by M. J. Haag
Maeve stood at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes cold as she watched me descend. Her gaze flicked briefly to my hair. She said nothing about it as she turned and bade for me to follow.
Below, Porcia and Cecilia waited in the sitting room. Both seemed more subdued than usual.
“What happened?” I asked, trying to sound as if I cared. It was difficult to do when everything inside of me felt dead and heavy.
“The mystery maiden was there,” Maeve said. “She ran from the ball, chased by the Prince’s servant. Show me your feet.”
I blinked in confusion and lifted my nightgown to peek at my own feet. They were clean despite running without a shoe.
“All of you,” Maeve said impatiently. I looked at Porcia and Cecilia in confusion as they hurried to remove their stocking and shoes. “Line up with your sister. It’s no wonder the Prince wasn’t interested in the pair of you. You don’t even have a full thought put together.”
When the three of us stood in a row, Maeve studied our feet.
“Cecilia, yours might be a bit too long. You will need to cut away some of your heel. Porcia, yours are too wide. Likely all those years of overindulging your sweets. Cut away your little toe.”
Porcia paled, and Maeve stepped before me.
“It always seems to come back to you, doesn’t it, Eloise?” she said.
“I don’t understand. Why do our feet matter?”
“Because the Prince has decreed he will have no other for his bride but the runaway maiden.”
My stomach twisted. What was Greydon thinking?
“Since she is a mystery, a Royal procession will go from home to home with the slipper she lost tonight on the stairs. The maid who fits the slipper and can produce its match will be queen.”
I now understood why she wanted Porcia and Cecilia to cut away bits of themselves. But why look at my feet?
“You think the shoe will fit me?” I asked, dread settling into my stomach.
“I was able to pick it up and study it for a moment before the Prince’s servant took it in the name of the Crown. Yes, I believe it will fit you. But only if it does not fit my more obedient daughters first.”
“How will you produce its match?”
“Don’t worry about that. I always find a way. Go to your room and clean up the hair. Don’t cut it again until the queen is chosen.”
I nodded and hurried away.
In my room, I gathered up the hair in a spare bedsheet. Descending again, I found Maeve in the entry, staring at the place the mirror once resided. She turned at the sound of my approach.
She glanced at the bundle and pointed to the kitchen.
“Throw it in the fire. Hair burns quickly.”
The sound of soft sobs coming from the direction of the kitchen made my stomach twist sickeningly as if I’d crossed the estate’s boundaries. However, given Maeve’s current mood, I didn’t dare disobey.
With a quiet, “Yes, Mama,” I left her in the entry and went to join my sisters in the kitchen.
“Stop crying,” Cecilia said harshly as I opened the door.
Porcia looked up at me, her eyes red and her cheeks tear stained. At her feet, Cecilia knelt with a paring knife in her hand.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“Mama told me to burn my hair.” I quickly turned my back to them.
“It should be you who needs the knife,” she said angrily. “Not us. We’ve always obeyed.”
My skin crawled with disgust. It was their willingness to do whatever Maeve wanted and their perverse need for power that put them where they were. I held no pity for them.
“I’ll slice along the side of the toe and cut it from the joint. It will leave more skin to sew it closed.”
Not wanting to stay and witness what they were about to do, I threw the whole balled up sheet into the fire. It caught within moments, and the eye-watering stench of burning hair drove me from the room before Cecilia made the first cut.
I paced the floor, watching the sky lighten. No one had come to lock my door last night, and I wasn’t sure if that meant I was to go downstairs for breakfast or remain where I was. I would much prefer the latter. Solitude felt like a balm as I speculated the different outcomes for Greydon’s newest deception.
It wasn’t until I’d returned to my room the evening before that I gave the reason behind the proclamation any thought. He knew to whom the slipper belonged, so the proclamation was a trap for those who meant the Crown harm. Of course, many maids would fit the shoe. It was the maid who was not me, but able to produce the match, who would reveal herself as the caster. Would it be enough, though? Without a doubt, Maeve would see to it that Cecilia or Porcia would fit the shoe. But would her magic be able to recreate the missing shoe? And if so, would Greydon know it wasn’t just the maid but the mother and sister as well? If not, I doubted I would be able to condemn them all with the spell still holding me mute. And, if Maeve wasn’t condemned, she would still be free to find another way to get what she wanted.
I glanced at the chimney where the ring still remained hidden. The tree meant for me to wed Prince Greydon. Of that I was certain. I’d been willing to give myself over to the Prince because, arrogance aside, I’d thought him honest. But last night’s revelation had me questioning everything, including how far I was willing to go to save a people who didn’t even know me. I’d walked through Towdown naked, and only one person had stepped forward to help me.
Why should I give so much for so very little in return? And I most certainly did not aspire to someday become a queen. While the position might offer some privilege, it offered far more obligation.
I thought back to when Kellen and I roamed as we would, free of responsibility and pain, and the desire to return to the days before Mother died overwhelmed me.
“There has to be another way,” I whispered.
