It was important to allow people the chance to try, even when you knew them incapable. That was Edmond's excuse for allowing Arabella her arrogance.

On our last vacation day at Grandmother's, she was convinced she could achieve anything. Still bound to the chair far longer than I'd expected, Raphael refused to acknowledge her with a glance. Instead, he sat, the most vexed I'd ever known him to be.

"There are things that are possible and things impossible and it's best you accept such things."

We stood in the fields, intent on picnicking one last time for our holidays. The basket in my hands was not at all heavy, but I forced myself to focus on it and not the mounting tension.

This anger was unlike Raphael. He nearly reminded me of Edmond, lord of all things serious.

At first, I wondered if they were putting on yet another one of their many acts in an effort to fool either Edmond or myself but when Raphael caught the wheels, forcing Edmond to stop pushing him, I could see it, this was no jest. He was angry.

I looked to Edmond for help, praying he'd have an answer to what caused all this. Edmond met my gaze, shaking his head.

Arabella's rage was genuine to the point of something primal. "You are a coward."

"And you are foolish."

Bella gasped, as did I. It was Edmond who walked around the chair and demanded, "Apologize."

Raphael turned his face away.

We waited, and when it became all too clear that the boy would never comply, Bella clenched her fist.

The hurt in her voice made her words vibrate. "I only meant it in a good-natured way. You took it wrong!"

Her voice carried on the wind, taking all our collective calm with it. Today, I prayed they were putting on yet another act. But she didn't move and neither did he.

Bella refused to back down. "Everyone is capable of anything—"

"Horse manure."

This time Edmond caught him in the collar. "Stop this."

We tensed. I'd never witnessed Edmond and Raphael quarrel, though there were times we'd visited them in the past in which both had bruises. But if two warring brothers looked anything like two warring sisters, I worried.

The basket I clutched kept me grounded. It weighed down my spirit that threatened to float away from the disappointment. This had started as such a nice walk, albeit silent at first.

"Leave him," Bella said, "for I will prove it." She marched before Raphael, emboldened.

With that, I understood. It'd happened, finally. Raphael'd caught her in a lie, some type of deceit that he'd genuinely taken at face value.

Thieves had an understanding, so, too, I imagined, did actors—liars. They'd worked in tandem to trick me into believing Raphael had tried to fly. They'd worked together in countless pranks. But now, she'd taken it one step too far somewhere in their comradery and pulled a prank on him—one that mattered, one that hurt him to the core.

"Give me a challenge," Bella said, "and I don't mean flying, or any nonsense, but something physical any human being can do."

"It's not so simple," Raphael grumbled. "Let us forget it." He told Edmond, "Hurry, so we can go back."

The dismissal was unreal.

Over the years, I hadn't noticed. And I hadn't noticed because Raphael barely spoke. He didn't carry himself within his ranking.

Edmond always had.

As I saw each of us as friends, deep down I knew there were lines between us all and they were fine if unspoken. But for him to ignore Bella, someone technically his charge, I was alarmed.

I waited for Edmond to correct Raphael's behavior but was surprised when he instead took hold of the chair and set off.

"Wait." Arabella stared Edmond down. "I was not finished."

Though four years her senior, Edmond complied.

She wasn't done with Raphael; she was making the lines known.

"We will not advance until you take back your words."

Bella wasn't the only one arrogant. Raphael's ennui bordered disdain. He met her gaze and asked, "So everyone is capable of anything?"

"Anything," she affirmed. "Absolutely anything."

After gazing at her for some time, he directed his chin to the path ahead up the hill and challenged, "I could no more do what you've suggested than you could push me to the top of that hill." Raphael warned her, "I outweigh you. I'm sedentary, and there is a drop. Should you attempt it, you'll take us both down. Then it won't be only me chair-bound."

Arabella look from me to Edmond then to Raphael. Though siblings, Edmond and Raphael differed. Edmond was tall, far taller than anyone I'd ever met, but he was slender. He had muscle but most of his advantage was in his height. Raphael resembled the stature of the men in my family. He was stocky as well and must have outweighed Bella by half her body weight. She was taller than I by a fraction, however, but I could not imagine having enough power to push that chair steadily on a solid flat surface much less a hill.

Arabella returned Raphael's hate-filled gaze then told Edmond, "Stand back."

I let out a groan. "Bella. Be reasonable. You've already broken his legs."

She ignored me and brushed Edmond aside. The hill on the left side was broad but lined with trees. As such, the only path rested on the right, and the steep drop that came with it. Across from the gully was the main road below. Should anything go amiss, we might never get out.

Panicked, I hurried to beg Edmond to intervene but unlike Raphael, he honored his status and obeyed the order.

Bella gripped the handles and started to run. Her idea was sound if not for the drop. She'd use speed to get her part way then force after that.

"They're mad!" I insisted.

Edmond let out a sigh. "He's a fool."

With that we could both agree, and yet, Edmond made no motion to intervene.

I wasn't about to let this nonsense play out. With one heft, I shoved the basket into Edmond's hands and took off after them. Perhaps I could help her.

But to my amazement, Bella was halfway up.

I slowed to watch them, stunned.

She was doing it. Something I hadn't thought possible.

With sheer determination, she got to the summit, but stopped.

Gravity'd caught up with her.

Even from this distance, I could see the fatigue cause her slender body to shake. She couldn't advance, but worst yet, the chair was coming back down, with her back against it.

She planted her feet, and I gave off a shout.

The voice to call out belonged to someone else. On the road, the opposite side of the deep ditch, our carriage slowed to a trot.

My mother screamed again, scrambling out.

Bella slipped back, letting out a shout.

"Edmond!" I called.

