Princess of Midnight: A Retelling of Cinderella (Fairytales of Folkshore Book 6)
Page 7
Then the light gathered up, focusing around the top of my head.
The sensation of my hair growing back, thicker, longer, and arranged in neat, loose curls almost had me crying again, not out of sadness, but with disbelieving delight.
The light fizzled out with a few last sparks, and I was left standing there, smoothing reverent hands down my light, yet vivid blue, glittering gown, feeling the satiny cloth that felt alive with magical energy, beneath the hundreds of twinkling multi-faceted crystals, possibly even diamonds. The mess my stepfamily had made of my former dress, to hinder and demean me, had been repurposed into this otherworldly breathtaking design…
The mess!
“I can’t leave yet,” I exclaimed. “They left me a mess I need to clean before they get back.”
Etheline caught me back as I bolted towards the house, tutting. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”
“It must be so nice having magic,” I mumbled as I let her usher me to the carriage. “Making all problems go away with a wave of one’s hand.”
Her dreamy expression was back as she sighed. “Nothing is as simple as that.”
Keenan whistled, stopping me halfway into the carriage. “Forgetting something?”
Etheline raised her hands towards him. “Oh, yes, I suppose I should do your attire as well.”
“You should, but I meant these.” He raised the glass slippers, shimmering, blue-tinted, as if made for my gown. He pointed at my flimsy, fabric shoes. “Time to complete your outfit, Cinders. Or are your feet frostbitten by now?”
I lifted my skirt off my feet, kicking off the shoes. “I’m honestly not all that bothered by the cold.”
As Etheline’s transformative magic enveloped him, making minor adjustments to his clothes, keeping their form-fitting design, but making them more sumptuous and formal, he bent over and slipped each crystalline slipper on one foot after the other.
This gesture shocked me more than the magical tailoring did. Only my mother had ever done something like this for me, and only when I’d been very young.
“I…thank you,” I mumbled, feeling tears burning behind my eyes again.
He winked at me. “You can thank me later. In you go!”
I hopped inside, finding the walls and the fitted seats covered with orange velvet. As he closed the door, I stuck my head out the window, and watched him swing himself up onto the driver’s seat and snap the reins.
Etheline waved us off. “Remember, keep the king away from all others, and report any suspicious behavior—even if it’s just a feeling!”
My responding “I will” was swallowed in the galloping of the reindeer as they launched the pumpkin carriage away from the fairy woman and out of the neighborhood.
I watched both disappear as we got on the main road, before turning my eyes ahead as we quickly joined a line of carriages heading uphill towards the mountain in the distance.
We passed by the dock where I’d last seen Bonnie, the lake full of boats floating on iridescent green waters. They were unloading their cargo onto the backs of the same gigantic animals like the ones who’d rocked the ground while passing through this morning. Keenan called them mammoths when I yelled the question at him.
All manner of conflicting feelings rose within me with each passing minute, as everything that had happened since I’d entered Faerie crashed in on me. And then there was what I was supposed to do for the next three nights.
Suddenly, all my thoughts scattered. My breath left me and I felt I couldn’t draw another to replace it. For suddenly, framed in my window like some kind of celestial painting, there it was. Our destination. The castle that seemed to be made entirely of crystalline ice and magic.
It felt so close I could touch it if I reached out of the window. So massive I could barely wrap my mind around its size.
I was really going there. I would see him again. The Winter King. The man I was supposed to save, again.
And I had to succeed, it I were to save myself.
Chapter Nine
After living all my life in Aubenaire, knowing nothing about the rest of the world, coming to Faerie had been one shock after another.
Even among the dread of crossing over to a different realm, with people I barely knew, of being hunted by all kinds of monsters, I couldn’t help but notice how small and drab the world I’d lived in had been. I’d marveled at the scope and richness of my new environment.
Then came this. This castle that shimmered like a gigantic diamond in the moonlight, and exuded an internal arcane glow, preserved in ice, the purest, starkest form of eternity.
Now this was magical. Everything that appealed to my senses and stirred my fascination and awe.
It presided like a sprawling entity over the picturesque landscape that was the city of Midnight. And now I saw the latter from that dizzying elevation, I was almost equally spellbound by its sight.
Under the cloak of harshest winter, Midnight’s stone houses with their snow-covered roofs and golden lights rose like frozen monoliths, idols worshipping the Winter Castle. Their chimneys seemed to be exhaling warm breaths into the freezing air as they implored it in prayers and incantations. The silvery, coniferous trees winding among them and circling the whole city, stood like a silent army at the foot of the snow-capped mountains, a barrier against all outsiders and enemies.
But the Winter King’s enemies were already within his domain. And I was supposed to keep him from them until Keenan and his relatives routed them out and apprehended them.
My heartbeats, already hammering with wonder, stumbled with a renewed surge of dread.
I’d accepted my role out of despair. But I had no idea how I’d even approach the king, let alone commandeer his attention and keep him from everyone who would do him harm—not for one night, but three. Now if—and when—I failed, I might be the reason he would die!
A sharp, violent turn slammed me against the side of the carriage, the fright and the pain bursting in my shoulder snapping me out of my descent into panic.
