“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 she’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.”
Too heartsick to argue, Elaina shrugged out of the dirty, torn dress that had once been her finest. As she slipped into the pink gown, however, a new feeling of resolution filled her. Or rather, it was a feeling that she had long ago forgotten. Elaina went to the full-length mirror in the corner and turned before it.
A ridiculous longing took hold of her. If only he could see her in this dress.
“He won’t be able to take his eyes off you, you know.” Cynthia said smugly from the corner.
Elaina had to smile as she turned once again, the rosettes at the bottom of the dress billowing out as she did. And as she turned, something within her changed. A familiar fire, almost forgotten, was rekindled. Why shouldn’t he see her in this dress? She was a young woman of marriageable age, though most women attending the ball would be a few years her junior, closer to Alison’s age. And yet, why not?
Matilda wouldn’t take her. She was sure of that. But Elaina could still use her extended absence to make her escape. The Winters family always took at least one guard with them when they left. If she put her mind to it, Elaina could find a way to create a distraction and sneak out without Felix noticing.
She would wear the dress on the run if she had to.
But even as Elaina schemed, she was reminded of the frail figure in the bed. Cynthia seemed sure her time was limited, but there had been times in the past where she had said the same thing. Elaina couldn’t leave her alone, not while she still breathed.
She turned to ask Cynthia what to do, but by the time she had turned, Cynthia’s eyes were closed, a soft smile on her face. Elaina ran over to the old woman.
“Please, Cynthia! Give me a few more days! The ball isn’t for three weeks! You needn’t go now.”
But the old woman, eyes still closed, just shook her head. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” She drew a deep shuddering breath. “I know the prince will think so, too.”
Elaina wasn’t sure just how long she sat at Cynthia’s side counting her breaths. Minutes? Hours? She wanted to take the dress off for fear of dirtying it on the rough wooden floor, but removing the dress would cost her precious moments of what little life still clung to the old woman.
Eventually, however, Cynthia let out one breath and didn’t draw another in.
The tears fell silently, but for once, Elaina didn’t regret letting them fall. Yes, Cynthia had broken through her defenses. Yes, her father might have said that the old woman had made her weak. But Cynthia had been worth it.
Elaina wasn’t sure what time it was when she finally awakened once again. The sky was still black outside, but the hand that she clutched had finally gone cold. Elaina took the dress off listlessly and put her old clothes back on. Then she placed the dress in the back of one of the broken wardrobes in the attic, behind another moth-eaten coat, before heading to the other side of the house.
“And why are you waking me at this hour?” Matilda grumbled when Elaina entered her darkened room.
“I simply thought you should know that your mother is gone.” Was that her voice? It sounded dead.
“Huh.” Matilda yawned. “Finally.” She rolled over in bed. “I will send for the undertaker tomorrow morning. I expect not to be awakened again before that.”
Elaina trudged back across the manor and up the steps to the attic, ignoring the desire to once again enter Cynthia’s room. Instead, she pulled the gown from the wardrobe and went to sit beneath the window. How long had it been since she’d talked to the stars other than that one horrid night out on the docks?
As she threw open the shutters, Elaina knew her grief was making her reckless, but for once, she didn’t care.
Hello, little one.
Elaina closed her eyes and basked in the sound of their voices again. “I missed you,” she whispered.
We’ve been here all along.
“What do you see?” Elaina hugged the dress to her chest and snuggled beneath it like a blanket. “Tell me of the world. Just like you used to.”
We saw a woman pass into the Maker’s courts of bliss and eternity.
“How did she go?” Elaina held her breath, but she didn’t need to. As soon as they spoke, she could hear the smiles in their voices.
She passed knowing she was loved. After a life of riches and admiration, that was all she wanted in the end.
Elaina nodded. She wanted to ask more, but with the dress covering her like a blanket and the comforting lullabies of the stars, she finally let herself drift into the most peaceful sleep she could ever remember keeping.
47
Broken
“Cinders! Get up. The grave keeper’s boy is here to collect the body.”
Elaina managed to catch herself before she tumbled off the window seat where she’d fallen asleep. After another round of Matilda’s banging, however, she realized that she was still clutching the dress and the window was still open. She yanked the shutters closed and dashed over to the wardrobe where she stuffed the gown unceremoniously just before Matilda barged in.
“What is taking you so long?” She put her hands on her hips as Elaina rubbed her eyes and yawned. Elaina made sure to blink several times as though surprised before following Matilda into the hall. A young man stood behind her mistress looking quite red in the face, as though he at least had the decency to feel embarrassed about waking a young woman in her personal chamber.
