Chapter 40
ELLA
LICHTENSTEIN CASTLE
Tonight should be the most magical night of my life. The prince, who looks oddly familiar, is dancing exclusively with me. My family has no clue about my true identity. And my dress is the talk of the ball. Fiona really outdid herself.
Except I’m miserable. Those brief minutes with Jacob ruined me. How can sitting on a ruined fortress wall, wearing tattered rags, be more special than this? But last night’s kiss haunts me. And now all I can think about is how I want to do it again.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to search for Jacob, but despite myself, I spot him while dancing the allemande and nearly mess up the entire procession.
He’s glowering off to the side, looking like he’s ready to murder a Forbidden monster.
I swallow hard. Now I’m on the Grimm brothers’ list for termination.
I lift my shoulders back and smile brighter up at the prince, determined to make the most of the night and enjoy myself. By the time we take a dancing break, my mood improves. The prince hands me a glass of punch.
“You and the Grimm brothers seem close,” I say, unable to purge Jacob from my mind.
“They work for me from time to time.” He shrugs. “This morning, we returned from a horrifying adventure. The good news is I was able to uncover who has been conspiring against me.”
I freeze mid-sip. “You were with them last night?”
“Now don’t you worry about me getting hurt.
” He winks. A sickening feeling settles in my stomach.
I know that smile. Wait. I definitely recognize those sparkling green eyes.
The prince is wearing a freshly powdered wig, and his face is powdered white, but if I lean closer…
a red curl peeks out from the side and his right eye is tinged blue. I gasp, jerking backward. It can’t be.
Except, it is him. Fritz is Prince William.
He turned into a frog, and I turned him back to a human with a kiss. I press my fingers to my lips.
I feel dizzy.
“What’s wrong? Is the punch too strong?” Then his smile widens, and he waggles his eyebrows. “Or did you want something stronger?”
He’s a Forbidden. Jacob knew all along, the scoundrel.
What if the magic powder my aunt gave me wears off, and the prince recognizes me? I lightly touch my cheeks to see if it’s still in place because if not, it could be disastrous. A lady gallivanting about the countryside unchaperoned and kissing the prince would be the scandal of the kingdom.
“You do look a little flushed,” the prince says, brow knitting. “Perhaps we should find a quiet corner to chat. Just the two of us.”
I back away, heart tumbling. “I need to go home. Now.”
“Please don’t go,” the prince—the frog, no Fritz—begs. “I’ll walk you out and keep you company.”
I plant on a smile, acting as if not a thing in the world bothers me, nor that I’m imagining him as a frog. “Actually, some one-on-one time with a drink would be nice. I’m going to freshen up, and then we’ll have our chat.”
“Brilliant.” He beams.
It’s the same expression he had standing half-naked in the Grimms’ house. Heaven help me. I spin on my heels and make for the closest exit possible, pushing through the crowd. I’m nearly there when I plow into a man, laughing with two others as they swig from steins of brew.
“Excuse me,” I say.
“Ella?” the man asks. “Is that you?”
I stare into the face of my father. His eyes narrow into suspicion. My pulse pounds against my temples.
“You have me confused with someone else,” I say and hurry away.
Desperately, I exit the castle but pause at the fork in the path. My frazzled brain can’t remember which direction the horse stalls are.
“Hello, there,” the prince calls out as he races out of the castle, chasing after me. “You took a wrong turn.”
Behind him, I spy my father, barreling through the archway, his tailored black coat billowing like wings.
I dart away and hurry into the first building I come across.
I slam the rickety wooden door shut and drag a crate in front to keep it secured.
Spinning around, I’m met with squawking and feathers flying.
“The pigeon house?” I whimper at my idiocy. There isn’t time to give myself a lecture because someone begins pounding on the door.
“Please, princess!” the prince says. “I don’t even know your name.”
And then an even more terrifying voice says, “Give me an ax. I think that’s my daughter.”
Father.
The sound of chopping cracks through the air as the metal head of an ax slices through the door, wood splintering around me. I jump backward and circle the pigeon house for an exit.
“Climb!” one of the pigeons cries.
“Fly, princess!” another says.
I press my hands to my ears. It’s either thinking about the birds or my panic is forcing my secret identity to be exposed.
Talons cut through my hands. Feathers nip at my skin.
My heart pounds as fire rages through my veins.
That’s when Jacob comes climbing through the back window. Leave it to him to be resourceful.
