Disdain: A Cinderella Retelling (Tales of Cinder Book 2)

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Disdain: A Cinderella Retelling (Tales of Cinder Book 2) Page 13

by M. J. Haag


  “How did your mother die, Eloise?”

  I thought of the amulet, and my throat constricted.

  “Why does anyone die? Because their bodies fail them in some way. My mother was weak for a very long time, and it only grew worse as the years passed. I believe your father knows something about that. You should ask him.”

  There was a collective gasp this time.

  “Your mother’s name is known by the Crown. Yours is not.”

  “Odd, considering I live on royal lands.”

  “Enough! You waste my time.”

  “And you waste mine,” I said.

  The guard slapped me again so forcefully my head turned. I swallowed hard and slowly straightened.

  “You dare rebuke me?” the Prince asked.

  “I dare,” I agreed quietly. I lifted my head to look at him once more, my voice rising. “As the sovereign heir, it is your duty to protect the weak and the innocent. And by the rumored body count, I would say you’re failing quite miserably. Open your eyes, Your Royal Magnificence, before you lose your kingdom.”

  “That sounds decidedly like a threat.”

  I couldn’t disagree with him, but I didn’t know what else to say to make him understand that the true threat was still waiting to be discovered.

  There was another murmur behind the Prince, and one of his shadowy advisors stepped forward to whisper in his ear.

  “What do you know of magic?” the prince asked.

  “I know that it exists and that the King believes some of his people are dying because of it.”

  “Do you know why they are dying? Do you know the purpose behind these attacks?”

  I snorted.

  “I hope you have a better way to determine the guilty, Your Royal Benevolence, than questions that will only be answered with stout denials.”

  “Explain yourself,” the old man said.

  “If you believe me to be the person responsible, how do you honestly think I would answer? I would claim my innocence just as ardently as any innocent person would.”

  The Prince stared at me.

  “My advisors are whispering behind me, debating your innocence for various reasons. Why should I spare you?”

  My throat tightened around the words I raged to say. I lowered my head and took a few quietly wheezing breaths to calm myself. When I lifted my head again, I had the sense they were all watching me.

  “Because I’m not afraid to show that I’m angry.”

  He gave an exasperated sigh and looked over his shoulder. The murmurs of frustrated old men rose.

  “Explain,” one voice said.

  “I’m angry my mother died. I’m resentful that my father left, and my sister is gone. I hate the turn my life has taken. Look at me. I’m in the damn dungeon. But why would I hold the Crown responsible for what’s happened to me? Except for this last part. To what purpose would I want to kill innocent people when I know the agony of loss myself? You will spare me because I have no reason to do whatever is being done.”

  There was silence as the Prince considered me.

  “What if I told you your mother’s death was the fault of the Crown?” he asked softly. “That she sacrificed her vitality to save the kingdom, and that was why she was so weak?”

  “I would tell you that sounds like the woman I knew. Her body was weak, but her convictions never were. Not once did she show a hint of blame toward the Crown for the life she lived. Neither will I.”

  “Where are your father and sister? Why did they leave?”

  “I wish I knew where they were,” I said, truly pained. “I’d like to believe my father left to escape his grief. I’ve never seen a man love a woman so completely as he did my mother. It hurt him to see her failing strength over the years.”

  “And your sister?”

  “She escaped to escape,” I said with a helpless shrug.

  “Release her,” the Prince said with a negligent wave of his hand. “She’s no more than a foolish girl in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  I scowled at his back. Foolish girl? He wasn’t more than a handful of years older than me.

  “Pompous brat,” I said under my breath.

  The guard to my right cuffed me upside the head.

  “Watch your tongue,” he warned before hauling me to my feet. He held me in place as the Prince, the men in the back shadows, and the advisors left. Once the room cleared, the guard led me out a door and marched me to the side gate like some unwanted beggar.

  With a shove, he forced me from the castle grounds just before dusk. Stumbling a few steps, I righted myself and glared back at the closed gate. That could have gone worse. However, it also could have gone much better. I recalled the conversation and came up with a thousand ways I could have answered differently. Regret clawed at me that what I’d said hadn’t helped the Prince or his men see the threat to the kingdom was in my home.

  Turning a slow circle, I got my bearings and started toward home. In the fresh air, a sharp odor slowly penetrated my nose. It took a moment to realize I was smelling whatever filth coated me. At the first well, I drew a bucket of water and tipped it over my head. Blood and grime ran down, staining my bodice. It took three more buckets to rinse away the worst of it enough to start the journey home.

  Had I given the situation more than a passing thought, I would have endured the smell and waited to bathe when I reached home. As it was, walking home in a wet dress just before the sun set proved a very chilling experience. I shivered and rubbed my arms long before I reached the edge of town more than an hour later.

  The cold and shivering didn’t help the pain in my head, either. The steady ache increased to a pulsing throb. My anger grew with my pain. In the dark, I stumbled often on some hidden object as I made my way along the road leading to the Retreat. I clenched my teeth and found solace in imagining myself hitting the guard who took me from my home on a horse but failed to return me. Then I imagined hitting that ass of a prince.

  I smiled slightly to myself at that image.

