Reign of Cinders and Glass (Fated Fairytales #1)

Chapter 50

50

Ella

Two hours after I was unceremoniously evicted from the castle, I pushed through the front door of the manor, my feet tired from the walk and my heart aching. The guards who’d escorted me home waited until I was inside, then departed—taking with them the knowledge of where I lived.

A deep unease fell over me as I looked back toward the spires of the castle in the far distance. Would the sisters come to exact their revenge? Or perhaps the new queen might stop by to eliminate her rival for the prince’s attention.

I quickly locked the door and bolted it—not that that would do anything against the strength of an immortal—then dropped my bundle of things on the table. “We’re home, Pip.”

The little rat peeped his head out, then let out a sharp squeak and disappeared as my stepmother swept around the corner in her nightgown. “Ella! I didn’t think you could visit. This is excellent timing.”

I shook my head, suddenly feeling too weary for the conversation that I knew was about to unfold. “I’m not visiting. They ended my service.”

He’d ended it . Maybe it had been to protect me, or maybe it was to protect his own interests. It didn’t matter—he’d tossed me out like rubbish.

My stepmother froze, her expression drawn tight. “What? Why?”

Because I’d learned too much. Because the new queen would kill me. Because I’d pressed my luck one too many times.

I angled my neck so she could see the evidence of that fateful morning. The one that had changed me, for better or worse. “At first, the prince was interested. Then he wasn’t.”

It wasn’t far from the truth.

The blood drained from her face. “You let him feed off you? Do you have any sense in that thick skull of yours?”

I hesitated. I wanted to say, He was protecting me . But then she would ask me why, and I wouldn’t be able to speak. It would only create more questions and confusion and suspicion.

“I was poking around and needed the cover,” I said at last. I’d find a way to explain the truth once I had my head straight.

“Foolish girl,” she said, her face pinched. “Your job wasn’t to poke around . It was to keep a low profile and wait for instructions.”

Too tired for this, my patience evaporated. “I didn’t hear you complain about any of the information I sent. I was doing everything I could.”

“And now you’re fired. I should have known better than to trust you with this.”

Her words stung like a slap across the face. After all I’d done, after everything I’d endured and risked, this was the reception I got?

But a part of me feared she was right.

She turned and headed into her study, and I followed. “You’re acting like this is my fault,” I said.

She spun and gripped my shoulders, her fingers digging painfully into my skin. “Of course it’s your fault, or you wouldn’t have been relieved of your position. We needed you inside the castle, now more than ever.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to know what is happening at that ball! And now our eyes and ears inside the castle went and got herself expelled because she never learned her place.”

Hadn’t Cassius said as much as well? Hadn’t everyone said that?

Bile burned the back of my throat. “What do you know about it? Since I walked through the castle gates, I’ve been beaten, hounded, humiliated, chased, and fed from. I kept my head down and endured it all to help you and the resistance.”

“Wonderful,” she said bitterly as she dropped down into the chair behind her desk. “How does that help us now?”

No matter what she believed, I was still worth something. I straightened my spine and stared her down, refusing to let her make me feel small. “You want to know what’s going on with the ball? I can tell you everything. I know the staff assignments, the schedule, the menu, what the decorations are going to be, who’s invited, who’s been snubbed—anything you want to know.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her brow. “Maybe there’s something we can salvage.”

My nails dug into my palms. She was no different than she’d always been. My best was never good enough.

She pulled a stack of parchment from her desk and set a pen and inkpot on top of it. “I need you to write down everything you know about the preparations for the ball, the staff duties, and who’s attending. And I need it by tomorrow morning.”

I took the writing materials, and stared down at them, exhausted. “Why so soon?”

She scowled. “Because the ball is in two nights, so next week will be too late.”

“I meant why is the ball so impor?—”

“Because I asked for it, that’s why! Your job isn’t to question every single request. It’s to follow orders. Do you understand?”