“Ella.” He holds out a hand. “Come with me. I can get you back home safely. Your father will never have to know.”
“No.” Tears edge at my eyes. I can’t let Jacob see who I really am, see the monster breaking out of me. “Go. Just go.”
My eyes land on a ladder that rises to the rafters.
Desperately, I scale its rungs, ripping the material of my perfect golden dress.
By the time I reach the tiny window in the rafters, the door crashes open, boards flying.
Fear explodes inside me, and my chest bursts. I’m shoved off the ladder, and I fall.
Terror spears my stomach.
Now they all will know the truth.
But then my wings catch the air. I’ve transformed. With a few simple flaps, I lift my tiny body up and away from the chaos below.
“Where did she go?” Father asks. “Did you see her?”
“The fair maiden?” Jacob asks. “I scoured the place. No sight of—”
But his words fall away because I’m sailing out the window and into the endless night. Free. Unharmed.
Except now my secret is safe with the very man I need to keep it from the most.
Back home, I land once again at my mother’s tree, weary and a bit terrified. There must be something about it. It’s like a homing beacon that calls me back to where I belong.
“How did it go?” Fiona asks, startling me so greatly I fall off the branch and thump to the ground. This is becoming an irritating habit.
Instantly, my feathers crumble to soot, the claws fall away, and the beak crushes into dust. I groan, rolling onto my stomach.
“You need to stop scaring me when I return,” I say. “I can’t keep falling like this.”
“Sorry, I was just so excited.” Fiona flutters through the air, morphing back into her half-human, half-bird state.
Her brown feathered dress flaps in the evening wind.
She reaches a hand to help me up. “Tell me everything. Did you dance with the prince? Did you get any compliments on the dress? How was the food?”
“It was the most magical evening ever.” I throw my arms around her. “Thank you for giving that gift.”
“Did the prince ask you to marry him?” she asks like she already knows the answer.
“What? No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Fiona looks shocked.
“I had to leave. I think my father recognized me. What time is it?”
“Time? It’s been so long since I thought about time.”
“Has my family arrived yet?”
“I’ll ask the ravens.” She spins in a whirlwind of feathers and takes off into the night as a bird.
If only I could transform so easily. Fear nips at heels, chasing me. I hurry to the house. Time as a bird feels so different. I’ve no idea how long I’d been flying, but I’ve a vague sense it’s longer than I would’ve liked.
When I step into the cold kitchen, I’m so tired and cold in my flimsy gown, I could collapse. I manage to get a fire going when the door to the house opens.
“Cinderella!” my father booms from the hallway.
That’s the first time he’s ever called me by that name. I sit up in terror.
“They’re here,” Fiona chirps, landing in the kitchen window. “You returned just in time.”
“No, I didn’t! I’m still wearing the gown you gave me and my hair.” I stare at my dress. It’s ripped and soot-covered from the transformation, but when they see me, they’ll recognize the gown, and there will be no doubt I’d been at the ball without their permission.
“Your dress!” Fiona gasps. “It’s a disaster.”
The sound of footsteps clomp down the hall.
“Where’s my old gray dress?” I ask. “I need it!”
The door flings open to reveal my father, along with Stepmother and my stepsisters, hovering behind him. He’s still gripping the king’s ax. I tremble at the sight. Would my own father use it against me?
“Cinderella,” Father says, a little deflated. “Have you been here all night?”
I look down at my dress to discover I’m wearing my gray one. Except perhaps it’s even dirtier than I remembered it being. How did Fiona manage that?
“Yes, Father,” I lie, praying Mother would forgive me. “All night. Sitting by the fire, hoping you had a wonderful time. Would you care for some coffee?”
“Oh. So it seems.” His eyes flicker in confusion.
“No coffee tonight.” Stepmother steps forward, studying me intently. “The girls must get their beauty sleep to prepare for another important day tomorrow. The prince showed great interest in them, especially Marianne. If things continue, you may be calling Marianne, Your Highness.”
Once they leave, I sag onto the hearth, noticing my silver slippers have vanished as well, leaving me barefoot and cold.
From my spot on the floor, I gaze out the window at the castle, illuminated in the moonlight.
The wind carries with it the sounds of music and laughter. Memories of the night assail me.
Spinning around the dance floor with the prince.
Being wrapped in Jacob Grimm’s arms.
Flying on the wings of the night.
Sitting by the fire in a soot-covered dress.
I tuck my knees to my chest, trying to understand which girl I’m meant to be.