Charm

by Sarah Pinborough

  ‘Oh, take those bloody shoes off, woman,’ the huntsman cut in. ‘We’ll never get any sense out of him until you do.’ Cinderella did as she was told and the prince’s face immediately fell, confused. He stared at her as if he was looking at a stranger.

  ‘What do you want?’ he asked. ‘What’s going on here?’

  ‘You tell us,’ the huntsman said, nodding at Cinderella to tie the prince’s hands behind his back. She rummaged in the wardrobe and found a grey silk necktie and used that, pulling the a tight knot around his wrists. Then she reached around his neck and undid the chain. The gold key hanging there shone brightly.

  ‘Got it,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘You can’t go into that room,’ the prince growled, his face darkening. ‘No one knows what’s in there. It’s mine. It’s private.’

  ‘Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,’ the huntsman said, grabbing the prince by his arm and holding him close, the knife pressed under his ribs. ‘And private it might be, but it doesn’t belong to you.’

  ‘You’ll take the Troll Road for this,’ the prince snarled. ‘You’ll—’

  Cinderella thrust a screwed-up flannel into his mouth turning his words into muted grunts.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said, and then smiled at the huntsman. ‘Shall we?’ She picked up the diamond slippers and crept to the door. She peered out. The corridor was empty.

  With the knife held firmly so close to his vital organs, the prince didn’t struggle but let the huntsman and Cinderella lead him. They crept past her apartments into the darker, quieter core of the castle and then started up the cool winding stairs. The moon was in hiding and the steps were simply ghosts in the darkness beneath her feet. Cinderella’s heart thumped in her chest. There was so much she didn’t understand. How did the huntsman and the prince know each other? How much did the huntsman know about what was hidden in the room, and why did the fairy godmother want it so badly? And she couldn’t help but wonder how to get herself out of a lifetime married to the odious man now snivelling behind his gag, snot running from his nose.

  All her wondering stopped as the huntsman froze just as they rounded last corner. He raised his hand and she stopped where she stood. Her scalp prickled as she stared into the black musty space. She didn’t need to ask him what was wrong. She could sense it herself. They weren’t alone up here. Beside her, the huntsman was tense, ready to spring into attack, and then, from deep within the gloom came the delicate tap of silver on stone.

  ‘I wondered when you’d get here.’

  ‘Rose?’ Cinderella said, incredulous as her step-sister came into view. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I followed your markings. I thought something strange was going on and you might need my help.’ She rested her cane against the wall and lit the small lamp in her hand. As she held it up, casting yellow light on the three figures in front of her, she raised an eyebrow. ‘I was right on the first count at least.’ She dropped into a slight curtsey. ‘Your highness.’ She looked at Cinderella. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  The prince was staring at her and his mewling grew louder and more indignant.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ Cinderella said. ‘He’s got something secret in that room. And we need it.’

  ‘Come on,’ the huntsman pushed the prince forward. ‘Let’s get this done, shall we?’

  Rose held the light up and Cinderella darted forward with the key.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this, little sister?’ Rose asked. ‘You’re going to be a royal princess. Sometimes you have to look the other way.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’ Cinderella shook her head. ‘And I’m not sure I’m going to be a royal princess either.’ Just saying the words aloud made her feel better, as if a weight had been pressing down on her, pushing her into the very foundations of the castle, and she’d suddenly been freed.

  ‘Oh, Cinders,’ Rose said. ‘You do like to make life difficult. Go on, then. Unlock the door.’

  And Cinderella did.

  12

  ‘There has to be a wedding . . .’

  For a moment Cinderella couldn’t breathe. She had expected the room to be as dusty and dirty as the rest of this part of the castle, but instead everything shone. The polished floor was inlaid with mosaics of dragons dancing in the summer sky. Overhead a chandelier glittered brightly, rubies and emeralds and diamonds sparkling with the light within. Heavy red velvet drapes hung over the windows and in the corner a table was laden with bottles of wine and a silver goblet. A chaise-longue of gold and blue was on the far side of the room, matching cushions at its head and feet as if someone spent a lot of time on it and wanted to be comfortable.

