Damnation: A Cinderella Retelling (Tales of Cinder Book 3)

Home > Other > Damnation: A Cinderella Retelling (Tales of Cinder Book 3) > Page 13
Damnation: A Cinderella Retelling (Tales of Cinder Book 3) Page 13

by M. J. Haag


  “Be still,” he said with another tug.

  I blinked at the golden thread on my bicep, trying to understand its significance as that same odd noise repeated itself. My gut clenched, and the need to gag almost overwhelmed me as a hank of my hair drifted to the ground before my eyes. He sliced thrice more before I realized what he was doing. I began my struggles anew.

  “I almost nicked you, twit. Stop moving, or you’ll be as bloody as the boy that were here.”

  His words stilled me. I cared nothing about my own bleeding but that of Alfie.

  “They killed him?” I slurred.

  “Ain’t my place to say.”

  With a vengeance, he went at my hair. Too grief-numb to fight, I stayed still between his legs.

  “There now. You’re done. Off you go. She told me to tell you she’s waiting.”

  He grasped me under my arms and hefted me to my feet, taking the opportunity to paw at my breasts again. I swatted away from his hold and, ignoring his chuckle, stumbled toward the door.

  The sunlight nearly blinded me when I stepped outside. The sound of water and the smell of salt cleansed the scent of the old man from my nose. I breathed in deeply, fighting the sickness trying to consume me. The pull to return to Maeve drove me to move.

  “Who-who!” a man yelled. “A fine piece of ass if I’ve ever seen one. I’ll give you four copper to suck my cock.”

  I didn’t turn to look but shuffled forward.

  “Don’t be like that,” the same voice yelled.

  “I’ll give you a half silver if you let me stick my cock anywhere I want,” another voice called. Raucous laughter followed.

  I stopped moving and turned toward the ships where men were lined up on the decks.

  “I have the pox,” I yelled, trying not to heave, “and a rash that burns fiercely each time my bowels let loose, which is far too often for my comfort. I have no coin to see a doctor, but if I suck all of your cocks, surely, I’ll earn enough. When I’m cured, my cunny will be open for business again.”

  Several of the men made faces and turned away without a word. Those who still lingered no longer smiled.

  “Come now,” I cajoled. “My mouth is clean.” My stomach chose that moment to revolt, and I heaved into the dirt.

  “Get gone, wretch!” one of the men yelled.

  I smiled and turned away from their accusatory gazes. How often men only praised external beauty when they thought they could benefit from it. Shallow creatures. No worse than women, though, I supposed. My sex judged just as harshly with their gossip.

  A lump of cloth huddled near the next building slowed my steps. Something about it seemed familiar. Placing my hand on the wall for support, I blinked at the trousers. I’d seen them before. Hadn’t I?

  The soft sound of sobbing reached my ears.

  “Are you all right?” I managed to ask.

  The lump cringed then straightened, turning his head toward me. A bloody bandage covered his eyes, but I still recognized Alfie.

  “Leave me, I beg you. Pay me no kindness.”

  My stomach heaved again, but there was nothing left in me. When I looked up, I caught sight of Cecilia standing at the end of the lane. She watched me with a twisted smile.

  “I will show you no kindness today,” I said softly. “But soon.”

  He started sobbing again and leaned his head against the wall.

  Straightening away, I started forward once more. Once I was past the boy, Cecilia disappeared from sight. I followed the pull from the dock and through several narrow streets before it began to ease. At the next corner, I turned and the sickness vanished completely. The carriage waited only a few steps away, along with five buckets of water and Cecilia with a cloth and my dress.

  “Hello, sister,” she said with a twisted smile.

  “Hello.” I picked up a bucket and poured it over my head then rinsed my mouth from the second one before dumping that over me as well. When I reached for the cloth, she pulled it away.

  “All of them. I pulled them from the well, just now, for you.”

  I emptied them in quick succession as she watched me.

  “Your act of defiance changed nothing,” she said. “The boy still lost his sight but by my hand. When will you learn and start listening to Mama.”

