Chapter 7
“I’ve never had a fairy godmother before,” said Cinderella, donning her peasant-like gown the next day as Medea lounged on the bed flicking together her long nails. “Or, at least I don’t think so. I wish I could remember my past. If only I hadn’t slipped on the wet floor and bumped my head, I wouldn’t be feeling this way.”
“Sister, you didn’t slip and fall.”
“Sister?” Ella stopped lacing the bodice of her gown and looked over to Medea. “Why did you call me that?”
“Because I am your half-sister.”
“Then, you have the same father as me? Or did you mean Lady Agnes is your mother?”
“Nay.” Medea wrinkled her nose, pursed her lips, and sat up to see Ella better. “Hecuba is my mother. You and I have the same father, but it isn’t that fool, Baron Hubert Trevane. Our father is a very powerful warlock.”
“I don’t understand.” Ella furrowed her brow. “The only father I have is the baron.”
“Think about it, Ella. Would your true father treat you as naught but a servant while he treated your stepsisters like princesses?”
“I suppose it does seem odd. I just figured I did something to anger him and deserve the treatment.”
“Wake up! You are a noblewoman, so start acting like one. I can’t believe you don’t stand up for yourself.”
“Yes, I am noble,” she said, feeling her hands shaking. What Medea said seemed to strike a chord with her. Why had she put up with being treated like a servant? “Oh, Medea, I don’t want to be treated so poorly anymore.”
“Then do something about it.”
“What can I possibly do?”
“I’m not sure.” Medea looked up into the air in thought. “Perhaps I can help you.”
“What can you do?” Ella sat on a chair and slipped her feet into her worn shoes.
“I’ll make your stepsisters break out with warts.” She chuckled. “Yes. And your stepmother can fall down the stairs and break her back. Mayhap, I’ll have the baron get trampled by a horse.” She laughed again, the sound unsettling to Ella since it was so evil.
“Nay! I thought you were a fairy godmother.” She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “You are naught but evil if you are planning on using magic to make tragedy happen to others, no matter who they are. I no longer want or need your help.”
“Oh, all right, then. If you don’t want my help just continue being the servant girl, I don’t care. I just thought you’d want to kiss Lord William again since you were in love with him and were supposed to be betrothed. Mayhap, I should take him for myself instead.” Medea raised her hands over her head, and a black mist started to emerge.
“Wait,” said Ella. “Tell me what you mean. Has Sir William kissed me? And what do you mean we were in love?”
“Think about it hard and, mayhap, you’ll remember,” said Medea. “I’ll be back tomorrow. If you decide you want my help, after all, I’ll make sure you get to the ball.”
“Oh, I can’t go to the ball. I’m not allowed. My stepmother won’t let me.”
“Stand up for yourself, you fool.” Medea rolled her eyes. “At least our sister Rapunzel had a backbone. It was more fun fighting with her than dealing with someone who is naught but a mouse.” With a wave of her hand, a mouse appeared in the center of the room. Ella screamed and jumped backward.
“Every time you act like a mouse, another mouse is going to appear to remind you how foolish you’re acting. If you don’t stop it, I might just change you into a mouse as well.” In a puff of smoke, Medea disappeared.
Ella stood there for a moment watching the mouse nibble at things on the floor. She hated mice. They scared her. Contemplating what just happened, she realized mayhap Medea was right. Ella didn’t feel she was being treated fairly. She’d been convinced she deserved this treatment because of something she did but, honestly, she just couldn’t remember. Now, all kinds of thoughts were running through her head.
How could this witch, Medea, be her half-sister? And if the baron wasn’t their father – who was?
The door to the room slammed open. Ella’s stepmother and stepsisters stood there glaring at here.
“What is taking you so long?” snapped Lady Agnes.
“Cinderella, the ball is in a few days, and we need you to alter our gowns,” complained Beatrice.
