Cinder Ella Read online

  "Yes, Highness."

  "Well, you've done a good job. She's very sweet."

  "Thank you." Ella blushed again and tried to cover it with a bow.

  The princess turned to the lady who'd followed her. "Lily, where's Lord Myron's invitation?"

  Ella frowned. Lord Myron, his wife, and kids had been the guests they entertained just yesterday. Eleanor thought they might be a good entry to the circles of lords and ladies. Lily scowled, "Oh no. You are not going to use his. You need to deliver it."

  "I'll send him a pigeon later today."

  Ella's eyes went wide but she wisely kept her surprise to herself.

  Lily didn't. "Absolutely not. He'll be so offended—"

  "As he should be! He knows I don't favor him, especially the way he was looking at you during solstice."

  "He was drunk," Lily grumbled.

  "Ugh. That is not an excuse." The princess rolled her eyes hard enough to turn back to Ella. "He's an utter cur," she said with a drawn look. Ella looked to her dog and the princess corrected herself. "He's worse. He has no manner of decency at all." She reached for Lady's muzzle and kissed at her, "Not at all like you, beautiful girl." She straightened and held her hand out at her lady. "The invite. I've decided."

  Lily rolled her eyes but winked at Ella. "Don't worry, I'll regret the decision for you." A piece of bright white paper passed between them and the princess motioned for Ella to come closer.

  "I'm having a party in a few days. My mother thinks I should be considering who I'm going to marry, so all the lords and ladies are going to be there—" The princess waved her hand, "Blah. I won't lie, it'll be full of stuffy people and probably quite boring, but I'd be delighted if you could come." She held out the invitation.

  Ella blinked. "Me? A ball?" She didn't know what to make of it. This was happening too fast for her to keep up.

  "Well, you like dogs, I like dogs, and that means we have more in common than half my suitors for marriage already." She smiled, tilting her head. Sunlight caught the tight strands of her hair like a halo. "And you're cute."

  Ella blushed hard. Somehow, she reached out and accepted the invitation, smudging the perfect white card with her dirty fingers.

  The princess bit her lip; her eyes lingered on Ella as she turned away to climb back into the carriage.

  Ella glanced around, suddenly struck with the need to give something in return. She hastily clipped a budding flower from her striped rose bush and rushed down the walkway. "Princess!"

  The princess leaned out of her window. Ella offered the rose. The princess took it with a bright, wide smile just as her carriage lurched forward and clattered away.

  Ella stood in the walkway with a stupid grin on her face for some infinite amount of time. Eleanor would be furious for missing the royal visit, but Ella didn't care in the slightest. The princess wanted her at the ball.

  The abrupt chill of reality crashed over her. The princess wanted him at the ball. Cole. The man she saw working in the garden with his dog. The man she wanted courting her for possible marriage.

  Ella flipped open the card. It was written with beautiful, curving letters and gold ink, but there was nothing that indicated Cole or Ella was the one invited. In fact, it could belong to anyone. Ella sat on the walkway, suspended between sour hope and tears. It was probably for the best. Eleanor wouldn't consider letting her go in the first place. Not if she could help it.

  Lady leaned against her and whined. Ella took a deep breath and thrust herself back onto her feet. There was nothing for it. She left the invitation on the table just inside the door and went back to digging in her dirt. This she knew. This she could handle. A ball would just highlight how very out of place she was among the gentry. And maybe her stepmother would appreciate that Ella got the invitation for her.

  --//--

  "You did what?" Eleanor towered over Ella, her face reddening in her rage. Behind her, Elisa and Emily tittered behind their hands.

  Ella lowered her head further and refolded the napkin in her hands. "I accepted the invitation. I thought you and the girls would want it."

  "And you thought maybe you could tag along, see the sights?"

  Ella squeezed her eyes shut to stave off tears. "No, of course not."

  "Of course." Eleanor slid the invitation onto the table beside her. It still bore the brown stains of Ella's fingers in the dirt. "And why didn't you have me summoned to entertain her Highness directly?"

  "There wasn't time. She was riding by in her coach. She didn't plan on stopping. It was brief."

  "Lord only knows why she would have stopped for you." Eleanor's up-and-down glance said more than enough. Fat. Dirty. Worthless.

  Ella let the words wash over her. Crying before what amounted to judge, jury, and executioner would only make things worse. Eventually Eleanor scoffed and waved her away. Ella scrambled out of the sitting room and away from the snickers of her stepsisters.

  Lady followed her around, ears back, tail tucked. Ella gave the kitchen a rough check, but she couldn't keep the sorrow inside. She ran for her bedroom, leaned against the door, and sobbed. The tears fell wet and heavy. She sank to the ground and pushed Lady's questioning nose away. This couldn't be fixed with some cheerful thoughts. She held her knees up tight and buried her face so she could weep long and hard without someone complaining about the noise. Her nose ran. Her face was wet. She hiccoughed and shook.

