Disenchanted: The Trials of Cinderella

by Megan Morrison

  Jasper was quiet for such a long moment that if Serge hadn’t felt his apprentice’s sleeve against his own, he would not have been certain that he was still there.

  “I’d love it,” said Jasper finally. Serge thought he heard a sniffle.

  Together, they flew into Cardinal Park, toward the fairywood at its center.

  SHARLYN was so thrilled with Ella’s “show of maturity” that she told her almost everything she wanted to know about the inner workings of Practical Elegance. Ella walked away from the conversation with a head full of ideas and a pile of disorganized notes. She brought these with her to business class the next day, where she plunked them down on the slate in front of Dash. She heard her classmates’ scattered whispers about treason, saw them look pointedly at her fine new satchel and fashionable boots from Serge. She ignored them as best she could and took her seat.

  Dash gazed at her papers in obvious surprise. “What’s this?”

  “Stuff my stepmum told me. About Practical Elegance.”

  “You mean you want to do the garment business after all?” He glanced at the table in front of them, where Loom was putting down his bag, and he lowered his voice. “You believe I’m not spying on you?”

  Ella shrugged a little. “I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “Well, I can’t know, can I.”

  The prince did not look satisfied, but Professor Linsey-Woolsey spoke from the front of the room, cutting their conversation short. “Today and tomorrow, we will spend our time in the library,” said the professor. “Use the time to do research that will enhance your business plans. For example, you might strengthen your advertising strategies by looking in the Criers for strong campaigns. Take your things with you, please, and let’s make our way.”

  Coterie’s library was a tall brick building covered all over in ivy except for the shining panes of its windows. Of all the places at C-Prep, Ella liked it best. It was cool inside, and quiet, and it never closed — she couldn’t count the number of times she had escaped her old dorm room and come here for some peace.

  Most of their classmates headed toward the periodicals to flip through old Criers, but Ella made right for the stairs.

  “Where are we going?” asked Dash, climbing behind her.

  “Philosophy,” Ella replied. “Maybe we can find something on business ethics.” She stopped on the third floor and chose a table near the windows, looking out over the gleaming athletic fields, where the younger students were out playing games. “This all right?” she asked.

  The prince nodded and set down his things as two royal guards took up positions just ten feet behind him, where they stood motionless. Watching. One of them was the same man who had bullied Tallith Poplin in the kitchen of the Corkscrew, and who had accused Ella of helping the queen. The guard narrowed his eyes at her now, something like a smirk playing at a corner of his lips. Her skin prickled, and she looked away.

  The prince took his seat without seeming to notice the guards’ presence. But then, he was probably used to being followed and stared at.

  “Shouldn’t we look for books?” Ella asked.

  “May I read your notes first?”

  She sat across from him and handed over her notes from the meeting with Sharlyn. “There’s a list of products there,” she said. “And a schedule showing how many of each item gets produced, and when they’re released.”

  Dash sank into reading. He paged through her writing, making notations from time to time in his beautiful, princely script. At one point, he frowned. “What does this say?” he said, tapping his pen beside a cluster of words that Ella had written very quickly, and very poorly.

  She blushed. “See separate list for metalworking supplies,” she muttered. “Sorry. My old teacher down in Eel Grass didn’t have us practice our handwriting much.”

  The prince glanced up from his reading. “Is Eel Grass anywhere near Barnacle Cove?”

  “You know Barnacle Cove?”

  “My mother was born and raised there.”

  “Oh, right! Yeah, BC’s just south of home. Fun place. Twice as big as my village, and lots more young people. I used to go to dances in the village hall with my friend Kit.”

  Dash looked interested. “What were those like?”

  “Imagine the opposite of the royal ball, and you’ve got it.”

  “Is it really so different?”

  “It’s another world,” said Ella honestly. “Decorations are ribbons and lanterns. There’re no gowns or fancy dancing either. People just put their arms round each other for the slow ones.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “It is.”

