sweep against her bare arms, and shivers raced through her. She moved away, not caring to look back to see if Cinderella watched from the open doorway of her room.
Cinderella watched from the doorway as Marissa ran down the hall. Unlike the others bending to her will, this girl somehow fought the spell. “Not just you, is it? Something else is working here?” She whispered her questions at the receding figure. Thick webs hung unseen throughout the palace, but not everywhere. A little challenge? She stretched up and plucked a silvery web running along the ceiling. “Come to me, my pets.”
“You require more than I?” Crow wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the room.
Cinderella turned, smiling up at him. “You are not a pet, dearest. I must have eyes throughout the palace.”
“What do you expect to see?”
“The source of what troubles me most.” She narrowed her eyes. “Have you not noticed opposition to the spell?”
“Light will always war against darkness.”
A knock sounded at the door and Cinderella stepped out of his arms. “Let them in.”
Crow obeyed her bidding. When she turned, Abigail stood in the room. “Where is Richards?”
The younger woman shrugged. “He keeps away from me.”
There is something here. Cinderella walked into the sitting room. “My maid will arrive soon and neither of you can be here. Keep watch and let me know the moment you see or hear something suspicious.” She waved Abigail away. “Crow, I want you to lead the prince’s stepsister into the keep. If you can get her to the ramparts, you know what to do.”
“I’ve frightened her, to be sure. Do you think killing her this early is wise?”
“You won’t kill her, not yet anyway. We must drive her away.” She took hold of his hand. “Fly.”
Muscles in his face knotted as the shift from man to bird started. Cinderella relished the feel of his pain. She released him, and the black bird left through the window as a soft knock sounded from the ivy wreath against the door.
29
Marissa rested her forehead against the cold wood of her own door before entering the chamber beyond. Candlelight flickered from bronze sconces lining the walls in both rooms. The linen pattern of ivory and blue above half-wall paneling created a sense of calm, easing the unsettled feelings coursing through her. With a sob of confusion, she sank into a chair in front of the large mirror at her dressing table. She rubbed two fingers against each temple, but the stuffy feeling in her head did not ease.
“Are you well?”
Marissa opened her eyes and offered a wan smile to Mrs. Boyde’s reflection. “What’s not to be well?”
“Dinner appeared spectacular.”
“The walls have eyes?” Marissa’s smile brightened.
She returned her head to her arms as Mrs. Boyde picked up the ivory-handled brush and began sweeping it through Marissa’s thick tresses. She heard the ping of tiny pins hitting the desk as they were pulled from her hair.
“Is Robert’s intended as he described?” Mrs. Boyde asked as she continued working the brush through Marissa’s hair.
Marissa smirked. “She is beautiful. And charming.”
“With a sad tale to tell.”
“Walls have ears as well.”
“Secret passages were built for a purpose. How else would we know what goes on? I know a certain young girl spent her share of time exploring many of Monmoore’s secret places.”
“Can’t keep anything hidden from you, can I?” Marissa sat taller, her heart lighter. Mrs. Boyde continued dressing her hair for night. Marissa tilted her head as a white cloth was wrapped around a braid. She inspected her mirror image, moving her head from one side to the other. “She is beautiful.” Her heavy sigh caused a wayward wisp of hair to tickle her ear. “I always wanted hair the color of sunlight.”
“Yours is cocoa mixed with cream. It is as God intended.”
Marissa’s smile showed white, straight teeth. “I am perfectly made.”
“In God’s eyes and your family’s. If not your own.”
“I have been blessed in my family, especially in you.”
Mrs. Boyde’s gray eyes turned serious. “You are sweet, Mars. Do not allow Cinderella’s power to change that.”
Marissa bit the edge of her fingernail, an idea taking shape. “Cinderella’s tale is a sad story. I remember how I felt losing Father, but Mother did not choose a horrible replacement. King William cares for me.”
“Cinderella was not so fortunate?”
“Her stepmother was a wicked woman, taking her from the privilege of being her father’s daughter. She knows nothing of his family.”
“A horrible fate for any orphan.”
“What if we found them for her?”
Mrs.