Survival kicked through my senses as I found myself lolling out of the window, looking down a sheer cliff that went down for hundreds of feet over an impenetrable layer of fog.
Before I could even let out the scream that formed in my depths, I was tossed to the other side as the carriage righted itself, and I heard Keenan’s cheerful announcement.
“We’re here!”
I cursed him in every way I knew how as I peeled myself from the side of the carriage, loudly enough for him to hear it seemed, judging by his delighted hoot of laughter.
Those fey and their bizarre sense of humor!
Next moment I forgot all about him and everything else as I ventured another look outside the window. Up close, the castle was an even more awe-striking spectacle—all sweeping crystalline facets that seemed to reside in more than one plane of existence.
It soared up, up, up in layers of reflections and gleams of ice and magic, culminating in turnip-shaped domes. Those ended in spires that seemed to pierce the fabric of the sky itself.
Keenan parked before a set of half-moon steps and an attendant opened my door. My breath caught in my throat when the man held his hand out to me, fearing that he would see me as human through Etheline’s disguise, and cause me trouble, like everyone else had in this realm.
All I got was an intrigued raise of his brow. “A little far from Verdure, aren’t you?”
Before I could ask what Verdure was, Keenan hooked his arm with mine and hauled me away. “No one said the Midwinter Ball was just for Winter courtiers!”
At the base of the entrance, I was taken aback by the wide, crystal-like steps. My nerves tightened as if already experiencing the teeth-grinding friction they’d make with my glass slippers. And I’d be lucky if discomfort would be the extent of it. Since I wasn’t, I probably had an epic slip and spill to look forward to.
I faltered as I gazed down at my distorted reflection in the refractive hues, wondering if I cou
ld surreptitiously take my slippers off. With my luck, everyone would notice, and I’d out myself as a peasant trespassing on this royal event.
Resigned that no matter what I did, I’d probably end up embarrassing myself, I moved forward, only to stutter to a halt. In the reflection—it looked as if someone ghastly was looking back at me.
Keenan tugged on my arm. “If you expect me to carry you up the stairs and across the castle’s threshold, then you owe me a belated proposal.”
Grimacing at his untimely lightheartedness, heart booming from the moment of total fright, I turned urgently to him, pointing down at the step. “Do you see that?”
He grinned down at me. “Seeing things already, Cinders?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it, since he was probably right. I no longer saw what I thought I did. My reflection was so distorted I could only tell it was me based on the hair and dress color. And I did look different now. My nerves must have supplied the ghastly part.
Exhaling, I focused on my earlier concern. “Is the whole place like this? Or are there wooden or cement floors inside?”
He patted my hand reassuringly. “If you’re worrying about your shoes, don’t. You can run in them if you want. And to answer your question, there are carpets inside.”
Nodding, I swallowed my apprehension and ascended beside him. And to my surprise, he was right. There was no grinding or slipping at all. So the glass slippers’ magical comfort and stability worked no matter the type of ground.
Now I was confident I wouldn’t barrel down the stairs, I allowed myself some amusement as I watched Keenan play up his personality, winking at the ladies and wiggling his eyebrows at the guards and male invitees.
Panic crashed back the moment we were inside the castle doors and I saw the line of people waiting to be admitted. My stepfamily were right at the top.
Suddenly suspecting the efficiency of my current disguise, I was ready to bolt back down the stairs, hop on Oscar and reenact the scene that had landed me in this mess. But Keenan continued dragging me behind him, passing everyone ahead of us, eliciting many complaints.
As we overtook my stepfamily, I spilled my hair forward, hiding my face as much as I could. Keenan slammed his shoulder hard against Darla’s, cutting off Dolora’s haggling with the flame-haired supervisor, who held a list of names and a gold feather pen. Darla let out a dramatically loud howl of pain, and started cursing Keenan.
Dolora turned her entitled shouting on him. “How dare you! Apologize to my daughter at once or we’ll have you thrown out on your teeth and—get back to your spot! This is our turn, you can’t just cut ahead of us! Are you listening to me? I’M TALKING TO YOU!”
Ignoring her completely, Keenan grinned infectiously at the supervisor. “Serafina—looking radiant as always.”
Dolora spluttered apoplectically. Being ignored was clearly something she’d never experienced. Back home, she’d always been on the offensive, riling people up, keeping them off balance with her aggression, while leveraging my father’s money and the status of her acquaintances to intimidate them. She’d no doubt done this all over Faerie, too.
Serafina, who had been scowling at Dolora, brightened at Keenan’s sight and compliment. “Your Highness! Pleased to see you again so soon. Go right in. Your sister is waiting for you on the first floor.”
“Thank you, darling.” He leaned over and pecked her on a cheek that promptly matched her flaming hair. “I’ll save you a dance, once you’re done admitting the cattle.”
As we strode past her, I heard the girls’ gasps.
“He’s a prince! Mother—you just yelled at a prince!”
“Mother! You said we were to make good impressions! Now look what you did!”
It took all my self-control to not turn around and blister them all with a smug smile.
But I soon forgot about them as we delved deeper into the castle, whose interior matched its magical exterior.
