mean.”
Cinderella touched his arm, then hissed, pulling away from him. Her fingers tingled as though scratched. “I don’t know what has turned you from me, but it will not protect you forever.”
He shook his head. “My purpose is to stand guard at the door.”
“For now. Once I have what I seek, your journey through the mirror will be a walk in the garden.”
His face hardened. “I’m going to trust that light will return to this place.”
She smiled, tossing her blonde curls. “You do that. I look forward to watching your flesh turn to ash.” She continued on her way, taking a dim corridor that led onto the easement. A few steps, and she entered the ancient keep. She dragged her fingers along the cold stone wall. Doorin walked here. The mirror had been forged in this place. Where had his power come from? Who sealed it away? She walked the empty halls, enjoying the touch of shadows, whispers of the past. The trail of her finger on stone marked her way.
Exploring the keep ate away at the afternoon. Cinderella returned as her maid arrived to draw a bath. Cinderella washed her hands in the basin. “I would like tea before bathing. Have Abigail bring it to me.”
Derea nodded. “As you like.”
Cinderella sat at the window, waiting for the younger servant to arrive with a silver platter. The tea carafe and plate of scones clattered when Abigail set them on the iron table. Cinderella slapped her. “If you are going to serve, you must learn the proper way of it.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“I saw Richards today. You did not tell me he is turned against us.”
“I stay away from him.”
Cinderella grabbed Abigail’s wrist. The servant gasped with pain, but Cinderella did not release her. “You are here for my purpose. Who released him?”
“I don’t know.”
Her grip tightened, and the girl cried. Cinderella tugged at the memory of sand ripping through Abigail. “Is that what you want? Locked within the mirror? Never to escape. If you fail me, or turn from me, your death will be as a torment for ages.”
“No, my lady, never! I serve you.” Abigail fell to her knees as Cinderella released her.
“Your ability to serve must improve. I will request better training for you. Tonight will be a start. You may go.”
Abigail ran. Cinderella poured her own tea and looked across the field to the woods beyond. “Where are you, Crow? Have you found them?”
37
“Why would he think he could get in?” Marissa glared at the broken bench beside the door and the pale scrawny thief lying beside it. In four days of travel, she’d been accosted twice and now a burglar.
“A hundred soldiers wouldn’t make a difference, not when wine and rash friends heckle you to go where you don’t belong.” Captain Standish led her to the sitting area.
“Don’t encourage her, Nicholas.” Mrs. Boyde stepped across the rubble and entered the room. She pressed her hand against the thief’s neck. “Alive. Best send for a guard.”
Marissa leaned closer to Captain Standish. “The king’s carriage is naught but trouble. We’d be better off without it.”
Mrs. Boyde scoffed. “How would you expect to travel, my dear? By foot?”
Marissa rolled her eyes, earning a laugh. She went as far as the doorway and leaned against the jam. “How do normal people go about their business?”
“You are the king’s daughter,” he raised his hands to forestall her argument. “For all intents and purposes.” The captain followed her. “You should be protected.”
“We arrive in Belton province in a couple of days if the weather holds. Who will speak to us if we arrive like this?”
“You are a lady of privilege,” Mrs. Boyde interrupted.
Marissa huffed with frustration. “I am not a fragile flower. Yes, I have been blessed, living in the palace as I do, but I am certain I can survive with less pampering.” She stomped her foot. “In fact, I mean to. Captain Standish, I order you to return to Monmoore with this ridiculous pomade.”
“Absolutely not.” Mrs. Boyde burst out, but Captain Standish shook his head.
“I am not part of that regalia, Lady Marissa.”
“It matters not, Nicholas, no one is returning to Monmoore.”
He stepped closer to Mrs. Boyde. “Obviously, she isn’t. Her life is in danger.”
Marissa plopped into a chair and watched the pair square off. Mrs. Boyde looked her usual put-together self, but a rosy hue to her cheeks and flashing eyes made her appear lovelier than usual. Captain Standish seemed just as intent, and the two of them glaring at