Disenchanted: The Trials of Cinderella

by Megan Morrison

  “That only proves you were scratched,” said Sharlyn. “Not who scratched you. Why, it could have been anyone. You could have done it yourself.”

  “Ridiculous,” Lavaliere mumbled. “Why would I hurt myself?”

  “You seem unwell, Miss Jacquard,” said Sharlyn. “Even faint. Are you in pain?”

  Serge saw Lariat’s expression freeze. Saw her hands clutch at the arms of her chair. “Those questions do not pertain to this hearing,” she said. “Your Majesty?”

  “Lady Gourd-Coach, have you further relevant questions?” asked the king.

  “No, thank you, Your Majesty.”

  Sharlyn took her seat as a guard supported Lavaliere to the top of the dais and helped her to sit beside her mother. Her head lolled to one side and rested against Lariat’s shoulder. “There, there,” Lariat murmured. “Sit up, darling.”

  Lavaliere dragged herself into an upright position and leaned back.

  “With his Majesty the King’s permission,” said Lady Jacquard, “I would call him for questioning.”

  A shocked murmur raced through the Assembly, and Dash whipped his head toward his father, but the king looked unsurprised. Apparently, he’d known this was coming. He rose from his seat, golden in his official uniform, the crown shining upon his blond head.

  “You have my permission, Lady Jacquard,” he replied.

  The lady stood and curtsied. Dash sat between them, rigid.

  “Is it true, sir,” said Lady Jacquard, “that you have questioned Ella Coach’s loyalty to the Blue Kingdom?”

  “Yes,” said King Clement.

  The wind went out of Dash as surely as if his father had struck him. Was this what he would do to save the crown? It was one thing to arrange a bad marriage, but to convict an innocent person of a crime she hadn’t committed — it was going too far. The throne wasn’t worth saving if it had to be saved like this.

  “And is it true,” said Lady Jacquard, “that you asked His Royal Highness Prince Dash to keep an eye on Ella Coach’s activities at school, in order to discern whether she might be, in fact, a threat to the nation?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you discover?”

  King Clement cleared his throat. He opened his mouth.

  Dash spoke forcefully, the only word that came to him.

  “No.” He was on his feet. “No,” he said again, louder.

  “I have no choice,” his father whispered, barely moving his lips, as every person in the House of Mortals leaned toward the royal seat, trying to hear him. “The kingdom will be hers if—”

  “It’s already hers,” Dash retorted, his voice rising with every word. “You do everything she says. Just put the crown on her head and call it finished.”

  There were gasps. Shouts of muffled laughter.

  King Clement blanched. “Be silent,” he commanded. “Or be carried from this chamber.”

  Dash glanced at Ella, resumed his seat, and did not move.

  “What did you discover, sir,” Lady Jacquard continued, “about Ella Coach’s loyalties?”

  “Clement,” Dash’s mother said softly.

  The king looked from Lariat’s face to Queen Maud’s. The queen held his gaze for a long, silent moment.

  “Your Majesty?” prompted Lady Jacquard.

  King Clement’s eyes stayed fixed on his wife. “I have determined,” he said, “not to divulge any information that I may — or may not — have learned about Miss Coach.”

  Lariat’s mouth opened.

  “It is not in the best interests of the country’s security,” King Clement continued, “to discuss such matters in an open hearing.”

  “But your knowledge of Miss Coach’s activities may have a significant bearing upon the outcome of this hearing,” said Lariat angrily. “Do you intend to let a murderer walk free?”

  “I will answer no further questions on this subject,” said the king, and he sat down.

  Queen Maud looked at Lariat and smiled.

  YOUR Majesty,” said Sharlyn, rising. “If you won’t testify, will you allow your son to do so? He is an eyewitness to the fire, and the only person in this room who saw Ella Coach before, during, and after the blaze. It seems only just that he should speak.”

  King Clement’s handsome face shifted; malice lit his eyes. Ella saw in a moment what a terror it would be to have him for a father. “You dare suggest that I am unjust?” he said, his voice rough. “No member of my family may be summoned to speak in any hearing without my consent, and I do not give it. That is all the explanation you require.”

