26 Warriors & Offers
I needed reinforcements, so I waited. Sure enough, Poppy and Piglet found me, gasping from their run.
They pointed but I said, "I know. We must devise a plan."
"How did she get my dress!" Poppy demanded.
Our eyes met and the accusation there made me feel small. "Let us get her first before—"
Gasp after gasp broke out and I closed my eyes, praying I was wrong.
"No. Please, no."
But yes. I turned to follow the charming couple as Cinderella walked arm in arm with the addled prince.
His eye stayed transfixed on her to a sickening degree. I half expected him to drool.
One problem presented itself, he did not dance.
Cinderella helped him fix his arms before she positioned herself before him.
A small smile formed, and the man stepped closer.
Someone shoved him aside and took his place. "Now, miss," the once slighted prince drawled, "you owe me a dance."
Cinderella's expression turned cold. "Perhaps you can find one from one of your many admirers. As you can see, I am engaging with someone else at this moment."
Prince Archibald, the one-eyed prince, stared at his brother's back. He looked ready to say something but in time gave up and lumbered back into the crowd toward his chair.
Cinderella watched him go and gasped. "Wait. I promised your mother—"
The prince caught her hand and she slipped free.
"I do not wish to dance with you at this very moment, sir. Isn't that clear?"
"A slight like this will not go unanswered," he warned. "Now stop making a spectacle."
Their squabble drew the king's focus away from his dancing guest. He looked beyond pleased with the turnout but squinted at the sight of Cinderella's plight.
Upon closing the space between them, he asked Cinderella, "Child, whatever is the matter?"
She glanced from the king to the prince then back again and said, "I'd promised a dance to dear Mr. Archibald—"
"Prince Archibald?"
Cinderella blinked in surprise. "Oh, he is a prince?"
The unwelcomed prince at her side grumbled under his breath, "As if you didn't know."
The king narrowed his gaze at his nephew and said through gritted teeth, "You'd be wise to win her favor for what you've done, because you will not be winning mine until that time."
"Uncle, it was a harmless jest. Surely—"
"A harmless jest that could have soured talks? How am I supposed to one day trust my kingdom to someone with actions that are so...?"
"Imbecilic," Cinderella offered.
Two blue eyes trained on her as the prince turned his head.
"Imbecilic, is right. It's perfectly correct," the king declared.
"We don't need talks, Uncle, we have might."
"His people have diamonds. Why use might when diplomacy is an option?"
"Well, so are guns."
The words garnered no answer, in fact, the king stared at him in disgust. "Those are the words of a man who has never seen battle. The words of a coward."
After swallowing down his reply, the prince bowed. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. I will win your favor again."
When the king was silent that time, the prince forced a smile.
"And I'll start by apologizing to this lovely lady."
Cinderella answered, "Oh, you needn't make the effort."
The prince growled, "Someone of your poor refinement making it in here must be nothing short of a miracle."
"Miracles are necessary for unpleasant things. So, you can call it magic if you like, because I feel like encountering someone of your caliber with such a poor disposition is the true miracle."
Fury wafted off him. "You'd dance with someone demented on a lark? Or a coachman? What sort of lady are you?"
"I'd prefer their company to that of yours, yes."
The prince whipped his head around to face her, eyes staring daggers. While the king chuckled, the prince said through gritted teeth, "You keep talking, but I think I should shut you up."
Cinderella narrowed her gaze and challenged, "I think you should make the attempt. Yes."
The man in the mouse mask leaned closer to whisper by the king's ear and the man laughed.
"But perhaps they should dance with one another," the king insisted. Gongs sounded, indicating the time. "It would be good luck to start the year as such."
The prince forced a smile, but Cinderella looked horrified.
"Oh," she said with a gasp. "It's midnight already. Oh, I must be going." She gave the king a deep curtsy. "Your Majesty, please excuse me, but my magic only lasts until midnight."
He opened his mouth to answer but she hiked up her dress and took off.
The mouse watched her go, gave off a chuckle, and whispered to the king once more.
He received a nod as the dance ended and his guest returned.
It was not easy for Cinderella to get out of the ball. People flocked to her, talking frantic and asking questions.
My focus was too greatly fixed on the mouse because I realized too late that the prince was gone as well, chasing after her.
"You...rude.... And you're a liar. You can have your coachman wait until one dance," the uncouth prince called.
"It's no lie, sir." Cinderella raised her hands to refuse the dances offered to her as she weaved through the people. "Pumpkins don't keep after midnight. Farewell."
"I will not allow you to dishonor me!"
My worry for her nearly took me in that direction but one familiar word kept me firmly rooted near the king.
The man behind the mouse mask removed it when saying goodbye to the king's guest.
That guest in turn took a step back and said two words, one of which I knew. And I knew it because it was what Edmond always said to Raphael before a scolding.
With a shake of the head, the mouse replaced his mask and turned to leave.
The coachman translated for the guest.
A moment later, the slighted prince, winded and confused, came back this way, scanning the crowd.
"Have you seen her?" The men at his back helped him look and he told them, "Split up. And find her."
That was our cue to leave as well. I wanted to seek out Piglet and Poppy, but I needed something far more important.
I rushed to the coachman and he smiled at the sight of me.
"Your daughter is very kind."
"Sir, that word you said, what does it mean?"
