by Aron Lewes
“She's probably sad because she has to see your face,” Sharman haughtily suggested.
“Nah. She's probably sad because she has to see your face,” Rank fired back at him, which earned him a slap on the head from one of the guards. “What's wrong, Cinda love? Is Princey not so charming after all?”
Cinda didn't reply. She didn't even look at him. She kept her eyes on the floor.
“Look at this!” Rank suddenly exclaimed. “I just realized something. We've got Sweeping Beauty and a Sleeping Beauty! Isn't that nice?”
“Quiet,” Sharman croaked. “I didn't bring you here to prattle. I brought you here to kiss my sister.”
“I imagine that's a rare thing for a big brother to say, eh?” Rank chuckled. Slinking closer to Rose's bed, he added, “You've been lining up men to sample these lips. That must be awkward for you.”
“Once again,” Sharman sighed, “you're not here to chat. You're here to kiss my sister and leave.”
“Alright, alright...” Rank agreed as he leaned over the princess' face. Before their lips touched, he added, “Wake up, Little Rosie. Your soulmate's here.”
When Rank's lips brushed hers, she didn't wake up—and he didn't back off. He stole a much longer kiss than necessary. Even when Sharman cleared his throat, Rank didn't stop.
“That's enough,” Sharman told him.
But Rank kept kissing her.
“That's enough!” the prince repeated more forcefully. Finally, one of the guards grabbed Rank's collar and dragged him away. “I should cut off your head for taking such liberties!”
“Eh... go ahead,” Rank challenged him. “I don't really have a big attachment to my head. If it rolled, I'd be alright with that.” In his pocket, Rank could feel Gloriosa punching his chest. The witch was trying to get his attention, so he whispered, “What?”
“Should I tell Cinderella I'm with you?” Gloriosa asked. “I wouldn't want her to worry.”
“Nah. That's not a good idea,” Rank quietly replied. “Besides, I bet she's barely spared a thought for you. She's having way too much fun with Princey.”
When Rank's eyes met Cinda's, he tried to smile at her, but she didn't return the gesture. In fact, her expression was sadder than ever.
As Rank was jostled from the room, Gloriosa's head emerged from his pocket. She wanted to get a glimpse of Cinderella before they were pushed into the hall.
“She does look sad,” Gloriosa agreed with him. “Why is that?”
“I dunno.” Rank hitched a shoulder. “I guess Princey's sucked her soul. Poor girl.”
“I can’t believe it!” Sharman complained, sinking into the chair across from Cinda. “In the last three days, my sister's kissed three hundred men, and none of them woke her up. What am I supposed to do?”
They were sitting in the garden with Terra, who was on her third cup of tea. His fiance's stepsister was the first to offer advice. “Just keep trying, Your Highness. Eventually, you might find a match.”
“Or maybe I should just give up,” muttered a sighing Sharman. As soon as the prince sat down, a servant rushed over with a fresh, steaming pot of tea, so he poured himself a cup. “There are thousands of men in the world. Millions, even. Is Rose supposed to kiss them all?”
“She's probably kissed more men than any woman in the world,” Cinda added, which earned her a sneer from the slumbering princess' brother.
“Thanks for making me feel even worse, Cinderella. I really appreciate that,” Sharman grumbled.
“I'm sorry!” Cinda apologized. When a servant delivered a plate of fresh lemon biscuits, she quickly claimed two. “I didn't mean to make you upset. I just thought it was an interesting observation.”
“It's not an interesting observation. It's an terrible observation. I've been whoring out my sister's lips to every man within a mile. Do you think I feel good about that?” Sharman took a moment to fuss with his hair. When he saw Terra eyeing his curls, he smiled at her.
“I'm sorry,” his fiance apologized again.
“It's alright.” The prince sipped his tea and sighed. “I guess I should just keep at it. Eventually, something must work... right?”
“What if the princess' soulmate is on the other side of the world?” Terra asked. “What then?”
Sharman snorted at her question. “Believe me, I have considered that.”
Between bites of her biscuit, Cinderella asked, “Where is King Alexandus? Shouldn't he be with his daughter?”