  “However,” said Sharlyn, hefting a wide, leather-bound volume from her bag, “there is a loophole.” She opened the large book, and Ella squinted to see the gold-lettered title.

  His Majesty’s Government

  Charter of Assembly Regulations

  “Here,” said Sharlyn, balancing the charter with one hand and raising her pince-nez with the other. “Statute thirty-eight. ‘In any trial wherein the defendant faces capital punishment or life imprisonment, a member of the House of Mortals may call for a vote to demand the testimony of a royal family member, if such testimony is believed to be necessary.’ ”

  “But you are not a member of this Assembly, Lady Gourd-Coach,” said the king. “You are not even a sworn subject of the Blue Kingdom. You are a citizen of Yellow Country whose tie to this nation is only by marriage, and the sole reason you may stand here as Ella Coach’s advocate is that you are her guardian.” His eyes swept Sharlyn from her hair to her feet. “Your own monarchy having been twice conquered and ultimately abolished,” Clement continued, “you are unschooled in the traditions of royalty. Be seated. I have indulged you long enough.”

  Ella watched Sharlyn’s face, expecting to see embarrassment or anger there. Her stepmother gave King Clement the slightest smile, and bowed her head. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” she said, her tone perfectly even, and she took her seat without betraying a flicker of the fury Ella knew she had to feel. That was self-control — and because of it, Sharlyn came off looking as though she knew more about royal manners than the king himself.

  Ella sat up straighter in her chair. She would stay calm. She would show herself the equal of any of these people. She caught Sharlyn’s eye and nodded, just barely. Her stepmother’s eyes glinted.

  Lariat Jacquard rose, stiff-backed, from her grand chair.

  “Whether or not our king and prince testify,” she said, “I have proof enough to teach you that Ella Coach is disloyal to the Blue Kingdom. Her treason goes much deeper than any of you comprehend. I will show you exactly how Ella Coach intended to escape the fire she set, and just how serious a threat she and her conspirator are to the welfare of our kingdom.”

  Conspirator. Ella glanced at Sharlyn. What could that mean?

  Lady Jacquard gestured to the grand doors on the right of the hall, which opened to reveal a short blue woman in a glittering blue dress.

  “I call the Blue fairy Bejeweled, Director of the Glass Slipper.”

  HIS heart stumbled at the sight of her. Gossamer flitted to his side at once. “What is this?” she asked. “What have they planned?”

  Serge had no idea. Whatever was coming, it was not good.

  Jules fluttered to the dais steps and stood before King Clement and his First Chairs, wings shining, hair coiffed, heels high. “How can I help you?” she said, and her husky voice filled the Assembly chamber.

  “Bejeweled,” said Lariat. “You employ a fairy called Serge.”

  Gossamer gripped his fingers.

  “Until recently I did,” said Jules. “He resigned the day before the fire.”

  “How interesting. And why did he resign?”

  “At first, I wasn’t certain,” said Jules. “He had served the Glass Slipper for eighty years, twenty of them as Executive Godfather. I was very surprised by his sudden withdrawal.”

  “But you let him go?”

  “It was his choice.” Jules shrugged. “Sometimes, a fair
y simply has to fly.”

  The Assembly liked this. They chuckled affably at her joke.

  “Did you know at that time that Serge had affiliated himself with Ella Coach?”

  “No.”

  Assembly members stuck their heads out of their boxes and looked up to catch a glimpse of Serge. He did not so much as flex his wings; he would not let them see his alarm. Ella’s panic swelled alongside his own, but he could not comfort her now. He had to keep himself in check.

  “What did you know about Serge’s association with Miss Coach?” asked Lariat.

  “Only that I forbade it,” said Jules. “His apprentice wanted to work with her, but her name wasn’t officially on the List.”

  “Tell me about his apprentice.”

  “Jasper is a Crimson fairy and the grandson of the fairy queen Opal of Cliffhang.”

  A murmur of alarm made its way through the Assembly, and now those who were looking at Serge narrowed their eyes, suspicious.

  “You allow Crimson fairies among your ranks at the Slipper?”

  “There’s never been one before,” said Jules. “But he seemed genuinely promising.”

