His mother gave him a nearly invisible nod, but his father scoffed.
“Dale Seamus has promised cooperation from dozens of the local leaders in return for his daughter’s hand. It will seal the war’s outcome.”
“Coercion does not guarantee allegiance. It only means I will be tied to the whims of my father-in-law for the rest of the man’s miserable life.”
His father rubbed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly kind. “I know this is hard for you. This girl is not Elaina, nor will she ever be. But would you at least give her a chance?”
Nicholas resisted the urge to flinch. Instead, he planted his feet firmly and crossed his arms. “No, I will not. I want to find my own wife.”
A small knowing smile lit his mother’s face.
Xander, however, snorted. “And just how do you propose to do that?”
Nicholas took a deep breath. Hopefully he could present the idea as well to his father as he had to the mirror that morning. But it was now or never.
“If it is peace and goodwill that you want, then I suggest holding a ball.”
“A ball?”
“Yes. Invite not only the nobility and the daughters of our magistrates, but every eligible young lady from every corner of the kingdom. Let them all come as equals so that I may judge for myself, with your blessing, of course, who has the true heart of a queen.”
His father scowled, but he didn’t immediately refuse, which was encouraging. Alastair had been right. His father could not argue with the wisdom of such a plan, at least not immediately. The question was whether true wisdom would win out over pride in the end. And with his father, Nicholas could never predict which would take the day.
“The marriage most likely won’t be of noble blood that way,” his father finally said.
“It wouldn’t be of noble blood with the alliance you’re proposing, either. Miss Seamus is only a lady because her father bought the title for her after siding with the Shadow. Everyone knows her father was only a wealthy cattle owner, magistrate or not.”
Xander glared at him for a long time. Nicholas could feel the eyes of the advisers and magistrates on his back as well.
“Very well,” his father finally growled. “But only on one condition. The ball will be held on your twenty-second birthday, no later. You will be allowed three consecutive balls, which should be more than sufficient to find a suitable bride. But if you cannot find this perfect bride by the end of the third ball, you will marry the girl I choose for you.”
Nicholas wanted very much to grin and hug his mother to congratulate her on their success. Instead, he bowed his head. “As you wish, Father.”
As long as everything fell into place, three balls should be more than enough time to find the girl who talked to the stars.
45
Invited
In the days following Alastair’s visit, two distinct sets of voices sounded again and again in Elaina’s head.
Someone needs you.
The stars had been right. Because of her, Nicholas and the other captives had rowed to safety. In the two months since, Cynthia had also managed to recover from her foot injury, although it had been several weeks before Elaina was able to breathe more easily about her friend’s health.
But there were moments when Elaina wanted nothing more than to simply crack in two. She didn’t dare try to talk to or even hear the stars now, not after what Alastair had told Matilda. And she missed them. After a lifetime of having the stars as her constant companions, Elaina felt like a void in her heart had opened and might never be filled again. Was life always going to be like this? Cynthia often told her to take heart, reminding her of the reports of the kingdom’s reunification, and she was encouraged by the great numbers of bailiffs returning to the city, but most of the time, none of that mattered. For Elaina was still very much in Matilda’s grasp. She proved as much by cutting off Elaina’s trips to the market, hiring a local girl to make her runs instead.
The second voice, however, was the one that drove Elaina on day after day. With every step that made her feet ache and every harsh word from Matilda and her spawn, Elaina rehashed the familiar words in her head.
I am strong enough.
No, Elaina. You’re not.
Her father hadn’t believed she was strong enough. Matilda was determined that she wouldn’t be strong enough. But she was. And Elaina strove every day to prove that. Whether he was dead or not, she was going to prove to her father that she was strong enough for the sea in its ancient perilous beauty. Strong enough to survive Matilda.
Today, Elaina’s dry hands stung as she put new hay into the horse’s stall. “The switchings I can take,” she told the little black cat as she wound herself around Elaina’s ankles. “It’s the games she plays that I can’t abide. Oh, come now, Sheba. Be patient. You’ll get your milk, but only after I finish filling Sir Reginald’s trough. He deserves it after a full day of pulling them.”
She smiled to herself as she shooed the cat away. She didn’t dare talk to the animals whenever Matilda was anywhere nearby. But when Matilda was gone, the animals seemed to tolerate Elaina’s idle talk well enough. “And don’t go teasing Mrs. McDougal,” she continued to the playful little cat, who had moved from being underfoot to pawing at one of the chickens. “I need her to lay an egg for breakfast tomorrow. Dog, come here. Get this little troublemaker away—” She paused, sure she’d heard the pull bell ring at the door.
