Microsoft Word - Cinder-Marie_Sexton.doc (2 page)

"Who's 'they'?"

"My father's kennel master. They bred him and trained him. They say he could track a phantom stag to the far side of the world. Not that I've ever tested that theory."

"You don't believe them?"

"I believe them. I just don't care."

"Why not?"

"Hunting bores me. I ride along behind Milton
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while he does all the work, then I have to butcher the animal and haul its stinking corpse back to the palace so they can all gush about it and pretend I did something special." He shrugged. "Plenty of men who hunt because they have to. Let them have the deer. Milton and I prefer playing fetch."

I was hung up on one word. "Palace?" I asked. And then the magnitude of my stupidity caught up with me.

I dropped quickly to my knees, lowering my gaze to the ground. Here I was, facing the prince, and I'd been talking to him as if he were just another servant. "Your Highness, please forgive me. I didn't recognize you."

"Why would you have? We've never met."

"My behavior was inexcusable."

He laughed. "On the contrary. I wear no sign of my title save my ring, which you could hardly see from all the way over there. We've never met before, which means you had no way of knowing who I was. Therefore, it seems to me your behavior is
entirely
excusable."

I risked raising my eyes. He was looking down at

me with obvious exasperation.

He sighed. "For heaven's sake, get up!"

First I felt foolish for not having recognized him, and now he'd made me feel foolish for thinking I should have. I got to my feet again, brushing leaves from my 7

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knees. Milton returned the shoe again, and again the prince turned and threw it toward the woods. He seemed to have forgotten I was there. I stood watching them play fetch, wondering what in the world I should do next. On one hand, I should not be talking to him, and if I continued to do so, I'd undoubtedly say something foolish. He was, after all, a prince, and I was nothing but a servant in my aunt's house. It was inappropriate for me to speak to him without being spoken to first. On the other hand, I couldn't leave without being excused.

I reached down and retrieved my fishing pole from the ground, where it had landed when Milton knocked me down. The movement seemed to catch his attention, and he turned to look at me. "Are you leaving?" he asked.

"Sire, with your permission—"

"Stop!" He sighed as he threw the shoe again for Milton. He shook his head. "I liked you much better when you thought I was nobody special."

That brought me up short. He'd liked me? My heart skipped a beat at the thought.

But now he didn't like me anymore.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Cinder." Except that wasn't technically correct.

Cinder was my surname, and it was what my aunt and cousins called me. Nobody called me by my first name.

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"Eldon."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Well, which is it?"

"It's Eldon Cinder."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Eldon," he said. "I'm Augustus Alexandre Kornelius Xavier Redmond." He laughed. "But you know that now, don't you?"

"Yes, sire."

"Don't call me 'sire'."

"But—"

"My father calls me August. My mother calls me Alex. You can call me Xavier."

"That wouldn't be appropriate."

"Appropriate is boring." He turned to look at me again. "Where are you going?"

"Fishing."

"Really?" he asked, suddenly alert and interested.

He eyed the fishing rod I held. "With
that
?"

What kind of question was that? I looked at the

pole, trying to see what about it was remarkable.

"You really catch fish with a stick?" he asked.

"It's a fishing pole."

"How does it work?"

I might have thought he was trying to play me for a fool, but his expression wasn't mocking. He seemed genuinely intrigued. "Haven't you ever fished before?"

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"My father says fish are for peasants. He refuses to let it be served. But once, I sneaked down to the servant quarters, and they gave me some. It was delicious!"

I was trying to decide if I was offended by the

peasant comment. He seemed oblivious. He eyed my rod again. "Do you stab them?"

"No! I put bait on the hook, and when a fish swallows the bait, I pull it out of the water."

"So you catch them one at a time?"

"How else would I do it?"

"I have no idea," he said, smiling. "I've never much thought about it." Milton came back again with the shoe, but instead of throwing it, the prince stood looking at me, his eyes bright and merry. "You're going there now?"

"Yes."

"Perfect," he said, pulling his shoe onto his bare foot. "Lead the way!"

It was strange, walking through the forest as I

always did, carrying my fishing pole, but this time with a prince at my heels.

I glanced back to see if he was really there. He was staring up at the treetops as we walked. If I'd done that, I would have tripped and fallen on my face. Apparently
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princes were granted a bit more natural grace.

Milton barked and frolicked around us, dashing

ahead to scout the path, then running back to us as if to say,

"Hurry up, will you? I don't have all day!" Then he'd dart off again, howling and baying as if he were on the trail of some mighty prey.

The forest was silent in our wake. Even the trees seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for Milton and his two plodding humans to pass. I felt as if I should say something, but I had no idea what. How did one start a conversation with a prince?

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

I hadn't quite realized I was doing it until he called me on it, but he was right. I'd been staring at him as much as I was able with him following me. I shook my head.

"This has to be the strangest thing that's ever happened to me."

"Going fishing?"

"Going fishing with you, yes."

"Are you saying I'm strange?"

I laughed. I couldn't help myself. "Well, you're the prince, and you're following a servant to go fishing. Does that seem normal to you?"

"I suppose not. But you're not exactly normal yourself, are you?"

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"What makes you say that?"

"You know who I am, and yet you're not falling all over yourself in an attempt to curry some type of favor from me."

"Would you prefer that?"

"God, no. But that's how it usually works.

Everybody wants something. Money, or a job for their father, or a marriage for their daughter." He smiled over at me. "Go ahead. Tell me what you'd ask for."

