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

by Rosetta Bloom

  “Pathetic,” Leith sniffed, as he shook his head. “The only thing I want is power, and whatever you say here will disappear the moment I release her.”

  “Fine,” Ashton said. “I can offer you something that won’t disappear.”

  Leith cocked his head and motioned his sword outward a few inches to indicate Ashton should go on.

  “You wanted to know how I found Cinderella. You wondered what secret it was I had. Well, that is what I can offer you: power. Power in a form that even you can’t ignore. I offer you magic.”

  Ella stared, not quite sure that she believed her ears. Leith’s cackle indicated a similar disbelief. “Magic,” Leith asked. “Have you gone mad?”

  “No,” Ashton said, shaking his head. “No, I can assure you I have not gone mad. I can assure you that I have been able to tap into power. It’s the kind of power that can find people who are lost, a kind of power that can get rid of those who you want gone, a kind of power that can bring you all you ever dreamed or hoped for. I swear to you, I have tapped into this power and I can give it to you. My mother was not insane when she spoke of fairies. I know of what she speaks, and I have access to that power. I have the secret to it here in my pocket. It was given to me by a fairy.” Ashton reached in his pocket and pulled out a bag he kept with him most days. It simply had nuts in it, in case he got hungry, but he held it out with reverence, as if it contained a great miracle. “See,” he said, as he held out the packet for his cousin to see. “Just reach out and take it and the magic is yours. Right Ella?”

  Ash looked at her, trying to will her to understand. “Just take it,” he said to Leith, edging closer, as his cousin stared intently at the bag. He could see Leith’s grip on the sword slackening, as he stepped closer. He took another step, and caught Ella’s eye. She seemed to understand that Leith’s consideration had left him vulnerable. Ella elbowed him in the stomach and darted forward.

  As Ella shot away from Leith, Ashton lunged for his cousin, staying low and tackling him at the waist. Leith dropped his sword, which made a dull clatter, as the two men fell to the ground.

  Despite being startled by the attack, Leith recovered his wits quickly. Leith punched his cousin in the gut and began grappling with him on the ground, trying to get the upper hand. He punched quickly and with oomph. Ashton was certain he’d never experienced such punishing blows before, but grunted through the pain, trying mostly to keep Leith away from Ella. Ash hit back, but his punches were wilder. He’d been trained in swordsmanship, but for some reason it wasn’t expected that the prince would be involved in a brawl. Now he wished he’d been taught more about hand-to-hand combat.

  Ashton knew that his blows weren’t exacting the fierce pain required, and he couldn’t take much more of being pummeled by Leith’s cruel fists, which seemed to know exactly which spots would inflict the most harm. They were rolling around on the floor in what felt an uneven manner. By the time Ashton realized that Leith had rolled them toward his sword it was too late. Leith had given up punching to reach for the sword, so Ashton leveled a punch at his cousin’s face, which knocked him off kilter, giving Ashton his own chance to reach for the sword.

  He got to his knees, crawled toward his sword, and had his hand on the hilt when Leith slammed into him, landing a crushing fist to Ashton’s chest. Leith had knocked his cousin down again, this time on his back. Leith climbed on top of Ash and wrapped his fingers around the prince’s throat. “I don’t need a sword to finish you,” he said. “I’ll watch the life slowly drain from your face and stick a sword into you later.”

  Ashton felt his airways constrict immediately. He tried to breathe through his nose, but that didn’t seem to be helping. The fingers wrapped around his neck were cutting off all his oxygen. He reached up, grabbing his cousin’s arms, trying to pull the vice-like hands from his throat so that he could get more oxygen, even for a second.

  “Don’t fight cousin,” Leith said, “I have seen this look in a man’s eye, even a woman’s eye, before. It won’t be long n—”

  The words cut off in a strangled murmur, and Ashton could finally breathe again. Leith’s eyes had gone wide and he’d let go of Ashton’s neck. Leith was reaching around to his own back, when he toppled over sideways, making a gurgling sound.

