So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,26
myself clear?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Splendid. Now, off you go.” He rang one of the bells on his desk, and within seconds, an attendant attired in a sleek velvet coat and a wig of white curls sprang into the room.
“Have my carriage readied,” commanded the duke, “and see to it that this young lady is dispatched to Her Highness’s quarters.”
The duke’s attendant cast Cinderella a sidelong glance, one that plainly showed he did not envy her position. After a quick look up and down at her appearance, he sniffed just as Madame Irmina had; even he didn’t think she would last long here.
Cinderella’s stomach sank. Somehow, she’d have to prove them all wrong.
The palace was a labyrinth of hallways, but the duke’s attendant did not deign to give Cinderella a tour. For her part, she was so focused on trying to keep up that she almost didn’t notice when they arrived in front of the duchess’s chambers.
“She’ll be expecting you,” was all her guide said before he swiftly deserted her.
“Wait, do I—”
The duke’s attendant had already turned the corner.
“—knock?” Cinderella whirled to face the duchess’s massive doors, both sides flanked by unsmiling guards.
“Do you suppose I go inside?” she asked them.
No response.
Report to me everything about the duchess, the Grand Duke had instructed.
Cinderella bit her lip. That didn’t strike her as a typical task given to royal attendants.
Gathering her courage, she took the gilded knocker and tapped softly. Then she clasped the knob and turned, entering the duchess’s apartments as quietly as she could.
“That was fast,” rasped a voice, startling Cinderella. “I take it you’re my next victim?”
Before her, the Duchess of Orlanne sat at her writing desk. A coil of salt-and-pepper hair gathered at her nape, punctuated by emerald and amethyst hairpins that matched her violet gown and its green trimming. Her face didn’t seem to match the refinery of her garments; it was like a quill, long and narrow, with gray eyes as sharp as polished nibs.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” said Cinderella, bowing. “I did—”
“I am sorry, Your Highness,” corrected the duchess. “I’m a member of the royal family, unlike Ferdinand.” She snapped her book closed and harrumphed. “They send me a girl who doesn’t even know how to address me properly. How like George. How absent-minded!”
Venturing deeper into the sitting room, Cinderella was about to repeat her apology when the duchess grabbed the walking stick beside her desk and rose.
“Stay off the rug,” the king’s sister barked. She wrinkled her nose at Cinderella, her sharp eyes taking in the cuts on her hands, the bruises on her temples hidden under her ill-fitting wig. “You smell dirty. Have you been out in the rain?”
Heat rushed to Cinderella’s cheeks. “There was a storm last night, Your Highness, and I only—”
“Stop.” The duchess raised a gloved hand. “I don’t want to hear any more. You are dismissed.”
Cinderella bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Madame Irmina had warned her that she wouldn’t last in the palace. But even she must have expected her to last more than five minutes.
“On your way out, you may tell whoever thought you fit to attend me to turn in their resignation as well.”
“But, Your Highness—”
“Out, I said. Can you not hear?” The duchess reached toward the nearest table, picking up a silver call bell and muttering, “Wait until I get my hands on George. Does he think this is some sort of practical joke? How dare his staff send me a servant who—”
“Oh, you mustn’t blame Madame Irmina!” Cinderella cried.
“What was that?”
She drew a breath. “It wasn’t her fault. Or the king’s.”
The duchess clamped the bell in her palm, suffocating its clang. “Of course it wasn’t my brother’s fault. Do you think he has time to oversee the hiring of servants? Ferdinand manages the royal retainers.”
“Please don’t dismiss anyone because of me,” Cinderella said quietly. “I’ll leave now, so Madame Irmina can send you a new girl right away.” She gave a despondent curtsy, then turned for the door.
“Wait. I’ve changed my mind.” The duchess pounded her walking stick on the ground, a cue Cinderella did not understand. “Well, don’t be a mouse. Come here and let me take a look at you.”
Trying to hide her confusion and careful to avoid stepping on the carpets, Cinderella traced back toward the duchess.
“Hmm,” said the king’s sister, considering. “Your dress is a size too large, and your wig—impossible! It’s practically slipping off your head.” The duchess let out a sigh. “I suppose your smell isn’t that offensive.