She was referring to Sharman's absent father, and judging from the reappearing sneer on Sharman's nose, he didn't appreciate the question. “My father is a busy man, dear. He's needed at the Autumn Palace.”
“Still, if you and I are going to be married, I'd like to meet him eventually.” Cinda gave him an encouraging smile. “And I'll be meeting your sister soon, I'm sure of it!”
Cinderella had gotten hopelessly addicted to the Winter Palace's lemon biscuits. She had been living there for a week, and she requested them daily. As she reached for another, her hand froze over the plate. The sound of flapping wings made her pause. Her halted hand trembled as she turned her eyes skyward.
There was a dragon sitting on one of the Winter Palace's spiral towers. It was a massive, sinewy beast with leathery yellow scales and a long, barbed tail. When it screeched, she thought it sounded a bit like a whinnying horse.
The dragon was immediately identified by Terra, who continued to sip her tea as she studied it. “That's a Cedarwood Shrieker.”
The prince's eyebrows raised as he asked, “You can identify dragons?”
“Indeed. I've read several books about them. I daresay my knowledge of dragons is quite vast, and it's—”
A wide-eyed Cinderella interrupted her stepsister's boastful speech. “How do you two look so relaxed right now? How are you not panicking?” As she glanced around the garden, she saw very few guards, but most of them had drawn their swords. If the dragon swooped down, how could three guards hope to defend them?
“That dragon isn't a threat,” Sharman claimed. “It sits on that tower all the time. I think it uses the tower to rest its wings, and then it moves on.”
“What if today is the exception?” Cinda asked. “What if the dragon is hungry today and decides to make a meal of us?”
“It won't,” Sharman assured her. “This has been happening since I was a child... although, to be honest, this particular dragon has been causing trouble in the city lately.”
“What city?” Terra asked.
“Westerwood. It's the city closest to the Winter Palace,” as he answered the stepsister's question, Sharman lightly touched his treasured hair. As long as it felt nice, he assumed it looked nice.
“What has the dragon been doing in Westerwood?” Cinda asked.
Sharman's answer was inappropriately apathetic. “Eating people.”
“Eating people?” Cinderella shrieked so loudly, she was shushed by one of the nearby guards.
“Yes. And I agree with the knight. You need to be quiet, dear,” Sharman admonished her. “You don't want to attract the dragon's attention. In fact, don't make eye contact with it. You don't want to give it any ideas.”
“If the dragon is eating people in a nearby city, how are you not more concerned?” his fiance whispered.
“I am concerned. Don't make assumptions based on the tone of my voice, Cinderella. As a prince, it is my duty to look calm and collected. If I panic, my people will panic.” Sharman sat back and crossed his long legs. “Furthermore, it isn't just eating people. It also eats livestock. Goats. Horses. Cows... even the occasional cat, or so I've heard. It's definitely become a problem, and it's a problem I fully intend to resolve.”
“You know...” Terra suddenly changed the subject. “I bet Donnabella could break your sister's curse. It's a shame she's not on our side.”
“Indeed,” Sharman agreed. “It is a shame.”
“Donnabella seems very interested in your money, Your Highness,” Terra said. “Perhaps you
could pay her to break the curse?”
As Terra and Sharman talked, Cinda kept her eyes on the dragon. She couldn't believe her fiance and stepsister could focus on anything else.
“That is an... interesting idea,” Sharman said. “However, I absolutely despise witches. I can't imagine working with one.”
Cinderella's thoughts briefly drifted to her Fairy Godmother. After their escape from Donnabella's boot, they lost track of each other. She assumed Gloriosa was still stuck in Donnabella's urn.
Finally, after a five-minute rest, the Cedarwood Shrieker took flight. As she watched it flap away, Cinda heaved a lengthy sigh. Her tense muscles were relaxed by the dragon's departure.
“Share some of your knowledge of dragons, Terra,” Sharman suddenly requested. “I'd be interested to learn more about them. What's the most powerful dragon in the world?”