  For the first time in a long time, she wished her father was here. The cleaning she could handle. The snickers and talking she dismissed. All Ella wanted was to know someone cared.

  The princess' voice echoed in Ella's head, You're cute. She swiped at her eyes and used a rag to wipe her nose. Ella craned her neck to look out of her window. Her tears caught in her throat, flowing back inside. She deserved to go to that ball. She'd caught the princess' eye. She'd trained Lady. She'd been out there gardening at the right time. And even if she had to go in a suit, she'd do it if that was what the princess wanted.

  A star glittered across the sky, falling somewhere toward the castle. Ella whispered, her hands fists in her apron. "Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight." She closed her eyes hard enough to see spots. "I wish I could go to the princess' ball. Please, oh please." She repeated it over and over in her head, wishing as hard as she could.

  When she opened her eyes, nothing really seemed different. Lady still looked up at her from the floor and the stars twinkled the same way. But she was calmer now, and maybe she could get some sleep. Ella rolled out her patchwork blanket and settled down by her cold fireplace. Lady curled up at her back.

  Chapter 3

  Emily and Elise were beside themselves. As Ella tried to clear the dishes from breakfast, tidy the kitchen, and start the laundry, her sisters ran around the house like four-year-olds on a sugar rush. They screamed at each other in their excitement, and when the expected knock on the door came, they screamed again. Ella dried her hands and headed for the door. Emily pushed her to the side in a rush to get there first.

  She hauled open the heavy oak, exposing the tall, severe angles of a woman Ella had never seen before. She was dressed boldly; a dark suit with minimal ruffles highlighted her square figure. With her not-quite-a-frown turned on Emily, the girl settled down to a steady vibration in her place. An awkward curtsy. "Welcome! We've been expecting you."

  The woman turned her sharp eyes on Emily who also curtsied. Then to Ella. She wrung her hands in her apron and met the woman's stare. Who was she?

  The woman swept her gaze across them all a second time. "I take it you are in need of a new wardrobe, then?" She settled on Ella and her not-a-frown evened out a little. "I'm here to make all your wishes come true."

  Ella blinked. Emily squealed and the woman swept Ella's sisters outside. She turned away as if her words hadn't been for Ella alone. As if she hadn't said exactly what Ella needed to hear.

  A step on the stairwell made her flinch toward her stepmother. Eleanor scowled at her. "What are you waiting for, boy? Go help them."

  Ella hurried outside. The tailor, for it was rapidly clear that's what she was, had parked her coach on the cobblestone road just beyond the house fence. It appeared to be much like any other coach Ella had seen, but with the backside modified into a fold-open closet. The girls were already there, pulling dress after dress off their hangers, cooing over the fabrics.

  Ella approached from the side, carefully, like the entire coach and its owner would disappear if she breathed too hard. The woman deftly maintained control of both Elise and Emily, manipulating their attention and mood with the kind of skill only Eleanor had previously displayed. It seemed she did so effortlessly. And when Ella approached, the woman caught her eye, then looked pointedly at the coach.

  Ella looked. A riot of organized fabrics stared back at her. She touched a dress carefully, delighting in the rough texture of the puffy fabric that gave so many gowns their bell shape. And the smooth flow of the top pieces, tightly woven and shimmering. Ella didn't have names for what they were, but each one was more beautiful than the last, catching the sunlight between the fibers and holding it there.

  Ella dug deeper into the racks and found a stout handle in the back wall. She cleared a space and pulled it out. A long, hidden compartment slid toward her on oiled balls, the dresses inside popping free of their storage. The rack extended beyond the end of the cart.

  And while the dresses were brilliant, Ella was immediately suspicious. She walked around the cart while her sisters cooed over the new dresses. She leaned inside the window of the coach and frowned. There was no way that rack fit inside. It didn't make any sense. It was longer than she stood but the closet was only as deep as two or three of her hands.

  Puzzled, Ella returned to the rear of the cart and dug into the back. She found several handles along the wall. Each of them held a new rack of dresses. Each of them was too long. The weight alone should have tipped the cart back. It was like magic.

  The tailor reached past Ella's shoulder and pulled a light green dress away from the wall. Her angled hand exposed a new handle. This door hinged open, taller than Ella and almost twice as wide. Bright lights spilled out and she was drawn closer. Ella covered her mouth and stepped inside the room. It was bigger than the kitchen. Maybe bigger than the sitting room. And lined wall to wall with dresses the like Ella had never seen before.

  The floor was white, the mirrors were edged in gold, and a neutral lounge stood in the middle, ready for dress after dress to be draped along it for comparison. Light spilled out of the edges somehow. Ella turned around, amazed. The tailor had followed her in. The woman stood with a little smile on her face, hands together behind her back.

  Ella whispered, "Are you of the Fae?"

  The tailor might have inclined her head a little. Or maybe she smiled wider. The shimmer that echoed over Ella's eyes made it hard to tell. But she asked, "Have you found something you like?"

