When they finally stopped in the shelter of the forest, Cinderella slid from Princess’s back and fell to her knees. The damp soil squished beneath her.
“Your Highness?” Amie dismounted Princess. The satchel swung from her wrist.
“I killed them,” Cinderella said flatly. The drowning sensation took over her emotions. She felt numb and cold and limp inside. Struggling seemed useless against so much weight, so much destruction she had caused. Geoffrey was dead. Eolande was dead. Now the children. All because of her selfish choices. She gasped and leaned forward. “What have I done, Amie? The children. All those women. How could I have killed them? Kale said it’s because I don’t know how to control my magic, but you knew, Amie. You knew I could make mistakes like this. Why did you teach me that spell?” Another gasp left her mouth. “No, no, I’m sorry. It wasn’t you. It was me. Everything has been my fault. I... I can’t—”
“Who is Kale, Your Highness? Is he the one you love?”
She looked away as tears streamed down her face. “Yes, but I don’t know what I feel anymore. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to blame you. I was so angry with the soldier for murdering Marion. I wanted to help the children, not harm them, but the spell felt like swords leaving my body. It was all wrong. I should have known performing it inside the castle would cause nothing but death... for everyone, not just the soldier. I thought it would kill only him. I made a horrible mistake.” She turned to look at Princess, who was blindingly white in the dark forest. The trees were oddly wet and looming, their trunks covered with thick moss.
“I will try to find some dry wood, Your Highness,” Amie said with a crack in her voice. She turned and walked away, her shoulders drooping like the tree limbs.
Cinderella covered her face and wept. She saw flowers in her mind, wilted and brown. She would never forgive herself for what she had done. She didn’t know what she had become, or if there was a way out. At this point, she wasn’t sure she wanted a way out.
When Amie returned, she stacked the wood in a pile and muttered something through her teeth. A small spark started the first flame.
“I thought you weren’t allowed to perform magic,” Cinderella said. She looked down at her muddy dress. Her hair was loose and stringy. It felt sticky on the back of her neck.
“I do not think it will matter soon.”
Silence spread between them. Cinderella looked at the growing flames. She had killed Geoffrey because she had panicked. She had killed the children because of anger and fear, and she had killed Eolande because she was too much of a coward to stand up for her. There was no choice now but to move forward. This was clear now as she stood and opened her satchel. She pulled out the fur shoes and threw them into the fire and then walked around the burning pile as the flames singed the cream bows, disintegrating them to cinders. When the shoes began to shrivel she uttered the first word the sprite had taught her, keeping her slow pace as she pulled out the vial of blood and removed the cork. She hadn’t thought to bring any wine. She raised the vial to her mouth.
The blood was thick and tepid down her throat and she tried not to choke. She spluttered out the next word and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. A streak of red shone brightly on her skin from her knuckles to her wrist. She threw the vial into the fire where it burst into shards.
Amie approached her and held out the tiny jewel bag. “Your Highness.”
She took the bag and rolled an opalescent pearl into her palm. It was perfectly round except for a dent where Isabel must have dug it from the crown. At the thought of Isabel dead, she cringed.
“Some stones, Your Highness?’
Kneeling, Cinderella took the rocks Amie held out to her. One was flat, and she set the pearl on its surface and looked numbly at white against black. Gathering her courage, she cried out the last word of the spell as she crushed the pearl with the other rock. Rowland filled her mind. She felt his last kiss on her lips, his soft words, I love you, Christina. He was so noble. He could never love her now without the aid of magic. Could Kale love her?
When she looked up at Amie, the woman’s face had grown pale and wet with tears. The ground began to shake. “Your Highness....”
Cinderella wobbled over the trembling ground. “What’s happening?”
Amie backed away. “It’s working, but I do not know how far it will go.”
