The Wronged Princess - Book I (34 page)

The chamber was not large by any means
. 
A chair with worn fabric stood in the
corner
and beside it a heavy square table
. 
There were no candles or other objects to identify its recent occupants but for the unsettled grime
. 
Only the damning evidence of his dear
mamán’s
voice in his head from the prior day
. 

Waves
crashing below could be heard though a window that was much too high to peer from.

“What are you looking for, sire?
”
The barely concealed sarcasm was back, Prince noted.

“Have you recovered from your weak constitution, my dear cousin?” Prince asked, dryly.

“
Weak
constitution!” Arnald’s indignation had Prince unable to hold back a burst of laughter
. 
Arnald’s eyes focused on something behind Prince, standing the hair at his nape on end
. 
“
Bonjour,
M
adam
,” Arnald smiled.

Prince spun quickly shocked to see
his mother.

“Oh, dear,” she muttered softly
. 

“
Mamán
?”

She cleared her throat with a delicate cough.
“It appears
as if
your
mamán
failed to mention a twin I see.”

“
Twin
?” he choked out
. 
“But—”
Of course, she was a twin
. 
At first glance, they looked exactly the same
but for the elaborate fashioned hair built high on her stately head
. 
They had the same dark eyes and upturned noses and slight builds. He would hazard the only
discernible
difference, upon closer examination, was a tiny mole on his aunt's left cheek
. 
Though his mother would not
have been
caught dead
a frock of
such frilly, pink
nonsense
. 
He leaned closer
. 
“Are those diamonds, threaded throughout your gown, madam?”

“Ahem…”
S
he
inclined her head, identically to his mother
.
“Yes,
ma chére
.
I must say,” she said. “Y
ou are the spitting image of your
papá
. 
I am quite proud of you.”

“
Proud
?”

“Are you unwell, dear?” She furrowed her brows
. 
"You keep repeating me
. 
It could be a sickness of the mind, you know."

Prince could hardly comprehend the thread of conversation at the sight of an aunt long thought dead
. 
It was no secret Arnald was his cousin, but how could
Mamán
keep a
twin
sister a secret
. 
And
why
?
Oh, were they past time for a chat.

“
Mamán
, I believe you have left my cousin thoroughly speechless
. 
A remarkable feat, actually.
”
Arnald’s humor had bounded back in full force.

Prince recovered himself with an effort and narrowed his eyes on the tiny woman before him
. 
“Does my
mamán
know you are about,
tante
?”

“
Oui
,” she responded with a wave of her hand
. 
“We are quite close, you know.”

Close
?
He strived for a
measured
breath
. 
It was obvious he needed to keep his wits about him
. 
This, of course, had to be the mysterious Faustine
. 
His mother’s sister
. 
His
aunt.

"So you and my darling
mamán
have been devising the recent events of my life," he stated
. 
The more he
considered
the events
, the more perfect sense
it made,
and the more incensed he became
. 
He struggled for composure, however
. 
As Prince Charming what else could he do
?
’T
was expected
. 
"I wonder what conclusions you have come to,
tante
. 
I would be
most
curious to hear."

"Oh, my
. 
I do believe you to be angry,
oui
?" she twittered.

"Angry,
mad
a
m
?
”

"Now, sire, you would not dare to threaten such a dainty creature
?
A woman this small in stature, mind, could not hope to create so much as a bustle of concern." Arnald laughed
. 
He stood with folded arms across his chest and shoulder against the doorframe
. 
His lofty wit was annoying at best and did not help Prince's usual collected attitude.

"Humph
. 
You are telling me, because she is so
small
, she could not cause havoc?
”
Prince dare not take his eyes from the woman before him
who had stood and begun a pace about the room
. 
He had the
distinct
feeling she might evaporate into thin air
. 
A handy trick these women were able to execute at the snap of a finger.

"That is neither here nor there, nephew."

Prince drew his fiercest scowl
. 
"You dare to taunt me,
madam
?
I am the future king."

"And I am your elder, you will address me with respect.
”
She actually snapped at him
. 
"Now, dear, you must let your confidence guide you."

Confidence? Guide him
?
"I feel the most sudden urge to meet with my
own
mamán
," he muttered.

"
Oui, oui
. 
I suppose you must.
”
She plopped down in the one chair, planted an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm.

