Page 4 of Charmless
“Blast it all, Amy! How many times must I tell you to stop taking my things without asking?”
“Never mind,” Em interrupted. “It is a very good thing Amy did borrow your shoes if it enabled the prince to find you. But His Highness must not be kept waiting. Ella, you must get dressed at once. You should wear that same lovely ball gown that enchanted Prince Florian…”
She trailed off as she spied the crumpled pile of silk on the floor. As she picked up the gown, a few dried leaves fluttered loose from when I had fallen into the bushes during my effortto escape the prince. Em heaved a deep sigh as she saw the torn fabric at the waist-line and the soil marks on the silvery skirts.
“Well, perhaps not,” she said, discarding the gown atop my bed. “But you must have something suitable to wear.”
She moved toward my wardrobe, but I got there first, barring her way before she could open the door and catch a glimpse of those strange glass shoes. I am usually very good when it comes to handling a crisis. I could only blame my slowness this morning upon lack of sleep and food.
My wits finally reasserted themselves. I convinced Em that she needed to go down to the parlor and keep the prince entertained until I could properly attire myself to receive him. Chasing the girls off to their own rooms, I prepared to slam the door, but Amy lingered on the threshold.
“Only think, Ella,” she cooed. “When I wed Prince Dashiel, we shall be sisters- in- law.”
I shot her such a dark look that she hastened on her way. As soon as I was alone, I pressed my hands to my brow to think. Part of me still wanted to make a run for it. I could get dressed, climb out my window, shimmy down the vines and seek asylum with Mal in his shop except all those palace guards and most of the neighborhood were gathered outside my garden gate. I cringed as I imagined the speculations that must be circulating through the crowd.
The only way to put a stop to this farce was to confront the prince and refuse his proposal as politely and firmly as possible. I had no idea how Florian would take my rejection when he was sober and with half the town waiting outside. If he ended up humiliated, it was his own fault for turning this into such a public spectacle.
I opened my wardrobe and after considering my sparse selection, I deliberately donned my oldest, most worn gown. At one time, the muslin had been dyed a soft blue, but many washeshad reduced the fabric to a dismal shade of gray. I did not bother brushing my hair. I just bundled it beneath an old kerchief I used when dusting.
What a pity it was summer, and my fireplace was so clean. I would have been tempted to rub ash on my face as well. I still regarded my reflection in the mirror with satisfaction. I could have easily been mistaken for a scullery wench. Perhaps it was a forlorn hope that Prince Florian would be discouraged by my drab appearance but let’s see if His Highness remained as eager to claim his bride after I introduced him to the work-a-day version of his mysterious beauty.
I crept downstairs, still in my bare feet. When I reached the parlor, I eased the door open a crack to peek inside. The majordomo stood to attention, one hand behind his back, the other supporting the silk cushion with my old shoe. Prince Florian prowled up and down the parlor, causing my stepmother to tuck her feet beneath her chair.
Em fanned herself as she regarded the prince’s mounting impatience.
“Oh, dear,” she murmured. “Whatever can be keeping the girl?”
“Why don’t you go and find out?” Florian snapped.
When Em flinched, the prince produced his charming smile and amended his tone. “That is, I would be so grateful if you did so, madam. I cannot contain my eagerness much longer.”
That was my cue. Fortifying myself with a deep breath, I pushed open the door and announced cheerfully, “Here I am, Your Highness.”
Em’s relief at my arrival turned to dismay as she took in my appearance. The majordomo was too well a bred a servant to display too much reaction, but his eyebrows arched slightly.
The prince halted in the middle of the parlor. He looked me up and down in disbelief. “Who is this?”
“Why, Your Highness, it is I.” I simpered and dipped into a demure curtsey.
Prince Florian appeared so thunderstruck I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. Em ruined everything by hurrying toward me and exclaiming, “This is my oldest daughter, Prunella. She is so witty and playful, always ready with a jest. She keeps us all in stitches.”
Em forced a nervous titter. “It is quite naughty of you, Ella, to tease your poor prince by dressing up like a beggar woman.”
Em wrenched the kerchief from my head and made a desperate attempt to finger comb my hair into some semblance of order. I pushed her hand away, but the prince’s daunted expression had lightened at the sight of my blonde tresses tumbling about my face.
“You see?” Em said. “Thisisthe girl you are looking for. The one that so charmed Your Highness last night.”
The prince studied me through narrowed eyes. “Perhaps. Majordomo, the shoe.” Florian snapped his fingers at the servant as though summoning a dog.
If the little man minded, his impassive face gave no sign of it. He came forward, solemnly bearing the pillow.
“When my lovely lady vanished last night, the only clue she left me was this shoe.” Florian struck a pose, clasping his hand over his heart. “I swore I would wed no other than the beauty whose foot fits into that slipper.”
Em sighed at this romantic declaration, but I cocked one eyebrow in skeptical fashion. I was certain by this time that Florian recognized me from last night, so what was the man playing at? I had no idea what had inspired this idiotic game with my shoe, but the prince had greatly miscalculated.
That dancing slipper would likely fit a great many women in this kingdom, but thanks to Amy stretching out the leather, I was not one of them. That loose shoe had rubbed a great blister onmy heel last night. As the majordomo knelt to try the shoe on me, I suppressed my gleeful anticipation of the prince’s chagrin when the slipper was not a perfect fit. I would not be obliged to endure another proposal from him after all. Having made such a melodramatic vow, what else could he do but gather up my shoe and slink away?
I thrust my bare foot forward and heard Em suppress a mortified groan. After running around outside this morning, my foot was not exactly clean. The majordomo, however, was not deterred by my grubby appendage.