  “And on the day of the fire,” said Lariat, “Serge’s bond with Miss Coach became clear?”

  “I wasn’t there,” said Jules. “But the Blue fairies who spoke to Nettie Belting all said that Serge and Jasper both received Ella’s call.”

  “And that means that Serge and Jasper were both her godfathers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Ella Coach know that it was possible for her to set a deadly fire in a locked room and yet escape from it?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” said Jules, waving a blue hand. “Nothing to it, with fairies on your side.”

  “But why would Serge take her side?” said Lariat. “Why would a Blue fairy align himself with a traitor to his nation?”

  “Because he’s a traitor himself,” said Jules. “Bring in the glass slippers.”

  HE had no idea what was happening. How had a trial about a fire suddenly become about a fairy? And why were there dozens of guards now filing in rows across the chamber floor, each of them bearing a small pillow topped with a pair of glass slippers? The members of the Assembly came to the railings of their boxes to look down and see every detail. For the first time all day, Lady Gourd-Coach looked bewildered.

  “I now call upon the fairies of the Glass Slipper,” said Lady Jacquard, and her voice rang out in the chamber, victorious. “All except Serge. The rest of you have been summoned for one purpose, and that is to identify, among these many slippers, the ones that you created for your own godchildren. Stand beside those slippers now.”

  For a moment, no fairy moved. They all looked at one another and then at Serge.

  “Come,” said Nexus Maven, rising to her feet. “Do your duty.”

  The fairies descended from the ceiling like falling leaves, radiant in the blue light that filtered through the cut-glass ceiling. They fluttered over the sparkling shoes that rested on the tasseled pillows, frowning and hunting. One fairy landed beside a pillow. Another did the same. In a minute, they had each found at least one pair that they had created, and they looked up at Lady Jacquard, all of them obviously uncertain.

  “What is the purpose of this?” said a dark blue fairy.

  “Gossamer,” said Bejeweled. “Did you make those slippers?”

  “Of course I did,” said the dark blue fairy. “You know I did.”

  “No, no, babe. Did you make those slippers?”

  Gossamer frowned. She plucked the slipper from the pillow, inspected it, and nodded. “These were for Oxford Truss two years ago. What are you getting at?”

  “Is that what the slippers looked like when you finished with them?” Bejeweled demanded.

  “Not quite,” said Gossamer. “They were changed slightly.”

  “Who changed them?”

  Gossamer glanced up at the only Blue fairy who remained perched above the House of Magic. “Serge did,” she said.

  “What did he change about them?”

  “The heels,” said Gossamer. “He disagreed with their height, so he fixed it.”

  “How?”

  “With magic,” said Gossamer, snorting. “What else?”

  “Carvel,” said Bejeweled. “Did you make those slippers for Tiffany Farthingale?”

  “Mostly,” he replied, looking quite nervous.

  “But what happened?”

  “Serge changed the toes. He thought mine were out of date.”

  Bejeweled asked another fairy, and then another, and they all answered in much the same way. The fairies grew agitated and the Assembly grew restless — except for Cameo Shantung. Her dark eyes were alert, following Bejeweled’s every movement.

  “These,” said Bejeweled, plucking an amber pair of shoes from a small pillow, “are the glass slippers that Serge made for his own client, Loom Batik. Here are the ones he made for Chelsea Brogue.” She went on down the line, naming dozens of Serge’s godchildren, every one of them the son or daughter of a member of the House of Mortals.

  “If the House of Mortals would indulge me a moment?” said Bejeweled, lifting a sparkling pink slipper into the air. “Raise your hands if Serge has ever been inside your home.”

  Half the hands in the Assembly Hall went up.

  “Thank you, Bejeweled,” said Lady Jacquard. “Fairies of the Glass Slipper, we are grateful for your assistance. Serge excepted, you are dismissed from this hearing.”

  “Dismissed?” said Gossamer indignantly.

  “Dismissed,” said Nexus Maven. Ribbons of light moved around her hands, humming. Threatening. “The fairies of the House of Magic will escort you from the chamber if necessary.”