White light filled Cinderella’s vision, blinding her. She stumbled to the ground and pulled at the dirt and roots and screamed as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. The sprite hadn’t told her anything like this would happen. Kale’s voice came to her mind. She saw the meadow and heard his music. She longed to touch him, but he disappeared. Rowland came to her next, lying beaten on the dirt, his crown broken in two. He whispered her name, and she saw vines. She opened her eyes to black smoke and the acrid stench of burning fur.
Hours seemed to pass. In her blindness, she cried out for Amie, but there was no answer. Lying still, she waited for her heart to slow its pace, and when she cried out again, a cool hand touched her forehead.
Kale’s voice said, “Breathe, Cinderella,” and her lungs filled with air and the darkness lifted. She saw his face and messy hair.
“You’re here,” she whispered.
“Yes.” He stroked her forehead above her eye and helped her sit up. “You performed the spell—the bond is broken.”
She looked around the clearing. Princess was munching on grass. Amie was sitting on a log and had her head in her hands. Cinderella looked back to Kale. “How long have I been on the ground?”
“Not long.”
“Is Amie all right?”
“For now.”
She lifted her hand to his face. She thought of her mother’s dresses and the lilac perfume and Rowland brushing her hair. “What’s going to happen?” she asked. Her hand stiffened against his cheek. She had no idea what was left for her now.
“Nothing, Cinderella. You broke the bond, but you’ve forged another, and there’s nothing to be done.”
“A bond with you—that was the plan.”
“Not with me. I wanted your heart to stay with mine, but it didn’t. I could still bond with you if I wished, but it is clear you do not care for me in the way I need you to care for me. Our bond would be frail and unsatisfying to either of us. It would never last.” He pulled her hand away from his cheek and placed it against her own chest, closing his fingers around hers.
She felt the steady thumps of her heart. Her skin was damp and hot. “But you’re wrong. I will learn to love you the way you need.”
Kale closed his eyes. “I can sense him,” he said, and the luster beneath his skin brightened, creating a white radiance through the clearing. “I can sense him strong inside you. You have fallen in love with him, and there is nothing to be done for me and you. The bond I wished to have with you is the strongest bond with the elves. It cannot exist while you love another so deeply.” His skin brightened even more. His fingers trembled. “You... you never truly loved me. I tried so hard to convince myself otherwise. The true love you felt has always been for him.”
She knew he meant Rowland, but she was too frightened to think about him. King Osborne’s men weren’t the merciful type, and she imagined a blade red with Rowland’s blood. Her mouth still tasted of blood. She gasped for air and focused on the tight knot between Kale’s closed eyes.
“He remains with you, but his spirit is gone from this earth,” he whispered. “It is too late for me, for you, for Amie.”
“For Amie?” She looked behind her shoulder where Amie stared ashen-faced at her and Kale.
Kale said, “Amie has suffered for decisions she made long ago. Now both of you must return to the castle.”
“The castle? But they’ll kill—”
“No, you will be safe.”
“What about you? The spell—”
“I must leave. I am sorry this did not work, that it has caused you pain.” He lowered his eyes. “I should have seen the love buildin
g in your heart for him. I mistook it as affection for me, and for that I am sorry.”
She pushed his hand away from hers and stood up. She swayed and stumbled, but caught her balance before he could reach out to catch her. “I feel something strong for Rowland, yes,” she said with anger in her voice. Kale stood still, watching her. “What does that have to do with anything? I don’t want to be a queen. I don’t want to make decisions that change other people’s lives.” She tapped her chest and backed away. “My life is enough!” The fire had died now, and all that was left of her fur shoes was a pile of ashes tinged with orange heat.
Kale tilted his head. “Then why did you want to marry the prince?”
“I didn’t!” She backed farther away. Her mind filled with Eolande’s first visits and how she had spoken of a better life filled with love and comfort. It had been so easy to make the decision when Rose was whipping her calves and working her to the bone. Any life sounded better than the one she had, and when Eolande had suggested the prince, her decision was simple. Rose could never touch her again. Lucy and Edith’s jealousy would taste sweet. A comfortable life was guaranteed. She looked at the disappointment in Kale’s eyes and shook her head. “I didn’t know what I was choosing. It was exactly what I thought it would be, and then it wasn’t, and then I remembered you.”