“Oh, that would be a Northern Black Drake, Your Highness!” Terra exclaimed. “It's the largest, strongest, most powerful dragon in the world. Its claws can rip through anything. Its scales are black and shiny, and they're nearly impossible to cut through. Its eyes are coal black. It even breathes black fire, and it can incinerate an entire house in a single breath.” As she was speaking, a fly landed on their scones, so she waved it away with a flick of her hand.
“That sounds fascinating... albeit terrifying, of course,” Sharman said. “And what's your favorite dragon?”
Terra's eyes lit up. “I didn't realize you were interested in dragons, Your Highness.”
“I am... a bit.” Sharman's tea had gotten too cold for his liking, so he dumped it on the grass.
“My favorite dragon...?” Terra tapped her chin as she considered her answer. “I think... it would probably be... a Silvertail Drakonas?”
“And why do you like the Silvertail Drakonas?” the prince asked.
“Because they have hair, Your Highness!” Terra replied with a giggle. “It's the only dragon with hair on its head. And it's usually long and flowing. In the portraits I've seen, it looks unbelievably silly. If I ever saw a Silvertail Drakonas, I'd probably laugh myself to death.”
Cinderella stopped listening to their conversation. Her attention was elsewhere. In the corner of her eye, she thought she spotted Fenix.
Fenix?
It was impossible, wasn't it?
“It's probably wishful thinking...” Cinda whispered to herself. “There's no way he'd be in the palace. Oh well.”
“Share some of your knowledge of dragons, Terra. I'd be interested to learn more about them. What's the most powerful dragon in the world?”
As Terra and Sharman chatted, Fenix sat in Cinderella's hair. With his many eyes, he studied the table. The scones looked delicious, and his stomach was empty. In fly form, he needed much less food to satiate his hunger.
“Oh, that would be a Northern Black Drake!” Terra exclaimed. “It's the largest, strongest, most powerful dragon in the world. Its claws can rip through anything.”
While Terra prattled about dragons, Fenix rubbed his wiry legs together. He hoped Cinda didn't feel him in her hair.
“Its scales are black and shiny, and they're nearly impossible to cut through. Its eyes are coal black. It even breathes black fire, and it can incinerate an entire house in a single breath.”
In the middle of Terra's speech, Fenix made his move. He swooped down and landed on one of the scones. He managed a few nibbles before Terra's enormous hand swept forward. Fenix zipped away as fast as he could, narrowly avoiding a collision with her fingers.
That was close, he thought, flying into a rose bush. Then he crawled behind a wall of hedges, where he reverted to human form. Fenix was wearing a stolen guards' uniform. Two days ago, Donnabella ordered him to free Rank, but it was more difficult than he expected. It took him two days to question his fellow guards and figure out what he needed.
Prince Sharman's skeleton key. Apparently, the magic key could unlock any door in the Winter Palace, including the prisoners' cells. Fenix assumed the elusive key would be in the prince's bedchamber, but first, he needed to find the prince's bedchamber. He shuffled to the end of the hedge and peeked around the corner, checking Sharman's location. When Cinda's eyes passed over him, he quickly jerked back his head.
“I hope she didn't see me,” Fenix whispered. It was safer to stay in fly or mouse form—or even bat form—but he needed to ask a question. As soon as the prince and his companions left the table, a maid rushed over to collect their dirty dishes. Fenix quietly approached and tapped her arm.
“Wot? Wot do you want?” the maid snapped as she whirled around to greet him. Upon seeing his handsome face, her voice softened considerably. “I mean... is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, actually, I do need help,” Fenix said. “Where might I find the prince's bedchamber? I need to deliver a package to his room.”
“A package?” the maid's nose wrinkled. “Sorry. I can't help you, love. I'm new. I've only worked here for two days.”
“Really? Me too.”
“I don't know anyone yet. I don't know any of the servants' names or nuffin.”
“Yeah. I don't know anyone either,” Fenix echoed the thought.
“Then we're in the same boat.” A grin crawled across the maid's plump lips as she fussed with the dishes. The porcelain clattered as she collected it. “You and I should get to know each other. We should get to know each other real well.”
“Uh... okay.” Fenix scratched his head. The maid was wasting his time, but he didn't want to be rude. “What did you have in mind?”