  “Such a thing would only see me imprisoned again. But oh, what a lovely thought,” I said to myself, staggering slightly on the road that seemed determined to never end. I could barely see my hand before my face and only knew I remained on the road because of the rut I followed. Then it suddenly ended. I turned a slow circle, trying to see where I might be.

  A rumble came from overhead, and I looked up in annoyance.

  “Could this get any worse?” I said to myself. Perhaps a flash of lightning would—

  “That depends on your definition of worse,” a familiar voice said.

  The lightning I’d hoped for flashed just then, and I saw Kaven standing not far from me. Behind him towered the Royal Retreat.

  “Bloody hell,” I muttered as the light faded.

  “Lost your way, my little wasp?”

  “Obviously. It’s darker than a—”

  “No need to continue that thought,” he said with a chuckle. “You look in need of assistance.”

  Another rumble sounded overhead.

  “Not at all. I just need to wait for another bolt of lightning to show me the way.” I tipped my head up to the sky, waiting, and gave a frustrated huff when nothing happened. Turning, I smacked my head against something, bruising my lip.

  Kaven grunted. Lightning flashed, illuminating his chest inches from my face. I tipped my head back to glare at him.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, wincing at the taste of blood on my lip.

  “I was going to help you inside.”

  “Inside the Retreat? Are you mad? That is the last place I would want to go. Prince Greydon is a royal ass. I can see why you like him.”

  Kaven snorted. Rain let loose just then, soaking my face.

  “Come inside, Eloise,” he said.

  “Just turn me in the direction of home.”

  “Why is help so often rejected when it is needed the most? I saw the blood on your temple and watched you stagger your way up t
he drive. Let me help you.”

  I huffed in defeat.

  “Fine. You may—” He scooped me up into his arms and started walking toward the house.

  I stared up at him in astonishment. He caught the look and grinned in another flash of lightning.

  “I’m feeling a bit of surprise, too. I’m not sure if it’s you or the dress, but you’re heavier than I expected.”

  I sputtered. “I am not heavy.”

  “If you’d like to remove the dress when we reach the Retreat, I’d be happy to try again.”

  I smacked the back of his head.

  “Walk in silence, manservant.”

  He laughed and kicked open a side door that led us into a fire lit kitchen. I scowled at the drawn curtains. Had they been open, the light from the fire would have helped guide me on my own.

  Annoyed, I turned my head to look up at him at the same time he bent to set me down. Our faces collided with surprising force. I gasped in pain against his mouth, my damaged lip protesting against the contact, and jerked back. He stared at me, his expression unreadable.

  “I sincerely hope this doesn’t count as my first kiss for I can only take it as an ill omen for any future romantic endeavors,” I said.

  He eased me to my feet, saying nothing as he moved to put more wood on the fire. I looked around the large kitchen in awe.

  “What happened to you?” he asked.

  I turned to look at him. His gaze swept up from the bottom of my soiled dress to my face. He frowned at whatever he saw.

  “When I left you, you were angry but undamaged.” He reached out and gently moved some of my hair away from my temple.

  “This is the doing of your kind Prince. Doesn’t every ruler who wants to bring about a true peace terrorize his people?”

  “Eloise,” he said in warning. “Tell me what happened.”

  “There was another search on the house. I panicked and ran.”

  “Why did you panic?”

  “Look at me, Kaven. Am I dressed like a young lady of good breeding? No. And just as I suspected, when I tried to tell the guard who caught me who I was, he didn’t believe me. Because I tried running, they automatically assumed that I’m some evil enchantress killing the magnanimous subjects of Towdown and threw me in the dungeon.”

  “That doesn’t explain the cut on your head.”

  “The guard hit me to subdue me.” I grinned slightly. “It seems it’s not in my nature to go quietly.”

  “Eloise…” He surprised me by gently pulling me into his arms and hugging me. He was warm and smelled clean and good. More than that, his embrace emanated a level of comfort and concern I’d longed for since Kellen disappeared. Unable to help myself, I leaned into it, resting my forehead against his chest.

  “Why must life be so difficult?” I whispered.

  His hand ran over the back of my head, smoothing down my back. I shivered. Whether from his touch or the cold, I couldn’t be sure.

  “There is no way to say this without sounding coarse, but you must remove your dress. You’ll never warm while wearing that sodden mess.”

  I slowly drew back and looked up at his face.

  “There’s no need for me to warm,” I said. “I’m close to home. I’ll rest a bit then find my way.”

  “You are infuriatingly stubborn,” he said, sighing.

  “It’s my best quality.”

  He chuckled and released me. Taking my hand, he led me to a chair. I sat with a sigh and closed my eyes, letting the fire’s warmth wash over my face.

  “I’ll return in a moment,” he said freeing my fingers.

  I shivered in the chair as the heat from the flames slowly penetrated my clothes. Steam rose from my bodice. I would be lucky not to fall ill after this.

  A scrape of noise announced Kaven’s return. I didn’t turn to look at him, too tired to move. Something soft brushed against my face. I opened my eyes to look at him. His gaze remained focused on my hairline, which he washed with meticulous attention for several long minutes.

