Cinder & the Prince of Midnight Read online

  “Don’t fret, darling,” said Helene. “The fairy will make you another dress. I’m sure she can turn the dress you’re wearing into whatever you want.”

  “And what do I get for making this dress for you?” asked Lalyn.

  “Your life,” said Helene. “We bought you and can do whatever we want with you. I am your master, and I’ve paid good coin for your service. Now, do as I say.”

  Instead of cowering or getting angry, Lalyn looked interested at that, as if she was finally about to have some fun.

  “You’re asking me for favors without immediate return payment?”

  “Of course. I own you. You will do as I say.”

  “As you wish, madam.” A small smile lit up Lalyn’s face.

  The fairy lifted the old dress Cinder had folded beside her on the floor and held it up. It changed into a sparkly pink confection of chiffon and pearls.

  Darlene clapped and squealed. “It’s perfect! Thank you, Mama. Only, could you change the ribbons to lace?” she asked her mother instead of the fairy.

  “You heard her, fairy,” said Helene. “Change the ribbons into lace.”

  Lalyn nodded. In her eyes, she looked like she was calculating, tabulating. Was she keeping track of her services?

  The ribbons changed into lace. Then all three began tweaking the designs, asking for different shades of color and more jewels on the fabric. Each time, the fairy nodded solemnly, as if agreeing to a bargain.

  When they were done, they demanded that Cinder and the fairy hand over their dresses. Darlene was the most pleased of the three by this time, because she was the only one who had a dress that wasn’t dirty to begin with.

  Cinder took her dress off and stood in the kitchen with nothing to wear but her underskirts. But the fairy was worse, because when she began to take her dress off, she didn’t even have underskirts beneath it.

  Dark bruises and whip welts marred Lalyn’s shoulders and back. The bumps of her spine showed through her thin skin. Scratches and scars crisscrossed her body.

  Cinder teared up at the sight of the poor creature while Helene gleefully took the dress. Cinder took one of the blankets off the floor and covered Lalyn with it.

  “We have nothing to wear,” said Cinder. She’d only had two old dresses, and they were both gone now. “May we use a couple of your old dresses?”

  Helene paused in her excitement and looked at them.

  “I could make you both wear potato sacks. But I’m feeling generous. Girls, give them your oldest dresses.”

  “Can the fairy do our hair, Mama?”

  “And jewelry? And shoes?”

  “Of course she can, my darlings. That’s why Mama bought her for you.” She turned to Cinder. “Get her dressed and have her meet us in our chambers. We want to see what else she can do.”

  Chapter 24

  For the rest of that day and all the next, Cinder’s stepfamily demanded much of the fairy. They each tried countless hair styles, different-colored jewels and hundreds of shoes, for they all had a competitive shoe fetish. Their only regret was that they could only wear one pair of shoes for the princes’ ball.

  All this preoccupation let Cinder sneak off in the afternoon to train with Silver. Silver had been heartsick ever since her granddaughter was taken. But she continued to sell her flowers at the market, and they still trained.

  “Do you wish to go to the ball?” asked Silver as she whacked a long stick at Cinder.

  Cinder blocked Silver with her own stick.

  “That’s like asking if I want a feast for dinner. There’s no chance of it, so why think about it?”

  She stabbed at Silver with her stick.

  Silver knocked it away and jumped toward her.

  “Are you so logical? Do you not dream of a prince to sweep you away from all this?”

  Cinder swept to the side, barely avoiding Silver, but losing her stick in the process.

  “A girl can dream a little, I suppose.”

  She kicked at Silver, who kicked her back. A solid hit and fast recovery by both.

  “You cannot fool me, girl. I see the wishes in your face, hear the wistful sighs. You’re just like every other silly girl.”

  Silver collected Cinder’s stick and handed it to her.

  “What do you dream of, Silver?”

  A cold look came into Silver’s eyes. “My dreams are dark secrets.” Her voice had murder in it.

  “You can’t get her back no matter how many you kill, Silver.”

  “I know this far better than you will ever know.” She strode into the cottage and came back out with an armful of flowers.

  “I can’t go to the market with you today,” said Cinder. “I have to see to my fairy.”

  “Watch out for that one. Never trust a fairy.”

  “I have no trust for the fairy. I have her for one more day, then she goes back to the slaver.”

  “She will not want to. If there’s one thing fairies hate, it’s being held captive.”

  “She has no choice. Just like I have no choice.”

  “We all have choices, even if we do not realize it.” Silver put her bundle of flowers in her cart and went back for more.

  Cinder helped Silver load up her cart for a special delivery to a wealthy merchant. Then she said goodbye and started her run back home.

  As usual, the sun had set in the middle of the day, making people worry about whether they’d have any sun at all by next year. The road was lit only by the stars, since the moon had yet to rise.

  Coming toward her on the road was a horseman. She tensed. She had no reason to fear horsemen on this or any other road. Attacks almost never happened outside of the hunt.

  If two people had a problem, they could fight it out in the woods during the hunt, where there were no limits as to what could be done. No rules. No punishment.

