Beauty's Cursed Prince

by Mary E. Twomey

  She whipped around the house, employing the birds and squirrels who came out when the Tremaines weren’t around. The animals put themselves to good use, helping Ella with the many chores. The squirrels dusted, the birds picked up errant misplaced items from around the house and put them away, and a skunk offered her services to help Ella wash the windows with her tail.

  She tried to send out her Listening to them. She’d always been able to understand them, but without getting direct words. It was almost intuitive, while communicating with the Lupine had been more of a two-way conversation. Ella reasoned that perhaps it was more direct with the Lupine because they had once been humans, so parts of their minds were still the same. Normal animals didn’t have such advantages.

  Ella was covered in dust from her inside chores. It was slightly better than her work yesterday, which had been mostly done outside, and had left her socks soaked through. She’d bought herself winter boots before, but they had been confiscated by Lady Tremaine, who claimed she dawdled during her outside chores if her feet were too comfortable.

  Ella was nursing a bone-aching cold virus, but didn’t dare ask for time to lie down. The Baron was to come over for dinner that night, and she knew that meant Lady Tremaine would tolerate nothing out of place. Despite her runny nose and foggy brain, Ella made individual soufflés for the meal, along with blanched vegetables with a lemon butter sauce drizzled over. The table was set to perfection, including Lady Tremaine’s scrutiny of the silverware, which Ella had polished that morning.

  “This one is spotty.” Her tightly pulled bun permitted only the slightest hint of a frown. “Clean them all again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ella didn’t mention that the spot Lady Tremaine was seeing was her own thumbprint. She did the chore again, and then hurried to arrange the flowers with the red roses facing Lady Tremaine’s seat, since they pleased her most.

  Ella moved to the bathroom on the main floor, knowing she had very little time to clean it before the Baron arrived. She nearly dropped the bucket when she opened the door to find Drizella on her hands and knees, her fingers down her throat, forcing a stream of vomit into the toilet.

  “Oh! No, Drizella! This isn’t the way.” Ella took a clean rag from the cupboard and ran it under cold water, pressing it to the nape of Drizella’s neck. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  “Because the ball is in less than three weeks’ time, and I haven’t lost a single pound! Less than three weeks!”

  Ella flushed the toilet and dabbed the puke off Drizella’s chin. “How much weight do you imagine you need to lose? You’re rail thin as it is.”

  “I have to catch the eye of the prince! You wouldn’t understand. You don’t know what it takes to nab a royal. Mother understands. She landed the Baron. Don’t you see that I have to do better?”

  Ella didn’t argue with Drizella, but fanned her sweaty face and leaned her back against the wall. “Sweetheart, you have to eat something. I made your favorite soufflé with plenty of porcini mushrooms.”

  “Don’t you dare serve me that! Do you know how many calories are in a soufflé?” Her voice was sharp as a slap, and made Ella wince. “If you give me that, I’ll beat you till I burn off the extra calories.”

  Ella bit down on her lower lip, knowing that whatever she suggested would only get her into trouble. “Yes, ma’am.” She stood and exited the bathroom, sneezing twice in the hallway. She didn’t see Lady Tremaine coming her way, which usually would’ve been her cue to make herself scarce.

  “You stink like vomit,” Lady Tremaine commented. “Go wash up. It won’t do you any good to parade yourself around covered in dust like this. The Baron should be here in twenty minutes. Do not disappoint me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Then Ella watched in horror as Lady Tremaine opened the bathroom door, took in her daughter on the floor hovered over the toilet, and gave a tight nod. “Carry on, Drizella. You must fit into your gown.”

  Ella hadn’t possessed the urge to speak up for herself in ages, but the words nearly bubbled out of her mouth to defend the stepsister who had always despised her. She wanted to shout at the injustice, but shoved her filthy fist into her mouth to stave off the chastisement that would surely produce nothing good. Ella turned on her heel, determined that she wouldn’t greet Remus Johnstone with a black eye this time.

  Ella was quick in the shower, knowing that two minutes in, one of the girls would flush the toilet to douse her in freezing water. How she needed the hot steam to fill her aching lungs. Her cold felt set deep in her bones, making her nearly weepy for her bed.