When the bell rang a second time, Elaina dropped the hay and ran to the house, dusting herself off along the way
. While she was hardly proud of the position she held in Matilda’s home, it was irksome to appear filthier than most paid servants whenever she greeted someone new at the door.
Whoever was ringing the bell must have been in quite a hurry, for by the time she had pulled the door open, she was just in time to see a blue coattail disappear around the hedge into the street. She followed him to the gate, which was now the edge of her world.
It was a royal courier.
Her heart sank as she watched him jog on to the next manor. Perhaps, if she had reached the door in time, she might have invited him in for some refreshment and slipped him a message about her predicament. He could have notified the bailiffs at least. But with Felix’s eyes heavy on her from his post at the edge of the yard, Elaina could only sigh and start back toward the house.
That’s when she saw the letter.
She snatched it up, and her hands shook as she tried to open it. Why would a royal courier be going from house to house? Why would he leave them a letter?
Elaina had just succeeded in breaking the familiar blue seal when the letter was plucked from her hands.
“Reading our messages now, are you?” Matilda scowled at her.
“The royal courier was here!” Elaina explained, wishing she’d taken the letter and run to the stable. “He—”
But Matilda had stopped in her tracks. Her eyes grew so wide they looked like they might roll out of her head. “Girls!” she shrieked. “There is to be a ball!”
“A ball?” Dinah gaped.
“Where?” Alison pulled at her mother’s arm.
Matilda shook her off and read the letter aloud.
To the citizens of Ashland,
In light of the kingdom’s reunification, Crown Prince Nicholas Alexander Calvin Gabriel Whealdmar of Ashland will be hosting three balls. Every eligible woman of marriageable age is invited to attend along with her family, for it shall be there that the prince chooses his bride.
Elaina felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach. After two and a half years, she hadn’t dared hope Nicholas still cared for her, let alone that he might defy his father and wait to find her. Not after he had been the one to exile her. And yet, the realization that he would very soon be wed to another made her want to curl up in a corner and never awaken again.
“When is it, Mother?” Dinah was now as energetic as her sister had been a moment before, bouncing on the toes of her slippers. More of her wild black hair fell out of place every time she jumped.
“In three weeks’ time,” Matilda said to her daughter, but she was looking closely at Elaina. “Cinders, why do you look ill all of a sudden?”
Elaina tried her best to pull together a smile, but she knew her mistress would see right through it. “I was only thinking of home, Madame. And how much I should long to return for even three nights, just to see the countryside.”
Matilda didn’t answer, but her eyes took on that devilish gleam of delight.
“Mother, we haven’t suitable dresses to wear!”
“What shall we do with our old gowns? They don’t fit! We can’t be seen by the prince in such rags!”
Matilda refolded the letter calmly. “No need to fret. The neighbor’s girl will run to the silk shop and purchase all the new materials, and Cinders shall make you new gowns.”
Elaina shook her head. “Beg your pardon, Madame, but the silk merchant said he will no longer extend the family credit.”
For one long moment, Matilda looked as though murder might not be beneath her. After a moment, though, she surprised Elaina by turning and smiling kindly at her daughters. “Well then, Cinders will just have to fix up your dresses and make them stunning for the balls as they are. Go pick three each and consider the changes you want made to them.”
“Fix their dresses for the ball?” Elaina echoed. “Beg your pardon, but with what?”
“That is your problem, Cinders. I just expect it done in time for us to leave in two weeks.”
Elaina gaped at her mistress. “Madame! I am capable of many things. I care for your animals, and I cook your food. I serve tea, mend holes, scrub floors, wash your clothes, and care for your aging mother. But of the many things I can do, this is not one of them. Turning old clothes into fine silk?” She shook her head in disbelief. “This is not my gift!”
“Then what is your gift?”
Elaina snapped her mouth shut and glowered at her mistress. “Sweeping cinders, Madame.”
Matilda’s serpentine eyes swept over Elaina as though seeing her anew. Her subtle smile made Elaina’s stomach roll.
“Yes,” Matilda said softly. “You certainly look it.” She turned and began to head for the parlor but paused without turning at the door. “Gift or not, you will find a way to fix up my daughters’ dresses and make them into decent, modern gowns of style, or you will regret it.” Elaina could hear a smile in her words. “I have friends in high places . . . or rather, friends in low places who you would not be keen on meeting should you fail.”
