Cinders, Stars, and Glass Slippers: A Retelling of Cinderella

by Brittany Fichter

  The imagined tirade continued in Elaina’s head until she finally dared to meet her aunt’s eyes. The pallor in her aunt’s face, however, stopped her in her tracks.

  “What is it?” she asked. Why was her voice so squeaky?

  Elaina felt her stomach drop as, with a shaking hand, Charlotte handed her a parchment.

  The broken wax seal was red. Elaina swallowed hard as she unfolded the letter. The writing was in the dock keeper’s stiff hand.

  Miss Lady Elaina Starke,

  I regret to inform you and your kin that the Adroit has failed to report as expected at port. No word or signal has been heard from Admiral Baxter Starke or his crew in two weeks. A search is underway now. I will inform you if anything is found.

  Elaina put her hand over her mouth, but no sound came out.

  “Elaina, I’m so sorry,” Charlotte began to say, but Elaina could only shake her head.

  “I . . . I need a few moments.”

  “I understand.” Charlotte paused. “But we are here when you need us.”

  Elaina nodded faintly and walked away as though in a cloud. The crowds around her began to disappear into the sudden fog that filled her world. Without considering which way she was going, Elaina continued to move. She needed to get away. She needed to be alone.

  It was not as though a missing ship was unheard of. Elaina had tracked a fair number in her days upon the Adroit. Some were found. Others were not. Storms, pirates, disease, there were an infinite number of reasons a ship might not come to harbor. That was the harsh reality of being a sailor in the king’s navy.

  But that was not what was eating her inside.

  “Elaina!”

  Elaina closed her eyes. Just make him go away, she prayed.

  But the Maker did not listen. The prince came running up from behind her. He swerved around her and stopped so that he was blocking her path.

  “I saw your aunt crying.” He frowned. “What has happened?”

  Not trusting herself to speak, Elaina handed him the note.

  Upon reading it, he closed his own eyes and let out a deep breath. “I . . . I’m so sorry.”

  Elaina took the note back and began walking again. But the prince did not take her hint. Instead, he hovered beside her.

  “Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do.” When she didn’t answer, he took her by the shoulders and made her stop again. “In truth! You’re the one who knows what to do in these situations! Tell me what we need to do so that we can find him. Say the word, and it will be done.”

  “You saw the message.” Elaina’s voice sounded distant and cold. “They’re searching already. There’s nothing more to do.”

  “Surely there must be something . . .” He let go of her shoulders and ran his hands through his hair. “I mean, it’s acceptable if you want to cry even.” He let out a sad attempt at a chuckle. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

  “I don’t cry.” She stared back down at the note. “I haven’t cried since I was eight, on the third anniversary of my mother’s death when I realized she was never coming back.”

  Nicholas gave her a long, strange look. “So you’re just going to—”

  “I just need to be by myself!” she cried out. “Is that so much to ask?”

  He watched her a moment longer before slowly shaking his head. “No. It is not. But Elaina?”

  Elaina stopped, but didn’t turn to look at him.

  “It’s only human not to be strong all the time. You don’t have to bear every burden alone.”

  Elaina had no more words with which to answer. The world had turned upside down, and it was all she could manage to stay upright and walk away.

  14

  What the Stars Say

  The emptiness on Elaina’s face bothered Nicholas for the rest of the day. The carnival lost all of its amusement, even with the new girl on his arm. And when he made some lame excuse to leave early, something about a stomachache from too many sweets, he knew no one believed it. Not even the somewhat simple girl from Vaksam.

  He still couldn’t get Elaina out of his head by the time dusk had fallen. And yet he had to, if only for a few hours. One misstep, and the day would get much, much worse.

  “Four loaves, as usual,” the cook murmured when Nicholas snuck down to the kitchens. She jerked her chin toward a dark blue bag on the counter, not looking up from the bread she was kneading.

  Nicholas pecked her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re marvelous.”