  He considered her. “And you’d really rather live there than here? Down south, I mean?”

  “Well … it’s home. This is your home, so it makes sense you’d rather live here than anywhere else, hey?”

  The prince didn’t reply right away. He looked out of the window, down at the young students who were now mounting their horses.

  “Six months ago, I wouldn’t have said that,” he replied eventually. “I was so tired of …” He stopped. “I was just tired,” he amended, but Ella got the feeling there was much more to it. “I needed time away,” he continued. “I went down to Orange to attend the University for a while.”

  “You’ve studied at the University of Orange!” Ella leaned forward. “That’s where I want to go — tell me what it’s like.”

  “I don’t know if I can really describe it,” he said, but it was obvious he was glad to be asked; he spoke with some eagerness. “Orange is a nation of learning. Enlightenment. The royal family lives at the main University, in the center of it all. I stayed with them, and it was — just very different. From home.”

  His expression turned pensive. He looked out across the campus, toward the city beyond.

  “I thought you went to the Redlands,” Ella ventured. “Because of … well. The witch.”

  He shook his head. “I traveled to the Redlands from Orange about three months ago,” he said, “after I attended a special lecture on witches by Nexus Keene. His ideas gave me ideas, and I —” He stopped, shook himself slightly, and turned his green eyes on her. The full force of them was disorienting; Ella forgot, for just a moment, where she was.

  “I haven’t shared that with anyone,” said Dash. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention what I said.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I don’t mean to offend you,” Dash added, and the color in his cheeks intensified. “It’s just that usually —” He stopped. “It’s self-protection,” he said.

  It was sad, really, Ella thought. The way he assumed that his confidence would be broken. He was so beautiful, and he had so much, but he couldn’t open his perfect mouth without fearing that what came out of it would end up in the Criers.

  “I’m not offended,” she said, and she kicked him a little under the table. “Anyway, it’s not like you said anything really juicy, is it? ‘Prince Dash Enjoyed University of Orange’ doesn’t make much of a story.”

  “You’d be surprised what they can turn into a story.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. The scribes wrote steaming piles about my dad and me when we first moved here. I don’t know how you put up with it. I could barely cope with it for two months, and you’ve had it all your life — you have a lot more strength than I do.”

  He gave her a smile so warm that everything inside of Ella went soft all at once.

  “Thanks,” he said quietly.

  The head guard who stood posted behind Dash took a step closer to them, eyeing Ella all the time. She had almost forgotten about the guards; now she had the sudden sense that they could see right into her brain, and she blushed hard. “Do they just stand there staring like that?” she muttered. “All the time?”

  Dash glanced back and scowled. “Yes,” he said. “Excuse me.” He got up with sudden energy and strode over to the guards, fists clenched.

  HE stopped in front of Spaulde
r, whose expression was thoroughly insolent. Beside him, the other guard, Bevor, looked more appropriately nervous.

  “Give me space,” Dash demanded, his voice low. “Take a few steps that way.” He pointed to the other end of the floor, where the guards might stand out of earshot.

  “I have my orders, Your Highness,” said Spaulder. “My apologies.” But he didn’t look apologetic. The man was actually smirking; under his bushy eyebrows, his eyes were full of amusement.

  Dash looked back at his and Ella’s table to see if she was listening, but she wasn’t there any longer. He saw her hair gleam from the other side of the stacks, a few rows of books away.

  “Please,” he whispered, turning back to Spaulder. “I know you’re supposed to listen in on me in case I slip up and say where my mother is. But I’m never going to accidentally blurt that out, am I? Can’t you just let me have a conversation with a friend? That’s all I want.”

  Spaulder snorted. “All you want, sir?” he said, and his lewd tone made his meaning clear. “His Majesty wants me to listen in on plenty of things. Including your private moments with your friend.”

  Dash flushed, furious. “Just because you’re my father’s man doesn’t mean you can’t be replaced,” he said coldly. “Do not overstep yourself with me.”