46
All She Wanted
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Elaina. She bounced around between her rekindled anger at Nicholas, anger at his father, anger at Matilda, worry that Matilda had picked up on her slip about her gift, and pain that she tried very hard not to entertain.
For if she let her pain see the light of day, it would consume her.
“What has my daughter done this time?” Cynthia asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’ve slammed everything you’ve touched tonight, from the door to my stockings trunk.”
Elaina paused and took a deep breath, leaning against a bedpost to compose herself. “Forgive me, Cynthia. I just never knew Matilda’s madness could be so far reaching.”
“Come here.” The old woman patted the edge of her bed. “Tell me what happened.”
Elaina knew better than to argue. Cynthia always won such battles. With a wan smile, she did as she was told.
“It appears the reunification of the country is complete,” she said, staring at her bruised, calloused hands. “The prince has announced that he’s holding a ball in three weeks to find his future bride.”
“Ah.”
“And that’s not the worst of it. Matilda has threatened me with her . . . unsavory friends should I fail to fix the girls’ gowns in time for the ball.” She shrugged and buried her face in her hands. “I only just learned to mend a torn seam before Gram left. I can’t remake gowns that have been tattered for a year now.”
“Forgive me for prying, but I hardly think the damaged gowns are your greatest priority right now.”
Elaina pulled her face out of her hands and stared at Cynthia. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you need to see your prince more than anything, or rather, let him see you. If there was ever a time for you to find your freedom, it’s now.”
Elaina began to shake her head, but then she noticed Cynthia’s plate, which had been left on the edge of her bedside table. “You haven’t touched your food.” She bit the inside of her lip. “You hardly looked at your breakfast either. Are you feeling unwell?”
Cynthia just leaned back into her pillows and gave Elaina a tired smile. “The Maker takes everyone sometime, Cinders. I believe I shall be joining him soon.”
“No!” Elaina jumped off the bed and knelt by Cynthia’s side. When she took Cynthia’s frail hands, however, their papery skin was colder than Elaina had ever felt it. “You have been the one who’s helped me get through these years!” She pulled one of those papery hands to her cheek and closed her eyes. “You can’t leave me now. Here.” She jumped up and grabbed the plate of food. “Just have something to eat, and you’ll feel better in the morning! You’ll grow strong again, and—”
“Child, I am the reason you stayed behind.”
Elaina shook her head, but even as she watched, Cynthia’s breaths grew more and more shallow. Or had they been that way this morning, too? Elaina wished sh
e’d paid more attention.
“Go to that chest over there, the blue one.” Cynthia pointed a thin hand at a chest beneath the window.
Elaina obeyed. She’d never opened this particular chest before. Inside was a faded blanket covered in moth holes. But upon Cynthia’s instruction, she moved the blanket aside. Beneath it was a shiny pile of pink silk. Elaina gasped as she held it up in the light. It was a little out of mode, perhaps, but the material had very clearly been cut and sewn by a superbly talented seamstress. Rosettes of white, pink, and red silk ribbon were sewn into the dusty rose bodice and layered skirts. Miniature pearls and other glittering little gems no larger than seeds had been expertly stitched into the neckline and shoulders.
It was possibly the loveliest gown Elaina had ever seen.
“It’s a bit old fashioned, but then, so am I,” Cynthia said. “I think it should fit you rather well, though, without needing too many alterations.” She reached out and stroked the gown’s skirts lovingly. “It was my favorite gown. And now it’s yours.”
“But Cynthia—”
“Because you are going to the ball.”
Elaina shook her head, though for some reason her disobedient arms clutched the dress to her chest. “I highly doubt Matilda will let me go, let alone wear a gown more beautiful than her daughters’. Besides,” she sniffed, “who would stay with you?”
Cynthia shook her head and waved her hand dismissively in the air. “Don’t you see, Cinders? You sacrificed your life to remain with me. Now the Maker is giving me a chance to go to eternal bliss . . . and you a chance to find a true home. See how merciful he is?”
Still clutching the dress, Elaina ran and threw her arms around the old woman’s neck, squeezing her eyes shut to hold in the tears. “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.
“I’m the one that’s leaving, you little ninny,” Cynthia whispered back. “Now,” she pulled back and wiped her own eyes, “stop this nonsense and try on that dress. I want to at least see it on you.”
Cinders, Stars, and Glass Slippers: A Retelling of Cinderella Page 32