“One winter, a terrible fever spread across the kingdom. Out of the goodness of her heart, the queen sent all the royal physicians to look after the people. There weren’t enough doctors, so on some days, she went, too. Then things worsened, and the fever took her.”
Cinderella drew a sharp breath. “Poor Charles.”
“It was a dark time,” Lenore continued. “The Grand Duke’s father took advantage of the king’s grief. For years, he’d been threatened by the power fairies possessed, by the influence we could have on the court. He took advantage of the growing distrust and fear already rampant in the kingdom against our kind. He blamed us for making the queen too kind, too selfless. Rallying those who were already rounding up and executing fairies, he hunted the high fairies who had blessed the queen and destroyed their wands. The king, distraught, listened, and he forbade magic in Aurelais and banished all fairies, warning that it we ever returned, not only would our wands be broken, we would be imprisoned for life.” Her voice deepened. “That is why we have been living in exile.”
“Oh, Lenore,” Cinderella whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“I tell you this only so you are careful, my child,” said her godmother. “There are those in this castle who are very content with the way things stand—the present Grand Duke being one of them. I have heard that he has taken up his father’s causes with gusto.”
“What about the Duke and Duchess of Orlanne?” Cinderella asked. “I found something in the library that I think they wrote to one another years ago, about trying to help.”
Lenore smiled sadly. “The Duke of Orlanne did his best to fight the ruling, and he lost much of his support in the council doing so. He and the duchess warned many fairies when the Grand Duke would begin his hunt.”
“The duchess is back now,” said Cinderella. “She could help. And the prince...” Cinderella couldn’t give up the idea that things could be different—for all of them.
Lenore’s voice brightened slightly. “The prince’s love is what you deserve, my dear. But the duke will be suspicious of you once he learns of Charles’s affections. Even more so if you start talking about magic. Be happy, and keep yourself safe. Do not interfere.”
“But Fairy Godmother, I—”
The grandfather clock at the end of the hall began to chime, cutting off Cinderella’s reply. She glanced back, making sure no one else had entered the hall.
They were still alone, but when Cinderella turned back, the painting had gone still.
“I’m going to help you,” she promised.
Charles was waiting for her in the glass conservatory before the garden entrance. He started when their gazes met, lurching slightly forward and nearly tripping over his shoes. Cinderella chuckled, and the prince’s eyes filled with mirth.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she began. Her voice trailed as she remembered what Lenore had said about his mother. She wanted to ask him about magic, but Lenore’s warning to be careful was fresh on her mind. She’d wait until they were outside of the palace and out of range of the duke, with his “ears” everywhere.
“I got a little sidetracked in the gallery.”
“And here I thought Aunt Genevieve was the one keeping you,” Charles teased.
“She did give me a few extra chores,” said Cinderella, grateful when he didn’t ask if she had told the duchess yet that she was his intended bride. “I don’t think she’s very happy with me right now—I brought her the wrong type of tea three times.”
She blushed sheepishly, and as his smile widened, her stomach gave a pleasant flutter. She smiled back at him. “I guess my mind was somewhere else.”
“I’ve become quite familiar with the feeling,” confessed Charles, gesturing at his clothes. “I might have put this shirt on backward twice today.”
“You?” she said playfully. “I assumed you had a valet who dressed you. Maybe two.”
“Since the day I was born,” replied Charles in a serious tone.
“Really?”
“No.” He chuckled. “I am quite capable of dressing myself. Sometimes, I worry it’s the only thing I’ll be capable of.”
Though he tried to hide it, a note of melancholy colored the prince’s last words.
“You sound worried,” said Cinderella softly.
“I am,” Charles murmured. “So much has changed. It’s funny, the thought of one’s parents getting old. When we’re children, they worry so about us. Now I feel like things have reversed, and soon I’ll be expected to take on his responsibilities. I don’t know if I’m ready.”
Before Cinderella could reply, Charles brightened and gestured at the garden doors. “But we’ve lingered here long enough. Come, there’s so much I want to show you.”
“Where are the guards?” asked Cinderella. She’d been nervous about coming to this part of the castle, half expecting the guards wouldn’t permit her outside. But she hadn’t come across a single one.
“I dismissed them. As of today, anyone in the palace is welcome to enjoy the gardens.”