  Spaulder’s smug expression flickered. Fear flashed in his eyes, and Dash felt a measure of satisfaction to see it there.

  “Sir.” The guard bowed his head. “I beg your pardon. Truly, I have no choice in my duty. His Majesty’s wish is my command.” The man’s face was red. He was embarrassed, Dash knew, to be cowed like this in front of a fellow guard. He was frightened too of losing his position.

  Perhaps he had a family to support.

  The thought came to Dash quite suddenly. He had never thought of Spaulder as anything other than a thug for the king, but Spaulder was a man, and a grown one.

  “Do you have children?” Dash asked.

  Spaulder cringed. “Your Highness, if I’ve caused offense to you, I beg you to visit the consequences on me alone —”

  “No, that’s — that’s not what I meant,” said Dash. His anger at Spaulder drained from him, replaced by the uncomfortable heat of shame. He held this man’s whole happiness in his power — and he had been ready to abuse that power, to give himself a moment of personal pleasure. Spaulder was a bully, but that did not excuse tormenting him. “It was only a question,” Dash managed. “To know you better. How many children do you have?”

  “Three, sir.”

  “How old are they?”

  Spaulder dared a glance up at him. “A son near your age, sir, and two daughters, one the eldest, and the other one still quite small.”

  A boy his own age. Dash considered this. Considered, for the first time in his life, how little he knew not only about Spaulder but about any servant in his house.

  “Stay where my father told you,” he said. “Don’t jeopardize your family. I shouldn’t have asked you not to do your duty.”

  Spaulder bowed his head once more, but not before Dash saw the surprise that registered in the man’s eyes. “Yes, sir.”

  Dash turned back to his table, and he swallowed when he saw that Ella was back in her seat, looking at him. How much of that had she heard?

  He sat across from her, nervous. She opened her mouth. Closed it.

  “Say it,” he said recklessly. She probably thought him a miserable brute, the way he’d threatened Spaulder’s livelihood.

  “You’re a good person,” she blurted. “And see?” She jerked her chin toward his shoulder, and Dash glanced back at his guards. They had moved a good twenty paces away. They still watched him, but they wouldn’t hear his conversation.

  Not that Dash had any idea what to say anymore. The way Ella was gazing at him, he didn’t even know where to look. He hadn’t noticed before, but she’d changed her hair. It was up in a twist, though a few of her curls had escaped confinement. With her bright eyes on him and her soft curls glinting around her face, he wasn’t sure he could muster up two words.

  His father wanted Spaulder to report on his interactions with Ella.

  His father thought that he was infatuated with her.

  “We should —” Dash managed, but the words were strangled. All his earlier ease was gone. “What’s — next? With — er.” He pulled at the neck of his shirt. It felt too tight. “The … the garment project?”

  Oh, well done.

  Ella looked at him curiously. “Class is probably almost over,” she said. “And I need to check out these books. Should we go downstairs?”

  Dash nodded and gathered up his things without a word. He followed Ella down to the library’s front desk, where the rest of their class already stood listening to the professor.

  “We’ll meet here again tomorrow in order to spend the full hour researching,” she said as Lavaliere turned her head and flicked her big gray eyes from Dash to Ella, then back to Dash. He could not read her expression, but he knew that whatever she was thinking, it was not good. It surely didn’t help that his face was burning.

  “What did you find there, Miss Coach?” asked the professor. Ella, who had been approaching the librarian, turned and offered her book. The professor took it and held it up. “Business ethics — an excellent idea,” she said. “The rest of you, be sure to branch out in your thinking tomorrow.”

  “Oh, we will,” said Lavaliere. She shot Dash a smile — the kind that indicated a private joke, only he wasn’t sure what was funny.