“Take him to the room,” Matilda snapped. “And make sure he doesn’t steal anything. Fetch me when he’s done. I have work for you to do.”
Elaina nodded and led the young man to Cynthia’s room. She was vaguely aware that Matilda’s chores were sure to be horrendous, now Cynthia wasn’t there to occupy Elaina’s mornings or evenings. But the anticipation of Matilda’s evil co
uldn’t compare to the tightness in her chest as she watched him open a long bag and lay it out on the bed beside her friend’s body.
“Be careful,” she said without thinking. “Please.”
When he turned, however, she saw that his eyes were sympathetic, and she gave him a sad, grateful smile. His movements were gentle as he guided the bag over the body. At least someone was showing Cynthia the respect she deserved. Elaina wanted to turn away as he heaved the bag over his shoulder and took it downstairs to the cart that stood out in the yard. She couldn’t look away from the window, however, until the bag was in the cart and the cart had rumbled out of sight around the hedge.
Once Cynthia was gone for good, Elaina slowly made her way back up to her room. Perhaps if she was quick enough, she could properly stow the gown away where it wouldn’t be found by Matilda or by any pest that might nibble at its fabric. Because one truth was certain:
Now that Cynthia was gone, Elaina was going to escape this house of hell and go to the ball.
As she pushed the attic door open, however, she came to an abrupt halt. Her mouth opened, but no words would come out.
The beautiful rose silk gown lay all over the floor in pieces. In the midst of the pile of pink fabric sat Matilda, looking as composed as ever as she grasped yet another portion of the skirt and pulled it apart at the seam.
“Well done, Cinders,” she said with a pleasant smile. “You have done your work quite nicely. This silk will be the perfect addition to my daughters’ dresses to make them suitable for the ball.”
“You have no right!” Elaina cried out, falling to her knees and gathering a few of the beautiful pieces in her hands.
“I have every right!” Matilda stood, towering over Elaina as she hugged the dress’s remains to her chest. “You took something that was in my house, and as everything in my house belongs to me, you’re lucky I don’t have you arrested for theft!”
“It was a gift!” Elaina screamed.
“A gift she was not in the position to give.” Matilda dusted her hands off and began walking toward the door. “I expect you to have those added to my daughters’ gowns within the week.”
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said I will not!” Elaina jumped to her feet and threw the shreds on the ground. “I will not be party to this. She would have hated it, and I won’t sully her memory that way!”
Matilda only raised her eyebrows a little. “I’m not sure whether you’re aware of it or not, but there are many individuals in this city, reunified or not, who would pay a very, very high ransom for a girl who talks to the stars.”
Elaina stared at her in horror.
“No need to look so surprised. I’ve had my suspicions for a while, but your little performance last night thoroughly convinced me. Now believe me when I say that what I have put you through will be like a mother’s caress compared to what those people will do to you.”
Elaina felt the acid in her stomach move up her throat, and before she could stop herself, had fallen to her knees as she retched up the bile from her empty stomach onto the floor. Through blurred eyes, she saw Matilda close her eyes and sigh as a smile like that of a cat stretched across her face.
“How can you be like this?” Elaina rasped through her burning throat. “How can you stand to be so cruel?”
To her surprise, Matilda pulled a dusty stool out of the clutter and seated herself upon it. “You loved my mother.”
Elaina glared at her from the floor, still unable to sit upright.
“I wasn’t as deaf to your secret conversations as you might have thought, but that is beside the point for now. I think you ought to know, however, that my mother was not the person she led you to think. No, my mother was every bit as cold and calculating as I am. And it served her well.”
“She changed.”
Matilda shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But that doesn’t alter what she did that taught me to be the way . . . the woman I am today.” She gave a dark chuckle. “I don’t know if you’ve ever thought yourself in love, but I did once.” Her eyes grew distant. “He was the son of a wealthy lord, and he lived several houses down from ours. When my mother learned that I was infatuated with the boy, she told me I needed to seduce him immediately before another girl could take him.”
Elaina frowned but said nothing. She wanted to deny Cynthia’s ability to suggest such a thing, but by the old woman’s own admission, she had done things she regretted. Elaina suddenly didn’t want to hear the end to this story. Not when the pain of Cynthia’s loss was still so raw.