  Same was true for violent people looking for prey. They could always wait until the hunt, when they could do anything they wanted to whomever they caught, so long as their prey had signed up for the hunt. And the Dark King made sure there were plenty of incentives to ensure plenty of prey.

  Silver had paid for Cinder to stay out of the hunts for as long as she could. But the Dark King raised the fees every year, tempting even moral guardians of children old enough to participate. Silver had to match that price to convince Helene not to sign Cinder up. Until one day, she couldn’t anymore.

  Since then, Helene had signed Cinder to the hunt each full moon.

  That was when Silver let Cinder in on a secret. The grandmother warrior had been staking out a spot on the edge of the forest every hunt. She rescued whoever wandered by and guided them to safety. Sometimes, she had to get into a fight to do it, but mostly, she merely helped those who were alone. She could rescue two villagers for the energy and risk of wrestling one victim out of the clutches of hunters. So she had to do the hard math and let those villagers go.

  But now that Silver couldn’t keep Cinder out of the hunts, Cinder could help. So Silver showed her the place she hid during the hunt. Now, every full moon, Cinder ran straight to their hiding spot and helped rescue villagers. They always wore masks so that nobody could recognize them.

  “The more people who know a secret, the more likely it will be told,” said Silver. “Good people, bad people, grateful people—it just happens.”

  The Dark King acquired many of the hunt’s quarry through forgiveness of debt. Every year, he raised his taxes, and every year, there were more and more families who couldn’t pay. Those people had a choice—go to the dungeons and work camps, or sign up a member of their family for the hunt once a month until their debts were paid in full.

  Those debts could never be paid in full, though, because the king’s taxes went up every year.

  It was a vicious cycle that enslaved the poor into signing up either themselves or someone in their family for the hunt. The only advantage of that was that people were relatively safe the rest of the time. Most violent impulses were put off
until the hunt.

  So Cinder was not terribly concerned about the lone rider coming her way. But she did have a funny feeling as she watched him.

  Chapter 25

  The dark horseman trotted toward her. He blended with the night. Only the darker shadow of his form stood out against the dim glow of moonrise highlighting the hills behind him.

  He wore a dark cloak and had a hood over his head, like most soldiers. Silver said it intimidated the commoners to not be able to see their faces.

  He had broad shoulders and long legs. She could tell by the gold embroidery along the edge of the cloak and on the horse’s bridle that this was a wealthy merchant, or possibly a noble of high birth.

  What was unusual was that he was alone. Most of his ilk traveled with guards and servants.

  She stepped off the road to let him pass, but he slowed down and stopped in front of her.

  “Shouldn’t you be preparing for the ball?” His voice was deep and masculine.

  “That’s for rich ladies, my lord.”

  “It’s for every woman who wants to participate.”

  He pushed his hood back. He was handsome, with eyes that looked right at her instead of through her. Usually, nobles had trouble noticing commoners.

  Even in the dim light, he looked familiar.

  “You look familiar,” he said.

  He scanned her face, her hair, her new dress. It may have been her stepsister’s oldest dress, but it was the nicest dress Cinder had had since she was a young child.

  “Where have I seen you before?” He cocked his head.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met, my lord.”

  She hated having to say “my lord.” After the hunts she’d gone through, she hated all the lords.

  Still, she couldn’t figure out where she had seen him before either.

  “Perhaps it was on market day?”

  “Perhaps.” He didn’t sound convinced.

  Behind him, another rider cantered toward them.

  “What have you there, Dante?” asked the new rider. “Aren’t you hogging enough women as it is?”

  Dante.

  Memories came flooding back. The three brothers who were now two.

  The new rider must be Gallant. Now that she knew who he was, she could see traces of the boy he used to be. Both he and Dante had grown tall and handsome.

  She ducked her head, hoping they wouldn’t remember her. She had changed as much as they had since they last met.

  “Lift your head, girl,” said Dante. “I want to get a good look at you.”

  She lifted her eyes with only a slight tilting of her chin.

  “Stubborn,” said Gallant. “I like that. You haven’t claimed her already, have you, Dante?”

  “I don’t claim beautiful women, Gallant. They come to me freely. You ought to try that sometime. I’m sure you’ll find it refreshing.”

  “Just because you saw her first doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be the one to capture her.”

  It was a phrase that had come from the hunt. Men talked about capturing or claiming a girl. Cinder curled her hands into fists.

  “She’s not interested in being captured,” said Dante. “Let’s go.” He looked back at her. “Maybe we’ll see you at the ball?”

  “As I’ve said, the ball is for wealthy ladies,” Cinder replied.

  “I’m not ready to go yet.” Gallant looked at her more intently. “Where have I seen you before?”

  Alarm tingled her spine. She could almost feel the hangman’s noose slip around her neck.

  She was just about to make some excuse and run when Gallant turned his horse to block Dante’s view of her.

  “Run along, little brother,” said Gallant. “I have grownup things to do, and you’re making the lady uncomfortable.”

  Dante shifted his horse to look around Gallant. “I know I’ve seen her before. It’s bothering me.”