I didn’t believe in fate. It was an excuse for those who didn’t have the will to fight for what they wanted. I had will and then some. And I wanted the freedom to choose my own future.
Outside, early morning sunlight glinted through the treetops. I had time. No one, save the maids, ever rose so early. Decided, I hurried to escape my attic refuge. The house was quiet on the second floor, and I softly closed my door to tiptoe down the stairs. If I hurried, I could return from the clearing and be the first in the dining room.
The birds greeted me with a cheery song as I ran along the path. The cool morning air filled me with life and energy. I wished more than anything I could continue running through the trees. Run all the way to the Dark Forest and scream Kellen’s name until she heard me.
Instead, I burst into Mother’s clearing and fell to my knees at the base of the tree.
“There must be another way,” I begged. “I cannot do what you want. Please.”
The bird chirped from a branch, its song distressed.
“You don’t understand. Everything has been a lie. Lies on top of lies. That isn’t the life I want. I will not accept it.”
The tree shivered and shook and above me a single bud appeared. It grew in size until its petals opened one by one. From inside, another ring fell into my hand.
With a sinking heart, I looked at the elegant ring. Smaller than the first, the band of silver was much thinner and more ornately carved. Instead of a gold crown, this one had a crown of diamond with sapphire chips at each peak. It was the female match to the male ring I already had. This one was meant for me.
I fisted my hand around the ring and drew back my arm to throw the unwanted jewelry into the woods. I would not do as it wanted.
A hand closed over mine.
Shocked, I looked up at Maeve as she pried my fingers apart. She took the ring and looked up at the tree.
“How is this possible? Who enchanted this tree?”
I scrambled to my feet, fear and anger loosening my tongue and spurring me to speak without first considering my words.
“Father gave me a pear tree shoot the day before w
e buried my mother. Once touched by—” My throat closed over the word.
“The magic from the amulet?” Maeve said, guessing what I meant to say.
I nodded.
“When I planted it here, I think what had touched her lingered and touched the tree.”
“How does it work?”
In that moment, I knew I couldn’t tell her. What would Maeve ask for? What would the tree give?
I stared at her defiantly, and she grabbed my arm.
“Do not think the Prince’s affection for the manservant will stay my hand a second time. Tell me.”
My mind raced. The manservant wasn’t unprotected like she thought. Had I paid more attention during our night together, I felt certain I would have noted an amulet. However, even if she couldn’t hurt him, she could still take her anger out on others. And, the tree never gave me what I wanted but what it thought I needed to stop her.
“I ask the tree for what I need, and it falls from the branches,” I said, hoping I was right that the tree wouldn’t help her.
Maeve released me and looked up at the budding leaves.
“I need a way to see those who seek to stop me from gaining the throne.”
The little bird chirped in its nest and took flight. I watched it disappear into the forest, heading toward Towdown.
“Well?” Maeve said impatiently, still staring up in the branches.
“I don’t think it’s going to work. The bird flew away.”
“You said it was the tree who granted you what you wanted.”
I shook my head.
“It grants me what I need, not what I want. And the bird is always there. It’s never flown away before.”
Her cold gaze went to the ring in her hand before locking onto me.
“And what else has the tree given you?”
“A mask and a dress and shoes to match.”
Her eyes widened in understanding, and she struck out, slapping me hard. My head jerked with the impact.
“You thought to use my power against me?” she demanded.
“Yes,” I said simply, holding her gaze.
Her eyes narrowed on me.
“Where is the other shoe?”
“I gave it back to the tree when I returned.”
She looked at the tree and put her hand to her chest.
“Let tinder burn to nothing but cinder. That made of gold, silver, or glass let the fire bypass.”
With a flash of green light, the tree ignited. I grabbed Maeve’s arm angrily.
“Without the tree, you have no hope of producing the matching shoe.”
She struck me again, the impact sending me to the ground.
“Do not presume to admonish me,” she yelled. “If the tree still holds the shoe, the flames will not touch it. If the tree does not, I have no use for it. And neither do you.”
With tears filling my eyes, I watched my mother’s tree, my father’s last gift to me, burn to nothing in mere minutes. Maeve grabbed me and pushed me into the coal.
“Dig in the ashes. Find the shoe.”
I shifted through the hot coals, my slippers burning away along with the base of my dress. The heat didn’t touch my skin, though. I dug and dug but found no shoe. I did, however, find the remnants of the bird’s little nest, filled with red hot coals. I swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the anger that shook my limbs.
Why was I listening to Maeve? To protect two maids I didn’t even know? I was done trying to think rationally and keep my temper under control.
With an angry cry, I stood and threw a fistful of hot coals at Maeve. They scattered, hitting her face and bodice. Instead of crying out in pain, she laughed and brushed away the coals.
“I thought the spell of protection quite clever and decided I needed one for myself.”
She stalked toward me and grabbed my arm.
“Is there anything else you would care to try?”
“Yes.”
I punched her right in the mouth.
She laughed, and I tumbled headlong into oblivion.
Chapter Fifteen
Waking from Maeve’s spell wasn’t like waking from sleep. There was no hazy unclarity or pleasant restfulness. Rather, it was an instant awareness.