  Without answering, I took the cloth from her hand and rubbed it over my face and head.

  “Your hair is quite lovely, sister.”

  “Thank you. I will be sure to refer you to the barber.”

  She shook her head, tossed my dress at me, and opened the carriage door.

  I got in naked and tugged the dress on as Maeve watched.

  “Based on your impertinent answers, I can see you have learned nothing.”

  “But I have, Mama.”

  “And what is that?” she asked.

  “Cecilia is just like you.”

  Locked away in the attic, I cleaned myself as best as I could, using the washbasins Porcia had filled. I was grateful they were continuing to keep the staff safe from my vile influence. After today, I didn’t think I could bear to witness anyone else’s suffering. As it was, my anger had loosened my tongue far too much in front of Cecilia and Maeve.

  I studied my reflection in the mirror and ran my hand over my coarsely cropped hair. Too short to lay flat, it stuck out in any direction it saw fit. Losing my hair angered me but not out of some misguided vanity. How would I now attend the ball without being recognized? And if I couldn’t attend, how would I stop Maeve from getting everything she wanted?

  Turning from the mirror, I dressed and went to the window. Birds flitted about in the branches, their merry songs barely reaching my ears. I wished to walk among the trees. To feel the sun on my face. To forget the bloody blindfold covering Alfie’s eyes. Most of all, I wanted to cry. But, I refused to do it here where someone might witness my sorrow. Instead of doing any of that, I stared at the woods I loved and lost hours to memories of better times.

  The door opened, pulling me from my reverie. When I turned, my knees ached, and I thought of the old man with a shudder. It could have been worse. He could have tried to use me. Never had I been more glad to have given myself to Kaven than the moment I heard the man compliment my firm flesh.

  Footsteps echoed as someone ascended into my domain. Maeve looked me over when she reached the top of the stairs then set the tray she carried on the table.

  I didn’t immediately spit out the false thanks she expected, and her expression hardened.

  “Where are my manners,” I said with a smile. “They seem to have escaped me with all these wondrous thoughts floating in my head. Thank you for feeding me, Mama.”

  Too much sarcasm laced my words, and her resulting smile should have struck fear in me. I was too blindly angry, though.

  “I see.”

  “I’m glad someone still does.”

  I turned toward the window.

  “You test me?”

  Glancing at her, I snorted.

  “What will you do? Gouge out my eyes? Drain me of my essence? Walk me naked through the streets? Have men use me and touch me? Cut the hair from my head?” My voice rose with each question. “Do it all! I care not. You’ve already killed me; my body is only too stupid to die.”

  The anger immediately left her gaze.

  “Then this tray was an unnecessary gesture. Enjoy your solitude.”

  She took the tray with her as she departed.

  I cursed my temper. Though I wasn’t the least bit hungry now, I would be tomorrow. And I doubted I would see another tray for some time.

  Something crashed from below, and I smiled, hoping it was Maeve. It wasn’t right that I should be the only one seething. My smile faded as I realized people tended to die when she was angry. I hurried toward the door, unsure what I could do or say to fix the mess I’d made.

  The soft murmur of voices from the vents stopped me.

  “…said to her.”

  I moved closer to Cecilia’s vent.
<
br />   “I don’t know. But I’ve never seen her so angry.”

  “I didn’t know she had the strength to overturn the table.”

  “You should never doubt Mama’s capabilities in anything. Perhaps Eloise did something when Mama told her about the dinner.”

  I frowned and looked toward the attic door. Maeve had never brought me a tray before. It was always Cecilia or Porcia. How could I have so foolishly not recognized there might have been another reason for her visit?

  “Do you think the Prince will turn us away if she’s not with us?”

  “Don’t be silly. If he wanted to dine with Eloise alone, that’s what he would have requested.”

  “I don’t know…Kaven’s expression was odd when Mama told him Eloise wasn’t feeling well and might not be able to attend. I wouldn’t be shocked if we receive another message cancelling the invitation before the night is over.”