“Meet me in the stables when my shift's over. I get off work in two hours,” the maid said. “We can have a tumble in the hay. I like you. You're cute.”
Fenix could feel himself blushing. The maid's offer was flattering, but he wasn't interested. And even if he was interested, he couldn't take her up on it. His curse kept him faithful to Donnabella. “But... you don't even know my name.”
“I can get to know ya,” the maid said. “I'm Rebecca.”
“I'm... Douglas,” he gave himself a false name. “And, uh, I should really get going. I have to return to my post.”
“Hey!” the maid cried out as he charged away. “Does that mean you ain't interested? Douglas!”
Fenix decided to try a different tactic. When the maid wasn't watching, he shrunk down to mouse form and tried to relocate Sharman. Even as a mouse, his cheeks felt warm. Women frequently flirted with him, but they were rarely as forward as Rebecca.
Fenix skittered into the palace, where he found Sharman and Cinda standing in the hallway.
“You look beautiful, Cinderella,” the prince told her. As his fingers glided along her cheek, Cinda's face was stony. “I'm stating the obvious, though. You always look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. That's very kind of you,” Cinda said. “And you look very handsome as well.”
“I'm glad you think so.”
Fenix hid behind an ornamental suit of armor and spied on their conversation. His whiskered nose twitched as Sharman fiddled with his hair.
“I'm really glad you're here, you know,” Sharman went on. “My sister's curse has me terribly depressed. If not for you, I would be wallowing in misery. You brighten my days.”
“I'm glad you think so.”
“I mean it,” the prince reiterated as he reached for Cinda's hand. “You've become everything to me. You're my joy. You're my world. You're my reason to wake up in the morning.”
When Sharman kissed her, Fenix closed his tiny black eyes. “At least I got to kiss her once,” Fenix whispered to himself. His words were coming out as squeaks, but no one seemed to notice.
“I adore you,” Sharman whispered as his lips left hers. “I really do. We haven't known each other very long, but my feelings for you are so strong. You're all I think about.”
“That's very flattering, Your Highness.”
“Do you ever think about me?” Before she could answer, he quickly added,
“Oh, and you don't have to call me Your Highness, dear. You're the prince's fiance. You needn't be so formal.”
Cinda simply said, “Alright.” As Fenix studied her face, he thought she looked sad. Her downturned mouth certainly suggested low spirits.
“She might not be sad,” Fenix squeaked to himself, “but she's definitely not happy.”
When Sharman and Cinderella parted ways, Fenix followed the prince to his room. Sharman closed the door behind him, but there was space between the wood and the floor, so Fenix easily squeezed his way inside. Sharman sat at his desk, donned his spectacles, and tackled a stack of papers. Fenix had no idea how to search the room while Sharman was awake and alert, so he decided to return at night.
As soon as he left the prince's room, he saw Terra heading down the hall. When he was in mouse form, he could hear her crutches thumping much louder than usual. Fenix shuffled behind a statue and waited for her to pass.
“I might as well follow her,” Fenix squeaked. “I've got nothing better to do.”
As he pattered down the hall, Fenix was mindful of passersby. When he first sneaked into the palace in mouse form, he was spotted by one of the cooks, who tried to whack him with a broom. She couldn't have killed him, of course, but he tried to avoid pain when possible.
Terra tapped on Cinderella's door. As the girls greeted each other, Fenix slipped into Cinda's room. Every time he eavesdropped on a conversation, he felt a bit guilty, but his curiosity always hungered for more. He hid under Cinderella's bed and listened to their discussion.
“I was just wondering how you feel about Sharman,” Terra said. When she sat on Cinda's bed, Fenix could see the mattress sinking. When Cinda joined her, it sank even more. “I daresay... you don't look entirely happy with him.”
Below the bed, mouse Fenix was nodding in agreement.
“I don't know. I think I might be struggling to connect with him,” Cinderella confessed. “Is that bad? I should be happy, I know. I'm marrying the prince, after all.” As her face fell into a pillow, a sigh burst from Cinda's lips. “So many women would love to be in my shoes.”