He nodded. “I know you did. It brought me back to you.”
“You had been gone for so long. How was I to know you would come back? You didn’t seem real.”
“What you felt was real.”
She squinted up at the foliage where the sun filtered through like thick prison bars. She looked back at Kale. “Why can’t this work? I sacrificed everything for you. People have died.” Her bottom lip quivered.
“Did you sacrifice everything for me or for yourself? Who were you thinking of when you performed the spell? I told you to follow your heart, and you have. I believe you are avoiding the truth because you know he is gone now. You wanted to break the spell for him, not me.”
Her throat tightened as she remembered his words about following her heart. That is stronger than any spell...
“You loved the thought of me,” he said. “I loved the thought of us, and that is not common for my kind. You’re meant for great things, Cinderella. You have chosen your path, and I must leave.” He took a step backward as sadness filled his face. Light surrounded him as he turned and walked away through the trees. In a moment, he was gone.
“Your Highness, are you all right?” Amie asked.
Cinderella hardly heard her as she looked at the space Kale had occupied. He was correct. She had loved the thought of him—the idea of love untainted—but would he have been any different than Rowland in that respect? Magic still surrounded him. She would not have been free of it. Perhaps his love for her was untainted by magic, but that didn’t seem as if it mattered anymore. He would never have been what she truly wanted—creating her own strength and happiness instead of relying on someone to give it to her. But she wasn’t sure if that was possible.
Turning, she faced Amie. “We must travel back to the castle.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Amie bowed her head and sniffed. “I am sorry he left you.”
Pain pulsed through Cinderella’s heart. Every moment ached. Everything had gone wrong.
Princess was sluggish for the ride back to the castle. She was hesitant to once again gallop around the bodies strewn across the fields. Amie clutched Cinderella’s waist as they rode. Her hot tears landed on Cinderella’s neck, but Cinderella didn’t look back. Instead, she searched frantically for Rowland. She forced Princess to slow down and take a longer route home than was necessary—if she could call the castle home. She realized now that her heart had felt most centered when Rowland was with her, but that was over now. Kale had said he was gone, and she held fast to Princess’s mane and tried to forget that Rowland had picked out and named the beautiful mare just for her. He had chosen the shells for her hair. He had given her strength. He had given her everything and she had thrown it away.
A line of sword-bearing riders guarded the castle gates. Cinderella tensed as she noticed their unfamiliar uniforms decorated with another kingdom’s crest. Osborne’s crest. Mounted on their horses, the soldiers looked tired and worn as Cinderella approached them. Her heart felt heavy after her search for Rowland, but she doubted they would leave the prince lying on the field. If he was dead, he was probably inside the castle.
“Princess, you are asked for by King Osborne,” one of the soldiers said when she stopped near the main entrance. He held his sword unsheathed, but put it away when she lowered her head in submission. There was no use in resisting or screaming a spell.
She allowed two guards to help her and Amie down from Princess and escort them across the main drawbridge.
“I do not understand why they have kept you alive,” Amie whispered as they stepped inside the castle.
“I’m not of royal blood—not by birth,” she answered. “I’ve been thinking about it since the soldier killed the queen, and that’s my only conclusion. It can’t be the magic. I just now broke the spell and there’s nothing left. My heart feels like the strings between me and Rowland have been snipped.” She didn’t dare say aloud that one string still felt intact, stronger than any of the others had been. It ached as it tugged and stretched her emotions.
King Osborne sat on William’s throne. A young man, whom Cinderella guessed to be Osborne’s son, sat on Rowland’s throne. He was older than Rowland. There was hardness in his face that stiffened Cinderella’s spine. She lowered herself into a curtsey before the king.
“Your Majesty,” she said in a trembling voice. “You have conquered this kingdom, and I must do as you bid.”
