Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 3)

by Rosetta Bloom

  Ella dressed quickly and hurried down the stairs. “How do I look?” she asked.

  “Like a p’incess,” Faye said, wonder in her voice. “Come, let me fix your hair.” Ella went over and Faye worked deftly, lifting Ella’s hair into a stylish do, garnished with a crystal hair clip that matched the shoes.

  “It’s all so pretty,” Ella said.

  “Yes it is,” Faye said. “The slippers are glass. That’s what Heinrich told me.”

  Ella laughed. She couldn’t imagine Heinrich carrying on a conversation about fashion, much less glass slippers. But she couldn’t imagine Faye making up such a thing either, so it must be true.

  Faye started to walk toward the outside. “Hurry, Ella,” she said. “You haf to get ‘der. I promised Ash I’d get you ‘der.”

  Ella rushed after her and they headed to the front yard where there was a beautiful orange carriage with gold trim. It looked like a pumpkin, in shape, and the top of it had a vine-like winding. Four small horses were at the reigns, whinnying and neighing.

  “Quickly,” Faye said. “Into the pumpkin.”

  “Pumpkin?” Ella asked.

  “Oh, it’s what they call it at the castle. Just get in. Ash is waiting.”

  Ash. His face popped into her mind, his smiling trusting face. The words in his letter echoed through her head. “You fear her more than you love me.” She didn’t. She loved him more than anything. She had to see him.

  She rushed into the carriage and waited for Faye. A footman closed the door. Ella stuck her head out. “Aren’t you coming with me?” she asked. She had just assumed Faye would come too.

  “No, Ella,” she said. “You go on. I need to get home, but I can’t wait to hear about it tomorrow.”

  The carriage started to move and Ella turned and waved. “Thank you Faye,” she called out. “I appreciate this so much. I’ll tell you all tomorrow.”

  Chapter 32

  Ashton had joined his parents and watched the festivities begin. There were platitudes feting him and several nobles and dignitaries gave speeches in his honor. He sat there with a smile plastered on his face and feeling bored out of his skull. His only solace was searching the crowd for her face. Searching for the beautiful butterfly mask Gertrude had fashioned for her.

  He’d gotten his hopes up briefly earlier, as Heinrich came over and pointed out that a Lady Kenna and her daughters Bathilda and Marigold had been announced as arriving. He looked at the threesome hopefully, but saw no indication that Cinderella was with them. From afar, he’d watched the ladies, determining Lady Kenna to be decent looking for her age, and seemingly pleasant enough that he would never have guessed at her behavior. The large girl, whom he took to be Bathilda had no pleasing qualities that he could see, and the final girl, Marigold, seemed, as Cinderella had described her — too kind to be paired with the other two. But, he lost sight of them shortly thereafter, wanting only to see Cinderella appear among the faces of the crowd.

  He sat in the grand ballroom of the castle perched on a throne between his parents. The guests stood at attention or clapped in appropriate places. In the corner of the room, the orchestra sat, their instruments completely silenced as they suffered through this part of the celebration.

  She wasn’t here yet, and perhaps that was good. Would she be angry that he had not been entirely honest with her? Would she be mad if she arrived now to see that he was the prince, that Ashton was merely his middle name? He hoped she wouldn’t be too angry he hadn’t told her the truth. He had wanted to last night, but she left before he got the chance, so she couldn’t be angry. A flutter of nerves wrenched his gut as he saw his father stand to give the final speech of the evening. The music and dancing would begin when the King finished speaking.

  Ashton sighed, then turned his attention back to the platform where his uncle Harry, the Grand Duke, was finishing some type of toast. King Henry stood, walked over to his brother and patted him on the shoulder, and the younger man stepped aside. The King, who was holding a wine goblet in his hand, turned and smiled back at him, then addressed the crowd.

  “It is with great pleasure that I present my son, John Ashton, on the eve of his 20th birthday. He is kind, generous and wise, all qualities that will make him a good ruler when his time comes. I know you have all come for dance and merriment, so I shall keep my remarks short. In addition to coming of age at the end of the evening, my son will also be on the hunt for a bride tonight. He will mingle amongst all the people, no matter their station of birth, seeking one who shares his generosity, kindness and wisdom.” The King raised his goblet of wine and turned back to his son. “Happy Birthday, my son. May you succeed in your endeavors tonight and all future endeavors.”

  Ashton stood and smiled. He waved to the crowd as they applauded. He searched the hundreds of faces below for Cinderella, but still didn’t see her. He managed to hide his disappointment, his smile waning slightly, but staying mostly in place.

  “Is something the matter, dear?” his mother asked. He hadn’t noticed her rise and stand next to him.

  He shook his head, “No, mother. I’m fine.”

  Ashton sighed and took a few steps away from his mother, scanning the crowd, hoping he looked like he was trying to find a fetching lass. He spotted his cousin Chandler not far away, talking to a pretty girl. Ashton caught his cousin’s eye from afar and waved. Chandler scowled at him and turned away. He felt bad. Chandler was still angry about their chat, still believed Ash was a hypocrite who looked down upon him. He hadn’t wanted to create a rift between himself and Chandler. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see his cousin Leith.