Right beyond an entrance hall spread in translucent marble and surrounded by massive ice-statue pillars, bifurcating, spiraling staircases—carpeted as promised—led upstairs.
The moment we alighted on the first floor, we were enveloped in the buzz of chatter and laughter coming from a chamber across the landing.
As we entered, I was dazzled by the lights refracting off walls chiseled like gems and showering everything with star-like bursts. Fairies milled around, sipping phosphorescent drinks in every possible hue from ornate flutes. Almost no two looked alike. But no matter how different they all were—in skin tone, hair color, or distinctive features, whether it was gossamer-like wings or elaborate horns—they all shared the traits of pointy ears, and ethereal beauty.
As we walked in deeper, I was at a loss for what to stare at—the colorful, stunning people, their equally breathtaking clothes, or the expansive chamber itself, with its crystalline walls, silvery furniture, lifelike ice sculptures, and icicle chandeliers.
A shudder rattled through me at the fresh memory of the chandelier Dolora had dropped on me. Though, interestingly enough, for a castle seemingly made of ice, it wasn’t freezing inside. It was chilly, but far warmer than the outside, and with no fireplaces in sight. Not that these would be allowed, if all this was really ice. They probably had magical spells at work, ones that would warm the inhabitants, but wouldn’t melt the walls and foundations of the castle.
“What’s Verdure?” I asked, awkwardly waving back at the few guests who greeted us.
Keenan winked at a particularly gorgeous fairy. “The capital of the Spring Court, Etheline’s seat.”
“Etheline is the Spring Queen?” I exclaimed, louder than I intended with shock.
He shushed me. “Yes.”
“You’re telling me a fairy queen lived in my dull, backwater town for over ten years?”
He shrugged. “Ten years of your time could feel like a mere month to a fairy.”
A few other thoughts suddenly slotted together, tying my previous experiences within Faerie and everything Bonnie had told me with the present. “Wait. Does this mean she’s the fairy queen who cursed Prince Leander and his sister? Or was that a different Spring Queen?”
“No, it’s definitely her.”
A few aghast noises preceded any coherent sentence. “The only help you could find me had to be someone who curses babies?”
“Would you rather I brought someone who eats babies instead? Because that was an option.” He picked a drink off the tray of a server in a glittering powder-blue tailcoat, the golden liquid bubbling and sloshing as he gestured. “If it helps, she’s been plotting to help amend those curses. If Bonnie succeeds in saving Leander, then we’ll see about his sister next.”
That was when it finally hit me. “Keenan. Keenan. Bonnie and Leander left for the Spring Court to have an audience with its queen!”
He knocked a knuckle against my temple. “Did your stepmother’s abuse give you amnesia? You know I know that, since I was the one leading you all on that quest—before you took off and I had to let them go alone, to come after you.”
I poked my elbow in his ribs. “I meant, if the Spring Queen is here, then where are they?”
He rubbed his side, eyeing me amusedly. “They’ve already met with her.”
Already? But we’d gotten separated only a couple of days ago. Or did time pass more quickly in Spring?
Shaking my head, I focused on the important part, made a hurrying gesture. “And?”
“And that’s the extent of my knowledge. All she said was that they left to go back to his kingdom.”
Arbore. That was on the Folkshore. They had left Faerie.
So Bonnie wasn’t coming back for me, after all.
I didn’t know why I was so shocked, why I’d expected otherwise. I had already suspected I’d been a convenient, temporary companion for her.
Yet, it seemed I’d still hoped I was wrong, that she really was my friend. For a foolish while there, I forgot that people like me didn’t get to have friends.
I doubted I’d ever see her again.
Chapter Ten
My dark musings were interrupted when a woman in a glorious gown seemingly made of giant autumn leaves broke away from a group and waved us over with a bandaged hand.
Clearly, Keenan’s sister.
Besides being as impressively built as he was, she had the same olive skin, glossy, auburn hair, light grey eyes, and long, sharp face. She was tugging a stocky, square-faced, flaxen-haired man behind her. He wore a heavy, navy getup I wouldn’t call a suit, probably a uniform, a mid-thigh jacket over fitting pants, with a silver belt, buttons, and some sort of insignia over his heart. And he had a beard and a waxed mustache. I recognized him at once as the announcer from the night of the attempted assassination.
“I didn’t know fairies had facial hair,” I whispered to Keenan out the side of my mouth.
“It’s a rare, Winter fey trait—helps keep their cold, little bodies warm I suppose,” he answered, much too loudly, as we met them halfway by a pillar that was carved to resemble an upright bear, its head supporting the ceiling.
“These are dire times indeed, if you arrive almost on time.” His sister smirked at him, before extending her bandaged hand to me. “Hello, I’m Princess Sorcha of Autumn, and this is my husband, Simeon, Duke of Hardreim.”
I hesitated, then gripped her wrist, shaking that instead.
Sorcha made a distressed noise when Keenan traded my hand for his, examining her injury. “What happened?”
“She punched a mirror,” Simeon said dully.
The absurdity of that statement almost wrung a nervous laugh from me.
It made Keenan snort. “Why? You got spooked by your own morning bedhead?”