Lucky Charm : (A Cinderella Reverse Fairytale book 2) (Reverse Fairytales)

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Lucky Charm : (A Cinderella Reverse Fairytale book 2) (Reverse Fairytales) Page 2

by J. A. Armitage


  Is it really love?

  The voice again. I did love Luca. He was a wonderful man, but I had to admit, I didn’t feel the goosebumps when he walked through the door. My heart didn’t race in his presence the way it did when I thought of Cynder. And yet, he was so perfect for the role in a way that Cynder could never hope to be. Cynder had grown up as a second-class citizen. I hated to admit that. To me, there was nothing second-class about him, but he’d not grown up learning how to rule a country as Luca had. No, things had turned out for the best, I just had to keep telling myself that.

  My family and friends were led away to the great banquet hall to join all the guests who had been invited for the coronation, while I stayed behind to give a full interview. I’d written my speech carefully with the help of the royal advisors. This was no wishy-washy speech like all the others I’d had to give about choosing a husband. I’d filled it with my wishes and plans for Silverwood and the political ideals I held. It had taken me weeks to write and polish, and now I felt confident that the people of Silverwood would see me as a political force and not some flouncy-dress-wearing princess.

  I sat down in the sitting room-cum-media room opposite a tall wispy man with the thickest, most luxurious hair I’d ever seen in the most garish, yellow blond. On his lapel, he wore a small golden pin in the shape of a rose. His name was Frederick, and he had taken over Sadie’s role as Royal Media Correspondent when she died. This was the first time I’d met him. I got the impression that the interviews with him weren’t going to be as frivolous and light-hearted as they had been with Sadie which I was glad about. I needed a serious interviewer for the topics I wanted to talk about, not just someone who would ask me who designed the dress I was wearing.

  “Your Majesty,” he began, “how are you enjoying your first day as Queen?”

  I’d expected this question and had a prepared answer.

  “The ceremony was beautiful. Thank you.” I turned straight to the camera now. I wanted to address Silverwood, not Frederick.

  “I want to thank each and every one of you that came out today to wish me well. It has brought happiness to my heart to think that we can now be a kingdom as one, not divided by race, color, gender or magical ability.” I emphasized the last one as it really was the only thing that did divide our kingdom. “The past year has been a difficult one for many of us, but I’m confident that if we all pull together, we can make Silverwood a stronger, happier place to live for all of us.”

  “I noticed there were some anti-magi protestors outside the palace,” interjected Frederick.

  “Yes, there were. There is still a lot of anti-Magi feeling in the kingdom, and it is my wish that we can all learn to live together in peace. Silverwood will be a place where we can all feel safe.”

  Frederick stared at me, putting me on edge. “And how do you propose making Silverwood safe for the Magi? There aren’t many left.”

  “I’ve talked a lot about Magi rights in the past. As you know, Frederick, it is a topic very dear to my heart. Silverwood has become a divided nation, something which the monarchy of the past has had a lot to do with. I’ve gone on record and told the truth about the palace’s involvement. I can only ask forgiveness from those who have been hurt, but I plan on making changes. No more will the Magi be treated differently than anyone else. We are all people of Silverwood and, therefore, will all have the same choices and chances. University admission will be opened up to all, and no employer will be allowed to discriminate on the grounds of magical ability. There will always be jobs here at the palace for those magi that left. My home and my kingdom are open to them.”

  “That’s a very different approach than that of your father,” Frederick reminded me.

  I really didn’t want to bring my father up again. I’d spent the last six months trying to change people’s opinions. They still loved him.

  “My father had his own reasons for not wanting the Magi in Silverwood. I, personally, would like to look to the future and put the past where it belongs.”

  I hoped that would be the end of it, but he carried on, wanting to know what exactly were my father’s reasons. I’d told the truth about my father to the press, but there were a lot of things I’d kept from them. They didn’t know that Xavier was my cousin, and they didn’t know that my sister died at their hands.

