I didn’t even want to allow myself to think about the worst-case scenario. No, I refused to even consider that Tia might already be dead and that my enemies would drop off her body at the footstep of Daydream.
Disgust roiled through me, and I wanted to hit myself. If something happened to Tia, it would be nobody’s fault but my own.
“Candidates, do you understand the task?” Mr. Goodwin asked in his booming bass voice, tearing me out of my self-flagellation.
I cursed underneath my breath. How could I have missed what the assignment was? I might not care about my costume disadvantage, but I still needed to win this competition or at least progress far enough to perform in front of the king and tell him that I had found Queen Ella working as a maid in Madam’s kitchen before she vanished. Maybe the queen was being held where Tia was. But even if they weren’t together, I needed to save the queen. All kinds of bad things had been happening in our kingdom since she had left the king, and they had only escalated when she had disappeared from Madam’s Boarding House.
Thankfully, there were seven candidates in front of me, which meant I should get the hang of what we were supposed to do before it was my turn.
Thus, I didn’t ask for clarification but simply smiled as I was handed a note sheet. I supposed they wanted to see if we could sing a song without any preparation, but I soon learned that it was not that simple. I hadn’t been given just any song, but a rock song. I had heard it a few times, and neither the style, genre, nor vocal range fit my voice. My stomach cramped. Certainly, they didn’t expect me to sing this? Unfortunately, my fears were confirmed when the first candidate stumbled forward to the microphone and began singing an extremely difficult song with an octave range that she wasn’t anywhere close to being able to conquer.
The audience booed and whispered when the poor girl failed to hit the high and the low notes. Even though I wanted to look away, I forced myself to study her, noticing that her outfit wasn’t much better than mine. Her simple black and white dress was unremarkable compared to the lace, silk, and fur trimmings other candidates wore.
Was our competition host, Mr. Goodwin, in charge of assigning outfits and songs? If so, someone must’ve paid him a hefty sum to create such an unequal competition.
I sure wanted to have a word with him after the performance and didn’t feel any qualms about using my voice to compel him to tell me the truth. Not that it would do me any good. Even if I could prove that someone had paid him off, whom I strongly suspected were the Fontaine sisters, my statement wouldn’t hold much weight. The audience would simply view me as a disgruntled, disqualified performer who was stirring up trouble.
The second guy did much better, which didn’t surprise me since his baby blues and low-cut white shirts that exposed his muscular chest basically screamed man candy. His song “Fifth Flame” fit him vocally, and every female in the audience swooned with several yelling, “Derryl, marry me!” after he finished.
The third and fourth candidates didn’t stand out in a bad or good way, and I guessed that they had flown under the Fontaine sisters’ radar.
Number five had definitely been sabotaged. The guy was given an extremely girly song, and both the sleeves and pantlegs on his suit were a few inches too short, giving him an odd appearance. The sixth candidate was all right but didn’t hold a candle to number seven, Hendrix Cash. In his rock ‘n roll leather pants and torn shirt, Hendrix belted out a song about freedom that was exactly his style. I sighed. Seriously, not only was I given a shitty outfit and song, they also had to put me next to someone who excelled in the genre I was going to fail. As Mr. Rockstar was about to finish, I glanced at the sisters to my right side. Even though there were two people between us, I caught them whisper, “Good luck failing, loser.”
I gritted my teeth at the confirmation that they were behind this. Apparently, fake voices alone weren’t enough anymore for them to bolster themselves up. Now, they were taking me down underhandedly.
It was disgusting. But if they thought their little stunt would send me packing or make me quit, they had the wrong girl.
I would transform the dirty stone they had given me into a diamond. While the other seven people had performed, a strategy had formed in my mind.