  “Class dismissed,” said the professor, and a moment later, Lavaliere was at Dash’s side, propelling him out of the library toward his next class. He wished he could look back at Ella, but it wasn’t prudent. It hadn’t been prudent to sequester himself upstairs with her either. Tomorrow would have to be different — but Ella would still be his partner. He’d still see her, talk to her. That was something.

  He realized what he was thinking at the same time he realized that Lavaliere was speaking.

  “Don’t you agree?” she said.

  He nodded, though he had no idea what she was talking about. His mind swung straight back to Ella. Her boot nudging his under the table. Her kindness. How she’d called him strong and good.

  “… is my opinion,” Lavaliere said. “But Paisley always thinks she knows everything.”

  Dash made a noncommittal noise.

  “You and Ella were a long while upstairs,” Lavaliere said casually.

  He came out of his reverie, alert.

  “It’s a shame you have to endure her,” Lavaliere went on. “Even for a noble cause.”

  Dash hesitated, uncertain. “A noble cause?”

  Lavaliere gave him an arch look. “For His Majesty,” she said. “For the Blue Kingdom.”

  Because he was supposed to be spying on Ella.

  “It is for the Blue Kingdom,” he answered, and he had no trouble saying it. It was not a lie.

  “Well, I’ll make sure you’re not stranded with her tomorrow,” Lavaliere said, untucking her arm from his as they came to the door of her history class. “You won’t have to be noble all on your own.” She kissed his cheek and slipped into the classroom, leaving him alone with his guards and his sinking heart. Tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter how far away Spaulder stood from him; he wouldn’t get a moment with Ella. Not a real one.

  Not with Lavaliere watching.

  THE last day of the school week found Ella in a state of high distraction. She barely noticed poetry class or history; even archery didn’t bother her. She only wanted to get to the library again so she could work on the project.

  And be with Dash.

  She mentally swatted the thought away. It was the project that mattered, not the prince. She couldn’t like him — not like him. It was stupid of her if she did. He was dating Lavaliere, or seemed to be. That was what everyone said.

  But it was hard not to like him. Very hard. If he’d just been pretty, she could’ve gotten over it, but his looks weren’t all of hi
m. Not by a league. He was up so high that he didn’t have to care about anybody else — but he did care. When he’d carried Chemise off the ballroom floor without laughing at her, she’d thought it was good of him, but still — Chemise Shantung was one of his own. It meant more to Ella, far more, that he thought about his servants. That he considered their families — that he noticed they were real people, with real lives.

  When she reached the library that afternoon, she didn’t see Dash right away. She headed upstairs at a jog, too excited to walk. On the third floor, she spotted him reading at their table, and when he looked up at her, she grinned before she could help herself.

  He glanced down at his book without returning her smile.

  Her grin faded and she approached him, feeling silly. Maybe she’d misjudged things yesterday — maybe he’d just been acting polite. When she passed the bookshelves and came closer to the window, she halted. Lavaliere and Paisley were seated at the table directly behind Dash, Lavaliere facing him. She lifted a dark eyebrow at Ella. Paisley turned in her seat and dragged her dark-eyed gaze over Ella’s fairy-made shoes and satchel and her carefully upswept hair.

  “My, my,” she said. “Someone is obviously trying a little harder. I can’t imagine why.”

  Ella’s skin went hot; she turned her back on them and sat across from Dash, who flicked his eyes to her again. Embarrassed, she looked down.

  “We need financials by next week,” he said tonelessly.

  “What?” Ella managed.

  “The assignment,” Dash replied. “The next step in the project. Create a budget.”

  “Oh.”

  They were silent. Ella took out her notes and her borrowed book on business ethics.

  “Do you have a sample budget from your stepmother?” Dash asked.

  “No, Sharlyn says the money stuff’s private.”

  “What about a list of vendors?”

  Ella could feel Lavaliere and Paisley watching her. Listening to her. She couldn’t answer the question honestly with those girls right there — but she had to answer. She wished they were back in Professor Linsey-Woolsey’s classroom with their slate and chalk.