“Plus, you need to go back to town and have the cordwainer fix our shoes. The straps are too tight and need to be made bigger,” complained Greta.
“Don’t forget about cleaning out the ashes in the hearth in my solar as well,” commanded Agnes. “Hurry up, Cinderella. What are you waiting for?”
Ella’s heart sank. She looked at the ground. The mouse scurried under the bed. She couldn’t possibly go up against all three of them. Nay, she should do her chores like before and not cause trouble.
“Aye, I’m coming,” she said, heading toward the door. Hearing a squeaking noise, she looked back to see not just the one, but two mice climbing up the leg of the table.
With her head down and her heart feeling heavy, she left the room and closed the door.
“I don’t understand how this is supposed to help me remember your daughter, Ella.” William took the horseshoe from Lucio, laying it on his lap.
“It was my idea,” Troy told him. “It is the shoe that was thrown from her horse when you followed her in town. Or, at least, I think so.”
“Your squire told us you were determined to find the horse that the shoe fit because that would lead you to our sister.” Wolf lounged back on a chair in front of the fire of the great hall, stretching out his long legs.
“That’s right,” agreed Troy. “Sir William, try to concentrate. Mayhap if you hold the horseshoe, it’ll help you to remember.”
“I remember being in town and switching the bag of the tax money for stones,” said William searching his mind for answers.
“What is he talking about?” asked Lucio.
“Sir William helped the townsfolk,” explained Troy. “You see, the baron is collecting three times the tax money from the merchants and tradesmen and they are nearly broke.”
“The baron?” Lucio raised a brow. “Is this the same man who is claiming to be my daughter’s father and treating Ella so terribly?”
“It is,” said Troy. “Now, Sir William, please concentrate.”
William sighed and closed his eyes, running his fingers over the horseshoe, trying to remember anything at all having to do with this girl named Ella. Frustrated, he was about to give up when a vision of a horse rearing up in the fog in the night flashed through his mind. He heard the neighing of the steed and felt the cool night air against his face. Then a pair of violet eyes from under a hood flashed through his mind. He tried to grasp the thought, willing it to stay. But as fast as it came, it disappeared. His eyes sprang open.
“What happened?” asked Kin.
“Did you see something to do with our sister?” asked Arnon.
“I don’t know,” he said, looking down to the horseshoe, searching his mind. “I saw a horse rear up in the night.”
“That’s what happened,” said Troy excitedly. “And then . . . and then . . . I don’t know what happened after that.”
“Egads, it sounds like the squire is starting to forget Ella now as well,” stated Stefan.
“Ella?” asked Troy. “Ella. She is . . . who is Ella?”
“This is getting worse,” stated Lucio. “Just like William said in the missive, eventually everyone is going to forget Ella, and she will no longer exist.”
“Will we forget her as well?” asked Arnon.
“I hope not,” said Lucio. “Nay, I won’t let that happen. I will use my magic to protect my family from forgetting her. That’s what I’ll do.”
“Will that break the curse?” asked Kin.
“I’m afraid not,” Lucio said sadly. “Hecuba’s magic is powerful, and it’s going to take much more to break the curse.”
“Like what?�
�� asked Stefan.
“We’ve managed to break all her other curses she’s bestowed on us so far,” said Kin.
“Not all of us,” Wolf reminded them. “After all, I still turn into a wolf every night.”
“You do?” William looked up in amusement.
“Don’t smile, Fremont, it is not funny.” Wolf scowled at him and headed to the other side of the room.
“I think what Kin means is that there is usually a flaw in Hecuba’s spells and we just need to find it,” said Lucio.
“Well, whatever we’re going to do, we need to move fast,” said Arnon. “If not, it might be too late.”
“I don’t see what we can do about it since we can’t tell Ella who she is or the curse will never be broken,” complained Kin.
“The answer lies with Sir William, I believe.” Lucio rested his hand on William’s shoulder. “If you can remember your past with my daughter on your own it could be enough to break the spell.”