  She dressed quickly in her white serving blouse and black slacks, wishing she could wear fifteen flannels and fourteen woolen scarves. Her socks had holes in them, and she tried not to shiver in the drafty attic as she bundled her meager possessions up to take with her when Remus arrived.

  Her hair was still wet when the doorbell rang, and Drizella’s nasally voice echoed through the house. “Ella! Get the door! Proper ladies don’t answer their own door.”

  Ella shoved her thin, holey shoes on and stumbled down the steps, blowing her nose once more before shoving her tissue in her pocket. Her hair was fashioned up using two pencils, forming a messy, wet bun atop her head that slowly dribbled down her neck. She kept her chin down as she opened the door, her eyes falling on the pointy black leather shoes of the Baron and his guest. “Good evening, sirs. May I take your coats?”

  The Baron tsked her, his garlicky breath brushing her skin with all the intentionality of a hand across her neck. “Now, now. Where’s my smile? What a waste of a beautiful servant. Come, Ella. Let’s see that smile. I didn’t come all this way for the food.”

  Ella’s eyes were puffy and rimmed with pink. Her nose was red around the edges, and her lips were dry from not sitting down to take a drink in the past twenty-four hours. Still, she obeyed, her skin crawling as she mustered up a wan smile for him, which was aimed at his shoes.

  His long, bony fingers reached out and curled under her chin, lifting her face so he could study it, as if she was a show dog. “Didn’t I tell you? Beautiful. There’s nothing more luxuriant than having something spectacular under your feet.”

  Mr. Herchon had a round belly and a nose too wide for him not to make low snorting noises while performing the simple labor of breathing. “She makes my servant look like an old maid.”

  The Baron released Ella’s face, turning her chin forcefully to the side. “Yes, well, your servant is an old maid. Go on inside.” His voice carried to Lady Tremaine, who was standing a few feet behind Ella, her pleasant expression frozen in place to hold back her indignation over the Baron showing an interest in Ella yet again. The Baron gave Lady Tremaine a slight bow with a simpering smile. “Good evening, Lady Tremaine. Lovely as ever. Your little servant made us wait in the cold out here for an entire minute. I’d like a word with her to educate her on how your household should be run.”

  Ella turned and begged Lady Tremaine with her eyes not to allow her to be alone with the Baron, even on the front porch, but Lady Tremaine’s flash of rage was glossed over with a breezy smile. “Of course, smookiepoo. Whatever you like.” Then she shoved Ella out the front door to stand on the porch with the Baron, welcoming Mr. Herchon into the house and shutting the door behind him.

  Ella took a step back until she was teetering on the edge of the icy stoop. She kept her chin down and crossed her arms over her chest while she shivered, the winter weather catching in her wet hair, and taking the freeze deep to her innards where she was sure it would never leave. Even without help from the weather, the Baron’s gaze always left her feeling cold.

  “Come here, Ella.”

  She was too scared to comply, frozen solid on the precipice of the stoop.

  The Baron chuckled at her resistance, and reached out to cup her elbow. “What are the chances I could parade you around naked in front of Lady Tremaine, and she wouldn’t say a word?”

  Ella knew speaking in her ow
n defense would only be seen as a challenge, so she remained silent. She was too tired and sick to put up much of a fight when he moved her to face him, and backed her up against the front door, shielding her body from view of the neighbors. Her limbs were stiff, and she felt herself float up out of her body, watching with horror as the Baron plucked open the top two buttons of her white serving shirt.

  Her arms moved to shove him off, but his thick fur coat afforded his limbs movement she simply didn’t have. Another button opened, and he eyed her no-frills beige bra with unconcealed lust, hissing through his thin lips at the sight of her breasts—buoyant and on display for him. He thumbed the peaks as she struggled against him, vomit rising in her throat. “Leave me alone!” she shouted, finally pushing him off the porch.

  “I could have you arrested for that.”

  “I could have you arrested for this!” Ella spat back, angry and embarrassed as she buttoned up her shirt.

