Disowned: A Cinderella and Snow White origin story

by M. J. Haag

  “A day or two at most.”

  “What do you think it is?” the queen asked.

  “The use of a corrupt form of blood magic in an attempt to rid Drisdall of its rulers.”

  The king swore and started pacing. The queen’s hand went to the flat of her stomach.

  “What about the babe?” she asked.

  The king stopped pacing to look at the queen.

  “Babe?”

  She smiled slightly and nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want you to stop—” She blushed.

  “Never.”

  “I don’t believe the babe was harmed,” Elspeth said before the moment grew too uncomfortable. “The magic was directed at you and deflected by the charm. However, if it becomes known that you are with child, the magic could be directed at the babe. There is no protection of which I know.”

  “Whoever is doing this must be stopped,” the king vowed. He kissed his wife’s temple and left her chambers.

  By the time we left the castle, there were already handwritten decrees on all the public announcement boards.

  All magic is forbidden in the kingdom of Drisdall, and any person found practicing it will be sent to the Dark Forest. Those with knowledge of those practicing it should report to the head guard.

  “I hope we don’t see the inside of a dungeon cell because of this,” I said.

  “It feels like I’ve eaten half a nest of rabbits,” I said as I lay wrapped in Atwell’s arms. His fingers trailed over the swell of my stomach.

  “It looks like you have several nests of rabbits in there.”

  I swatted his hand.

  “I should have never told you that I carry two babes.”

  “Why? You would prefer that I think you an overly large woman?”

  “Atwell Cartwright, you’re incorrigible.”

  He leaned down and tenderly kissed my stomach.

  “With you, always. You never said what happened with Elspeth’s reading yesterday.”

  “Everything is fine with the babes. They’re growing fast. It should only be a few more weeks before we welcome our daughters into the world.”

  His head jerked up from where he’d set his ear on my belly.

  “Daughters? Truly?”

  I nodded, smiling at his excitement.

  “I will spoil them as no father ever has,” he vowed. “They will know my unconditional love. And will choose men for their merit rather than their wallet. Like their mother.”

  I laughed.

  “Perhaps. Perhaps they will be like their father and have a fascination with gold coins.”

  He grinned at me.

  Atwell was truly a trader’s son. He was keen with his coin and seemed to have a sixth sense for how to double it. But I knew where his passion lay. I ran my fingers through his hair and let him love me with infinite care. No matter how large I grew, I continued to find joy in his touch.

  As I was lacing my dress, someone knocked on our door. I heard the low murmur of Atwell’s voice as he answered. A moment later, he slipped into the bedroom.

  “You’ve been summoned to the castle,” he said, moving to help me right myself. “It seems urgent. I’ll see you at dinner.” He kissed my temple and gave me a push toward the kitchen.

  I was surprised to see the royal carriage waiting outside. The guard helped me inside and shut the door. Before I had even settled on the plush seat, the vehicle lurched forward. The pace of the horses made for a rough ride, and I set a hand on my rounded belly.

  Whatever prompted this grueling ride had to be truly urgent.

  “We’re almost there. Get ready for a sudden stop,” the guard yelled from the other side of the door.

  No sooner had the coach jolted to a standstill than the door opened. A multitude of crows cried out, creating a din from seemingly nowhere. The guard offered his hand.

  “We must hurry.”

  I ran with him as best I could, up the stairs and through the castle to the queen’s private chambers. Winded, I held my side while he knocked then immediately opened the door.

  I entered the surprisingly crowded room and understood what was happening in a glance.

  The queen sat in a birthing chair. Her face sweaty and pale. Several women stood around her. Further back from the proceedings, Elspeth observed everything. She waved me to her side.

  “Something is wrong,” Elspeth whispered. “The midwives aren’t able to find anything wrong with the babe or the mother, but the delivery isn’t progressing like it should.”

  The queen’s amulet flared brightly then died again. Outside, the crows called out.

  “The attacks started last night shortly after she went into labor.”

  “And the crows?” I asked.

  “The same time. Messengers, I believe. So the caster knows if the spell succeeds or fails.”

  The queen panted a few heavy breaths then called for Elspeth. One of the midwives tried speaking, but the queen raised her hand and waved her away.

  “I've had enough of your efforts. It is obviously not working and is time to try something new.”

  The midwives bowed and hurried from the room.

  Elspeth approached the queen, and I followed in her wake. The queen looked exhausted.

  “Greydon’s birth was long and difficult. He took many hours to emerge. This feels different. Elspeth, you've seen the amulet. Is something happening to my child?”

  Elspeth set her hands on the queen’s belly.

  “I don't believe so, Your Majesty,” Elspeth said. “I believe the amulet is protecting the babe just as it did every time I tried to use casting to determine its gender.”

  I thought of all the times Elspeth checked my babes in front of the queen. How I’d learned I carried twin girls and heard their hearts beat. None of the same spells had worked on the queen. Each time, the amulet had flashed and the spell had failed.

  “I feel something is wrong,” the queen said.

  Elspeth motioned me forward and pointed to a bowl of water and cloth. I wet the cloth and cooled the queen’s face as Elspeth spoke to her.