“He’ll never remember her,” growled Wolf. “He can barely remember her name though we tell him every few minutes.” Wolf leaned against the wall and stared out the window, still fretting that his own curse had never been broken.
“What do you suggest, Lord Lucio?” asked William, wanting to remember the girl he supposedly loved.
“Love is stronger than hatred,” said Lucio. “If William and Ella were both to remember the love they once held for each other, I’m sure it would be enough to break the spell.”
“So, what’s our next move?” asked Wolf. “Because I’m not going to be able to help once nightfall comes.”
“On the contrary, you might be able to help more than you know,” said Lucio, looking up in thought and nodding. “I have a plan. But first, I will need to transport to Inglewood Manor and find out when and where we can find Ella alone.”
Chapter 8
By the time Ella finished sewing the alterations on her stepsisters’ gowns, she was feeling very left out that she wouldn’t be going to the ball.
“Greta and Beatrice, you look beautiful,” said Agnes, fussing with the lace on their dresses as they twirled in a circle showing off their new gowns.
“What do you think, Cinderella?” asked Greta snidely. “Do we look beautiful enough to catch the eye of Sir William so he’ll ask one of us to marry him?”
“I – I don’t know,” she said, putting her needles and thread back into the sewing basket. Medea had told her that she and William were once in love and were to be betrothed. If that were true, she didn’t want Greta or Beatrice taking William’s eye.
“What kind of answer is that?” snapped her stepmother.
“I mean, you both look lovely in your gowns. I am sure Sir William will notice you.” Something pinched her finger and she jumped. “Ow!” Looking down, she saw a mouse inside the basket. Another mouse was over by the window and still, two more, scampered across the floor.
“A mouse!” Beatrice pulled up the hem of her gown and jumped up atop a chair. “Kill it, Cinderella.”
“If I had a shoe I would throw it at the rodent,” said Greta, hurrying for the door.
“Cinderella, clean up this room at once and make certain to catch the mice and kill them,” commanded Agnes, helping Beatrice from the chair. “Then be sure to clean the soot from the hearth in my solar and take the girls’ shoes to town to be fixed. Do you understand?”
“But, that will take quite some time, and it is already late in the day. I won’t be back from town until after dark.”
“Is that a problem?” Agnes turned and raised a brow.
Stand up for yourself, came Medea’s warning in her head. But glancing back at her stepmother and both her stepsisters looking at her as if they wanted to kill her, she decided it would be better to do the chores and not complain.
“I will tend to the chores anon,” she said, her eyes cast downward in submission.
“Good. Now get going, and be sure to rid this solar of the mice.” Agnes escorted her daughters out of the room and closed the door behind them.
Ella felt a nibble on her foot and looked down to see yet another mouse. She moved her foot, feeling less fearful of the rodent than of her own family. What was wrong with her? And had she always been this way? Something deep inside told her it couldn’t be true. But her loss of memory affected her confidence. And because of this, she would stay as naught more than a servant to her family.
There was a knock at the door. Perplexed by who it could be, Ella hurried across the room and pulled the door open. A guard stared back at her. He was an older man with black hair with touches of gray at his temples. She had never seen him at the manor before.
“I’m sorry, but Ladies Greta and Beatrice are not here,” she told him.
“I’m not here for them. I’m here to see you, Cinderella.”
“You are?” Her eyes darted back and forth. “Did my stepmother send you to watch and make sure I tended to my chores?”
“Why . . . yes, she did. I am here to escort you, wherever you go.”
“Escort me?” Something didn’t sound right. “My father never has guards escort me anywhere.”
When she mentioned her father, it seemed to upset the man. “The baron must not be a good father if he lets you roam the streets of town alone at night.”
“That is a very odd thing to say about your lord. What is your name?” she asked suspiciously, wondering what the man meant to do with her. “I have never seen you at the manor before.”