  Ashton saw the hilt of his dagger sticking out of Leith’s back. The very same dagger he’d used to cut the ropes binding Cinderella. He’d tossed it on the bed when he finished. Cinderella was standing over Leith, a smattering of blood on her hands, probably from when she’d thrust the dagger into Leith.

  She knelt down, leaning over Ashton. “Are you alright?”

  He nodded, his throat too raw to speak. Instead, he embraced her, folding her into his arms, and she wrapped herself around him, too. He never wanted to let her go.

  Chapter 39

  Leith died in Ella’s tower. In a twist of fate or irony, he’d died on top of the loose board, the one Lady Kenna had pried up to take her stepdaughter’s hard-earned money. It was Lady Kenna’s theft of her earnings beneath that board that had started Ella’s journey. Perhaps it was fitting that Lady Kenna’s efforts to destroy Ella, even falling in with Leith, would end here as well.

  When Ella and Ash arrived downstairs, they found Lady Kenna lying in a stupor on the floor. Leith had hit her on the head with something, as there was a large knot on the right side of Lady Kenna’s skull, and her eyes remained unfocused no matter what was said to her. They went outside and waited. Within the hour, Heinrich returned with a few members of the royal guard. Ashton quietly explained what happened. They both agreed the greater public couldn’t know. It was decided that they would say Leith died in a riding accident, and Lady Kenna simply fell and hit her head. There was no need to tarnish the reputation of either family by parading the truth among the kingdom’s citizens. Leith had paid for his crime with his life; there was no reason to ruin his family’s memory of him too.

  Ella and the prince rode back to the castle, accompanied by the guards. They remained committed to their ruse, so the story was spread that the girl who owned the slipper had been found. Her name was Cinderella.

  In three weeks, John Ashton and Cinderella married, before the eyes of the Queen and King and all their royal subjects. Faye was Cinderella’s maid of honor, and later took a job at the castle under Gertrude’s tutelage.

  While Lady Kenna had survived the injury, it left her permanently docile and stupid, according to those who saw her afterwards. As a result, Bathilda and Lady Kenna were moved further out in the kingdom, where Bathilda lived to a ripe age caring for her addled mother.

  As promised, Marigold married Charles Angleton, with the prince and his new princess watching as honored guests. And all who should have lived happily ever after did.

  Epilogue

  Cinderella was putting the children to bed. Young Princess Beatrice and Prince Edward were clamoring for her to tell them the tale of how their parents had met.

  “It’s too late,” Cinderella said, hoping to sound firm.

  “Please, mother,” said Beatrice, in that sweet affectation of gentility and desire that only young children can master fully.

  Cinderella smiled. “Oh, fine, but you’ve heard the tale so many times before.”

  “I know mother,” said Edward. “But it’s so exciting. I want to hear about how you met. How father was exploring when he came upon you at the Crystal Pond. And then how you charmed him with your book of drawings.”

  “And I want to hear the part about how Faye Ray godmother brought you the magic dress and the fairy slippers so that you could go to the masquerade ball,” said Beatrice.

  “Well she wasn’t your godmother at the time,” Cinderella interjected with a laugh. “You guys weren’t even born yet, so she wasn’t anyone’s godmother.”

  “But she still knew fairy magic, right? You can’t be named Faye Ray and be as nice as her and not be a fairy,” said Edward.

  “Well, actually you can,” Cinderella corrected with a
laugh “Your godmother is not a fairy, but your father knows a very special fairy, one who sometimes roams this castle. But she doesn’t like to tell people she’s a fairy.”

  Beatrice spoke. “Mother, I want to hear about how you ran off, leaving just your shoe and father sent the whole kingdom looking for you.”

  “Don’t forget the carriage made out of a giant pumpkin and the magical mice,” Edward ordered.