  “A lot of people think that your father had the right attitude and that you are tearing down the monarchy.” Frederick smiled in such a way I wanted to punch him. Being queen, that was high on my list of no-no’s. I was appalled by his words, but I could hardly show it on live television. Instead, I smiled sweetly.

  “People are always afraid of change, Mr. Pittser, but I assure you that I will do my best for this kingdom. I am committed to being a ruler that the people of Silverwood deserve. I...”

  Frederick cut me off, “Well I expect that they’d all like to see another reality TV show about it. The last one certainly won hundreds of thousands of viewers. I, for one, was taking bets on what color dress you’d wear next.”

  Sadie would have probably said something similar, but with her, it would have been genuine. Frederick Pittser had said it to put me down, to show the world I was nothing more than an airhead princess. I wanted to fight him, to tell him and the world that I wasn’t that person, but the truth was, that’s all they had ever seen of me. It didn’t matter what I said to him now. What would matter was what I did in the coming months and years. His views weren’t unusual, unfortunately, but that didn’t mean I liked them. I’d hoped for an interview where things would be resolved, but Frederick Pittser seemed determined to make me look bad, as if I needed the help. I made a mental note to call the network to speak to them about Magi rights and, hopefully, find someone more appropriate to be the royal correspondent. For now, this interview was over.

  “I’m afraid I must go and join my guests,” I said, standing. “They can’t eat until I’m there, and I’m sure I heard Prince Luca’s stomach rumbling during photographs.”

  Frederick gave a forced laugh and turned to the camera to wrap up. I had left the sitting room and was halfway down the corridor when he caught up with me. He grabbed me roughly by the arm, spinning me towards him and taking me by surprise. His pleasant but boring TV manner had left him, and instead, he had a fierce look on his face that startled me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, alarmed. A quick glance up the corridor told me that we were alone. “Get off, you are hurting me.”

  “I know, Your Majesty,” he hissed.

  “What?”

  “I know more than you think.” He pulled back his lips to reveal a ghastly grin that put me completely on edge.

  After a second or two, he let go of my arm and smiled a sickly smile as though he’d not just assaulted me. I rubbed my arm where he’d grabbed it. A year ago, I’d have gone to my bedroom and cried, but I’d seen too much to put up with this kind of behavior.

  “I don’t know what you think you know, Mr. Pittser,”—I raised my voice.—“but I cannot and will not have you touching me without my permission. I’ll be calling your network and telling them what you just did.”

  I tried to sound as intimidating as possible. It obviously didn’t work.

  “No, you won’t. I know about your affair with the kitchen hand. If I lose my job, I’ll tell the world. I don’t think Prince Luca would be too happy to find out what his fiancé was up to behind his back would he?”

  I felt sick, hearing what he was saying to me, but there was no way he could possibly know how I felt about Cynder.

  I crossed my arms and stood as tall as I could, still barely coming up to Pittser’s chest. “What do you want, Mr. Pittser, because I don’t take kindly to being blackmailed for something that didn’t happen.”

  “I want you to stop the Magi scum from re-entering. Silverwood was doing fine before you decided to stick your oar in.”

  “There were bombings and riots!” I reminded him. “People died!”

  “Keep th
em out, and we won’t have to find out if the people believe that your affair didn’t happen, will we? The MDS will rule.”

  There it was again. The MDS. He turned on his heel and left me standing alone in the corridor in a state of bewilderment.

  Frederick Pittser was wrong. There’d been no affair. I’d not seen Cynder in over six months, but it was true that I’d never told Luca about him. What was the point? Cynder was in my past. Luca was my future. I didn’t want anyone else to know either. I’d had enough questioning from the press about why I was so interested in Magi rights. If they found out I was in love with one of them, it would make a mockery of everything I’d achieved. Ok, I’d not achieved much, but if the world knew about Cynder and me, it would only push the cause backwards.