  But it was the centrepiece she couldn’t tear her eyes from.

  ‘I had no idea what to expect,’ Rose said, softly. ‘But it wasn’t that.’

  The glass coffin sat on a raised dais in the middle of the room. Inside it, a beautiful dark-haired girl in a pink dress lay perfectly still. Her cheeks had a dusky rose tint and her lips were cherry red. Cinderella peered in. The girl had the most extraordinary violet eyes. They stared, empty of expression, at the ceiling.

  ‘Snow White,’ the huntsman said. ‘I knew it.’

  Cinderella looked at him. ‘You know her?’

  ‘We . . . we’ve met.’

  ‘Met?’ There was something in his voice that sent a flare of jealousy through her. ‘What do you mean, met?’

  ‘Her step-mother too as it happens.’ He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling and she realised he was enjoying her reaction. ‘I was feeling lucky to be alive. And they were hard to resist.’ He winked at her and she almost growled again, but swallowed it down. He was still infuriating. Was that all their moment had been? Another notch nearly carved on his bedstead?

  ‘You slept with her?’ The prince spat his gag out and glared. ‘You?’ He looked from the huntsman to Cinderella and back again. ‘And her?’

  ‘Not yet. I’m working on it.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ Cinderella muttered. The girl in the casket was truly beautiful. She almost looked as if she was just sleeping, but that couldn’t be possible.

  ‘If perhaps we could worry less about who’s been sleeping with whom, and focus on what’s going on here, I think we might make more progress towards a solution.’ Rose said, pouring herself a glass of wine. ‘I take it this is something to do with how you managed to get to those Bride Balls in dresses you certainly couldn’t afford.’

  ‘I made this stupid deal . . .’ Cinderella started. ‘I’m so sorry, she gave me these slippers . . .’

  ‘There’s this queen,’ the huntsman said, over Cinderella, ‘and after he abandoned me she wanted me to kill this girl and I didn’t so she cursed me but now . . .’

  ‘I can explain’ the prince joined in.

  ‘Okay, enough!’ Rose held her hand up and Cinderella fell silent. She was surprised to see that the huntsman did too. Rose had always been good at being in charge. ‘I don’t want to get lost in the details. I’m not sure I even want to hear the details.’ She looked at the prince.

  ‘Is she dead?’

  ‘No,’ he shook his head like a berated child, and Cinderella wondered how she could have ever thought he would be the one for her. He was charming and handsome, but so weak. She looked at the girl in the box. And clearly damaged.

  ‘She’s just enchanted.’

  ‘Just,’ the huntsman muttered.

  ‘And I take it the king doesn’t know she’s here?’ Rose continued. The prince shook his head.

  ‘He wouldn’t understand. I don’t do anything. I just like to talk to her,’ he said, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world. ‘She’s so perfect like this. She listens.’ He looked at Rose as if she of all of them would understand. ‘I wasn’t hurting anyone. Not until he came back.’ He glared at the huntsman. ‘I’ll have you arrested for this. The Troll Road is too good for you. I’ll hang you from the castle walls to rot!’ His face had twisted
into a sneer and his eyes were cold and ugly.

  ‘And I in turn,’ the huntsman leaned casually against the wall, ‘will tell your father and anyone who’ll listen exactly what happened with that other beauty of yours.’

  The prince’s eyes widened. Cinderella wished she knew what they were talking about. What other beauty? A different girl to the one trapped in the glass box? She stared at her again. Who was this Snow White? She frowned as a glint of gold caught her eye.

  ‘She’s wearing a wedding ring,’ she said, staring at the frozen girl’s left hand. ‘She’s married.’ The truth hit her like a blast of the winter wind and she turned to the prince, her mouth half-open. ‘She’s your wife?’