  “Nonsense. I can feel tomorrow night will be my opportunity, Porcia. I will beguile the Prince with my womanly charm without Eloise there to distract him.”

  I quietly moved away from the vent and looked out the window at the fading light. Nothing moved out there. How long ago had Kaven called? I hoped that he didn’t believe he’d somehow hurt me with last night’s activities. Or worse, that I was avoiding him.

  Tired from standing and thinking, I lay on my bed. I didn’t bother to light a candle. Staring at the darkness above me, I listened to the bird song fade to be replaced with the occasional hoot of an owl. Below, the house quieted.

  Though my day had been long and taxing, I couldn’t sleep. In the silence, my mind kept returning to Alfie and dwelled on what I should have tried in order to prevent his fate. Deep down, I knew there was nothing. It had been a test of loyalty, and he had been the only one who knew me. Everyone else was already dead. Except Kellen. Maybe.

  Rather than wait for the next tragedy to strike, I rose and padded across the floor in my bare feet. There was only one course of action that was open to me at this point. I needed to go to the tree. I hesitated and looked at the small patch of the outside world visible through the window. Although the hour was late, and this household was abed, would Kaven, too, be sleeping? Or was he wandering the woods in the hopes that I would meet him as I had the night before?

  My hand lifted to touch my shorn hair. What excuse could I give for how I looked if he did happen upon me? Perhaps I should wait until tomorrow evening when—I shook my head. Waiting meant that Cecilia would have the Prince alone. He would be unprotected, and so would the kingdom.

  Resolved, I snuck through the house and let myself outside. The cool ground anchored me to the moment. For now, I was free to do as I pleased. Free to feel the night wind on my face. Free to ask for help.

  The bird in the clearing chirped a quiet greeting.

  “Please stay silent for me,” I said softly. “I cannot be discovered tonight.”

  The bird chirped again but did not sing.

  I went to stand before the tree and looked up into the blossom laden branches.

  “My life is changing faster than I think I can bear. Yet, I know I will. The suffering I’ve witnessed in Towdown cannot be allowed to continue. Help me to stop it. Please. Help me understand what I must do.”

  The little bird chirped twice, and the branches shook, raining down petals upon my head. Before me, a light flashed amidst the blossoms. As I watched, a bud rapidly grew on the branch nearest me until one by one the petals of the bloom opened to reveal a silver ring.

  I took the ring and turned it in the moonlight. An inlaid golden crown stood out against the grey. My heart clenched, and I looked at the bird.

  “I’m meant to marry him, aren’t I?”

  In response, the small creature took flight and landed on my finger. It sang a soft song filled with sorrow.

  A lone tear trailed down my cheek.

  “So be it,” I whispered.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When the room began to lighten, I sat up with a weary sigh and removed the chamber pot from under my bed. I hadn’t lied the day before when I told Maeve she’d killed me. There was nothing left in me for her to hurt or take. My last hidden dream of a life with Kaven was gone, killed by the tree’s gift of a groom’s ring fit only for a prince.

  The numbness and anger that consumed me at all that Maeve had taken or forced upon me left only a mere echo of the girl I used to be.

  When I finished with the chamber pot, I went to the washbasin and froze at the sight of my hair in the mirror. Last night when I’d returned from my time with the tree, I’d hidden the ring behind the chimney and washed before changing into my nightgown. My hair had been the same jagged cropping as it had before. Since then, it had grown several inches, almost covering my ears.

  I looked horrible, but I grinned. Maeve would be irate when she saw this. She would wonder who had helped me, again, and likely have a fit. I looked around the attic. There was nothing else to find here save the ring, and I’d hidden that higher than I could reach without the assistance of a chair.

  Even the thought of waking again in town, naked and sick, couldn’t rob me of my humor as I dressed for the day and went to sit at the table. I didn’t expect them to feed me this morning and wondered how much longer my hair would grow by the time they did.

  Happiness, the true kind that cannot be contained, often made people do strange things. I was no exception. I threw open my window.