Arnald moved to her on bended knee
. 
He clasped her small hand in his
. 
"What is it,
Mamá
n
?
You are distressed,
non
?"

"Dear boy." A tender touch to his head had Prince compelled to look away
. 
"Naught what
with which
you could help.
”
She pulled her hand away
. 
"Be gone, both of you
. 
We shall speak soon enough."

*****

Cinderella hid in the shadows of the darkened corridor praying her light colored frock would not draw the attention of Prince and his cousin
. 

But, alas, luck was not with her
. 
At least not
good
luck
. 
Prince strode from the chamber,
Sir
Arnald fast on his heels
. 
Surprise lit his eyes when they landed on her
. 
His slow smile ignited a pulsating fire through her veins
. 
She dare not dwell on the pleased expression. It did not bode well, at all.

The stick in her hand started to vibrate with a thrumming energy
. 
Reverberating up her arm making its way through her entire body
. 
Before coherent thought rationed through her brain, she held it out—freezing the two men quite immobile
. 
Horrified and shocked by her actions she looked at the stick, dumbfounded, not sure at what she'd accomplished or
why
?
Mayhap, she could make them forget they'd seen her?

Her hungry gaze raked over Prince
. 
Then a
positively evil thought took hold
. 
She could
test
the theory
. 
Of course, if he did remember she would be mortified, humiliated and would generally end of absolution of an untarnished reputation
. 
Her sisters and she had already stacked enough bad deeds against them to have them drawn and quartered—a feat fatal to any commoner
. 
But somehow in the moment she could not seem to make herself care
. 
She just wanted to touch him
. 
Just once more
, b
efore the inevitability of h
is
and Essie's impending nuptials.

Was that so terrible?

O
f course it was, the prim practical voice in her head screamed
even
as she stepped toward him
. 

But one kiss, who would know besides she
?
L
oud silence filled the passageway
. 
One more step found her in touching distance
. 
S
picy soap assailed her senses, and before she could stop herself, Cinderella
closed her eyes,
tipped up
on her toes and touched the corner of his mouth with her lips
. 
The feeling of floating on air enveloped her
. 
Heart pounding furiously, she lowered her heels, opened her eyes
. 
Stepped back
. 
There was a lov
ely firmness contrasting with
velvet softness
. 
She brought her fingers to her mouth.

Time suspended, holding her prisoner
. 
She’d never acted so indecently
. 
She stared at him as if he were Eros, come to life, yet he remained still as the statue, itself.

"Nicely handled, my dear."

Startled
,
Cinderella
jumped back, the stick clattering to the floor.

"Ah, there it is
. 
I wondered where I’d misplaced it.
"

Shamed burned through her
. 
Her deplorable behavior
fastened
her in place
. 

"Oh, Fairy Godmother
. 
I am…I—" Cinderella took another step back
. 

The distinct crack of wood had her gasping for air
. 
Oh, no. No, no, no
. 
She'd broken the magic stick
. 
This could not be happening
. 
Hands flew to her flamed cheeks
. 
She waited for Prince to snap out of his frozen reverie
. 
Denounce her very life
. 
But not so much as a flicker of his eyelash
fluttered
. 
She dare not move
. 
"Oh. I…I…"
Her voice croaked in the horror.

Fairy Godmother's dainty palm came up to halt Cinderella mid-sentence
. 
"Did you break it,
do you think
?
My wand, dear
?
Thank the heaven’s you found it
. 
’
Twould
not do for it to fall in
to nefarious hands
.
”
She
dipped
forward and swiped two distinct pieces
from
the ground
. 

“Oh, my,” Cinderella whispered. She
had definitely broken it
. 
She was too stunned to cry
. 
"I shall—shall...
”
An audible gulp was impossible to mask
. 
Resigned, she squared her shoulders
. 
’T
was time to pay the piper
. 
"I shall turn myself in, of course
. 
’
Tis
only fitting I should be locked up
. 
The dungeon would be preferable to the gallows, however
. 
Is it possible
…
you could
recommend
…I would be most grateful…I…I imagine I
there are
friends in the dungeon
. 
Or, mayhap, Marcel…
I am friendly with mice
. 
They are not so terrible, you know
. 
He…is not…so—
"