Cinderella Spell - Laurie Lee Page 0,69

visit their daughter took seats beside them. Mr. Corly, a large man with an exuberant laugh, talked them into a game of Sevens. Marissa took to the game within a few hands, and their shouts filled the room more than once.

“It has been a pleasure, Dear.” Mrs. Corly hugged Marissa as the late hour drove them to their rooms.

Mr. Corly pulled the drawstrings on the pouch and held it out to Marissa. “No need to worry, got more sets than one. This’ll give you something to do on the rest of your travel.”

“Thank you, Sir. You are kind.”

He shook his head. “Kind is you hanging out with the likes of us when you’re clearly our better.”

Marissa laughed. “You’re good people, Mr. Corly, you and your wife. Safe journey.” The older couple turned down a different wing of the inn. Marissa continued another flight of stairs, Mrs. Boyde a few steps behind.

“Still a bit sore? I think I’ve got something that can help with that.” Mrs. Boyde followed Marissa into their room. A pair of beds left little space for walking around. A small fireplace glowed beneath a crate. A crock on the crate gave off a rich scent.

Marissa leaned toward the fire, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “How did you manage that?”

“Captain Standish.

Most of the soreness had worn off, helped with a glass of mulled wine. The tied bed creaked as Marissa settled into it. Different than what I’m used to, but not awful. Her eyes drifted closed.

The next five days flowed much the same. Nothing much to do, and yet I’m weary to the bone. Marissa sighed as she stared at her reflection in the window of the moving carriage. Wings and a man’s face appeared in the window, causing her to jump back with a screech. Her heart pounded, and her hand shook as she gripped the fabric of her jacket. The toddler across from her began to cry, his mother scowling in her direction.

Mrs. Boyde placed an arm around her shoulder. “What happened?”

Marissa shook herself. “I dozed. Saw someone standing outside the carriage.” She laughed, swallowing her fear. “Ridiculous. The vehicle is in motion, no one could stand at the window.”

“No, probably not.” Mrs. Boyde hugged her anyway.

Too many days to find her. Too many paths to follow. Smart, changing like that. Oh, they thought it worked, that would be his advantage. Kill the girl and return to Cinderella. Hate for the witch bubbled with love. What would it be like to be rid of her, once and for all? Never stand by her side again? He couldn’t bear the thought. With a mad howl, he changed forms and followed the troublesome stepsister.

40

Marissa felt tears gather in her eyes as the streets of Elgin rumbled beneath wagon wheels. Her body ached. Weariness pulled on her. She wanted a bath, a bed of feathers, sweet smelling oils for her hair. She grinned at her own pettiness. I have grown as a woman blessed with privilege. Thank you, Lord. May I be ever grateful when such things are restored. If … No. That wasn’t to be thought. We will succeed. An image of Robert came to mind. We must succeed.

Their conveyance stopped outside a brick-faced inn, The Lucky Lady. The township of Eglin bustled around them. Unlike the stopping posts along the travel route, Eglin was a city. Cobbles had been laid in the road, causing the clatter of horses and carriages to add to the bustle of people going about their business. Across from their accommodation stood an archway barred by an iron gate. A myriad of shops could be seen beyond the fence.

“I wonder when the market opens.” Marissa commented as she lifted her valise.

“Matters not. I don’t think such a place would be safe for us.”

Marissa rolled her eyes but was too tired to argue. Food and sleep, and no need to rise before the sun. That was all she required at the moment. Other plans could wait for the morrow.

The sun was well into the sky the following day before Marissa stretched and rolled over in the bed, a wider bed with a slim mattress. Luxury, after so many nights with ropes. She tucked her arm beneath her head and watched as lazy shadows of tree limbs danced on the ceiling. We’re here. We could discover Cinderella is as she appears. Robert’s love could be real. Why did the thought terrify? Or we could find her lies. Would knowing the lies be