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

by Brittany Fichter

  Elaina balked, unsure whether or not her voice would be disguised as well as her face, but was saved from answering when someone else touched her on the elbow.

  “My lady.” A young man bowed, probably a good three years younger than Elaina. She had to hide a smile at the hope in his young face. “Would you do me the honor of joining me in this dance?”

  Elaina was about to decline his offer until she realized what a good view she might have from the dance floor. Also, she would be saved from speaking with Matilda.

  Sending up a quick prayer that she might remember the dances Nicholas had taught her and that none had been added in her absence, she nodded politely back at Matilda and turned to the young man.

  “It would be my pleasure, sir.”

  She didn’t have time to bask in her relief. For though the dance floor certainly had a better view than her previous hiding spot, Elaina found that the dances were much faster than she remembered. She scarcely had time to reorient herself between tunes, and every time she tried, another young man would come asking her for a dance.

  It was after a dozen or so tunes that Elaina decided dancing had not been her brightest idea. Just as she finished curtsying to her partner and managing to excuse herself, however, she found herself held securely in the arms of someone new.

  “Most beautiful lady. I am the prince’s official emissary for this particular event, and it would be a great honor if I might speak with you for a moment about dancing with the prince himself.” Alastair’s request was phrased politely enough and probably would have pleased most young women into fainting, but the firmness with which he took her arms for the dance made it obvious that his wasn’t a request at all.

  And the look in his eyes was far less hesitant than Matilda’s had been.

  Elaina’s first instinct was to run. And yet she stayed put. This might be her best opportunity to search for the dagger, or to at least get a sense of where it might be. Though she had no idea as to how she would actually get it from him should she find it, Elaina gave him a practiced smile and curtsied deeply. She doubted he would try anything too bold in public, particularly with the king nearby. At least, that’s what she hoped.

  As the dance began and Elaina carried out the customary skirt swishes from side to side, she studied her partner. His hair, tied behind his neck neatly with a black ribbon, was no more gray than it had been the first time she’d met him. His pale eyes glittered as he watched her back, his excitement making him look younger than she knew him to be. It also made him look hungry.

  “What is your name, fine lady?” he asked as they moved in a slow spin.

  Briefly, she panicked and said the first name she could think of. “Cinderlaina.”

  He cocked his head. “That’s an odd name.”

  “Pardon me, sir, but that is not a very gracious thing to say.” She batted her eyes through her mask and pretended to be affronted.

  “You are quite right. Please forgive me. It is simply . . . unique. And I’m sure the prince will agree. Where does it originate from?”

  Elaina berated herself for not planning better with the finer details. Cinderlaina was possibly the dullest name she could have come up with, but it had been all that came to mind. Now, as she struggled to remain calm, she felt as though she were playing a dangerous game, the kind where a predator toyed with its prey. And unfortunately, she was fast becoming the prey rather than the predator she had hoped to be.

  The dance finished, and Elaina was no closer to finding the location of the dagger. Feeling the need to escape and recover before trying again, Elaina began to curtsy, but Alastair’s long thin fingers never loosened their grip on hers. Instead, they tightened, and as they did, Elaina felt a surge of power and nearly gasped.

  The surge was similar to that which she had felt years before when meeting King Everard. But this touch was different. It felt sour, as though something within him had spoiled. Rather than the pure, pulsing light she had felt from the king, Alastair’s grip moved through her, chaotic and turbulent, like an erratic set of explosions rather than a steady flame.

  Elaina could no longer bring herself to smile as he touched her. She could only stare at him as a small triumphant smile touched the corners of his mouth. The others were clearing from the dance floor, yet he held her firmly in place.

  This had been a terrible idea.

  Just as she was getting ready to cause a scene, however, another hand placed itself firmly on Alastair’s shoulder.

  “Alastair, my friend, thank you for helping me find such a lovely creature as this lady. I think I shall enjoy this next dance immensely.”

  Elaina tore her gaze from Alastair’s sudden look of hate to find herself staring into a pair of ice blue eyes.

  It was the prince.

  * * *

  Alastair was slower to obey than Elaina had ever seen him, but he finally let go of her hand and put a thin smile on his face as he bowed to his prince and then Elaina. She felt dual waves of relief and disappointment as he stepped away and Nicholas took his place. She felt safer with Nicholas at her side, even with his threat of execution in mind, but she still hadn’t found the dagger.

  “My lady.” He bowed. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in my court.” His voice rumbled even deeper than Elaina remembered it, and it sent a traitorous ripple of nerves through her body.

  “That is because I did not grow up here, sire.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “A variety of places.” She shrugged as the musicians signaled for the next dance to begin. “Mostly in Solwhind.” Truly, she felt as though she had aged eons during her time in the eastern city.

  To her surprise, he did not smile. Instead, he started to dance as stiffly as a guard might change his position at the turn of the hour. “Are your parents here?”

  “I hope I do not seem at all rude, sire,” she laughed, “but is it customary in the capital to interrogate one’s dance partner on the first dance?”

  He bowed his head as much as the dance allowed. “Of course not. I apologize, my lady. I hope you will forgive me. I simply do not have the time to make small talk the way I once did.”