  “You ready?” asked Leith, looking appropriately cheerful for the evening, and wearing a simple black mask over his eyes.

  Ashton nodded. “Not entirely,” he admitted. “But the moment is upon us, so whether I’m ready matters not.”

  Leith smiled jovially. “You’ll do fine,” he said. “Tis a great day for your kingdom, and I’m proud of you.” He looked out at the gathering crowd, then back at his cousin. “I just wanted to wish you luck before things get started. I’m going to go mingle.”

  Ashton nodded. “Thank you, then, Leith,” he said. “But, when you talk to Chandler, tell him I’d like to talk to him. I feel bad about the way things were when he and I last spoke.”

  Leith nodded knowingly, then patted his cousin. “I’ll tell him,” he said. “But Chandler probably just wants you to feel as if he’s angry. I don’t think he really is that irritated. It just hurt his pride a little. I’m sure he’ll come see you in the morning.”

  Ashton shrugged, as he watched Chandler from afar. Leith was probably right. “Perhaps,” he said.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Leith said. “And happy birthday.”

  Ashton half laughed. He’d almost forgotten the reason for the celebration. “Thank you, Leith.”

  With that, his cousin turned and wandered off. A few moments later, Heinrich came over. “Your Highness, the gentleman you asked me to find is here,” Heinrich said.

  Ashton nodded. Even if she didn’t come, he still wanted to do this for Cinderella. It seemed the right thing to do, even if she would never know. “Excuse me, mother,” Ashton said, and then followed Heinrich away from the platform on which the thrones rested and out a side door of the ballroom. He went through a hall and into a small room, where a tall, broad man with salt and pepper hair sat in a chair looking a bit nervous. It was unusual for royalty to call upon people they’d never met. And at such a ball. He was probably worried he’d done something wrong.

  Ashton smiled and extended his hand. “Lord Angleton,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The Lord bowed before rising and shaking Ashton’s hand. “It’s a great honor to meet you sire,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as his nerves shone through.

  “I apologize for summoning you here without explanation,” Ashton said. “It’s nothing bad.” At this, Lord Angleton seemed to ease slightly, his should
ers relaxing, his face loosening. Oddly enough, it had the effect of making the lord look more imposing. When he was more himself, more at ease, he had a certain power about him, which was probably why he did so well at the lumber business.

  “I was hoping to smooth things over in your marriage negotiations for Marigold,” the prince said.

  Angleton raised a brow. “Smooth things over?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It appears that Lady Kenna’s decision to wait until after my ball to finish the negotiations was misinterpreted. I think she merely was hoping to get my blessing at the ball to move forward. And I freely give it. Marigold is a lovely girl and I think she would make a lovely match for your son, even though I haven’t met the young man.”

  Lord Angleton swallowed hard and stared. “You know Marigold.”

  Ashton shrugged. “We have a mutual acquaintance, and I would feel horrible if my ball somehow hindered a union that was otherwise going smoothly, so I just wanted to take a moment of your time and let you know that I give this union the royal blessing and would be honored to attend the wedding.”

  Lord Angleton nodded and smiled. “Of course, your Highness, we would welcome you and your entire family at the union, and do not worry. Nothing about your ball has altered in any way my resolve to allow Marigold and Charles to marry.”

  Ashton smiled. He was genuinely happy that he could resolve this situation. Cinderella had seemed so bothered by the idea that Lady Kenna could hurt her own daughter through her machinations. Now, no matter what was said, Lord Angleton would ensure that Marigold and Charles married. Even if Cinderella was lost to him, driven away by fear, at least there was one girl in that household he could save. Save without her knowing it. At least without her knowing it until he appeared at her wedding. For now he would have to go. And part of him looked forward to it. Perhaps she would talk to him of Ella, and his heart would be eased. Or would it be pained to hear of her and know that his words had meant nothing to her? They had not swayed her to stay.

  “Sire?” Lord Angleton was saying

  Ashton had gotten lost in his thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he said. “My mind wandered for a moment. I do apologize.”

  “No, it’s quite understandable,” Lord Angleton said. “I was just apologizing for monopolizing your time when you probably wanted to be dancing with your guests. My two daughters are here, Anastasia and Delilah. Might you like to take a turn with either of them?”

  “Perhaps,” Ashton said, giving a vague look. “But, I must be off right now. Thank you again for your time.”

  With that Ashton turned and left. He returned to the ballroom to find people were milling about as the orchestra sat silent. But of course, he thought, no one would dance until the prince had taken the first dance. All eyes were on him as he entered the room and waded toward the platform where his parents sat. He would have to pick someone to dance with. Someone to start with, someone who wasn’t her. He swallowed as he resigned himself to this fact, and then he looked across the room and saw the doors open. She entered. A vision of blue with a shimmering gold after effect, swathed in the butterfly mask. Cinderella. He smiled and started toward her. She looked around the room and her eyes were only for him, because she spotted him almost immediately and headed straight toward him.

