by Kiki Leach
“Perhaps the king took him someplace once he was found the next morning. Perhaps he transported his body to another country.”
“And for what reason?” I asked.
“To bring him back to life! If Willem isn’t buried there, perhaps no one is. There is no telling what kind of sorcery came about once the king received Willem’s body. My men and I never saw him after the king requested to be alone with it in the chapel. He was placed directly beneath the eye of God, and no one recalled seeing Willem removed or buried, not even his own brother. We only learned of his burial the following day. Nothing in regard to the king’s actions with Willem’s death followed noble tradition --”
“This is absolutely ridiculous,” I shot back.
“No mourning through the streets of Denmark!” he hollered. “For the son of a king!”
“For the king’s bastard!” I paused. “I don’t even understand this. You were so determined to accuse me of slaughtering the man, and now you’ve convinced yourself he may not even be dead?! The very notion of it is impossible! No man can be brought back to life once his heart has been sliced in two by a sword!”
“More insane things have been known to happen within the walls of this palace, Cinderella.”
“Such as you saying my full name for once in place of calling me ‘girl’.”
Just then, lightening struck the ground. I nearly jumped from my own skin and rushed to the tiny window located in the corner of the room, to look upon the outskirts of the palace. I watched a tree branch fall to the ground after having been struck; it cracked as the twigs splattered across the ground. Quite strange of me to even imagine relating to it as I felt I did in that single moment.
I turned back to the Sheriff as he glared at me in a serious manner.
“He is dead,” I told him with certainty. “Willem is gone. There is no way he could have survived what I had done, no sorcery on this earth could bring him back to life. Ever. Whatever game you’re playing, or tricks you’ve planned --”
“No games, Cinder,” he answered, his tone more grave than before. “No tricks. Sorcery may have brought this man back to life.”
I looked out of the window once more and noticed that snow had begun to fall. It came in large snowflakes and began to cover the ground almost as quickly as it fell.
“Cinder --”
“I must go,” I interrupted. “I’m certain the banquet has already begun and I still have no idea if Norvack has even retuned in time for it.”
“Think of what I said.”
I went to the door and looked back as the Sheriff sat back down in his chair. He rested the apple on the arm of it and looked straight ahead.
“Do you truly believe your own insanity? That there is a possibility, by the power of sorcery greater than even God Himself, that Willem may be alive?”
“The stone was not solid into the ground.”
“As I said, there could be many reasons for it.”
“Yes. If one were to dig a temporary, shallow grave.” He took a sip of his drink and sat back.
His words continued to sound completely preposterous. But what struck me as even more so, was the very idea that I began to wonder of the possibility myself.
When I finally arrived to the ballroom, the king and queen had already been introduced to their guests. They stood at the front of the room, welcoming everyone as Eliza began a few words of gratitude, which the king seemed to finish as if he no longer wanted to hear her speak. I could see it upset her, but she attempted to smile through it.
I looked about for Norvack, lifting to the edges of my toes to get even a slight glimpse, and finally saw him across the room, standing alongside Brigita. My entire body tensed as if a sudden chill had swallowed up my bones. I grew concerned and became incensed all at once. I had the giant urge to speed through the crowd and take Norvack away from everyone to demand an explanation for myself. But I knew I couldn’t create such a scene. I was to remain the dutiful wife of a prince. I was to remain dignified in the presence of dignitaries.
As music began to play, the king and queen took to the center of the room. Everyone began clapping as they moved in unison. I turned a bit and immediately noticed John standing across from me, on the other side. He was drinking what appeared to be a sort of dark liquor and staring directly at me as he drank. When he realized I was unwilling to turn away, he arched a brow in Norvack and Brigita’s direction. I looked once more and noticed her giggling, so hard she had to cover her mouth with the edges of her fingers. Norvack was laughing as well, so hard his face nearly turned purple. I glanced over at John again, who was smirking at me. I felt sick to my stomach and knew I needed to leave before I did or said something to someone that I was certain to regret almost immediately after.
I stepped outside of the ballroom to gather my thoughts. When I turned slightly, I saw John attempting to make his way toward me, shuffling through the crowd. I ran off as fast as I could and went outside, back to Willem’s grave.
The Sheriff’s words were too strong for me to ignore. I was certain that he was attempting to fool me, perhaps trick me into something as he so often did despite his telling me otherwise. But for the first time ever, there was a certain sensitivity to his tone. I moved closer to the grave, examining it in a way I hadn’t before. I placed a hand upon the head of the stone and realized that as he said, it was easy to move, almost too easy for someone of my stature.
I read the words ‘adoring son’ beneath his name at front, and stopped as I always did when I felt sickened. Nothing seemed to stand out as strange or odd or even altered from the ordinary aside from the wobbly stone. But then I looked to the left of it, and noticed the tip of something sticking up from the ground. What it was had been practically buried in dirt and snow, but a pointed tip similar to a paper opener shined bright against the moonlight. I bent down to touch it with the edge of my middle finger. As I tried to flick it, I realized a bit more of it may have been buried a bit deeper. I wiped the snow away as best as I could, and began digging until there was enough for me to pull out using just a few fingers.