  Her calloused flour-covered hands finally paused. “You need to be careful. Your father was here this morning asking about you.”

  Nicholas stuffed the bag of bread beneath his cloak. “He’s . . . occupied tonight. I should be fine.”

  The woman sighed, the dark circles beneath her eyes looking deeper than usual. She gave Nicholas a sad smile. “Even so. I’m not sure exactly what it is that you do out there, but I would hate to see you get caught.”

  Nicholas thanked her once more and slipped back out of the kitchens and into the stables. After saddling his horse, he waited until a cloud moved over the moon. The overcast sky had cleared earlier that evening, so he would have to rely on the shadows of random clouds until he reached the inner part of the city.

  It was no small distance between the palace and his destination, past the market and the neighborhoods and smaller estates of his wealthier courtiers, past the prosperous homes of merchants and others who had come into money, to the small corner of the city that few of his class even knew existed. Still, he knew the route by heart, and there was no sign of his father’s guards by the time he dismounted and pulled his horse into the lightless alley between two shacks.

  “You’re late,” a voice rasped from the darkness.

  “I had to wait until my absence would be unnoticed,” Nicholas replied. “Now what’s this about?”

  “He took another last night.”

  “Where?”

  “Not two streets from here. A woman named Casey.”

  “Didn’t she work in the bakery on the—”

  “That’s the one. Found her this morning behind her shop.”

  “He’s getting faster.” Nicholas groaned. Then he sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember his schedule for the next week. “Did she have any relatives?”

  “A brother and an aging mother. Mother owns the bakery but can’t run it much alone anymore. Casey and her brother did all the work.”

  “Blast. I won’t be able to get out again for another three days. Think she would meet with me then?”

  “I think her son would be more help. But aye, I can bring them both.”

  “Good.” Nicholas pulled the bag of bread from his cloak and held it out. Take this. And these.” He dug into his pocket for a few coins. “Thank you again. Make sure your little girl gets a decent pair of shoes. Last I saw her, she’d grown another six inches.”

  Nicholas could barely make out the shadowed figure tipping his hat. “Honored, sire. Much obliged.” And with that, Nicholas was alone.

  He knew tarrying would be unwise, but Nicholas couldn’t bring himself to hurry back to the palace. Instead, he directed his horse to the western outskirts of town that edged the water. The low roar of the ocean was soothing. It helped drown out the voice of frustration that was screaming inside his head as he slowly made his way north toward the palace.

  A small sound interrupted his tumultuous thoughts. At first he thought himself to be imagining things. Sometimes the water’s gurgles were deceptive. But the farther he rode, the louder the sound became. After a minute, he could distinguish a voice.

  A familiar voice.

  He stopped his mount and strained to hear. They had reached the main naval dock, but there was no one to be seen. The only sign of life came from the distant glow of the dock keeper’s lantern that hung outside his little shack.

  But there. A movement caught his eye. Sitting on the dock’s edge with her legs dangling over the water was a woman.

&nb
sp; Nicholas jumped down and tied his horse to a post. Was she out of her mind? What woman went to the docks alone at night? His curiosity was answered, however, when he heard her voice again.

  The dull ache of borrowed sorrow filled his chest as he took his cloak off and began to walk slowly toward her so as not to frighten the poor thing.

  “Did I miss something?”

  Nicholas froze. Was she speaking to him?

  “I thought I’d listened every night,” she continued. “But maybe I fell asleep . . .” Her voice faltered. “Sometimes I do that, and I don’t hear.” She paused, tilting her head. “Was it my fault?”

  “You’re going to freeze to death if you stay out here much longer,” he said gently as he dropped the cloak over her shoulders.

  Elaina’s head jerked up. For a moment, panic filled her face, sharpening the ache in his chest. Then she closed her eyes and let out a deep breath.