“I am new,” he said. “You can call me . . . Lucio.”
“Well, Lucio, you can go back to your guard duty because I am not in need of an escort, but thank you just the same.”
She closed the door in his face and turned back to deal with the mice. She needed to hurry before it got dark. An escort to town would have been appreciated. But something about the guard named Lucio seemed phony to her. She didn’t believe her father sent him at all. If not, what did the man want with her?
“Are you sure Ella is coming to town tonight?” William stared out the front window of the cordwainer’s shop, watching as nightfall started to cover the land.
“I heard her stepmother give her the orders as I hid out in the corridor. She’ll be here,” said Lucio.
“Father, it isn’t safe for Ella to be traveling alone at night,” said Kin.
“I tried to escort her, but she wouldn’t let me. She figured out I wasn’t one of the baron’s guards or that he would ever assign her an escort.”
“Here she comes,” said Kin anxiously, pointing at her out the window.
“Get away from the window,” said Lucio.
“It’s not as if she’ll remember me, even if she sees me,” Kin pointed out.
“Get in position,” said Lucio. “And I only hope the cordwainer stays upstairs with his family as he’s promised.”
“You paid him enough,” grumbled Wolf, leaning back with his arms crossed as he dozed off on a chair by the wall.
Arnon and Stefan came into the room by the back door.
“Father, she’s just ridden into town on her horse,” said Arnon excitedly.
“I know,” said Lucio. “Boys, everyone out! William, remember the plan. You are to pretend you are picking up a pair of shoes.”
“I will, but what will she say when she realizes you are not the cordwainer?” asked William.
“Oh, I almost forgot about that.” With a swipe of his hand down his face, Lucio shapeshifted into the form of the cordwainer.
William jumped in surprise, startled to see such a sight. He would never get used to being around magic.
“She’s tied up her horse and is headed this way.” Kin ran to the back of the store to hide, tripping over Wolf’s legs. “Get up, Wolf, she’s here. And it is almost time for you to do your part.”
“Fine, but I don’t like it.” Wolf stood up and started disrobing until he was naked. William looked away and shook his head.
“Boys, get out of here,” said Lucio, sounding l
ike the cordwainer. “Wolf, sneak out the back door as well.”
When William heard what sounded like a growl of an animal, he turned around and almost screamed when he saw a black wolf standing on the pile of Wolf’s clothes.
“Go on, Wolf,” said Lucio, shooing the animal away as he picked up the discarded clothes. Wolf and his brothers disappeared out the back door.
The bells atop the door jingled. William swung around to see a woman enter. She carried a travel bag over her shoulder and wore a cloak with her hood covering her face. As she stepped into the light of the flickering candles, she lowered her hood and her beautiful, violet eyes interlocked with his. They both stood frozen to the spot. William’s heart skipped a beat.
“You are Sir William, are you not?” Her voice was like that of a songbird. Or, perhaps, the melodic notes of an angel’s harp. How could he possibly forget someone as beautiful as her?
“I am,” he said, his voice squeaking like an adolescent boy. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I am,” he said, making his voice lower than normal just to make sure he wouldn’t embarrass himself again.
“My lord,” she said, bowing her head and greeting him with a curtsey. It bothered him that she backed up and kept her eyes focused on the floor. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I will wait until you are finished.”
“Finished?” he asked. “With what?”
“Sir William, your shoes are ready,” said Lucio from the counter, sounding and looking exactly like the cordwainer. The whole thing was unnerving. Lucio held up a package covered with brown paper.
“Oh, yes. Of course.” William walked over and took the package from him.
“Linger for a while,” whispered Lucio. “Try to make conversation with her.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered back in a hoarse voice.
“Excuse me for interrupting, my lord,” said Ella meekly, walking up to the counter. “But I hope you won’t mind if I give the shoes to Castor. You see, it is getting late and I don’t like to be in town alone at night.”
A Perfect Fit: Page 5