As I sashayed forward, I winked at the Fontaine sisters, whose foreheads knitted at my positive mood. “Citizens of Arcadia,” I began. “As you might’ve noticed, tonight’s competition has a special flavor to it. Some of the performers have received a song that is favorable to their style and vocal range as well as amazing and beautiful outfits.” I paused to let that sink in before adding, “Congratulations, Derryl and Hendrix.” The females in the audience cheered. “Other singers, however, haven’t been as fortunate and were given songs that didn’t fit them and outfits that did nothing for them.” I glanced briefly at all the candidates who had failed of no fault of their own and were now too ashamed to even meet my gaze.
I stepped to the edge of the stage and motioned at myself. “You can guess from my simple pants and shirt that I belong in the second category. I also pulled a short stick with my assigned song.”
Several people in the audience shifted uncomfortably from leg to leg while others began whispering.
“But I won’t let that hold me back. Tonight, I might look like a bookkeeper, but I’m going to rock your world. That is, as long as you’ll let me.”
Mr. Goodman advanced toward me. “What are you doing?” he hissed.
“What am I doing, Mr. Goodman?” I said loudly into the microphone, making a vein in his forehead pulse violently. “Why, Mr. Goodman, I thought it would be the right thing to do to inform the audience about what game they’re witnessing.”
He snatched the microphone out of my hand and said in a trembling voice, “Miss Bright, you are here to sing, not to showcase your opinions. Perhaps you got confused, but this is not one of our interviews. This round is a pure singing portion.”
“Oh, I understand very well.” I leaned into the microphone, fluttering my eyelashes innocently.
“So will you sing, or are you forfeiting your entry?”
“I’ll perform. I like a good challenge.” I grabbed the microphone from him and saluted the Fontaine sisters before turning to the audience. “Let’s rock ‘n roll!” I pointed at the musicians, who sat with their mouths wide open. “Hit it, boys!”
The drummer started up, followed by the bass.
Day in, day out, it’s all the same. I’m feeling dead on the inside, I breathed in a husky voice, but now, it’s time to break out!”I ripped off the top button of my blouse and rolled up my sleeves, which garnered me “woohoos!”
I won’t be no prisoner to the system no more, yeah, no more.
I jumped across the stage and threw my head back and forth, and the audience went wild, joining into my shenanigans by jumping up and down, pumping their fists into the air.
I’m breaking free from the chains you put on me. I’m getting out right now and setting sail toward a new shore.
I strummed an imaginary guitar before motioning for the audience to sing with me. I ran up and down the stage, high fiving the people closest to me before returning to the middle of the stage and belting out the final lines.
Was my performance perfect? No.
Did I suddenly transform into a rock goddess? No.
But I was having fun, and the crowd could tell. My energy was contagious.
I might not know how to do any fancy strokes, but when thrown into the deep end, I would paddle for my life. Every. Single. Time.
The bass player hit his final note, and I bowed deeply. “Thank you for indulging me and allowing me to be your rock star tonight.” My hair was wild, my shirt was torn, and for a moment, I truly felt like a rock star.
Shooting Mr. Goodwin a sweet smile, I handed the microphone back to him and wrapped his fingers around it since he looked like he was about to drop it. My performance had left him speechless, requiring his assistant, Henry, to step in. Nervously, Henry l
eaned into the microphone. “Thank you, Halia Bright. Now, please welcome…”
I was riding my wave of adrenaline high for the next two performances until the stepsisters came on.
Their dresses complimented each other. One of the sisters wore a dress made of a white satin material in the front and black lace at the back, while the other one had black satin in the front and white lace in the back. The costumes were gorgeous but did nothing for their broad figures, while their heavy, smoky eye makeup only highlighted their annoyance as they took the stage for what I guessed was a duet.
However, Acacia’s magic succeeded once again as the sisters opened their mouths and sang a love song, their voices mesmerizing. The crowd swayed, pure adoration in their gazes. The citizens might’ve found me entertaining and had crushed hard on Deryll and Hendrix, but they were one hundred percent under the sisters’ spell. I wouldn’t be surprised if they believed that the sisters were the most gracious, beautiful, and talented women they had ever seen. Whatever magic Acacia had bestowed upon them, it seemed boundless. She was an ocean backing the sisters, while my efforts were a drop of water in the desert.