  Cinderella stared at the children, wondering if it was worth correcting the story they’d misremembered and made up to create some newish, grander version. She could never tell them the whole truth of how Cinders and Ash met, so perhaps it was best that they enjoyed their own little tale. “Sounds like you guys know this story best,” Cinderella said. “Perhaps I should have you two tell it to me as a bedtime story.”

  Cinderella giggled at her little joke, but Edward and Beatrice looked mightily offended at her suggestion.

  “Please mother,” whined Edward. “You tell the story the best. So much better than we ever could.”

  Ah, his father had taught him well. Flattery is always a good place to start. She cleared her throat and looked at the children as sternly as she could muster. “It’s already very late,” she started. “But since you’ve asked so kindly, I shall tell you the very quick version.”

  “Hooray,” they said in unison. Edward stood on his bed, but Cinderella frowned and he sat back down, and pulled his blankets on. Once the children had settled in quietly, with looks of anticipation on their little faces, she pulled up a chair, so it was in between both their beds.

  “Once upon a time,” Cinderella began.

  ***Thank you for taking time to read Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated. Thank you.

  Turn the page if you’d like to read the first chapter of Beauty & Her Beastly Love.***

  Sneak Peek — Dream Trysts: A Sleeping Beauty Story

  Prologue

  Maurelle and Blissa lay huddled, frightened, and silent in the closet. Maurelle’s mother, Radella, had ushered the children into the room and told them not to make a sound. They were to close their eyes, not speak, not talk, not move. “Remain hidden and you will be safe,” she had assured them.

  “But shouldn’t I go back to the castle, Auntie?” Blissa had protested.

  Radella had shaken her head and said in a harsh whisper, “Child, that is the last place you should go. It is you they are seeking. Hide here and they will not suspect you are here. I am sworn to protect you. I will protect you. I am leaving my own daughter here with you, so you must believe me when I tell you it is safe.”

  Blissa had nodded and then plopped onto the floor of the small closet. She and Maurelle wrapped their tiny arms around each other and slid into the corner. Radella draped a blanket over them and shut the closet door.

  The girls were obedient. They said nothing. When the man came in and screamed at Radella, they remained silent. His voice was strong, yet dark, reverberating coldly through the room. Just hearing it made Blissa shiver. She stayed still, but the man’s voice filled her insides with fear.

  “Radella,” the man said. “You cannot escape this. You are bound to help me. You remember the promise you made me.”

  Radella cleared her throat. “Errol,” she said. “I am sworn to protect the princess, and I cannot help you murder her and her entire family.” Blissa clenched her cousin tighter, as what her aunt had said sunk in.

  “Then know you will only be helping me murder the king,” Errol said. “My men need your power. You and the fairies you command will lay with my men. You have sworn an oath to do my bidding.”

  “That was before,” Radella spat. “Before I knew what you intended.”

  “It matters not,” Errol said. “What matters now is that you comply. We cannot fight fairies and win if we simply have the strength of men. We need the strength that fairies imbue to men after the joys of carnal relations. You will do this.”

  “I will not help you,” she said.

  “You will. You know the consequences. Your line will be cursed if you break your oath.”

  Radella made no verbal reply, and Blissa wondered what was going on. The room had gone deathly silent. Even the blowhard, Errol, was hushed. Blissa wondered if Radella had agreed to betray her father. Had she left to strengthen the human men?

  Then Radella said, “I know of my oath to you, and I know of my duty to the king and to my only daughter. I will have to beg her forgiveness in another life.”

  Blissa didn’t know what that meant. The words made no sense.

  A moment later, Errol spat, “You evil wench!” He called urgently, “Greywin, Greywin, hurry and bring the men.”

  Footsteps, loud and thunderous, filled the air. Murmurs, gasps and hushed voices followed. “Quickly,” Blissa heard Errol shout over the din. “She’s slit her own throat to thwart me.”

  Maurelle made a muffled sob next to Blissa, but stayed completely still. It was dark in this tiny closet, and despite their directive not to move, Blissa’s tiny arms pulled Maurelle closer and she sent out a wave of warmth and love to calm her cousin. Maurelle nestled deeper into Blissa’s arms, soothed for now by Blissa’s magic, the one she was named for: offering bliss.

