Microsoft Word - Cinder-Marie_Sexton.doc (11 page)

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"Where were you?" Jessalyn snapped as I entered her room. "I've had the servants looking everywhere for you!"

"He was with the prince," the servant volunteered. I resisted the urge to kick his feet from under him.

Jessalyn turned her disdainful gaze my way. "First you disgrace me at dinner, then you rush off to bother him before he even has breakfast." She turned away from me to regard herself in the mirror once more. She brushed powder over her nose. "I've seen the way you look at him. It's disgusting. I hate to think what he'll say if he ever finds out how you feel about him."

I turned away, not because I couldn't bear to face
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her, but because I didn't want her to see how her words made me smile. In the past, as recently as a day ago, her words would have stung, but not now. Instead, I thought of him. I thought of the way he'd held me. The way he'd touched me. I thought of the soft brush of his fingers against my cheeks, and the gentleness in his voice as he'd said, "She's not the one I love."

She could not hurt me. Whatever happened, my fate was no longer tied to hers. Maybe he'd marry her and maybe he wouldn't. Either way, I felt sure he'd allow me to stay.

Jessalyn was still talking. I was vaguely aware of her—not of her actual words, but of her tone—so petulant and disdainful. So arrogant.

I ignored her, and I called up in my mind the feel of him on top of me. The taste of him as he kissed me. The warmth of his mouth on the most intimate parts of me. I couldn't help but smile.

"Cinder, are you even listening?"

"Of course," I said. It was a lie, but it didn't matter.

She held her hairbrush out to me. "I'm having breakfast with him in half an hour," she said. "I need you to do my hair the way he likes."

I could have told her no. I could have walked away.

But her shallow, self-centered venom couldn't touch me 109

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now. The memory of my night with him was like a still, quiet pool between Jessalyn and me. If she shouted, I might hear, but she couldn't touch me. She couldn't shatter the gentle joy he'd given me.

I brushed her hair, and she prattled on. She talked of the seamstress making the wedding gown, of which the ruffles were old-fashioned and unflattering. She talked of the servants, who all moved too slowly. She talked of the cake baker, who used too much cream in her frosting. She talked of the endless ways in which the world did not meet her exacting standards.

And through it all, I felt his touch on my skin.

Finally, she was ready to meet the prince. She left for breakfast, and I was sent to town to purchase a particular bath oil she simply couldn't live without.

I took my time. It was a gorgeous day. I felt light and free and somehow reborn. Part of me wanted to worry about what would happen next, but I chose to ignore it. I refused to let doubt darken my mood. For now, the memory of my night with him was enough. I wandered aimlessly through the market, smiling like a fool as I thought of him.

I could still taste his kisses. I could smell him on my skin.

It seemed like all I would ever need.

Eventually though, soft morning sunlight gave way to the bright, hot light of midday, and I admitted to myself I
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couldn't live in my memories forever. It was time to go back. It was almost lunchtime, and Jessalyn would undoubtedly be looking for me, ready to send me off on some brand new errand.

I knew something was wrong as soon as I returned.

The halls of the palace seemed unusually hushed. Servants whispered together in corners. They glanced at me nervously as I passed.

As I neared Jessalyn's room, I heard shouting.

When I rounded the corner, I found myself facing half a dozen guards. A couple looked uncomfortable. Most just looked amused. And in their midst was Jessalyn.

Her face was red. Her hands were balled into fists at her side. The hair I'd so carefully styled for her that morning was in disarray, hanging in a tangled mess down her back.

As soon as she saw me, she flew at me in a rage.

"This is your fault!" she screamed. "You did this to me!"

The guard nearest me caught her before she reached me, grabbing her around the waist.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled, turning to pound his armored chest with her fists. He stood there, solid and unmoving, looking like he was having a hell of a time not bursting out laughing.

"My Lady," one of the others said, stepping 111

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forward. He had red braids on his shoulders, which I'd learned meant he was a captain. "Our orders are to escort you from the palace grounds."

"What?" I asked, stunned. "They're kicking us out?"

Nobody answered me. I wasn't sure they'd even

heard me. They were too busy focusing on Jessalyn.

"You're leaving," the captain said to her, calm and rational. "It's that simple. The choice is yours: you can go peacefully, or you can make a scene. It matters little to us."

The one who'd kept her from attacking me laughed.

"We'll haul you out kicking and screaming, if we have to."

She turned to glare at him. "You wouldn't dare!"

He grinned wickedly at her. "Try me."

I felt as if I'd been kicked in the stomach. After what had happened last night, Xavier was kicking us out? I couldn't believe it. I left Jessalyn to her fate and went in search of the man I loved.

The man who said he loved me back.

At his door, I found the same young servant who

had interrupted us that very morning. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against Xavier's door, but as soon as he saw me, he scrambled to his feet.

"He told me to wait here for you, sir," he said. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to me. "He said to make sure you got this."

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The note was short. It said only:

There's something I must do. I'll be back in three
days. Trust me.

Love — X

Nothing else.

I turned the paper over, stupidly hoping to find

more on the back, but there was nothing there.

"I don't understand," I said, more to myself than to the young servant. "Where did he go? Why are they kicking us out?"

The boy shook his head. "Not you, sir," he said.

"Only the lady."

"Not me?"

He shook his head again. "Everybody's talking about it, sir. They say he specifically said not to let the lady take you."

"Who's everybody?"

"The servants, sir." He grinned at me. "We hear lots, you know."

Of course I knew. I was one.

"And what about the wedding?" It was scheduled to take place in only three days.