  “Figure it out some other time when it’s not inconveniencing me. Go.”

  Dante took another glance at Cinder and seemed to ponder his options. He shook his head.

  “No, I think I’ll stay, at least until I figure out why she looks so familiar.”

  Gallant watched him for a moment. Cinder wondered if they were going to get into a fight. If so, that might be a good time to run.

  But no such luck. Gallant turned away from his brother and looked down at Cinder.

  “So the lady has a secret. What is that, I wonder?”

  She felt like a rabbit in a snare. People were hanged for lesser crimes than killing the son of a nobleman.

  “My brother may be a simpleton,” said Gallant, “but he’s not wrong here. We’ve both seen you somewhere, unlikely as it seems. Normally, I couldn’t care less about girls I’ve seen, but for some reason, it’s bothering me this time. Must be important.”

  “I sometimes sell flowers at the market.”

  Gallant shook his head and slipped down from his horse. He looked her over from top to bottom.

  She’d grown since he last saw her. Her body had stretched and shifted, changed shape as she both grew as a woman and as a fighter.

  “It’s not the flowers,” Gallant said. “And it’s not the parties. I would have noticed you if I had seen you at a party. And if Dante had seen you first, he would have stolen you away.”

  “Then I’m sure I don’t know where you saw me. Does it matter?”

  She didn’t say “my lord” and knew she could get into trouble for it, but she didn’t care at the moment.

  She took a step back.

  He reached out and took her arm. He pulled her closer.

  “Gallant, what are you doing?” asked Dante from his horse.

  Gallant took a deep sniff of Cinder’s hair. “I would have remembered your scent if nothing else. The scent of jasmine at midnight. You are an intriguing little thing.”

  Cinder’s heart hammered. The last time a man had grabbed her and held her still was that first hunt in the forest.

  Claustrophobia enveloped her, and she had trouble breathing. She shoved him back with so much force that he let go of her and staggered back.

  Gallant looked at her in shock.

  “Nice,” said Dante.

  She turned and ran toward the woods.

  Chapter 26

  Gallant chased her into the woods. She could hear the bushes crackling as he jumped over them right behind her.

  She couldn’t outrun him. He had longer legs and better shoes.

  So she took her stance. She turned and punched him.

  He clearly wasn’t expecting it, because he leapt right into her fist.

  After a moment of shock, he turned into a ball of fury. His arms sprang up for a reactionary punch and the other hand shot out to grab her.

  She ducked.

  But his punch never finished swinging.

  Gallant struggled against Dante, who was holding back his punch.

  “What are you doing?” asked Dante. “Why waste good energy on her when you could be fighting me instead?”

  “Get off me!” Gallant shoved Dante back. “You only want her because I want her. You would have left her in the dirt if I hadn’t shown any interest.” Gallant straightened his coat angrily.

  “I’m not taking anyone away from you, brother. I just think you could take your frustrations out on someone more your size.”

  “You can have her.” Gallant sneered. “While you’re wasting time on a servant girl, I’ll find myself appropriate company.”

  He shoved Dante on his way past. Dante didn’t bother retaliating.

  Both Cinder and Dante let out their breaths when Gallant got on his horse and galloped off into the night.

  “This is a tense time for him,” said Dante. “He’s not so bad usually.”

  Cinder’s heart was still racing, and all she wanted to do was run. She didn’t want to stay here and listen to Dante making excuses for his brother.

  She took a step back, ready to run further into the woods.

&n
bsp; “I wouldn’t if I were you,” said Dante. “It’s not safe in there.”

  “It’s not safe here, either.”

  “You’re right. Let’s walk back to the road, shall we?”

  She hesitated. “You go first.”

  A slight smile showed on his face. “How about we go together? Side by side, like equals?”

  It was unheard of for nobles to consider commoners to be equals. Maybe he mistook her for an equal because of her dress and the dim light. Or maybe he was making fun of her.

  “Come on,” he said. “I would feel terrible if you got carried away by a wild fairy.”

  She stepped beside him, relieved that she didn’t have to run into the forest. “Hasn’t the king caught all the wild fairies by now?”

  “There’s always more. My father says never to trust fairies. Playing tricks is like food and water to them.”

  “I’d be playing tricks too if I was treated like them.”

  As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. Saying anything in favor of fairies bordered on treason.

  “You should be careful of what you say.”

  “I…I just meant that…”

  “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “Why not?”

  They were on the road now, the same road that she had walked with Dante when she first met him years ago. She still remembered that night—the night when she had laughed and flung mud on a noble boy. She hadn’t felt that free since.

  He walked to horse and gathered the reins. He led the horse back to her. “I’ll walk you home.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m in the mood for company.”

  He looked thoughtful as he watched her in the light of the rising moonlight.

  “You don’t need to worry about me,” he said. “I haven’t turned you in for what happened the last time we were together.”

  Cinder almost stumbled. He remembered her.

  Would he arrest her now? Have her hanged for killing his brother? Hanging was probably too simple a punishment for killing a noble. There would probably be days of torture before the public hanging.