He blinked at me. "What? What word?"
"To that man. The word he said to that man."
"Oh. That was a name."
I narrowed my brow then repeated the word I sought out.
His eyes widened, "Oh. That word. That means...."
The world dimmed. Everything looked narrow for a moment. Everything went black and when it came back into focus, I turned and forced my way through the crowd, much like Cinderella but with more determination.
I caught sight of him as I reached the steps. He was halfway down.
"You cad!" I screamed. "You absolute, and utter cad!"
His body stiffened but he didn't turn so I made my way down to him instead.
"You miserable...." Once I was close enough, I turned him to me and repeated the word he'd used often in my presence. One I was oblivious to. "Prince. You are a prince?"
Body stiff, he moved not a muscle.
"And you'd walk away, never once telling me?"
He took off the mask and turned to me and I nearly broke into tears.
"You...."
Edmond.
I wanted to break him in two and fling him into the ocean.
Before I could open my mouth to convey that much, a ruckus came from the top steps. The king's guest hurried down, speaking frantically in a language I'd heard now and then in passing with Raphael and Edmond. I did not know if it was the same one but it sounded just like it.
The poor coachman hurried to intercept.
"I'm sorry, friend. But he insists it's you." Once they were all together, the coachman took Edmond in. "But I can see why. You do look like him a bit."
Edmond's height nearly mirrored that of the king's guest who was younger. When they stood before one another bare of their masks, however, their blood relation became apparent. It was more than just a bit. Their resemblance was stark.
The guest said something, and the coachman translated. "He says you are the spitting image of his father—the king."
They waited but Edmond offered nothing beyond a parting of his lips.
"Over twenty years ago," the coachman translated, "one of his father's concubine fled with her two sons. The second one his father, the king, makes no claim to, but the first was his son—a prince. That is one reason for this prince's desire for favorable ties now, in an effort to find his long-lost brother. Surely, sir, you are he. And he wishes to invite you home."
Eyes narrowed, Edmond shook his head. "He's mistaken."
I made a sound, perhaps, for all eyes drifted to me. My pulse raced. A prince. I searched myself for any semblance of calm, anything I could feign. The truth in those words stunned me. It hadn't been my imagination that Edmond had carried himself differently. He was a prince, and now his salvation had come.
Therefore, I waited for him to take it. I wasn't the only one. Perhaps Edmond waited, too. For over twenty years, he'd been in need of rescue.
As they squabbled, I focused on the bottom of the steps where Gareth's little carriage rested, a blue tint inside came from someone in hiding. Cinderella. She was safe. And she was in...her pumpkin, without a care in the world.
She appeared far away for a moment, but then the world started to spin. I looked up to find the sky tilted on its side and my knees buckled.
"Miss!" someone yelled.
Edmond caught me. "What is wrong?" he demanded.
But I couldn't focus.
"What is wrong!"
I lost power though I could still perceive his pleasant face staring down at me.
He swooped me up in an instant and hurried down the steps to the carriage.
"Out," he screamed.
Cinderella must have listened because within minutes, I was sat upright, Edmond crouched up in the carriage. He pulled the curtains and tapped my face.
"Wake up. Wake up. Are you all right? Wake up!"
"I suppose this is a fitting end," I muttered. And the world went black.
"Get back in here. We have to leave now." Edmond's voice vanished along with all light.
The blackness faded and returned, again and again.
My eyes dimmed but perceived something, a face. A young face.
"Arabella?"
At my next blink, she stood beside someone.
Raphael. He grinned as he peered down at me. "Are you going to make it, I wonder?"
Arabella slapped his arm with a laugh. "Don't tease her. You know how she is."
They looked lovely beside one another.
A sob left me, but I wasn't sad. "You're together."
My body jerked, though I couldn't understand how. I was in someone's arms, someone who kicked forward, perhaps on a door. The world zipped by in shades of gray and black. And then it stopped.
"Get out!"
Edmond.
Raphael laughed. "Get out, get in. Get out. It's not like brother to be so indecisive."
Arabella looped her arm in his and put a kiss on his cheek. She rested her head there but gave me a smile and said, "Don't lose him."
And then they were gone.
My dress loosened, unraveling with a cut.
Once the cold air hit my bare chest, the world zipped back into focus.
A large body huffed and puffed over me, tears falling on my face.
It took some time for feeling to return to my fingers. I was in bed, Edmond straddling me, holding my cheeks.
My hands trembled but I held his face in both hands and he kissed me.
All thoughts rushed to the door and whether it was locked but I did not really care.
Edmond put our foreheads together and demanded, "What is wrong with you? Have you taken something? Anything?"
I shook my head, though it was hard to manage it.
Had I?
There was nothing. And then it occurred to me and I confessed, "I haven't been eating well. That is all."
"I'll prepare something."
But I grabbed hold before he could leave—I couldn't stand the thought of us parting.
"Please, stay here for a moment."
After he glanced at the door, I waited.
Once he locked it and returned, he lighted the lamps and retrieved my nightgown.
It was late when he climbed into bed beside me. I worried for Piglet and Poppy but was sure they'd fare well. They had a carriage driver.
At this moment, I held on to Edmond. He was still dressed for the party but clung to me, pulling me to him as if my presence was his rescue while it was the other way around.
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