  “The top three buttons will remain open throughout the entire meal,” he ordered, running his hand down his long coat to appear like a dignified official giving a command. “If I don’t get to see you as I wish, I’ll pay Lady Tremaine for the rights to take you back to my home. Remus had his turn with you. Let’s see how well you fare in my bed for four days.”

  Her eyes widened with terror, and her limbs ceased all movement. “Is that what you think happened?”

  The Baron laughed. “That’s right. I know all about Remus’ offer for you. Smart man, taking you home so he can do with you as he wishes. He may be younger than me, but I can afford to buy you for far longer.”

  Ella whirled around to open the front door, but he swooshed his hand in the air to keep the door magically shut. “Leave me alone!”

  “The top three buttons, Ella, and I’ll be satisfied. Remus can have you for now, so long as I get a peek.”

  Ella’s fingers were numb, not unlike the rest of her. She hated herself and the world as she popped open the top three buttons on her shirt.

  The Baron pinched her when he moved past her to open the front door. He greeted Lady Tremaine with a kiss to her cheek and a smile that didn’t bother hiding all he’d done when she glanced over his shoulder and saw Ella so disheveled.

  Lady Tremaine’s tone was tart as she shoved Ella backward when Ella tried to move into the house. “No. You’ve upset us enough. You can wait out here until we’re ready for you to serve dinner.”

  With that, she locked Ella out of the house, leaving her to shiver on the front porch while the snow fell in thick sheets.

  Ella collapsed in the living room atop the rug when Anastasia was sent to let her inside. Ana glanced around to make sure no one could see from the dining room when she bent down and blew on Ella’s fingers. “She shouldn’t have left you out that long! And with wet hair?” Anastasia slapped Ella’s cheeks to bring some life into them, finally rousing her and getting her on her icy feet. She gripped Ella’s shoulders with a look of actual concern. “Just get through dinner service, and then you can warm up in your bedroom.”

  Ella couldn’t feel her fingers or her toes, but managed an open-mouthed astonishment at Anastasia. She didn’t speak her confusion at the offer of mercy, but worked out a nod.

  Anastasia directed Ella to the kitchen and popped a spear of asparagus into Ella’s mouth, glancing with paranoia over her shoulder, scared to get caught in the act of being mildly humane to her lowly stepsister. Then she pointed sternly in Ella’s face, as if warning her not to mention the kindness before she moved back out to the dining room.

  Ella was starving, but too tired to wish the food she’d made could be meant for her. Breakfast had been a strange affair that morning—not because Anastasia had left a handful of grapes on her usually cleaned plate, but because when she’d walked in and caught Ella eating the discarded food, she didn’t tell on her to Lady Tremaine. Then at lunch, she’d met Ella’s eyes and moved a few cubes of cheese to the side, leaving them there for her, as well.

  Ella didn’t understand the gesture as kindness—the thought was so foreign to her—but she ate with caution all the same the moment she was alone in the kitchen.

  She lit the gas burner and warmed her fingers over the small flames, though she couldn’t feel any difference. Thirty seconds of self-care was all she would allow herself before she set the tray with salads, trembling for too many reasons as she moved out into the dining room. She managed to keep her eyes down and avoid being brought into the conversation by the Baron as she served each course of the meal. A deep-set shiver wracked her bones and rattled the tray. She slipped upstairs only once to send a text to Remus and Henry, begging them to hurry.

  How she’d missed the sound of Henry’s laugh, and the way he banded his arms around her. There were too many things tugging at her insides, but in his embrace, the harrowing aspects of her daily life felt simpler and somehow manageable. She wanted a safe place to hide for just a little while. The bed she’d shared with him had been warm and inviting. What she wouldn’t give to feel the glow of his warmth again to stave off the coldness of cruelty.

  The moment dessert was served, Lady Tremaine followed Ella back to the kitchen, her grip too hard not to bruise as she grabbed Ella’s arm and yanked her down the hall. “That’s the last time you draw the Baron’s eye. You’ll stay in here until he’s gone.”