Exhaustion and frustration overwhelmed me, but I didn’t have the luxury to curl up into a ball or hide underneath my bed covers. I needed to be strong. Tonight, all I had to do was progress into the next round. Then, I could figure out how to break Acacia’s magic. But had my performance been good enough for me to make it into the next round? There were twelve of us. Only six would get to continue.
The crowd yelled, “Georgette and Bernadette, we love you!” while the sisters blew air kisses. The judges scribbled furiously on their scrolls, their foreheads furrowed, their lips pressed together tightly. Finally, they put down their quills. Henry collected the scorecards and delivered them to Mr. Goodwin, who hesitated before speaking into the microphone. “Thank you, everyone, for coming here today to support our competitors.” His hand trembled as he glanced down on the scrolls. “I’m excited to announce the best six singers who will be progressing into the next round, which will be held at the castle, in front of our king and his court.”
Whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. Normally, the annual competition lasted much longer, providing entertainment for several months.
Mr. Goodwin must’ve caught onto the souring of the mood because he quickly added. “In light of everything that has happened recently, we had to cut the competition short, but our gracious king has decided to make all the concert public this year. Thus, while the next and final competition will be held at court, everyone is invited to come and watch.”
A moment of shocked silence followed his declaration before the crowd broke out into thunderous applause. I, however, didn’t like this development one bit. It was nice to make the competition and our ruler more accessible to everyone, most citizens had never been inside the castle’s walls, but allowing so many people into the castle was asking for trouble. It would be easy for the fae and other magic wielders to slip in. If the leader was planning an attack, there would be no better time to strike the king than when he and his citizens were exposed. What was the king thinking? Or perhaps it hadn’t been his idea at all. I studied Mr. Goodwin. What else had he done besides rigging the competition in the Fontaine sisters’ favor? What bargain had he struck with Madam?
Mr. Goodwin patted his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief and continued. “The finale will be held in five days on the tenth of August. There will be two parts to the competition. In the first half, the top six that progress today will be whittled down to three who will compete to become Arcadia’s champion.”
The crowd cheered, too excited to get to witness the grand finale to worry about why the timeline had been hiked up. The only concerned face was Thomas’s, and I made a mental note to ask the new head of the guards about the accelerated timeline and why today’s performance had taken place this morning instead of the night before as it had been originally planned.
“With our results in, I ask you to give a big round of applause to our winners.” Mr. Goodwin’s thick knuckles were white as he clutched the microphone, and every cell in my body tensed.
I had to make it to the top six. Even if I didn’t win this competition, I needed to get to make it to the next round. I needed to tell the king that the last time I had seen Queen Ella, she had been underneath Madam Fontaine’s spell. I needed his counsel on how to find the queen, and maybe I would even find the courage to ask him if I had been the adopted child Ella had given up out of fear of her stepmother.
“Continuing this journey are: Deryll Mortimer,”—Mr. Goodwin nodded at the heartbreaker while my gut clenched—“and Hendrix Cash.” Unsurprising, given that the two female favorite hotties represented the good boy and the bad boy, heartmender and heartbreaker.
“Also continuing are Georgette and Bernadette Fontaine.”
As the sisters blew more air kisses, I gritted my teeth and swore I would expose them.
“As well as Lana Shay.” A beauty stepped forward, and I recognized her from newspaper sketches. She had been singing for years and shouldn’t be in this competition.
“And the final spot goes to…” Mr. Goodwin paused, and my legs trembled, ready to give out. “The final spot goes to Halia Bright.”
Starbursts exploded in my heart. I had made it.
Before I could enjoy my win, Georgette stomped on my toe with her heel. I clamped my mouth shut. Nobody had seen her stunt, and if I screamed, I would only appear crazy.
“You squirreled your way in this time, maid. Next time, you won’t be as lucky,” she hissed.