"It's still on, sir. They say he specifically told them he'd be back in time."

The wedding was still on, and yet Jessalyn was

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being kicked out? "Stop calling me sir," I said.

"Yes, sir."

I sighed. I had a renewed sympathy for Xavier.

"Where did he go?"

"Nobody knows for sure, sir, but the rumor is he went back."

"Back where?"

"Back to your town," he said. "Back to where you're from."

If that was true, time was short. The trip from my home had taken us two days, although we'd been moving at the speed of the carriage. Alone on horseback, it was possible he could make it there and back in time for the wedding, but there'd be little time to spare. "Why is he going there?"

"They say he picked the wrong girl."

The wrong girl?

"They say the prince meant to pick her twin, but Jessalyn locked her sister in the closet and tricked the prince into taking her instead."

It was absurd. After all, I knew Penelope wasn't the right girl any more than Jess was. I also knew Jess hadn't done anything as drastic as locking her sister in the closet.

On the other hand, I sure wouldn't have put it past her if it had come to that.

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Was it was possible Xavier had decided to go

through with the marriage, but had decided Penelope was the better choice? She was, after all, not nearly so conniving. If I had to see him wed to one of my

marriageable cousins, I certainly would have chosen Penelope over Jess.

Still, it made no sense.

"Is there anything else?" I asked.

The boy grinned at me and leaned closer as if

sharing a remarkable secret. "Only that nobody's too sorry to see her go." He straightened back up and made a noticeable effort to stop smiling. It didn't quite work.

"That's all," he said. "Sir."

* * * *

The next few days were the strangest of my life. For the first time in years, nobody was giving me orders. I had no duties. No chores. I had absolutely nothing to do.

Jessalyn was gone. The rumors said she had indeed been carried kicking and screaming out of the palace. The guards deposited her just outside the gate. They say she stayed there for several hours, yelling and pleading and doing her best to convince anybody who would listen that it was all a horrible mistake. Eventually, the guards tired of 115

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jeering at her. They resorted to pelting her with dirt clods.

When those ran out, they threatened horse dung. After that, she gave up and wandered away. She was never heard from again.

I didn't miss her.

I quickly found idleness didn't suit me, and of

course there was plenty of work to be done. The palace was bordering on chaos. There was still a wedding to be planned, albeit with no bride and no groom. Xavier's mother took over, and preparations resumed in earnest.

Nobody knew what to do about the bride's dress, but other than that, things were much as they had been before, except without Jessalyn's constant complaints.

The eve of Xavier's birthday dawned warm and

bright and beautiful. It was the day of the wedding. The ceremony was planned for late in the evening, due to some ancient custom I knew nothing about. A feast was to be served after. The servants were busy, but not too busy to gossip.

The prince was home. Or maybe he wasn't. He'd

brought a bride. Or maybe he hadn't. It all depended on who you asked. Some said he’d rescued a princess from a tower, but whether he’d done so by climbing her hair or by defeating a dragon or both was up for debate. I followed the gossip obsessively for the first few hours, desperate for
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word of Xavier, but eventually I realized it was pointless.

Xavier would return home at some point, with or without a bride. I would learn the truth of it all eventually. Worrying about it now would only drive me insane.

After that, I bent my head to my work and did my

best to ignore the gossip.

The day passed in a frantic blur of activity. When sunset came, I was in the dining room, helping set the many tables.

"Eldon Cinder!"

The voice rang through the dining room like a bell.

Complete silence fell as everybody turned toward the door.

It was one of the guards. "Is Eldon Cinder here?" he asked again.

Everybody looked my way. I cleared my throat and

made myself speak. "I'm Eldon."

"You're to come with me."

He didn't wait to see if I was following. He simply turned and strode purposefully away. I had to hurry to catch up.

"Where are we going?" I asked as I jogged along behind him through the palace corridor.

"To the wedding."

"Has the prince returned?"

"He has. Not more than five minutes ago. Went 117

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straight to the wedding in his riding clothes."

"Am I in some kind of trouble?"

"I don't know."

"But what—"

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face me. It happened so fast, I almost ran into him. "Look, sir. The prince told me to bring you. So I am. That's all I know."

Off he went again, and I rushed to keep up. Right to the door of the cavernous palace courtroom.

I stopped there in the entry, looking up the aisle.

Guests were seated on each side, dressed in their finest garb. I was suddenly horribly aware of my own clothes, faded and patched and dirty from the work I'd done through the day.

On the dais at the head of the room stood a flock of confused clerks, their long dark robes matching their long beards and dour expressions. The disapproval on their faces was evident. Next to them stood Xavier's parents, the king and queen. The king looked baffled. The queen looked intrigued. And in front of them all was Xavier, wearing the broadest smile I'd ever seen.

"Eldon!" Xavier said when he saw me. "Where were you?"

Everybody turned in their seats to look at me, and I felt myself blush. "I was folding napkins."

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Xavier laughed. The audience buzzed. I blushed

even more and wished desperately for a hole in the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

"Well," the prince said, "are you going to come up here, or will you make me wait all night?"

Walking up the aisle was the hardest thing I've ever done. My knees shook. My palms were damp. On each side of me there were faces, wide eyes staring at me as I passed.

There were hushed whispers and people straining to see me past those who were seated along the aisle.

And then, finally there in front of me was Xavier, looking handsome and regal, even in his rumpled riding clothes.

"Xav—Excellency?"

He smiled at my near-blunder, but all he said was,

"Take off your shoe."

Behind me, a wave of whispers ran through the