  I was still walking down the corridor when I realized that in trying to think everything through, I’d automatically thought of myself as being in love with Cynder.

  I rubbed my arm and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

  My arm still throbbed as I walked into the banqueting hall. I tried to put Frederick Pittser and his threats out of my mind as I took in the scene before me. My mother had outdone herself with the decorations. Everything was golden from the cutlery to the floral arrangements. The whole place sparkled. I plastered on a smile as hundreds of guests, the elite of the elite, rose from their places to greet me. A cheer went up, and the applause thundered through my ears as I made my way to the head table. I was popular in here, at least.

  The last time the banquet hall had been this full was the night of the ball. This time there was to be no dancing and, hopefully, no drama or explosions.

  As I was served the most ludicrous fancy meal, I thought back to when Cynder had brought me a plain chicken dish.

  “Is it ok?”

  I looked to my left to see Luca gazing at me. “You’ve been looking at your plate for the last five minutes, and you are yet to pick up a fork. Everyone is waiting.”

  “Hmm?” I looked around. He was right. I’d forgotten that no one was allowed to eat until the monarch started their meal. Everyone had been waiting patiently for me to start. I picked up my cutlery, feeling embarrassed and nodded my head at everyone. As soon as I took my first bite, the sound of hundreds of pieces of cutlery being picked up filled the hall. I could almost hear the collective sighs of relief as they were all finally allowed to eat.

  “Oops,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Don’t sweat it. It’s your first day on the job. It will get easier.” Luca speared a potato and popped it into his mouth.

  “What would I do without you?” I smiled back at him.

  The meal went without a hitch, and the champagne party afterward went late into the night without any problems or interruptions. Part of me was on edge, waiting for a bomb to go off or a riot to break out, but apart from a couple of tipsy guests, everything went smoothly.

  That night, Luca escorted me my bedroom.

  “You did gloriously today, My Queen.” He did a small bow, and I swiped him playfully on the sleeve.

  “Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

  “My parents want us to do an official visit to Thalia next month. I was hoping you’d say yes. I’d like you to meet my brother, sister-in–law, and my nephews.”

  “I’d love to!” I exclaimed. I’d invited the whole family to the coronation, but as Luca’s sister-in-law was a Mage, they felt it would be safer to stay at home, and only his mother and father attended. I hated how, even now, some of his family didn’t feel comfortable in visiting Silverwood. “I’ll speak to Jenny and my mother to arrange it. Can you let your parents know that we’ll definitely come?”

  Luca grinned. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy.

  “I love you. I’m so grateful you picked me.”

  I wanted to say his words back to him, but as usual, something stopped me. He was so free with his language and had expressed his love for me on so many occasions, but I was yet to say those three words to him. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him.

  Kissing Luca was always a pleasure. He was as beautiful on the outside as he was on the inside and as for kissing—he was an expert. As soon as our lips touched, he moved towards me so our bodies were slammed together. He took the back of my head in his hands and kissed me with an urgency and a passion that one day I hoped to match. I fell into his embrace savoring every moment.

  He peppered my neck with kisses until he got to the neckline of my dress. I thought that’s where he would stop, but he pulled down slightly on the material, causing me to step back.

  “We can’t,” I whispered. “Not until the wedding night.”

  “Why not?” asked Luca, looking put out.

  “You know why not. It’s not protocol.”

  “Who will know?”

  I nodded my head to the far end of the corridor where a guard stood on duty. He wasn’t watching us, but he had to be aware what we were doing.

  “He’s not allowed to tell anyone. It’s part of his contract.”

  Luca moved back to my neck, but I pulled back again.

  “We have to wait until our wedding night,” I repeated, feeling foolish.

  He scrunched his eyes up. “Do you want me, Charmaine?”

  “Yes,” I replied a little too quickly. “I just want our wedding night to be special.”

  His features softened. “It will be. I’ll make sure of it.” He kissed me on the nose and reluctantly left me alone with my thoughts.