  Elaina gawked up at him, unable to conceal her surprise. Who was this stranger? Yes, the eyes were Nicholas’s, and the dark unruly hair that even now tried to stick out in different directions despite its newer shorter cut, was surely his. But the carefree laugh and the dramatic gestures were nowhere to be found. Was the Nicholas she knew gone completely?

  In his place stood a man with the unmistakable mannerisms of a soldier. His shoulders and arms were indeed wider than they had been the last time she had seen them, and his face had lost any of the soft boyish lines it might have held the last time they’d met. Instead, his face was far more angular. Stress lines, nearly invisible, edged his eyes and mouth, and a scar puckered on the lower right side of his jaw.

  For some inexplicable reason, Elaina had a strong urge to reach up and touch the scar, but thankfully, the dance kept her hands busy. She tried not to shiver as his hands encircled her waist.

  “Have you been to the palace before?” he asked. His voice was friendlier this time, but the intensity of his gaze didn’t waver as they stayed trained on her face.

  “As I said, I grew up mostly in Solwhind, sire. Why do you ask?”

  For the first time, he looked as though he might smile. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

  She laughed, but butterflies flew in frenzies around her stomach. “Surely I am not the first girl to take a wrong turn.”

  He conceded this with a nod, but she could see the curiosity burn even more brightly in his eyes.

  With Nicholas, Elaina didn’t feel at risk as she had with Alastair, but still she found herself running, evading each question the same way she moved in time to the music. A twirl here, a dip there, anything to avoid being caught. She wasn’t sure if he truly recognized her through her mother’s disguise, but she was confident that he was suspicious.


  That small, annoying voice of reason reminded her that she needed to be looking for the dagger, but every time she looked up, Alastair was there, watching them intently from the side of the dance floor. And whenever she looked at the other side, Conrad Fuller was waiting as well, though he was mostly hidden behind a wide pillar.

  She needed to get on with her mission. But the cowardly part of her was more than glad to have Nicholas by her side. As they moved on to a second dance and then another, there was also a ridiculous, naive part of her that silently pleaded for him not to let go. The familiar warmth of his hands on hers was intoxicating, and she felt herself slipping as her anger, frustration, sorrow, and longing all began colliding once again.

  “Tongue tied in a sheet bend?” the prince asked casually.

  Elaina laughed. “Precisely.”

  As soon she spoke it, though, Elaina knew it was the wrong thing to say. An average girl should not have known what a sheet bend knot was. But there was no way to take it back. And from the sudden brightness of his eyes, Nicholas knew that, too. She had walked right into his trap.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know,” Elaina felt herself grasping for words, air, anything to help her speak again, “what hour it is? I’m afraid I cannot hear the bells toll from here.”

  “Half past the eleventh hour.” He drew closer. “Is there somewhere you need to be?”

  She extracted her hands from his and dropped into a clumsy curtsy. “I am afraid I need to refresh myself in the powder room. Where would I find that?”

  He frowned, but pointed her in the right direction.

  “Thank you!” she called over her shoulder as she lifted her skirts and fairly ran. Once she was in the powder room amongst the other ladies, she leaned against the wall and put a hand up to her face. Her cheeks were flushed and far warmer than usual. She should never have given him so much time. Once again, her foolish infatuation had won out over reason, and she had wasted an entire night of searching for the dagger because of it.

  After several minutes in the powder room, avoiding the annoyed glares from the women who apparently recognized her as the prince’s dance partner, Elaina peeked outside. As soon as she saw that the prince was engaged in a conversation with another gentleman, she turned and ran toward the entrance.

  Only to run smack into Lydia.

  Elaina quickly curtsied. “Pardon me, my lady.”

  “Of course. The . . .”

  They stared at each other for what felt like eternity. Elaina’s blood drained from her face as she waited for her cousin to make the announcement, to tell everyone that the traitor had returned, or at least to demand to know what Elaina was doing at the ball or even in Ashland for that matter.

  To her surprise, however, Lydia finally looked at the ground and smoothed her dress nervously. “The fault was mine.” Lydia spoke politely, but the way her brows furrowed betrayed her suspicions.

  Elaina didn’t wait to see what conclusion her cousin reached. She darted out to the main doors and down the many white steps to the drive where her unusual coach was waiting. She fairly leapt inside, and not a moment too soon. As soon as the door was closed behind her, the coach took off at a frantic pace, down the drive toward the city.

  Elaina leaned back against the cushions and tried to catch her breath. That had been too close. Midnight was only minutes away, and she was no nearer to finding the dagger. To make matters worse, however, Elaina was dangerously close to losing both her cover, it seemed, and her heart.

  53

  A Ball of Games

  “So who was that beauty you were dancing with all last night?” Nicholas’s father slapped him on the back, making Nicholas lose his grip on the absurdly small button of his uniform’s sleeve that he had spent the last five minutes trying to close. “You know we have servants to help with such things.” Xander waved a servant over.

  Nicholas yielded his sleeve to the servant. “Habit, I suppose,” he said tersely. “No one buttons your sleeves for you on a warship.”

  “No changing the topic. Who was the girl?”