  “It’s a bit late to watch the sunset, don’t you think?” He sat beside her and dangled his own legs over the water. In the bright light of the moon, he tried to study her face without looking too conspicuous. Had her sanity fled her in her sorrow? Should he fetch her aunt? Had she walked all the way here? At night?

  “After my mother died, my father never spoke of her.”

  Nicholas stared at her. When was the last time she had volunteered to speak with him? Had she ever?

  She paused and tilted her head up to the sky again, seemingly oblivious to his shock.

  Even in the darkness, Nicholas couldn’t help but admire the graceful shape of her neck. There was an openness to her face, her posture, that he had never seen before. It was as though he was finally getting to meet her for the first time.

  “But as long as he was alive,” she whispered, “so was my mother in a way.”

  Nicholas found himself at a loss for words, something he was unaccustomed to. And he hated it. Finally, he forced himself to say the first thing that came to mind. “What are they saying?”

  “What?”

  He smiled and pointed back up to the sky. “You keep looking at the stars as though they speak to you.”

  She shook her head and looked back down at the water, shuddering delicately.

  He tried again. “Sometimes we find words in places we don’t expect. Are the stars talking to you tonight?” He chuckled. “I found wisdom in a turtle once. Of course, that was after I’d put it in my sister’s room, not realizing my mother would be taking tea there with Sophia’s friends.” He paused when she didn’t answer. “Elaina?”

  “No matter where we sailed, I could see the stars. I suppose they make me feel close to him. Wherever he is.”

  Nicholas wanted so badly to take her hands. They looked even smaller than usual in her lap, vulnerable without gloves or a muff to cover them. It was a strange feeling though, for his desire wasn’t to scoop them up the way he did the arms of pretty girls at parties. Not that she wasn’t pretty, but . . . this time he simply yearned to comfort, to protect. He wanted to make her pain go away.

  “I hate to be the one to say this,” he finally said after she shivered again, “but isn’t it about time you head home? The ninth bell just tolled.”

  She nodded wearily, and he hopped to his feet before reaching down to help her up. As soon as she was standing, he allowed her hand to drop. As much as it pained him, tonight he wouldn’t press. In fact, his desire to flirt with her had evaporated entirely. He only wanted to help.

  “Do you . . . do you mind if I walk you home?”

  “If you wish.”

  The air was heavy, sounds of the ocean filling it like fog too thick for any of the questions he was dying to ask.

  “What do you mean?” She whirled around and looked up at the sky.

  “I didn’t say anything. Who are you talking to?”

  She stared at the sky for another moment before shaking her head and turning back to him. “No one.”

  “Elaina, who were you talking to?”

  When she looked at the ground, he took her by the arms and held her there in case she decided to bolt. “There is no one here but us. And I did not utter a word.”

  She avoided his eyes, but the glance she let slip to the sky told him all he needed to know.

  Why a father would risk raising his five-year-old daughter on a warship.

  Why she was so defensive.

  Why she was talking to the stars.

  Without pausing to think about what he was doing, Nicholas grabbed her hand and sprinted toward his horse. Before he even untied the beast, he had her up and in the saddle.

  “What are you doing?” she cried, but he hissed up for her to be quiet. As soon as his horse was freed from the post, he threw himself into the saddle behind her.

  “Really! What is this? Let me down!”

  “Shut up and hold on,” he growled in her ear. Then he threw one arm around her waist and with the other sent the horse flying east. “There is someone out here killing people like you. Another one died last night. I’d like you not to be his next victim.”

  Elaina stopped fighting and turned as well as she could to look at him.

  “Just hang on tight and lay low.” Nicholas was nearly giddy with relief that he had placed his cloak over her shoulders earlier. It helped hide the shiny gown she was wearing as they cut through the black streets under the bright light of the moon.

  Neither of them spoke again until they reached the east side of the city where the manors spread out across the plain. “Which one is yours?” Nicholas whispered. He was fairly sure her mother had lived on this lane.