  I threw myself on my bed, exhausted after the full day. I’d lied to Luca. Well, partially. I did want our wedding night to be special, but that wasn’t the reason for holding back. I wasn’t ready. I enjoyed his kisses, the feel of him against me, but there was something stopping me from taking it further that had nothing to do with my wedding night.

  You know exactly who’s stopping you!

  I pulled the covers over my head to try to drown out the voice.

  The Chief of Police

  I’d specifically cleared the week after my coronation from my calendar so I could spend time with advisors planning what path to take for my kingdom. Jenny, who had somehow morphed from being my nanny into my personal assistant, planned what meeting I was supposed to be in and where, but more often than not, I would find her colluding with Xavi and my mother on wedding matters.

  On the third day after I became queen, I called her into my office. It was the same office my father had used, and as I’d not had a chance to decorate, the whole place reeked of him, both figuratively and literally. I could still smell the faint scent of his tobacco, and it was his choice of pictures that decorated the dark room. Everything in there was wood or leather and without any windows, it made me feel claustrophobic. The only part of the room I liked was the large desk. Made by Daniel and his father, it was exquisite in its craftsmanship. I made a mental note to get some decorators in to brighten up the room. The desk was staying, but everything else could go.

  “Yes?” asked Jenny as she bustled through the door. She was wearing a mixture of flowers in her hair and had drapes of fabric swathed over her shoulders.

  “Fancy dress ball?” I enquired, struggling to figure out just exactly she was trying to be.

  “We were in the dressing room going over samples for the tablecloths and centerpieces.”

  More wedding talk. I should have guessed.

  “Have you made an appointment for me to speak with the chief of police? I need to speak to him about the demonstrations. They were out there on my coronation day, and they are still out there now.”

  Jenny pulled out a notebook from a pocket hidden somewhere in her voluminous skirts and began to flick through it, licking her finger with each page turn.

  “Two o’clock this afternoon.” She looked at her watch. “You’d better get something for lunch quickly, it’s one already, and I made the appointment for you to go to the station.”

  I glanced up at the clock. It would take me at least half
an hour to get to the police headquarters. Sighing, I stood and walked past her. “Please, can you get my coat and tell the stable hands I’ll need a horse.”

  “Don’t you want a carriage? It’s freezing out there.”

  I shook my head. I was going to see him alone, and the royal carriage would stand out a mile. I didn’t want the protesters to know where I was going.

  Half an hour later I was trotting down the back driveway on one of the royal horses. The guards seemed surprised to see me, but they let me past without question. It felt so different to six months previously when I had to sneak out. Now I was in charge, and no one could stop me. The protesters were thankfully in small numbers around the back, the majority taking up a more prominent place at the palace’s front gates. Going through the gates reminded me of the letters I’d seen on one of the banners three days previously. Some of the nastier banners had the same three letters today. The same letters Frederick Pittser had uttered at me. I’d completely forgotten about them until now, but I made a mental note to ask the chief of police about them. The protesters jeered, but, at least, no one tried to attack.

  I’d never been to the large police headquarters before, but I knew the building. As imposing as it was bland, its stark architecture and sleek lines, always gave me the chills as though it was built only to house criminals. It did just that on the lower floors, but it was also the central hub for the whole of Silverwood’s police force. The top four floors housed hundreds of the kingdom’s finest men and women police officers from the constables that roamed the streets, to the chief on the top floor. Any crime committed anywhere in any city in Silverwood was processed at this place. To me, it looked like a very large square box.

  The security guard on the door was ready for me as I walked in. He led me past the long line of people demanding to speak to an officer, and to a stairwell.

  As I walked up the seemingly never-ending stairs, I realized that I’d never actually met the chief of police before. I’d seen him speaking to my father on a number of occasions, but I’d never had the opportunity to discuss matters with him. I remembered him as being a rather pugnacious man with wispy hair and a thick mustache that covered up his rodent-like face.

 

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