“Rise, Princess. You need not bow before me.” He lifted his hand and she straightened to look into a weathered, sun-beaten face still flecked with blood from the battle. His eyes were a pale blue, so light and clear that they pierced through her. She blinked.
“Your Majesty, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say nothing. I have heard talk of your beauty and peculiar marriage to Prince Rowland. I knew this kingdom needed direction long ago, but marrying you to the prince was the best decision William made. You’re young and untarnished.”
She glanced at the man on Rowland’s throne. She knew what was coming. That was why she had been spared—to wed the new prince.
“I wish to see my husband,” she said angrily. Her hands balled into fists at her side. “You have killed him.”
“Sadly, he perished in the attack. He lies in the chapel beside his parents, God rest their souls.”
She squeezed her hands into tighter balls, digging her fingernails into her palms. “Is this the new power? To rule with an iron fist soaked in blood?”
Osborne stood. He was a strong man built mostly of muscle, not plump like William. He stepped down to bring his face level with Cinderella’s. “Princess, I will excuse your ignorance of your dying kingdom. Under William’s rule, the people suffered from his iron fist, as you say, and although not soaked in blood, it was quietly fierce and unjust.” His eyes were more piercing now as he straightened to his full height. “I conquered your kingdom to begin a new dawn.” He gestured to his son. “Under Alden’s reign. You will be his queen, and together you will bring peace.”
She held her breath as Osborne lifted his hands and placed them gently on her shoulders. “I see peace in you. The old woman was right.”
“Old woman?” She swallowed. “Eolande?”
“Yes, I understand William had her executed. That doesn’t surprise me. I believe she was the last of her kind, and I’m saddened when I think of her death.”
She tried to keep her shoulders steady beneath his grip, but failed. Her entire body seemed to shrink under his strength. It surprised her that he might be familiar with magic, but it didn’t surprise her that he had known Eolande. The old woman had cast a magical net over Cinderella’s entire future, and she remembered
Amie’s words about Eolande choosing her because of the magic within her—a magic which felt unwanted and spoiled now.
“I didn’t want her executed,” she said with heaviness in her voice.
Osborne nodded. His hands tightened around her shoulders and then he let go. “Retire to your chambers, and then you may mourn your family in the chapel. You may take the time you need before the marriage— months, if need be.”
She tightened her jaw and looked at Prince Alden. He smiled softly, but it seemed a great effort for him to do so. Everything about him appeared rough—from his scuffed, muddy boots to the well-used sword at his side. His hair was long and curly, caked with dirt, and although Cinderella thought his face pleasant enough, his half-grown beard made him too coarse.
She understood she didn’t have a choice when it came to the marriage. She thought of the blade piercing Marion’s body and realized how much dedication the woman had devoted to her duty as a queen. When Cinderella had chosen to marry Rowland, she had not only chosen a companion, but a duty she could not toss aside if she respected herself. For this reason, she kept her anger in check. She could not be upset with Osborne for correcting what she herself had seen as a problem. She thought of the people in her old village, of Rose and the land she had not been able to keep because, most likely, William’s outrageous taxes had made it impossible for her to run it efficiently. The crown on her head stood for everything she could change, and she realized for the first time that its weight was not a burden, but an honor. It was a way to correct the mistakes she had made, a way to grow beyond herself.
“Thank you for you kindness, Majesty,” she said with a short curtsey. “I will do what I can to bring peace to this kingdom.”
Osborne lifted her chin with his chapped hand. “You will be a fine queen.” He took her hand and led her to Prince Alden, who stood and bowed at the waist.
“It is an honor to meet you,” he said in a strangely smooth voice. He took her hand and put his lips to her fingers. His breath was sour and damp, his mouth the texture of bark. All she could think of was Rowland’s polished appearance and clean hands on her body. Even after battle, he hadn’t repulsed her. The thought of him lying cold and dead split her heart in two. She ground her teeth together to try to push back her tears. For an instant, she wanted to unsheathe Alden’s sword and run it straight through him.
Bonded: Three Fairy Tales, One Bond Page 11