What would I ask for? I had to think about it.

Certainly money or a job outside of my aunt's house might have been nice, but it wasn't the desire that lurked in the deepest recesses of my heart. "Can you bring my parents back?" I asked.

"From where?"

"From death."

The smile faded from his face. "I'm afraid that's a bit beyond my abilities."

He seemed to be taking the request seriously, and I tried to laugh, although it came out flat. "I didn't really think you could."

"Did they die recently?"

I shook my head. "A long time ago. I was just a boy."

"I'm sorry."

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We'd veered into something I didn't want to dwell on. It was definitely time to change the subject. "Are the rumors true?" I asked. "Are you here to find a bride?"

"Is that what they're saying?"

"The town's abuzz."

"Bad news travels fast."

"So it
is
true?"

"I'm the prince, but not the Heir Confirmed. In order to be the true heir to the kingdom, I must be named crown prince."

"And to do that, you have to be married?"

"The law says I must take a bride by my next birthday."

"And when is that?"

"In two weeks."

"Cutting it a bit close, aren't you? What happens if you don't?"

"I'll be forced to renounce my crown, my title, and all claim to my inheritance."

"Ouch."

"No kidding."

"Why here? Seems like a long way to come to find a bride."

He glanced sheepishly my way. "I'd already rejected all the young ladies back home, so my father brought me to 13

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your township with the explicit order that I
would
find a wife."

"And here you are, hiding in the forest with your dog."

"I didn't say I intended to cooperate."

"You don't want to be the crown prince?"

He looked down at the forest floor, shoving his

hands deep into his pockets. "I want very much to be my father's heir. I just don't want to take a bride."

"I'm sorry," I said, for lack of anything better to say.

He shrugged, smiling over at me. "What about you?

Are you married?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Partly because I'd never desired women at all. I

found men much more appealing, but I didn't want to tell him that. "I'm just a servant," I said. "Not even that, really.

I'm not even paid a proper salary. I'm not exactly the most eligible bachelor around."

We'd reached the river, and I turned to find him

looking at me, a spark of humor in his eyes. "What?" I asked.

"Strange that we have opposite problems.

Everybody wants to marry me."

"And that's bad?"

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"The thing is, it has nothing to do with
me
, and everything to do with the crown. They don't even know me." He flashed me a mischievous grin. "I could be a lecherous, drunken louse with base and criminal impulses and still the fathers would be lined up down the lane, ready to sell their daughters to me like chattel."

"I never thought of it that way."

"I find the whole thing barbaric."

I thought of my cousins, off buying new dresses in hopes of catching the prince's eye. Deidre had been right—

it would take more than a pretty face and a silk gown to secure their prize. I couldn't help but laugh. "And
are
you a lecherous, drunken louse?"

His laugh was loud, and he clapped me on the back appreciatively. "Only on my good days."

His fascination with my fishing pole was short-

lived, but he stayed with me as I fished. He sat on a rock, alternately playing fetch with Milton and whittling at a piece of wood he'd found on the ground. He never seemed to stop asking questions, and I found myself telling him about my parents, and Aunt Cecile, and my cousins.

"You told me you were a servant," he said. "But you're her nephew."

"She prefers not to be reminded of the fact." And truth be told, so did I. At one time, I had longed for her to 15

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be a mother to me, but those days were long past.

I stayed far longer than I should have. The sun was falling in the sky, and Deidre would be waiting for the fish.

"Must you go?" he asked as I gathered my things.

"I'm afraid so. My aunt will have it in for me as it is."

"May I walk with you?"

I was struck once again by the absurdity of being asked such a question by the prince, as if he needed my permission. "Of course. I could invite you back to the house for some fish. I'm sure my aunt would be happy to have you—"

"Dinner with the marriageable cousins?" he joked.

"I'd rather not."

I was glad he'd declined the invitation. He would have been at the dining room table with the family, while I served them. He knew my place in their household, but the idea of having him witness it was too painful to bear. My aunt would go to great lengths to humiliate me. Watching Jessalyn and Penelope fawn over him would only make it worse. As it was now, he was a secret. A wonderful, joyous secret belonging only to me. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was share him.

"This isn't the way we came," he said as he followed me through the woods.

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"I have a stop to make first."

"Where?"

"There's an old lady who lives here. I leave fish for her."

He didn't say anything else, just followed along

behind as I made my way to the witch's cave.

"What kind of person lives in a cave?" he asked, as I lay the fish on the flat stone by the door.

I shrugged. "They say she's a witch. She can do magic."

He waved his hand at me dismissively. "I don't believe in magic." He peered into the mouth of the cave, but there was only darkness.

"They say she can turn pumpkins into carriages and mice into horses."

He frowned at me. "That doesn't seem very useful."

I hadn't really ever thought about it much. What

was the point of that kind of magic? "I suppose she could sell the horses."

"Then why don't you leave her mice? And why does she live in a cave?"

"I don't know," I said, trying not to be annoyed. He was a prince, after all, and his questions were valid, even if they did make me feel silly.

"Have you ever seen her?" he asked.

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"No."

"How do you know she exists?"

"The fish I leave are always gone."

"You're probably keeping a big bear fat and happy."

I shrugged, feeling foolish. Deidre had taught me to always leave an offering for the witch. It seemed harmless enough, but now I regretted having let him see me do it.

"I've upset you," he said.