  They met in the middle of the room and Ashton could feel all eyes on them. “Would you like to dance?” he said, his voice loud enough to carry across the room.

  She smiled and curtsied. “I would be honored to dance with you.”

  He took her in his arms and the orchestra began to play. She felt warm and perfect. And she looked like an angel, though he couldn’t see her face. Earlier, he’d wondered if it had been a good idea to make this a masked ball. But as he felt all eyes on them, he imagined the reaction of Lady Kenna if her stepdaughter had simply waltzed in uncostumed, it confirmed his decision. He was wearing the same mask he’d worn the first night he met Cinderella.

  “I’m glad you came,” he whispered in her ear as he spun her around the dance floor.

  “I do love you more than I fear her,” she whispered back. “I am sorry I left you the way I did. I shouldn’t have.”

  “Shh,” he whispered. “I just want to hold you in my arms for a bit.”

  She nodded and they danced. Song after song, he held her and spun her and they swayed and sashayed to the lively ballroom music. He knew his duty called for him to dance with others, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to spend these moments with Cinderella. A time of peace and joy, before he told her all.

  As the music of a song died down, but before the orchestra could strike up another, Cinderella spoke. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  Ashton nodded, took her by the hand and led her out of the ballroom.

  Ella was glad that Ashton knew where he was going. He led them through a hallway and around a corner. They entered a large room that was well lit and had a giant thing in the middle of the room covered by a tarp. As they got closer to the thing, which was tall — at least 12 feet high — and rectangular, she realized what it was, what it had to be.

  “Is that the prince’s royal portrait?” she asked. “The one that will be revealed at midnight.”

  Ash nodded. She smiled. It was sweet of him to bring her here. To give her a peek at the handiwork of the royal artists. She was curious what it was like. Painting was different from drawing, but there were certain similarities in the artistry and she would admire it, for sure. But first they needed to talk. She saw a bench on the side of the room. She walked toward it, noticing it was made of white stone and had been intricately carved with cherubs and sprites. She sat, removing the butterfly mask, and setting it in next to her. Ash joined her, removing his mask as well.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, turning to look at him. She stared into his hazel eyes and tried to remember what she wanted to tell him. “I trust you, with everything that is in me. If you say you can protect me from Lady Kenna, then I believe you.”

  Speaking the words out loud felt freeing. She was glad she could trust him, glad that she did not feel so alone anymore. He leaned in and kissed her, smooth and silky, her mouth melting into his. She could feel the heat rising within her and pulled away. This was no place for that kind of thing. “I promised Marigold I would help her with Lord Angleton,” she said. “I should talk to him, and then, you and I can face Lady Kenna.”

  He shook his head. “I talked to him.”

  Ella leaned back, trying to still the confusion. “Talked to who?”

  “Lord Angleton,” he said.

  She was stunned. “But why?”

  “Because you told me so little of your life until last night, when you finally trusted me with all of your secrets, even if you didn’t trust me to help you with them. So, I decided, whether you came tonight or didn’t, I would help Marigold, because that meant something to you.”

  Ella hugged him. “Thank you, Ash,” she said. “I’m sorry I left you like that. You helped me even though I had gone. I love you so much.”

  He pulled away, startling her. “I love you, too,” he said, softly. “And I hope you still feel the same after I tell you what I wanted to tell you last night.”

  She’d almost forgotten. He had said he wanted to tell her something. But she’d put him off. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have listened.” She reached out and held his hand, giving it a squeeze. “It doesn’t matter what you tell me. It won’t change how I feel.”

  He squeezed her hand back and smiled. He stood and Ella followed suit, as he walked her over to the portrait. He released her hand and walked over to a cord hanging from the portrait.

  “What you wanted to tell me,” she said, trying to figure out why he was at the portrait. “It’s about the portrait of your cousin?”

  Ash shook his head. “It’s not about my cousin,” he said, reaching up and pulling the cord. The drape covering the portrait fell to the ground, and Ella looked up to see a giant portrait of Ash. Her eyes widened and she steppe
d back to take it all in. He was dressed in a royal blue uniform, with gold braid along the side and a crown on his head. He looked handsome and serious, more serious than he tended to look with her. The bottom of the portrait was labeled, Prince John Ashton, son of King Henry and Queen Elizabeth.

  Ella looked from the portrait to Ash, her brows knitted as she tried to digest what she was seeing. “You’re the prince?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t intend to lie to you,” he said. “But when I started doing the activity that brought us together, I asked Heinrich to tell the maidens they were being hired for a relation of the King. It seemed perfectly reasonable, given that my cousins Chandler and Leith often took a girl when they were visiting. Once you were under that impression, I rather liked that you treated me normally, and the longer it went on, the harder it became to figure out a way to tell you the truth. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  She bit her lip as she took in what he had said. He let her believe that he was the prince’s cousin. A powerful position for sure, but not as powerful as prince, someone who could command to marry any woman he pleased. Yet, he had tried to tell her last night. Only she had decided not to hear, to put him off so she could have her perfect evening. She should have been less selfish. She should have listened to him last night.

  She felt the tears wet her face and Ash rushed over to her, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he said.