“I was too shy, though. I was of merely sixteen, maybe seventeen years, and had known the boy only a few weeks when she made the suggestion . . . or edict, rather. When I told her I couldn’t, unbeknownst to me she went to one of my friends. Now, this friend also happened to have fallen for the same boy. My mother must have watched us at our frequent parties enough to deduce our admiration.”
Elaina studied her bracelet, unwilling to show any interest in such a story.
“She gave my friend the same advice. Unlike me, however, my friend had no scruples about taking my mother’s advice. Within a month, there was a wedding.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Wouldn’t you know it, they had a baby boy nine months later.”
“Why?” Elaina hadn’t meant to ask the question or even acknowledge her mistress, but the question had popped out of her without her permission.
“Because I needed to learn an important lesson, one that has kept me well and fed and housed ever since.” Matilda’s voice grew sharp once again. “That I cannot rely on the goodness of others to sustain me.” She turned her beady eyes back on Elaina, who still sat upon the floor. “You’re not so unlike me, though, you know.”
Elaina recoiled. “I’m nothing like you.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. You think you’re all alone here without the other servants, but has their absence really made a difference? Even when they were here, you kept them at arm’s length. You didn’t ask for their help, and you were loath to accept it. Don’t look at me like that. Come, you can’t tell me you didn’t try to refuse my mother’s help in such a small gift as that dress, something she would obviously never wear again. You didn’t want to be in her debt. Because that would mean you would have to rely on someone else other than yourself. And relying on others creates opportunity for weakness.”
Elaina wanted to throw things, to shout that it was all a lie. But the shards of rose-colored gown that surrounded her were like witnesses in a trial. Each lonely piece was a memory. If only she could cover her ears and deny it all.
She had resented the first guard requested by her father. She had pushed Nicholas away when he’d tried to comfort her after her father died. She had ignored her aunt’s advice and jumped headlong into danger by attending the meeting. Even after she was enslaved, she’d done just as Matilda had said, wanting to rely on the other servants as little as possible. She had worked to show she was strong and so everyone around her knew it.
But that didn’t make her like Matilda.
Did it?
Matilda shrugged and stood. “Not that it matters to me. You will either do as I say and fix up the gowns, or someone will be here to collect you in the morning.” She began to walk past Elaina but paused by her side. Lifting the heel of her stylish boot, she brought it down upon the loose part of Elaina’s wooden bracelet with a sickening crunch. “I do actually know who you are, in case you were wondering. But I like the name Cinders better. It suits you.”
48
North
The next two weeks flew by in such a blur that Elaina couldn’t recall much of what really took place, nor did she care to. For the days were a mix of insults, cruel jokes, and more chores than ever, now that she had ball gowns to sew.
The house itself was a flurry of activity. Men and women came in and out of the home carrying out the old furniture and bringing new pieces in to replace them. Elaina briefly wondered where Matilda had
obtained the money for such luxurious pieces. It mattered little to her, though, until the eve of the family’s departure, when she found the dresses she had slaved over discarded behind the house.
Dread filled her as she carefully gathered up the tattered remains of the gowns and went into the house to investigate why the gowns had been treated so. When she reached Dinah’s room, however, she found both girls dancing around with armfuls of new gowns in every color imaginable.
“Where did these come from?” She dropped the pathetic pile in her arms and entered the room in a daze, daring to pick up a yellow evening gown that had slipped from Dinah’s arms during her waltz.
“Don’t touch that!” Alison snatched the gown up and threw it behind her on the floor. “You’re going to dirty it!”
“But where did you get them? And if you have new gowns, then why did . . .”
“Did you really think Mother would have let you go to the ball?” Dinah tossed her new clothes on the bed and flipped her headful of curls. “Particularly after your infamous betrayal of the crown?” Her green eyes glittered. “We can’t have our older sister shaming the family that way now. Suppose they recognized you? Then the prince would never talk to us.”
“Really, Cinders.” Alison threw her bony arm around her sister’s waist. “She’s right, you know. Our beloved prince can’t be forced to relive such misery—”
Something inside Elaina snapped. She grabbed Alison by the arm and shoved her hard into the wall. Pressing her elbow against the girl’s throat, she leaned forward until she was inches from Alison’s long pale face. Dinah tried to pull on her arm, but Elaina’s anger made her strong, and with one hand she grabbed Dinah’s wrist and twisted until Dinah let go with a cry. Then she turned back to Alison.
Cinders, Stars, and Glass Slippers: A Retelling of Cinderella (The Classical Kingdoms Collection Book 6) Page 33