  “It’s a small cut,” he said finally. “It bled a lot, though. If you’re determined to return home, I’ll hitch up a—”

  “No,” I said firmly, pushing his hand aside. The idea of him coming face to face with Maeve sent a lance of panic through me.

  “I’m fine. I only needed to sit for a moment. I can make it home now.”

  “Eloise, it’s raining. Please let me take you home.”

  “The last time I saw you, I asked you to leave me in peace. The time before that, you asked for the same.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “Your precise words matter little. Your intent does. Focus on your obligations, Kaven, and I will do the same.” I stood, my legs and head protesting.

  Kaven’s gaze narrowed on me.

  “You can barely stand.”

  “What I can and cannot do is not your concern. I apologize for the unintended intrusion. The storm made it darker than I’d anticipated. I can find my way from here.” With a brisk nod, I moved to the door, determination giving me strength.

  Kaven followed me closely. I thought there would be another argument as I stepped out into the rain, but when I looked back, his steady gaze remained impassive as he watched me. I turned as regally as I could, lifted the sodden mass of my skirts, and started for home, grateful for the flicker of light from the open door.

  The damned dress weighted my arms, making them burn with strain by the time I left the circle of light. I plodded along in the dark once more. If not for the occasional crack of lightning, I might have missed the gap in the trees that marked the path to my home.

  Turning up the drive, I could think of nothing else but the warmth of the fire, and felt relief when I finally spotted dim light through the trees from the windows. My numb fingers trembled as I let myself into the kitchen. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth.

  I shuffled in, dripping on the floor. A gasp brought my attention to Catherine and Heather. Their eyes were wide as they stared at me for a moment then rushed to me. Their hands made quick work of the dress, stockings and shoes. As soon as I stood in nothing but my transparent underthings, they moved me toward the stool by the fire.

  “Sit,” Catherine said. “I’ll fetch a blanket.”

  She hurried from the room.

  “You should have stayed away,” Heather said softly. “You should have saved yourself.”

  I frowned up at her, the look in her eyes making my stomach twist with worry.

  “The guard took me,” I said through chattering teeth.

  “I know.” She smoothed a hand over my hair then went back to her cutting board.

  The door opened, and Catherine hurried back in. No blanket weighted Catherine’s arms, and fear filled her gaze. She joined Heather, neither working, only watching as Maeve entered the room followed by Hugh.

  I hadn’t seen him in too long. He looked gaunt now, sickly.

  “I thought you were truly gone,” she said softly.

  My heart stopped.

  “Kellen,” I whispered.

  Maeve smiled slowly. My anger boiled, and I clenched my fists.

  “As I said, I thought you were truly gone.”

  As I held her gaze, thinking that I could now strike out at her, I realized it was a test of obedience. A test to see how far she cowed me. Maeve wasn’t foolish enough to remove the one thing that kept me under her thumb. Regaining control over myself, I hid my ever-present anger under my mask of indifference.

  Maeve’s smile vanished.

  “Please do tell me what happened, Mama,” I said calmly. “I love Kellen too much not to know. Afterward, we should discuss what happened while I was in the King’s dungeons.”

  She studied me for a moment.

  “You test me?” she said softly.

  “No, Mama. I remain your obedient daughter.”

  Her regard turned cold and calculating.

  “Obedience can be broken with the right methods. Strip. I want
to see what they did to you.”

  My gaze flicked to Hugh who watched me as well. Then Catherine and Heather.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  “You once asked if I wanted to lead the life of a proper young lady. Should a proper young lady bare herself to a man not her husband?”

  “Should a proper young lady question her mother?”

  She nodded to Hugh, and he advanced on me.

  “I’ll do it,” I said quickly.

  “Too late,” she said.

  Hugh grabbed the front of my shift and ripped it from my body. However, before the material gave way under his force, it cut into my skin. I bit my abused lip to keep from making a sound and quickly covered my bare breasts.

  “Hands down, Eloise. I want to see.”

  Swallowing hard and turning my head to stare at the flames, I held still as Hugh yanked my thin underclothes from my hips. His breath skimmed my belly as he bent forward, and I wanted to whimper against the offense.

  “Step away, Hugh,” Maeve said.

  Her heels tapped on the ground as she circled me. Her finger trailed along my lower back, and I fought not to shudder at the contact.

  “They barely touched you,” she said. “It’s hard to be sure if your unmarked state is because the spell held and you could say nothing or if you found a way to quickly implicate me to save yourself.”

  “I said nothing to implicate you,” I said when she stood before me once more.

  “I have to be sure,” she whispered, stepping back with a smile.

  Hugh stepped forward, his eyes glinting green.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hate, like love, had an infinite capacity. It was a simple truth that I discovered as I lay before the fire during the next several days, unable to move or see clearly. Catherine and Heather, forbidden from helping me, proved through small kindnesses that they weren’t completely under Maeve’s control unlike Hugh, who despite his wasted appearance, had used his unchanged strength to bring me low.

  Yet no matter how many times he’d struck me as I related my tale of my time in the dungeon, I’d managed to withhold one tiny bit of information. I said nothing of the Prince. In my story, he was just another man among men who had questioned me.

 

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