  The Blue fairies of the Glass Slipper looked deeply offended, but they filed out through the grand doors. Dash watched them go, wondering if all of them had really left. They were magic, after all. They could make themselves invisible. He remembered his father saying something once about wishing he could put iron bars on the Assembly Hall windows, but the House of Magic wouldn’t hear of it, since their magic would be hampered too.

  The guards closed the doors behind the fairies of the Glass Slipper. Now the only fairies left in the chamber were Serge and those few who were members of the House of Magic — including Bejeweled.

  “Every pair of glass slippers is finished by the same hand,” said Lady Jacquard. “Serge’s. He has been in many of your homes, and his slippers have been in the bedrooms and parlors of every family in the House of Mortals. He has had unparalleled access to your private lives.”

  The Assembly looked nervous now. They glanced around at one another.

  “Bejeweled,” said Lariat, “what did you learn about these slippers after Serge resigned?”

  Bejeweled sighed gustily, and her gaudy gown glittered. “It’s just too awful,” she said. “I can’t even bear to say.”

  But she looked, Dash thought, as though she were enjoying herself a little too much for that to be true. And when she glanced up at Serge, she couldn’t keep a wicked smile from her face.

  “You might as well come on down, babe,” she said. “Your game is over.”

  HE did not move from his perch. He could barely hear Jules over the sound of his own heart beating. He knew what she was about to say; he knew, and he didn’t know how to stop her. It didn’t really matter if she ruined his life. They could bring him up on charges, but he was a fairy. He could fly from here and live out his life in peace somewhere that wasn’t Quintessential.

  But Ella …

  “Serge infused every pair of these slippers with illegal magic,” said Jules. “Listening magic. He has spied on every member of this Assembly.”

  The Assembly boiled quickly to a froth. There were shouts. Threats. Serge’s wings were numb; he couldn’t even feel the burned one aching.

  Jules and Lariat had beaten him to it.

  He didn’t know how they’d discovered that he knew about the little glass dot
s. Perhaps Jules had overheard him telling Cameo through Challis’s slippers. Perhaps Cameo had trusted the wrong person, and that person had run to Lariat. It didn’t matter. He was neatly framed.

  “And so you see? Ella Coach had an accomplice,” said Lariat. “A traitor with wings who could bear her safely away from danger. A traitor who passed our national secrets to his so-called apprentice, who is a Crimson fairy and the heir to Queen Opal of Cliffhang. Serge and Ella Coach have been working together to destroy this kingdom — and that includes setting the fire in my workshop. Thank you, Bejeweled. Your testimony has been invaluable.”

  Serge’s velvet jacket felt small and tight. How would they recover from this? How could he save Ella now?

  Where was Jasper?

  THEY were going to lose. They couldn’t, but they were. She didn’t believe for a second that Serge had done anything wrong — Lady Jacquard was only making things up about him.

  But the Assembly was angry. Hungry for blood.

  “Have you any response, Lady Gourd-Coach?” said King Clement.

  Sharlyn rose slowly. “Bejeweled,” she said in a voice that, for once, was not quite calm — Ella caught the edge of fear in it, and it terrified her. “When Serge flew to the Jacquard workshop to rescue Ella Coach, he brought with him more than fifty fairies. What did they do when they reached the blaze?”

  “Plenty,” said Bejeweled with a pff of disinterest. “Saved the children, put out the fire. Made themselves look like heroes.”

  “You don’t think that saving children and putting out fires is heroic?”

  “I think,” said Bejeweled, putting a hand on her glittering hip, “that it’s awfully convenient that fifty Blue fairies were waiting just a few blocks away from the fire when it happened.”

  Sharlyn was silent. Ella could almost hear her thinking. “Can you prove,” said her stepmother after a moment, “that there is illegal magic in the slippers?”

  Ella sat up slightly. It was a good question.

  “You’d have to be a Blue fairy to hear anything through the shoes,” said Bejeweled. “But let’s have a test.” She beckoned to the House of Magic. “A little help?” she said, and she handed off a slipper to the first Blue fairy who volunteered. She gave the other slipper in the pair to Sharlyn, and the fairy volunteer left the chamber. Sharlyn whispered something into the shoe.