  “What is wrong is that somehow, the one casting spells on you knows about the babe and that this child is trying to make its way into the world. For whatever reason, this caster is trying to disrupt that.” Elspeth took the queen’s hand. “You’ve been in seclusion for three months. How could anyone know the exact time?”

  The queen’s eyes narrowed, and she looked at all the midwives.

  “Get out! All of you.”

  The women scurried from the room, and the queen looked at Elspeth the moment the door slammed.

  “Speak freely. Tell me what you know.”

  “I always do, Your Majesty.” She pulled an amulet from the bodice of her dress. “This is for the babe. The moment it appears, this will touch the babe’s skin. I believe the caster is testing if it has appeared yet. The moment it does, the babe will likely die without this.” She set the amulet aside and placed her hands on the queen’s stomach again.

  “I also believe the caster is disrupting your contractions to delay the delivery and sap your strength.”

  The queen closed her eyes for a moment.

  “I cannot deny that I’m already exhausted.”

  “Let’s remove you from the chair and place you on the bed. You can rest between contractions.”

  I helped Elspeth move the queen. We no sooner had her settled than the door to her room burst open. The king came striding in, worry on his face.

  “Why have you dismissed the midwives?” he asked gently.

  “One of them has spoken of this babe. Spells are being cast now that I am laboring to bring this child into the world.”

  The king frowned and looked at Elspeth with a hint of anger.

  “It’s not Elspeth, my love. You know that. Do not let your distaste for magic blind you. Not all who use it are bad.”

  During the months of her pregnancy, the queen had confided t
hat prior to betrothing her, the king had almost been ensnared by another. One who used her magic to try to entrance him. He’d never forgotten the feeling of being controlled and resented all who used magic.

  The king sighed and moved closer to Sevil, love on his face. When he again focused on Elspeth, his expression was clear of any anger toward her.

  “Your Majesty, given what has happened in Turre and the attacks now centered on the queen, I believe you have the power to stop this madness.”

  “How so?”

  “A proclamation that the queen is delivering your second heir. And your vow to never wed again should the queen die.”

  The king looked at his wife.

  “I will not lose you.”

  “You won’t,” she said, holding his hand tightly.

  “I believe the caster’s plan is to stall the labor to drain the queen of strength. I cannot use my magic to directly counter the casting. However, Margaret can.”

  “I can?” I said as all eyes shifted to me.

  “You and the queen share a bond already. Both of you are pregnant and have an affection for one another. It’s a natural magic that we can use with the help of a small cut on your right hand and a small cut on the queen’s left. You will lie beside her and hold her hands. Her pain will be your pain. Her exhaustion will be yours.”

  I understood what this meant. Blood magic. While not inherently bad, it could be dangerous. I hesitated and set a hand on my belly.

  “The babes?” I asked.

  “It is your strength the queen will use. However, the babes will be touched by the magic. I cannot say how that will affect them.”

  I looked at the queen, wanting so badly to help but terrified for my unborn children.

  “No,” she said. “I will not risk another woman’s children for my own.”

  “You misunderstand,” Elspeth said. “We’re all born with a certain amount of ability. I don’t know how being touched by this type of magic will affect their abilities or their futures. I do not foresee this magic risking their lives. Only your own.”

  The queen shook her head, and I took her hand.

  “We should try. It is my duty as your friend and subject to give you what strength I can so you may deliver this babe before anyone realizes what we’re doing.”

  The queen looked at the king.

  “Elspeth is right. The proclamation should help.”

  A contraction ripped through her just then. She cried out and grabbed her stomach. As she did, the crows cried out, and the amulet flared to life. The queen panted through the pain, but I could see she was no longer focused on the babe but the amulet.

  The king stroked his wife’s head, a look of fear on his face, until the amulet stopped glowing and the contraction was gone.

  “Do what you must,” he said to Elspeth. “I will make the announcement as you say.”

  The queen caught his hand before he could leave.

  “Amnesty for my friends. Margaret is risking everything to help me. She and her children shall be protected by the crown after this. For the rest of their lives.”

  “It shall be done,” he said, kissing her brow.

  As soon as he left, I grabbed one of the bandages and had the queen sit up. I wrapped it crisscross her chest until I felt I had enough to cover the light, hopping it would worry her less if she couldn’t see it. Then I crawled up into the bed next to her and waited for Elspeth to cut our palms.

  “Do not let go,” Elspeth warned us. “You risk the other’s life if you do.”

  The queen and I nodded. When the next contraction came, we labored together. At first, it wasn’t bad. I could feel the strength I was lending the queen. Then my belly started to tighten with hers, and I could feel the queen drawing my strength in greater need. It only took a handful of those before I too was resting my eyes between contractions.

  “You’re both doing nicely,” Elspeth crooned, wiping our faces with a cool cloth. “I could see the babe’s head on that last push.”

  The door to the room opened again, and the king strode in. He went to the queen and smoothed back her hair.

  “It is done. Heralds are yelling the proclamation in the streets, and the scholars are making arrangements for the Cartwright family.”