Bernadette crushed my other toe. “Stop making everything harder on yourself. You think ill-chosen songs and bad outfits are all we can do? If you know what’s best for you, you’ll drop out of this competition.”
Rage bubbled up in me, urging me to shove the sisters to the ground. But if I lost my cool, I would be arrested. Again. Thomas had dismissed the charges the sister had filed against me last time, but if I did anything publicly to them, there was no way I could escape jail. Thus, all I did was grit my teeth harder and imagine how sweet revenge would taste once I took down the sisters and their mother. They could push me down, but I wouldn’t stay down.
“Do you understand?” Bernadette hissed.
“I do.”
She smiled, pure satisfaction on her face, completely unaware that she had awoken the fighter in me who would battle until her last breath. This was war, and I would win.
As soon as we were dismissed, and after the sisters walked off the stage—the last thing I needed was them pushing me down the stairs—I hurried toward Thomas.
“Thomas, may I have a word?” I asked when I caught up with him, shooting Lorenzo a look that said, “stay back.” My chances of getting information out of the new head of the guards were much better alone than when accompanied by a demon.
“Halia.” Thomas’ surprise turned into a warm smile. “You did well up there. Even though I would lay off Mr. Goodwin.”
I chuckled. “Can you blame me when he made me perform in this?”
Thomas’s gaze slid down my shirt and pants, and behind him, Lorenzo’s jaw tightened, and he looked ready to launch himself at Thomas. I shook my head slightly and then put my arm on Thomas’ shoulder, singing above a whisper, “Why was today’s competition postponed, and why was the rest of the competition cut short?”
Thomas blinked a few times as if trying to get dust out of his eyes. “The king,” he finally said, “His Majesty needed more time before today’s announcement.”
“Which one?”
“About cutting the competition short and allowing anyone into the palace.”
I went very still. “Did someone force him?”
Thomas nodded, then shook his head. “I think so.”
“Why? How?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his eyes, fighting my influence, and I released him.
“Thank you,” I said brightly, knowing my smile didn’t reach m
y eyes. “I can use all the luck I can get to win this competition.” I waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd. Lorenzo fell into step with me once we were out of the patrolmen’s earshot.
“Thomas is on our side,” I said as I met Lorenzo’s intense violet-green glare.
“Thomas is doing his job. He’s on the king’s side.”
I sighed. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“You can’t trust him.” Lorenzo’s jaw was set. “He was Victor’s partner.”
“Exactly. Was, past tense. He sent Victor away once he had the authority.” Thomas couldn’t be blamed for my violent ex’s behavior. Thomas had been nothing but kind.
Lorenzo took my hand. “I know you consider Thomas a friend, but think about it, if you can manipulate him, so can others.”
I bit my lip. The truth stung. Only a while back, I had thought Mr. Goodwin to be impartial, and now, he was the Fontaine sisters’ lackey. I doubted Thomas could be bought, but he could be threatened or subjected to fae magic to change his mind.
I shivered. “I think the leader is behind the competition changes. He or one of his cronies threatened the king.”
Lorenzo stopped walking. “Do you know with what?”
I shrugged. “Maybe the queen?”
“Or maybe Tia. They could’ve lied and said that she’s the heir.”
“She might be.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek. My gut told me I was the child the monarchs had adopted, but I didn’t have anything to prove my theory, just a hunch. “Where’s Mikka?” I was certain the half-ice demon wasn’t here because she was searching for Tia, her mate, and I needed to know if she had made any progress.
“She’s supposed to meet us back at Daydream.”
I quickened my step, and soon, we reached Lorenzo’s bar. While it featured lots of leather and polished wood like other night establishments, what made Daydream unique were the ice sculptures that depicted different demons as well as our king and queen and were bathed in the blue lights that illuminated the bar. At first glance, everything in Daydream appeared the same, but as I crossed the floor, my feet slid on a puddle and whooshed out from under me. I landed hard on my back.
Halia: Daughter of Cinderella Page 27