I held my tongue, reminding myself that this wasn’t for her, but for the resistance. “I’ll get right on it.”

She nodded. “I also want maps of the castle as far as you know it. Every floor you’ve visited, with the servants’ passages marked and labeled.”

“By tomorrow morning as well?”

Her mouth sharpened into a razor-thin line. “Yes, before it slips out of your scatter-brained head.”

Ignoring her words, I shoved down my exhaustion and hunger and the lingering disappointment of the day, and took a seat at the dining table, resolved. I’d prove my value and show her that it hadn’t been a mistake to send me. I’d fill her with more information about the castle than she could dream of.

I worked tirelessly into the night, writing and drawing by dim candlelight, until my neck ached and my hand cramped. The work was, in many ways, a mercy. With everything that had happened, I doubted that I could have slept. Pouring out my knowledge kept me from thinking about him , even if I couldn’t shake the sharp ache in my chest that felt like it might swallow me whole.

Eventually, Pip scampered up the curtain and dropped down on the table. You should eat.

My hand froze, mid-stroke above the paper, and I lifted my gaze to the rat. “What did you say?”

I’m starving, and your stomach has been rumbling for hours. Loudly.

I opened my mouth and then closed it. I could hear Pip’s voice beyond the castle walls. Was our connection strengthening? Wonder threaded through me. “How is this possible? I couldn’t hear you before.”

Pip scratched his ear. Maybe your magic’s getting stronger? Let’s steal some food while the evil woman is asleep.

He bounded off the table and scurried down the hall. Shaking my head, I rose, my body protesting as I followed him into the larder.

I retrieved a little ale and hard cheese, which delighted Pip and improved my condition greatly. By my second mug of ale, Pip was asleep on the settee, and my pen was flowing across the page as I relived each step and detail of the castle.

After completing my notes about the kitchens, I pulled a blank sheet of paper from the pile and paused, my pen hovering above it. As much as my stepmother wanted it, everything I’d written didn’t truly matter. What I desperately needed to tell her about was the mages and the truth of what they were: immortal traitors and the dark power behind the throne.

I had to try.

There are three mages in the castle , I thought as I dipped the pen and pressed it to the paper. The muscles in my hand clenched, and as I tried to force the words out, the nib scratched a jagged line across the paper.

Gritting my teeth, I carved the words on the parchment letter by letter. A jolt ran up my arm, and my bicep seized. I jerked back, then stared down at the paper, frozen.

Seven jagged letters stared back at me. SILENCE .

A shiver ran down my spine. “Holy Fates.”

Whatever knowledge I had was going to die with me. Maybe there was a way around the mages’ curse, but it wasn’t going to come to me tonight.

I crumpled up the parchment and threw it in the fireplace, then pulled a new sheet and rubbed my aching hand. I might not be able to reveal the truth about the mages, but there was still plenty to do, and I set to work in feverish defiance of all I could not say.

Sometime later, my body was rolled to the side with a shove. “What are you still doing here?”

I sat up with a jerk, shielding my eyes from the light streaming through the windows. The shape of my stepmother formed in front of me. “You’re a mess,” she decreed.

Pip was nowhere to be seen, and my notes were strewn across the table. Crisp, neat handwriting covered the first sheets I’d filled, but it became progressively looser, and the final sheets were jammed with cramped and barely legible text.

I swallowed. It looked like the work of a madwoman.

My stepmother eyed the half-finished mug of ale with a scowl. “You were drinking?”

“Yes, I was.” I scooped up the papers in order, along with my maps, and shoved them into her hands. I was too tired to put up with her snide remarks and incessant orders. “This is everything you asked for. I’m going to bed.”

“What about breakfast?”

I paused by the stairs. “You’ve survived without me this long. I think you can manage.”

Ignoring her protests, I dragged myself up the stairs and collapsed into the warm comfort of my own bed, delighting in the luxurious folds of the blankets.

For better or worse, I was free of the sisters and the prince. I wasn’t going to be anyone’s servant anymore.