  ‘But that can’t be right,’ the huntsman said. ‘No priest would marry a girl in this condition. No matter who wanted . . .’ his sentence drifted away. ‘You bastard,’ he said, eventually. ‘I knew you were spoilt and pathetic, but this?’ His words contained the growl of every predator in the forest, and as he stepped forward the prince cowered backwards, seeking protection from Rose. ‘You married her and then did this to her?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ the prince said, although from the tone of his voice Cinderella was pretty sure it was something close. ‘I just . . . she was just . . .’ his shoulders slumped and whatever energy he had for the fight left him in a heavy sigh. ‘I just don’t understand beautiful women. They’re so much . . .’ he glanced at the glass coffin and then at Cinderella. ‘Trouble.’

  ‘I think this cancels our engagement,’ Cinderella said.

  ‘But there has to be a wedding! My father will insist on it. All the preparations have been made! I can’t tell him about this. I can’t . . .’

  ‘No one’s going to tell him about this.’ Rose laid a gentle hand on the prince’s arm. ‘But nor can this continue. It’s time to let the past go.’ She looked at the huntsman. ‘You have someone waiting for this girl?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll go with him,’ Cinderella blurted out. ‘I don’t want to live here. And I want to see this queen who’s messed with us all so much. And . . .’ she closed her mouth. And what? What had she been about to say? And she couldn’t imagine never seeing the huntsman again? She could feel him looking at her and her face burned.

  ‘But there has to be a wedding,’ the prince muttered. ‘There has to be.’

  ‘And there will be,’ Rose said. ‘You’ll marry me. I’ll smooth all this over and the kingdom will carry on happily.’

  ‘Marry you?’ He frowned slightly.

  ‘I’ll be a good queen,’ she said firmly. ‘I can guide you through the parts of ruling that you’ll find dull. And I won’t care when you take mistresses so long as you treat me with the respect a queen deserves.’ She held his face until his eyes focused on her. ‘It could be a good partnership.’

  Slowly, the prince nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Cinderella looked at Rose, even though she could feel the rightness of the match in her stomach. Things were as they would have been if she hadn’t turned up with her enchanted slippers and wrecked it all.

  ‘Certain,’ her step-sister – her sister – said. ‘I’ll explain to mother and father. But you’d better stay in touch. Come and visit when things have calmed down.’ She clapped her hands together and smiled. ‘Now, we’d better organise you two a cart of some kind. You’ll want to be gone before everyone wakes up. And you’ll need to dress down.’ She lifted her chin and as she walked away, leaning so carefully on her cane, Cinderella thought Rose looked every inch the queen already. Cinderella rummaged in the pockets of her dress and pulled out the final nut the fairy godmother had given her. Escape, that’s what she’d said, and Cinderella knew this was exactly the moment she had meant.

  13

  ‘Of course it’s love . . .’

  Rose was ruthlessly efficient and, by her side, the prince did exactly what he was told. Horses were saddled and a donkey brought out of the stables and attached to the cart.

  ‘He looks old and tired,’ the prince muttered. ‘But he’ll walk steadily and for as long as you need him to.’ He looked at the girl in the glass coffin on the back of the cart. ‘If she wakes up, she’ll know who he belongs to.’ He didn’t look at Cinderella as she flung a small bag of possessions alongside it, and she didn’t care. She had nothing to say to him. Neither did the huntsman, or so it seemed. He looked pained. ‘Hurry up,’ he told her. ‘I haven’t . . . we haven’t got a lot of time.’

  She nodded. Rose came alongside her and pushed a small bag in her hand. It was heavy with coins.

  ‘I can’t take that,’ Cinderella protested. ‘Not after everything. I’m so sorry. You were right. I was spoilt. Stupid.’

  Rose pulled her in tight and hugged her. ‘No. Everything is as it should be. And all will be well.’ She stroked Cinderella’s face and smiled. ‘You’ll see. Now go before I get too emotional.’

  The moon broke through the heavy clouds as they slipped away but when Cinderella looked back Rose was still standing by the gates. She raised her hand, and Cinderella did the same, just before cracking the nut and letting the dust settle over her and the huntsman. She breathed in, and her fine court gown turned into a dusty green dress. It was the colour of the forest and she loved it. Once her sister was out of sight, she kept her head down. This city held nothing for her anymore.