Once the object was out of the ground, I realized it was an entire blade, chipped around the edges and missing its handle, which one could only assume was made from gold. I was startled as I looked down at it, flashing back to that night in the forest. I immediately dropped it then, and stood. I looked around to see if anyone else had followed me, and when I realized they hadn’t, I picked the blade up again and headed back inside the palace and to the Sheriff’s room.
It seemed as if he was already waiting for me when I arrived. I didn’t even need to knock as he had opened the door upon hearing my footsteps. Unconsciously thinking, I tossed the blade onto the bed and rested my hands upon my waist.
“This is some kind of sick game!”
He squint. “I told you, this isn’t a game of any sort.” He looked down and saw the blade. “Where did you find that?”
“Buried next to Willem’s headstone. You said you were out there again. How am I to know that you didn’t place this there at some point? Despite your attempts to frighten me into believing Willem as a real live ghost, that isn’t the same blade I used to --”
“Kill him?” He walked over to his bag and reached deep inside. He pulled out a long sweater and then began unwrapping it as if he were unwrapping a gift for a child, delicate yet excitedly. I realized quite quickly that what he was preparing for me was a sword. He pointed the tip upward and then placed it alongside the blade on the bed, the latter of which looked like a needle in comparison. “This was your sword,” he said, glaring down at it. “I kept it. Not for moments like this, but as insurance in case something were to happen to me.”
“In case I were to slaughter you.”
“That as well.”
I dropped back and placed a hand on my chest. “If you never did this, then someone else is attempting to play me for a fool.”
“Who would waste such time, Cinderella, when going to the king an
d reaping the rewards is much greater than seeing a girl, princess or otherwise, be played for a fool?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “You said that more insane things have been known to happen.” I looked down at the blades again. My fingers traced the initials of Norvack’s sword.
“Has he returned for the banquet?” the Sheriff asked.
“Yes.”
“You chose to return to Willem’s grave instead?”
“Yes.”
“Why not choose to be with your husband?”
“Because he would rather be with someone else at the moment. Perhaps you were right after all.” I stepped back toward the door and placed my hand on the knob. “I need time alone. I need to process many things tonight and I cannot do that in a ballroom filled with practical strangers or in here with you. If you’re in need of me, it must wait until much later in the evening or tomorrow as Brigita is participating in the banquet tonight.”
Hours passed as I sat near the balcony in my chambers, watching more snowfall. Carriages were covered in large flakes as were their horses.
“Where were you?” I heard a voice say from behind.
I turned to see Brigita coming toward me.
“I was here,” I said. “I have been here.”
“Why? Everyone was in search of you.”
“Everyone?”
She nodded. “Eliza asked for your presence many times, as did Norvack.”
“Did he? Well, how thoughtful of him to question the whereabouts of his wife.”
“Shall I inform him that you are up here?”
“No,” I told her. “If he wishes to find me, he shall. Frankly, it’s a surprise to me that he even realized I was missing. Especially with all the time he must have spent parading with you for most of the evening.”
She dropped her head, moving it from side to side, appearing both shameful and embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed, her hands were shaking. “Mistress -- ”
“I don’t mean to be as crass as this shall sound, but I must know if you are sleeping with my husband.”
Her head shot up and her mouth dropped a little. She closed it upon realizing the shock that crossed her face was filling me with copious amounts of doubt.
“Cinder,” she said with a slightly fearful grin and laugh.
I stepped closer, looking her directly in the eyes. I never smiled, nor broke contact, though she remained grinning and tore her eyes from mine as often as she could, darting them around the room as if to admire the decorum.
I swallowed hard and reached for her face, clasping her chin between my thumb and forefinger and turning her face toward mine. Her eyes enlarged in complete panic, and became watery as she looked down at my hand. She jerked back from me, stumbling as she moved away. I gradually dropped my hand to the front of my gown and exhaled.
“Are you having sex with my husband?”
“I am your greatest confidant,” she said.
“And his. You were his greatest confidant before we ever knew one another, before I leapt into your house that night. He has said he knows me better than I know myself. Do you know him better than he knows himself, Brigita? He once claimed the king knew him better than anyone, and I told him he was wrong.” I leaned aside. “I had no idea how wrong he was.”
“You are not seeing things as they are,” she began.
“Am I not? Am I wrong in saying that you are now his greatest confidant? That if you were a man, you would stand beside him in battle? That if you were his wife, you’d never leave his side within the estates?”
“You are his wife.”
“I am,” I replied confidently. “And yet you very well may be his concubine.”
“I would never betray you, Cinder,” she snapped. “I would never betray you in that way, even if he desired it --”
“Even if?” I arched my brows. Hearing those words from her was like a stab to the heart with the sharpest blade known to man. I nearly keeled over in the center of the room. “Even. If.”
“He has never said as much to me.”
“He has never had to,” I said. “The way he looks at you is enough. I know that he admires your beauty and softness. And I know that you don’t present a challenge to him as I do, and you obey every command with a curtsey and wide grin upon your full, rose colored lips.”