  “Quickly, men,” Errol said. “Daub your fingers in her blood whilst it’s still warm. Take it into your mouth, and it will give you strength. Enough strength to conquer this fairy kingdom.”

  There were more footsteps and cheers followed by the sounds of swords leaving their scabbards, and then softer, less pronounced noises. Even without seeing, Blissa knew they were dragging Radella’s body to the center of the room, slicing into it for more of her blood.

  Errol, the king from the world of men, seemed to know something of fairies. But not enough. He knew intimacy with fairies would strengthen mortal men. He also knew that the blood of a fairy was powerful to men. Unfortunately, he only knew half-truths. And Blissa supposed Radella had known that. She must have sacrificed herself knowing Errol only knew part of the story.

  The blood of a fairy given freely would give mortal men strength. But the blood of a fairy taken without consent, taken with malice and force, was cursed. And surely Radella had not consented to this. She had done this to make them drink it. She knew the king of men would defile her corpse. Drinking of Radella’s blood would make them feel strong only for a short period of time. Perhaps a half an hour. At least, that is what the tutors had taught Blissa. She was heir to the throne, and protector of the kingdom. She had to know these things about fairies and men. So she knew that these evil men who drank of her aunt as if they were vampires would gain only temporary strength. And when their super strength did wear away, it would not go alone. It would sap them of their normal strength, too. They would be only half the men they once were.

  The din from the other room slowly waned and finally stopped after several minutes. The men cheered, and Errol called them to march onward toward the fairy castle. “Slaughter them all,” he said. “The entire royal family must be murdered, if we are to truly claim victory. We will claim victory for our kingdom, for my son, for all of our sons.”

  Chapter 1

  (Twenty years later)

  Blissa sat on the throne, her right hand holding Edmund’s as their babe, Briar Rose, lay before them in her bassinet. She was the most beautiful baby Blissa had ever seen, and that wasn’t just the hubris of a mother’s love. Rose was a little round cherub with blue eyes, rosy cheeks and wispy blond hair.

  Queen Blissa looked out at the rows of citizens who had come to the grand hall of the castle for Rose’s naming ceremony. It was a tradition both in the human and the fairy world that involved the reading of the baby’s name, followed by gifts from each side of her family. Dignitaries from the far reaches of the human kingdom came and lavished gifts on Briar Rose. And even though Blissa had abdicated her throne in the fairy realm, numerous f
airies had come to welcome her daughter. Had the ceremony been held in the fairy realm, it would have been called a Nomorray and it would have been just as merry. While Blissa was so happy to see so many familiar fairy faces, there was one soul she knew would not attend — a soul whose absence she felt in the deepest recesses of her heart. She managed to set aside that sorrow and take joy in seeing so many of her beloved friends and acquaintances from childhood.

  Several fairies had bestowed their gifts on Briar Rose already — a way with flowers, a kinship with birds, and the ability to listen to the wind when it spoke. While Edmund would think they were simple gifts that fairies bestowed upon each other, the way humans might bestow blankets or teacups, Blissa knew they were more useful than that. They were gifts that would help keep Briar Rose humble and wise. Gifts that would connect her to the earth the fairy realm was vested in protecting.

  She smiled as her friend Dwennon and his wife Hilaria approached the bassinet. Hilly, as the wife was known to most, smiled down and was about to bestow her gift when Dwennon said, “Oh, let me go first.”

  The old soothsayer bent down and said, “I bestow upon you the gift of dream sight.” He gently touched the infant’s forehead and Blissa smiled. When Blissa was just a babe, Dwennon had blessed her, too, with the gift of dream sight. It was a special gift that could only be given by a fairy whose gift was foresight. Dream sight allowed a person to communicate with others through dreams.

  The gifts that were being bestowed upon Briar Rose were more ethereal, ones that didn’t require you to manipulate the world around you.