  “I danced with many women, Father.”

  “Surely you can’t be that absentminded. I’m talking about the one you only spent four dances in a row with.”

  “I didn’t get her name.” He didn’t need to, but he wasn’t about to tell his father that.

  His father shook his head. “Boy, what good is it to let you choose your own wife when you’re too dim to even get their names?”

  His sleeves properly buttoned, Nicholas tugged his uniform into place. “It was only the first ball, Father. I have two more to make my decision.”

  His father began to respond, but the trumpets announced the beginning of the second night, much to Nicholas’s relief. He waited until his father had gone to collect his mother, however, before he exited his chambers to make his own way down to the ballroom.

  It was moments like this that he missed Henri most acutely. If his friend had been allowed back to the palace for the ball, Nicholas would have told him how he was certain that he had found Elaina. Or nearly certain, at least.

  Had Henri been there, he would have said something about how daft Nicholas was for doubting her, and Nicholas would have had to agree. But there was no Henri to talk such sense into him, so Nicholas did his best on his own.

  He had singled her out too much the night before. If she returned tonight, he would need to be more careful in interspersing their meetings. Her reluctance to dance with him had been obvious at first, something he couldn’t deny that he deserved. Actually, he deserved far worse than simple reluctance. After pronouncing her exile and decreeing her future execution should she disobey him, and then failing to save her from the life of enslavement he had inadvertently sentenced her to, Nicholas deserved little more than her wrath and hatred.

  And yet, he dared to hope.

  But if she hated him so much and was so reluctant to be seen with him, why was she at the ball to begin with? And how in the depths had she escaped that woman’s mercenary and found such a glamorous gown?

  How did one girl get more mysterious the longer one knew her?

  He didn’t have time to ponder this, though, because the palace steward was waving him up onto the dais. Straightening his jacket one more time, Nicholas took a deep breath and left the shadows to face the crowd.

  “I want to begin by thanking you for coming out for another night of celebration,” he said when all the trumpets had died down. “This is turning out to be the grandest birthday celebration anyone could ask for, much less your humble prince. As with last night, please enjoy the refreshments, the wine, and as much dancing as you can manage.”

  As he continued to babble on, Nicholas scanned the crowd for her. But there were too many faces, and his heart sank as he made a final bow and turned to pay his respects to his parents sitting on their thrones behind him.

  Self-doubt continued to fester as girl after girl was introduced to him, and he was forced to dance with them all. And even worse was the necessity of making conversation with hidden faces behind ridiculous masks. He had introduced the concept of a masquerade at the last minute after overhearing Alastair’s conversation with the woman in the garden. He had hoped that a mask would make it harder for Alastair or the woman to recognize Elaina, should she come. But now he wasn’t so sure it wasn’t making it more difficult for him to find her, too.

  Last night he had been certain it was Elaina. She had even fallen for his question about the sailor’s knot. And several times, her thumb had moved up to worry her lip. But in all honesty, more than two years had passed since he had seen her in decent light without a fire roaring between them. Was she really so different as the woman in the garden claimed she would be?

  “Your Highness, are you looking for someone?”

  Nicholas jumped when Alastair spoke. Why did the infernal little man have to get so close to speak with him? Nicholas bowed politely to his partner and let her go, ignoring the pout she gave him as h
e thanked her for the dance. Turning to Alastair, he tried to make his voice cheerful. “I am looking for my future wife, am I not?”

  Alastair chuckled. “But more specifically, sire, are you not looking for a certain girl from last night? Everyone was rather sure you had favored that little sparkling beauty above all the others.”

  How Nicholas had ever found Alastair anything but annoying was beyond him. I would favor you not breathing down my neck, he wanted to snap. Instead, he said, “I would appreciate some wine, if you would be so kind. All of this dancing has made me thirsty.”

  He didn’t miss Alastair’s hint of a frown before he bowed and left. Relieved to have a moment to himself, Nicholas had turned back to the crowd when a flash of green caught his eye.

  “Your Highness,” a chubby man bowed and shoved a young woman forward, “my name is Bret Tanner of the southern border. Allow me to introduce my daughter—”

  “I do sincerely apologize,” Nicholas said, trying to see into the corner of the room where he had glimpsed the flash of green. “But I fear I have something pressing I must attend to.”

  The man gaped like a fish as Nicholas walked past them, but Nicholas didn’t have time to make amends. He only knew he needed to find her.

  Sure enough, a girl in a dazzling blue-green gown was standing just behind a pastry tower. She looked like Elaina, petite with honey-colored hair, and she kept touching her thumb to her lip. He stopped before approaching her, however, and studied her from a distance. She was squinting as she peered out from behind the treats, a half-eaten scone in her hand. What was she looking for?

  Nicholas gathered his courage and prepared himself for ultimate rejection as he strode over to stand behind her.

  “If you told me what you were looking for, I might be able to help,” he said, wishing she would hear the true meaning behind his words.

  She started a little at the sound of his voice. Turning, she stared at him for a long moment before swallowing the bite she had just taken. The quick sideways glance she gave the crowd gave Nicholas the feeling that she wanted to dart. He would just have to pounce first.