“He would never look at me as he stares at you. And.” She exhaled, her breath shaking. “I believe the prince wishes for a challenge, only the challenge you present, Mistress.” She took in another breath and closed her eyes. “You are the love of his life, the bearer of his children.”
“And what are you?”
Her eyes popped open but she refused to answer.
We studied one another’s expressions and gestures or lack thereof, until she finally broke away and moved toward the bed. Her fingers gripped the posts; she glared at them and began shaking her head again.
“I would never betray you, Princess.”
“You’ve said,” I replied. I stepped over and enfolded my hands. “Has he approached you?”
She whirled around. “No, never.”
“Never. Not once, even before I moved into the palace and became his wife?”
“No.”
“Then he must have known you would turn him down. Because my husband never knew a woman who was as beautiful as you are that he didn’t wish to lure into his chambers at least once. Not even as a boy?”
“Everyone knew of his love for you, Mistress. I knew it from the very beginning before anyone had suspected. If I were to be with him, even once, I would have been seen as nothing more than a --”
“Concubine,” I interjected. “Or common whore as I was to John.”
She diverted her eyes and gulped.
“I don’t mean to insult you,” I said, though by now I wasn’t even sure myself if that was the intent or not. I looked down and puckered my brows. “Were you ever in love with him?”
“Cinder.” Norvack’s strong, harsh voice crept up behind me, disrupting us. His heavy feet slid across the floor and he pressed himself against me. I turned aside, but didn’t need to see his face.
Brigita tore her gaze and curtsied in an instant. “Prince Norvack.”
He bowed. “I need to speak with my wife in private,” he told her.
I spun around to watch her, though Norvack’s large stature blocked much of my view. I glanced into his eyes momentarily before peeking over his shoulder to focus on Brigita. She glared at each of us, taking longer to stare at me, before closing the door behind her.
“How did you ever know I would be here?”
“What were you doing with her?” he asked, his tone deepening.
I grinned and cocked my head. “No more than you may have ever done.”
I moved away from him and crossed the room.
His eyes followed my every move. “Meaning?”
“Meaning…” I glanced back at him as he stared at me. His expression was curious, as if he knew the reason, but was daring me to say it aloud. I dropped my head and lowered my shoulders. I pressed my fingers to my lips and squeezed my eyes shut. “Nothing,” I muttered. “I meant nothing at all.”
I couldn’t say what I felt or what I was thinking. It was as if some kind of dreadful life force was keeping me from it.
I pressed my hands together and placed them beneath my chin. “What are you doing up here? It’s your parent’s ‘anniversary’ and neither of us is currently in attendance.”
He grinned from ear to ear. “I came in search of my wife,” he answered.
“Did you?”
He locked the door, then turned slightly, peeking at me from the corner of his eye. “I wished to find, and be alone with you.”
I took a deep breath. “Why now instead of last night? You never came to bed.”
“I needed time to think. I needed time away from --”
“Me.”
“No.” He looked as if he wanted to continue on, but stopped and moved in, taking my face in h
is hands. He lifted my chin and our eyes met for a moment, before he looked down at my lips, and began caressing with his thumbs. “My favorite girl.”
I closed my eyes, inhaling him. I remained helpless, weak to his advances.
“What do you wish for, my future king?”
“I wish for you. Always you. Only you.” He dropped his hands down to my throat and glided his fingertips down the front of my gown to my breasts. He palmed each one, holding them as if they were as delicate as flower petals, and just as soft. And then he circled my nipples with the edges of his thumbs, forcing them to rise and harden.
I moaned in delight and bit my lip. Then I opened my eyes and backed away, turning from him. I wanted him so desperately and he knew it, but I couldn’t continue to show how much. Would he be with me because he wished? Or because he couldn’t have her?
“Norvack.”
“Cinder.” He moved in behind, pulling me to him, his cock growing in size the longer I remained pressed against him. I turned my head a little and he gently shoved his face into my hair, breathing deeply, reveling my scent. “Lilacs,” he muttered, his breath hitting parts of my skin. “My favorite.”
His hands slid inside the front of my gown. His warm fingers on my cool flesh sent a wave of shivers up and down my spine. My heart fluttered, my sweetest spot ached for him inside me.
He moved his lips down to my ear and extended his tongue, circling it around the lobe. I gasped as he massaged me with his fingers and tasted my skin with such pleasure. And I knew in that moment that he wanted me. Me.
I spun around on my toes and dove my fingers into the soft curls of his hair, tracing the tips of my nails around his scalp. I missed him. He lowered his lips down toward mine without touching and I could feel the warmth of his breath as it coated my tongue. It tasted like peppermint, as always. I circled the tip of my tongue around the edge of my lips and then leaned forward to kiss him. As our lips met, I felt myself melting into his flesh, as if we were becoming one. We melded together perfectly. The kiss was sensual, seductive. He moved his hands down to my arse, squeezing hard and jerking me against his rock solid cock as his tongue invaded and explored every desirable inch of my mouth, fluttering, licking, tasting, pressing against my own. I whimpered between his lips as his tongue became more intense and I felt his fingers trailing around my waist.