  “Tis a fine morning, is it not?” I called softly to the birds. I grinned and started singing. It wasn’t loud, just a happy song from my childhood. Something Kellen and I would sing while playing in the puddles after a rain. The birds joined me, creating a melody that shook the trees.

  From the vents, I heard Cecilia yell for the birds to quiet. Suitably entertained for the morning, I took the book of fairytales and sat in a comfortable chair.

  Porcia arrived with a tray near midday. I looked up from my story as she set it on the table.

  “Thank you, sister. I’m quite famished.”

  Ignoring her wide-eyed stare, I pulled the tray close and scooped up a bite of oats.

  “You had best fetch her quickly,” I said. “She’ll want to know.” Putting the bite into my mouth, I groaned.

  She pivoted and jogged down the stairs. The door closed but no key turned in the lock. I chuckled and began eating faster. It was probably foolish to fill my stomach, given Maeve’s new favorite form of punishments, but I was too hungry to care. I’d barely finished my bowl when the door opened below. Pushing the tray aside, I waited. Maeve came alone, her gaze sweeping the room.

  “No one came here,” I said. “I went to bed shorn and woke like this. Well, not like this. I think it’s grown more since waking.” I touched the ends that were closer to my jawline than the bottom of my ear now.

  She gazed at me thoughtfully.

  “Yet, this is not the work of the protection spell as the hair was cut free from your head.”

  Her gaze swept the room again.

  “How do you explain this then?”

  “I cannot.” For I couldn’t. I didn’t know how my hair was growing. However, I did have my suspicions. The tree. But I wasn’t sure how.

  “Very well. What has been undone can be done again.”

  She left the attic and returned a short while later with Seth and the shears Judith had kept in the kitchen. He approached with a mean look in his eyes.

  “I won’t struggle against this,” I said looking at her. “He doesn’t need to hold me.”

  “I believe he does.”

  He grabbed my arm and jerked me upright only to throw me toward a chair. I tumbled into it, falling to the floor. His weight landed on top of me.

  “Where do you want me to hold her?” he asked.

  “Anywhere you would like.” She gripped my hair.

  His weight shifted, and I felt his hand slide up my leg. The first snick of the shears echoed as I fought to free myself from Seth’s hold.

  �
�Foul retch, get off me!”

  The speed with which Maeve wielded the shears was the only thing that stopped Seth from reaching my underthings.

  “Release her,” she said after the final snip.

  He immediately obeyed, and I scrambled to my feet. Seth stood far too close, grinning smugly. I stomped on his foot then lifted a knee the moment he widened his stance. He fell to the floor with a grunt and looked up at Maeve as an unnatural flush slowly crept up his face.

  I turned to her too, bracing myself for some form of retribution. Instead of directing any anger at me, Maeve arched a brow at Seth.

  “I will not reprimand Eloise for that, and neither will you. Next time, take less joy in your task, and stand at a safer distance when finished. And never forget who holds your loyalty. You are mine to use as I see fit.”

  He nodded and slowly got to his feet. Seth wasn’t as fully under her thrall as Hugh had been, for the look he gave me as he left was filled with promised retribution.

  The door had hardly been closed for more than a few minutes after their departure when I heard Cecilia’s screech of outrage from the vents.

  “Cast a truth spell on her.”

  The sound of Maeve’s voice was easily recognizable even if her words were not. I hurried toward the vent, light on my feet.

  “I apologize, Mother. I certainly didn’t mean for my suggestion to sound like an order. The idea of cancelling our appearance tonight has me distraught. Without her there, this could be my chance to lure the Prince.”

  “Without her there, this could be your chance to ruin everything as well. I wasn’t blind to Kaven’s reaction when I said she wouldn’t be attending. Rather than provoke suspicion, it’s wisest to send our regrets and state we’re all feeling ill. It might also help pass any budding suspicion after your foolish sleight of hand with his wine.”

  I smiled and went back to my book.

  Maeve was running out of excuses, patience, and time, which made her dangerously unpredictable. I sat at the breakfast table, my gaze fixed on the stew before me as I listened to her fingers thrum over the wooden surface.

 

‹ Prev