  “The one with the columns and blue trim. Two manors down.” She wasn’t fighting him anymore, but he could feel her body wound like a spring as he leaned forward to shield her with his own.

  When they made it to the gate, Elaina called down for the startled gate guard to let them in. Nicholas didn’t allow her off the horse, however, until they had rounded the manor and reached the kitchen door. As soon as they were stopped, he sat up and let her slide to the ground.

  She straightened and dusted her gown off with some indignation, but Nicholas didn’t miss the trembling of her hands.

  “Once you’re inside, I’m going to have some stern words with your guard.” He hadn’t been aware that she even had a palace guard until just now, but he hadn’t missed the white and blue uniform of the man leaning against a column as they had bolted past. Now that he understood the nature of her father’s worry, however, he had a good idea as to why her father might have requested the extra protection. Not that such an idle guard would do her any good. “I want you to go inside now and stay there until I return and get you myself. Don’t even go out with a guard. Only me.”

  “Your Highness! I am perfectly capable of looking out for myself.”

  “I don’t care what you think you’re capable of right now. There is an evil in this city that you don’t know or understand. You are to stay here.” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “That’s an order.”

  15

  Vulnerable

  Elaina hardly slept at all that night. Instead, she tossed and turned in pointless, hazy dreams that hovered somewhere between unconsciousness and reality. Her father’s disappearance mixed with the prince’s anger until they created one miserable dream. Only when the sky began to gray was she finally able to rouse herself from the awful sticky fog that clouded her thoughts.

  For lack of better things to do, Elaina dragged herself out of bed, washed her face, dressed, and pulled her hair up. Then she made her way down the stairs, where she met her aunt.

  “Did you happen to hear that clatter last night?” Charlotte yawned. “I don’t remember when, but it sounded like a stampede was running across our lawn.” She shook her head as though to clear it. “When I looked, however, there was nothing. I suppose I should ask Jeffrey—”

  “Mother!”

  Before Elaina could answer her aunt, Lydia hurried down the stairs. She was unusually disheveled in her dress
ing gown with her hair still wrapped in rags. “Mother, last night I saw Elaina ride in with the prince on his horse—”

  “Lydia!” Charlotte’s tone was sharper than Elaina had ever heard it before. “Get control of yourself!” She shot a look at the servants who had paused to watch the scene. “We will discuss this in private.” She turned a fierce eye on Elaina. “And I expect the truth.”

  Elaina nodded and followed her aunt into the parlor, but she felt Lydia’s eyes on her back the entire time. Her cousin’s withering glare didn’t lessen when she took up her place by the fireplace and Elaina sat in a chair.

  “Now,” Charlotte turned once the parlor doors had all been secured and the windows shut, “I would like to start at the beginning.” She looked at Elaina. “Were you with the prince last night?”

  “I never meant to even meet him,” Elaina began, staring at her hands. They were still dry and chapped from her late evening out. “I had walked to the docks.”

  “You walked to the docks?” Charlotte’s voice rose a level. “Without a guard?”

  Elaina nodded.

  “That is over an hour’s walk! May I ask what for?”

  “I needed to think. Being near the ships makes me feel nearer . . . nearer to him.”

  She was answered by silence, so it surprised her when Charlotte knelt before her, taking Elaina’s hands in hers. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Elaina, how could you do that to us? After what happened to your mother?”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know. And I know this is hard for you, but . . . My darling, we cannot lose you as well. Not the way we lost her.”

  “How did Nicholas find you?” Lydia asked in a small voice.

  Elaina took a deep breath. “He was out as well. I guess he heard me talking to the stars.”

  Charlotte’s eyes somehow got even wider, but before she could speak, Lydia cried out.

  “You told him?”

  “No! No, he deduced it on his own! I swear, I didn’t mean for anyone to—”

  “Elaina!” Lydia ran to her and snatched Elaina’s hands out of her mother’s. “Do you know what this means?” Her face was white. “He can make you do whatever he wants! He can use this against you!”