  They travelled in relative silence until they reached the edge of the sleeping city and the border of the snowy forest, disappearing under its canopy and being embraced by the trees. The huntsman led them to a track and gave her his jacket to keep warm. Slowly dawn was edging into the sky, bringing a strange light with it that found gaps in the branches and cut strange shapes around them. Cinderella noticed that the huntsman was pale and trembling. Was it his injuries? Or was he about to transform back into the tiny mouse? She touched his arm. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  He nodded, but his face was drawn and his eyes were filled with sadness. ‘You might have to finish this journey alone,’ he said, and glanced up at the sky, his handsome face furrowing.

  ‘Well, only until tonight,’ Cinderella said. ‘I’ll keep you warm until you become a man again.’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t think it will be that way this time. The deal changed.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Cinderella stared at him. He had to be joking. ‘She can’t do that.’

  ‘Have you got the slippers? She’ll want them back.’

  ‘Yes,’ Cinderella was still staring at him. ‘They’re in my bag.’ She thought of all the times they’d laughed in the doorway by the kitchen. She thought of how he’d saved her from the prince. She thought— suddenly a whole new thought struck her. The slippers.

  ‘Why didn’t the slippers work on you?’ she said. ‘When you came in the prince’s room? They didn’t affect you at all.’

  He smiled, creases forming around his eyes, and he looked at her. His dark hair hung over one eye, but she could still see all the kindness and strength and warmth that lay beneath his humour and roughness. ‘They didn’t work on me because I dreamt of you before we met,’ he said simply. ‘And there’s no magic stronger than that.’ He looked away and moved his horse forward.

  ‘You love me?’ she said. The cold was forgotten. Her head was in a whirl. Love? Is that what this was? All this irritation? All this infuriating anger?

  You’re on a dirt track in the freezing forest at dawn. You’ve left your family behind without a second thought.

  Of course it’s love.

  ‘Wait,’ she called after him, jumping down from her horse, her heart racing with joy. He turned and looked at her. His trembling was getting worse. He was changing and she couldn’t allow that to happen, not without letting him know. She ran to him and he slid from his saddle, his legs almost buckling under him as he stood.

  ‘Don’t watch this,’ he said. He gasped and bent over a little. ‘Please.’

  Cinderella
took his face in her hands. Her whole body tingled just from touching him.

  ‘I love you too,’ she whispered. And then she kissed him.

  She wasn’t sure if it was just inside her head, but she was sure that as he held her, the stars danced around their heads and lights twinkled in a whirlwind of fireflies that warmed their hands. She was lost in the moment and so was he.

  ‘The curse,’ he said, pulling back slightly. ‘You broke the curse.’

  ‘I don’t care what I did,’ Cinderella murmured. ‘Just kiss me again.’

  His lips met hers and as their tongues danced together, their bodies wound around each other’s, he pulled her down to the forest floor. For a moment, caught up by the magic of true love, the forest created a space of warmth for them. The ice evaporated and the earth welcomed them. Cinderella ran her fingers through his dark hair and this time there were no comparisons with the prince’s blond good looks. They were sterile. This man was all passion and nature. Panting as his hands pulled at her clothes, she reached between them and tugged at his belt. This time he didn’t stop her, pushing her dress upwards and groaning slightly as her hand found him. Cinderella thrust her hips up to him, aching to finally feel him inside her, already warm and wet and wanting. There would be time for exploring each other later. There would be time for everything later. For now there was only urgency, all of the delayed need between them. He pushed inside her and she gasped, wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him in further as he moved, one hand touching the roughness of his face and the other sliding down between them and touching herself. She didn’t care about princes and shoes or fairy godmothers and curses. This was all the magic they needed.

  When they were done they lay there for a while, talking quietly and laughing and kissing until need overwhelmed them again, but this time it was slow and controlled and their mouths went where their hands had been before and when the gentleness was done and she was sure they were both going to explode from it, they took each other again.