  “Thank you,” she said just before another contraction stole both our breaths.

  “Your Majesty, I could use your help. Here is the babe’s amulet. It needs to touch the babe’s skin the moment its head is clear. Do you understand?”

  I barely paid any attention to what happened next as a flood of warmth gushed between my legs. I frowned and lifted my head.

  “Should there be so much blood?” the king asked softly, looking between the queen’s legs.

  I realized that the warmth I felt wasn’t my own. Instead of answering, Elspeth looked at me then my hand holding the queen’s.

  “Everything you have, Margaret.”

  I nodded, held tightly, and closed my eyes to focus on sending all my strength into the queen. I could feel myself grow weaker. The labor of each breath. The weariness that tugged at my consciousness, begging me to release my hold on this world.

  “One more push, Your Majesty.”

  My stomach clenched at the same time I felt another flood of warmth between my legs. This time the pain was enough that I cried out.

  “Stay strong, Margaret. Your babes will wait. Keep your grip firm, and think of the queen.”

  I knew then that the pain and wetness I felt weren’t an echo of the queen’s but my own. I struggled to hold on. To stay conscious. In my weariness, I briefly wished for Atwell.

  Another pain ripped through me, and the queen and I cried out together. Elspeth and the king said something but I couldn’t focus. I felt myself pulled deeper and deeper into the darkness.

  From somewhere in the shadows, Sevil’s voice reached me.

  “I cannot take more from you, my sweet Margaret. You have my love and gratitude always.”

  The strain left me as did the feel of the queen’s hand.

  “Sevil, no!”

  The king’s roar made my ears ring. I turned my head to look at the queen’s pale face. Her eyes were partially open, unfocused and unblinking.

  The queen was dead.

  Epilogue

  Lost in thought, I watched the sun rise from my place in the sitting room. Although I’d just woken, I was tired already.

  In all the years since the queen’s passing, I’d never recovered. I recalled that day and how Elspeth had taken me home after I’d delivered my twin daughters in the queen’s bed. Her words still rang in my ears.

  “I’m sorry, Margaret. When the queen released you while the bond still held, she kept what strength you’d lended her. It will never return.”

  Exhausted from childbirth, I hadn’t fully understood what that meant. And Elspeth had left Drisdall shortly after, robbing me of the opportunity to learn more.

  I understood why she’d left. The king, in his grief, had banished any magic users he found. Those who refused to leave Drisdall were sent into the Dark Forest, a death sentence with all the beasts loose within the shadows there.

  “Are you ready for me to read to you, Mother?” Kellen asked.

  I looked at my dark-haired daughter and smiled.

  “I’m ready.”

  I listened to the soft, sweet tone of her voice and felt blessed. At fifteen, she was stunningly beautiful. In that way, she and her sister, Eloise were the same. In so many other ways, they differed.

  One was fire and passion, her temper igniting like a cinder on dried grass. The other was quiet and distant, yet strong like a snow laden forest. Kellen was my snow and moon. Cool and distant, but no less loving of her parents. Eloise was my fire and sun. Her temper sparked often, but her light brought life to the room whenever she entered.

  “Mother? Would you like to rest? You seem tired today.”

  I offered my hand to my daughter. Her strong, warm fingers wrapped around mine.

&nb
sp; “Only lost in wonder at my two beautiful children. But perhaps I should rest.”

  Kellen kissed my cheek and left the room. I returned my attention to the sun-dappled trees outside the window. Gifted this land by the king, Atwell and I had raised our girls in peace and prosperity.

  I was grateful for each day with my family. Yet, something told me those days were drawing to an end. It wasn’t only my progressive weakness, which was keeping Atwell away longer and longer as he sought magical cures. Something deep within me said my time drew near. A knowing unlike anything I’d felt before. And that knowing told me my death wouldn’t be natural.

  A storm was coming. And it would rob me of what little life I still possessed. But it wasn’t my life that really mattered. It never had. It was always about the two babes I was meant to bring into this world. The daughters who were touched by magic both light and dark.

  While the knowing told me my story was almost at an end, it also said the story of my children was just beginning.

  And so begins the Tales of Cinder and the Tales of Snow…

  Thank you for reading Disowned, a prequel novella to the upcoming Tales of Cinder! I’m so excited to dive into another fairy tale world (If you haven’t already checked out the Beastly Tales, you should!). If you want to learn more about the Tales of Cinder and Tales of Snow, be sure to sign up for my newsletter at https://mjhaag.melissahaag.com. Or, you can order Defiant, Tales of Cinder, book 1, now! Https://mjhaag.melissahaag.com/project/defiant Happy reading!

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading Disowned! It was wonderful to jump back into the world I created for the Beastly Tales. While Beauty and the Beast is my favorite fairy tale, by far; Cinderella is easily my sister-in-law’s favorite. Because I love her, and all the readers who wanted more, writing the Tales of Cinder was an easy decision. I hope my take on the well-retold tale will make everyone laugh, cry, and want to hurt a character or two. :)

  Disowned is just a taste of what’s to come. While Defiant might start out light, the trilogy will get dark quickly. I can’t wait to share it with everyone!