  Ella didn’t allow more than a bleat of agony when Lady Tremaine shoved her into the utility closet that was too narrow for her to sit down in, and locked her in the suffocating darkness.

  27

  The Darkness of Remus and Ella

  Ella had much practice struggling to fall asleep while standing up against the door. The trick was to kneel against the bucket, so her shins carried the brunt of her weight. Ella soaked through four rags as she blew her nose and attempted to dry her frozen hair in the darkness. She tried not to let the black void of claustrophobia gnaw away at her insides, but her nerves felt scraped raw all the same. She knew from experience that hyperventilation wouldn’t help anything, but the temptation to topple over the edge of sanity was always there, inviting her with its crooked finger to give in to the panic that would surely never leave her.

  It was half an hour later that hope sailed in her heart. The doorbell rang, and though Lady Tremaine never preferred answering it herself, her burning anger toward Ella outshined her pride at projecting a lifestyle of wealth.

  Remus’ voice made her heart stutter in her chest, but no sooner had it soared did it go crashing into the depths of her stomach. Henry’s voice carried with it a hopefulness that crushed her. Though she’d wanted nothing more than to see him again, this was not how she wanted to be seen. She shivered in the dark, clinging to her damp shirt that was now buttoned all the way to the collar. She wiped her sweaty face on the dirty rags and shoved them in the bucket. She straightened her shirt, as if that would undo all that was wrong. She tried to stand straight, but the dark was disorienting, so she placed her hands on the door to steady herself, knowing that at any moment, she would be free of her prison. The darkness made her dizzy, and her cold was taking a downward turn, making her weak and nauseous as she breathed in the stink of cleaning products.

  The pleasantries took agonizing minutes, each of which made Ella want to scream out for help. She bit her tongue, closing her eyes, so the darkness felt like her choice, instead of a punishment that had been inflicted upon her. She nearly clawed at the door when she heard Lady Tremaine’s long strides accompanied by Remus’ light, conversational tone. “Yes, we were in the area a little earlier than I anticipated. Apparently, we missed all that traffic everyone’s always complaining about. I hope I didn’t interrupt your dinner.”

  “Oh, of course not. We were just finishing up. Would you care for some dessert? I can have Ella whip up something sweet for you and Prince Henry.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of putting you out. Where is Ella? I’d like to get back to the house soon. I was hoping she could get started scouring the bottom of my sailboat tonight.
”

  “Sailboat? Surely it’s too cold for sailing, Mr. Johnstone.” Lady Tremaine let out a throaty chortle as she fished through her keys.

  “Indeed. I have a buyer for it, though, who wants to take a look at it in the morning. I do hope you haven’t worked Ella too hard. She’ll need to be scraping fungus and barnacles off the bottom all night if it’s to be ready by sunrise.”

  Ella nearly snorted at the ridiculous lie that made Remus seem like the grueling taskmaster Lady Tremaine would approve of.

  “I’m sure she’ll manage.” The key shoved into the door, but she didn’t turn the lock. “You know, there’s been another bid for Ella’s expertise. The Baron offered to pay more for her than you did last week.”

  Ella’s breath quickened as panic welled in her chest. Remus’ pause scared her, but she let out her breath when his words reassured her fears. “Lady Tremaine, I’d hate to think you were considering backing out of our deal. Surely you don’t think the Baron wants Ella for her ability to shine shoes. Neither of us are that naïve. I put Ella to work for her intended purpose, and nothing more. Do you want to sell Ella to the Baron? Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but I thought I saw you on his arm at the last Dinner of the Elite. Selling her to the Baron seems quite the conflict of interest.”

  Lady Tremaine’s voice was terse, though her words were well-chosen. “I don’t wish to sell Ella to him, no. But if you could only match the Baron’s price. He offered two hundred more than your fee.”

  Ella winched her eyes shut and silently begged Remus to free her, no matter the cost.

  Remus chose a different argument, his tone growing indignant. “My dear lady, if you’re in the business of selling your servants for sexual favors, then I can’t be seen doing business with you. In fact, if you’re insinuating what I think you are, then I’ll have no choice but to report you to the king!”