As a consequence of his height, Edmond hadn't the gift of speed. He wouldn't reach in time.

"Just let the chair fall!" Mother ordered.

But it wasn't simply the chair, Raphael was still inside it. Rather than obey the order, Bella instead turned and tried to hold it up with both hands outstretched.

Grandmother peered out of the carriage, a fact that horrified me. "Typical! I might have known."

Arabella's foot slipped and she took a tumble. Raphael leapt from the chair and turned in time to catch Bella by the waist and yank her close lest she fall into the gully as well. They landed on the ground together.

She trembled in his hold, eyes shut so tightly that she bore no witness to Mother's horror.

"Get your hands off her."

But with Mother having no way of crossing to us, I was in motion.

I reached the top and pried Bella free.

With how much she trembled, I expected her to be relieved. But instead, she wore a look of loathing, a direct contrast to Raphael's satisfaction.

He'd sobered her finally, but it came at a price.

Gareth's father and eldest brother were also in the carriage.

It was the last time we'd visit Grandmother but I learned an important lesson: thieves and liars in cooperation were a force, but once pitted against one another, they'd stop at nothing to bring the other down.

As such, it was of the utmost importance that we were all on the same page as of now.

It took the better part of two months but we found Cinderella's talent in time for the new wedding date.

"We'd marry our way out of this," Poppy had suggested.

Instead of a small event, she sent out invitation after invitation, even to those far above our station. The successful responses surprised me. It made the day tolerable, because while it was me swearing away my freedom, it was a grand opportunity for my girls. They would show off their talents. Poppy was masterful at the piano, practicing day and night for the main event. Piglet's voice was tender with how well she sang, but Cinderella stole the show once the guests were adequately primed.

A grand book in hand, she sat in the loveliest frock Piglet had, weaving the most engaging story I'd ever heard. Something was familiar about it, the style perhaps, but relief washed over me. This was her talent. She could do beautiful readings. Arabella's gift to her saved her. Coupled with Poppy and Piglet's skill and regal, guests, the likes of which impressed me, walked away rather pleased.

Once the story ended and Cinderella snapped the book closed, Poppy met my gaze, smug.

I nodded my affirmation. Finally, something going well. Never mind the lengths we went through to provide this banquet. Should our neighbors fail to count their chickens for some weeks, we'd pulled off the perfect heist.

And best yet, Cinderella could read. I'd worried.

"Cinderella cannot read," Poppy informed me in the study once the last guests said their goodbyes.

I still wore my wedding dress, a brown frock of a simple design, as I slowed to turn to her.

Edmond was sure to close the door.

Poppy waited for him to return to the desk before she met my gaze. Today, as promised, she wore no veil. But as she had a reddish birthmark from her right brow to cheek, a thin line that darkened whenever she blushed, she used her hair to cover it, thus nearly covering her right eye as well. The result was alluring usually, but with the news she delivered, it made her look sinister.

"She cannot read," Poppy repeated. "But she can tell a story, and very well in fact."

I circled the desk and stopped at the large window, gloved fingers fiddling with the curtains.

"This was a strong risk," I chided.

"Indeed. Should anyone have asked her to read yet another book, one they knew, it would have been more than obvious, but it was worth taking." Poppy said, "I invited every aristocrat I could to this event."

But none came.

"One came," she said, "one family and it's more than enough."

One? My inquisitive gaze was adequate, she understood my meaning.

"They came," Poppy held out her hand to indicate Edmond, "to see him."

Edmond leaned away but he had no need to feel anger, I felt it enough for both of us.

"How dare you?"

My daughter turned her steely gaze on me. "I refuse to die a pauper, not after father worked himself to death for us."

That shut me up.

After calming, she said, "So I threw everything I could at this wedding. And I do apologize but better to ask forgiveness after the fact."

I didn't dare look at Edmond for fear he was less than pleased.

"And it worked well," Poppy insisted. "Today alone we were invited to two parties. We—"

"Very well." I needed her to allow me to change the subject. But not before I told her, "But you are never to use Edmond as a prop again. Are we clear?"

The curtsy was slow and deliberate.

"Are you pleased?" she asked.

A question that threw me. Why did that matter?

I met her blue eyes and saw that it had mattered, quite a bit.

"Yes," I admitted. "Very pleased."

Despite that, I had to say something.

Poppy anticipated my words. "Cinderella cannot feign literacy. I understand. Instead, we'll train her to perform. Perhaps we could even accompany her on the piano during a small show."

Filled with pride, I nodded.

Poppy smiled, a rare sight indeed, and turned to make her way out.

Piglet waited outside but her whisper carried as the door closed. "Well?"

"She was pleased," Poppy insisted. "Thanks to your brilliant idea."

"Did she know it was from me—?"

The rest lingered in the room until I braced forward on the desk, letting out a held breath. We could do this—we could manage. Marrying off my daughters did not appeal to me but neither did leaving them destitute. We could manage.

I turned to apologize to Edmond but he interrupted me, saying, "I have some ideas."

A soothing wave of calm washed over me.

"Speak," I begged.

"Let the cook go. The wages you give her aren't enough for her family anyway. Let her seek employ elsewhere."

I gasped. "But—"

"We'll hire a soldier. In times of war, they are good at rationing and scavenging. That is what we need now. We are on the brink," he reminded me. His eyes held pain when he confessed, "It's the carnival for me, ma'am. The novelty of me and my kind being here has long since worn off. Today, I no longer garner the king's attention, as you can see. Children I grew up with have either gone off, traveled, or gone into battle. It's no accident that I am still here, but I do not venture out from the property much."

"The only carnival we will visit, Edmond, is as spectators," I assured him.

Now, for a bigger problem, making it known to Gareth that there would never be a wedding night.