A clatter of noise rose outside.
Opening my eyes, the familiar sight of my attic space greeted me. However, the day’s fading light cast shadows in the room.
I sat up and scanned myself, finding I still wore the charred remnants of my dress. That didn’t make sense. I’d thrown coal at Maeve’s face, and when that hadn’t worked, I’d hit her. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe either act would go unpunished. Yet, I was still clothed and comfortable on my bed instead of in a hovel in Towdown.
What did Maeve have planned now?
Hurrying from the bed, I moved to stand, and my eyes caught on the two dresses laying on the table I used for my solitary meals. Maid’s dresses. And shoes. But the shoes were standing upright as if still—
A small pained sound escaped me as I recognized the shriveled twisted remains of the two maids. Throat tight and tears wetting my lashes, I went to them. How could I have been so foolish? I’d known what would happen and had acted rashly, regardless of the consequences.
A note waited on the chest of one. I picked it up and read the brief scrawl.
Their lives for your defiance and a shoe. Clean yourself and join us in the sitting room, or more will follow.
Tears spilled over as the sounds in the yard continued.
“Poor Catherine and Heather,” I said softly. “Killed twice over and for what? Her petty need for retribution.”
I set my hand on the skirt of one. I wasn’t even sure which it was.
“Rest peacefully, knowing that I am not yet finished. I will give my dying breath to see her fall. She will suffer for all that she’s done.”
Wiping my eyes, I noted the washbowl and gown that waited on the chair near the table. The dress wasn’t one I recognized as belonging to Cecilia or Porcia. Holding it up to me, I found the length perfect, which meant Maeve had it made for me at some point. The knowledge that she still thought to use me grated at my raw nerves. I looked down at my ragged skirt and, for the briefest of moments, considered leaving it on. However, her note clearly stated what the outcome of such defiance would be.
“Eloise Cartwright,” a male voice called from below. “We await your presence.”
Stripping from the remnants of my gown, I quickly washed my face then changed. While I laced the dress, I struggled to piece together what Maeve might intend. She’d kept me under her spell for the majority of the day, only to wake me now when we had guests. Not a few but many from the sounds of the horses outside. And, the authority that clearly rang in the voice that just called to me could only mean one thing. The Prince and his contingent were here because of the proclamation.
My mind raced with my feet. When I reached the top of the main staircase, I stopped and stared at all of the men I glimpsed through the open entry door. A veritable army.
“Miss Cartwright?” a voice asked.
“Yes,” I said, looking at the older man who waited at the bottom of the stairs. He wasn’t dressed as a guard but wore a fine jacket to rival any I saw on the King.
“Your mother and sisters are waiting for you.”
I slowly descended and took his arm, letting him escort me into the sitting room. Two guards stood sentinel just inside the door.
Standing before the fire, Prince Garreth’s presence was as stately as ever. When he glanced at me, his gaze gave nothing away.
Maeve, sitting in a chair nearest to the door, smiled when I entered.
“There you are darling. You’ve kept the Prince waiting.”
I ignored her admonishment and looked at Cecilia and Porcia, who sat on a settee near the Prince. Porcia looked pale, her upper lip glistening. Cecilia looked unaffected by whatever she’d done to herself.
The final occupant in the room stood by the chair across from t
he pair. The chair to which I was being led. My heart started to race, and I refused to look at Greydon, who watched my approach. Instead, I focused on the firelight that glinted off the original slipper he held displayed prominently on a silken cushion.
In everything that had happened, I hadn’t considered the impossibility of carrying out the proclamation. The slipper should have vanished at the eleventh hour like its partner. How was it still here? I thought of the ring in the attic and the one Maeve took, no longer sure what rules applied to the items given by the tree.
“Are there any other maidens in the house?” the older man asked after I sat.
“No, Lord Firth,” Maeve said. “None.”
“Very well. This day has been long as you can imagine. Now that all the maidens are present, we must ask if you have the match to this shoe.”
There was a rustle of sound near my head, and Cecilia gasped.
“You recognize it, miss?” the older man asked.
“I do. Alas, I no longer have the match. It was broken in my race from the castle.”
Doubt clouded the man’s eyes.
“As we’ve heard many times today.”
“And did the shoe fit those maids?”
“They did not,” he said, reluctantly.
“Then allow me to prove to you that the shoe is mine.”
Greydon stepped forward with the slipper, and my heart lurched at the sight of his broad shoulders as he passed the cushion to Lord Firth. The man knelt before Cecilia and removed her slipper. I watched in horror as my shoe easily slid into place over her foot.
She smiled brilliantly at Garreth.
“It fits,” she said.
“So it does,” he said calmly.
A bird flew into the room, startling us all.
“Check her heel while you kneel,” it sang before flying from the room just as quickly as it had come.
Lord Firth glanced at Garreth, who nodded. Cecilia quickly removed her foot from his hold.
“Surely you’re not going to believe an enchanted bird?” she said. “The creature itself is treachery.”