  Ella turned around again. "Oh, I couldn't possibly choose. They're all so beautiful."

  Then Emily and Elise tumbled, chattering, into the space, and it suddenly lost some of its luster. As her stepsisters manhandled every dress on every rack—comparing, yelling, arguing—Ella tried to turn away from them and leave.

  Then she saw it. Tucked between two cream dresses and a cloak, the bright turquoise blue caught her eye like it had been waiting for her.

  Ella was drawn toward it, a powerful thing pulling her along. She pushed the cream dresses to either side and lifted it out of the rack. It rippled in dazzling purples, refracting the light. She knew this seamstress. This was a Thea van Lokin dress. The Thea dress Ella had been memorizing for days in the little pamphlet she had secreted away in her room. One of a kind. The color so rare they couldn't even re-create it for the pamphlets.

  "It's going to be mine!" Elise snatched the dress from Ella's hands and lifted it high over her head. "Look at this one Emily!" She sing-songed, "I found my dreeeeess."

  The tailor reached her hand out, frowning deeply. "You don't want this one."

  Elise narrowed her eyes. "Why not?"

  "Look at it." The tailor lifted the bottom hem. "None of the stitching is locked. This seam here isn't straight. The gather back here is going to fall apart at any moment. Did you see this neckline?" The tailor made a sound in her throat. "I mean, you could take it if you want, but everyone will know you just went to your local girl for a knockoff of something you found in a pamphlet."

  Ella watched in amazement and Elise's expression turned from triumph to dismissal with each fault the tailor pointed out. Elise dropped the gown in Ella's arms with a disgusted snort. She moved on, rifling through the dresses with her lips pressed tightly together.

  The tailor winked. Ella flipped the hem up. Checked the seams. Looked at the gather and neckline. Ella knew the Thea van Lokin dress inside and out. This dress was genuine and somehow Elise had been convinced otherwise. She covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.

  "This one. This is the one." Elise announced. She had pulled a green, layered gown against her chest to look down as it cascaded over her body.

  The tailor waved her outside where Emily already waited, her own peach dress glittering in the light. Ella hung the turquoise gown on an empty hook on the wall. She stroked its liquid fabric and smiled. There was no way her stepmother would let her attend the ball, and she'd have to go in a suit anyway, but for a moment she'd seen the best dress ever made in person. She would remember this day for the rest of her life.

  Ella closed the dressing room door behind her, slid all the racks back into their seats, and carefully closed the tailor's cart without catching any trains or ribbons in the seams. Everyone had already run inside for fittings.

  "Cole!"

  Which she was late for.

  Ella jogged up the walkway. Both Elise and Emily wore their new dresses and the tailor moved between them, pinning, adjusting, and making them twist and turn with questions. She sent Emily to walk down the hallway and back to check her fit, then Elise. No detail was spared. Eleanor watched from the stairs, her heavy attention fixed on her daughters.

  The tailor made alterations right there in the sitting room. She refused to let either girl go until their dresses fit with the kind of precision that only personally made garments could. As her hand whipped around with thread, she glanced up at Ella, then further to Eleanor. "Will anyone else be fitted?"

  "My dress is already suited to my taste." Eleanor said.

  The tailor looked at Ella. "And you have something ready as well?"

  Elise scoffed. Eleanor waved her hand, "He won't be attending."

  The tailor stopped stitching. "Aren't you all listed on the invitation? You did get a personal invitation, didn't you?"

  Elise frowned, "Of course we did."

  Eleanor pointed. "Elise, grab it. It's on the side table."

  Ella ducked her head but the tailor pinned her with a sharp stare. Ella had seen the invitation from the princess' own hand. It wasn't personalized. Her name, any name, wasn't on it.

  Elise returned with the invitation in hand. She cleared her throat. "You are hereby invited to a— blah blah, boring, ok, here we are." Elise pointed to her mother. "Mrs. Eleanor Jones." She splayed her fingers on her own chest. "Miss Elise Jones." She pointed casually at her sister. "Miss Emily Jones." Then her hand dropped and she glared at Ella.

  The tailor, her mouth full of pins, made a questioning sound without looking up from her work.

  Elise ground out, "And the only child of deceased Mister Edward Jones."

  Ella looked up, wide-eyed. Elise's jaw was tense. The tailor didn't meet her eyes, intent on her stitching. She looked up at her stepmother and found Eleanor already halfway down the stairs in her rage. "Give me that thing." She snatched it from Elise's hand and scowled. She tossed it in Ella's direction. "This was blank yesterday, how dare you—"

  The tailor cleared her throat. "Wouldn't the princess know who she was inviting? I mean, she does know you, right?"

  Eleanor straightened, "Of course."

  Ella flicked her attention from her stepmother, to the tailor, and back. This wasn't possible. How was her name on the invitation? Well, not her name, not Cole Jones and not Ella Jones either. Not even son or daughter. The only child… Ella breathed too quickly. How much did the tailor know?

  The tailor said, "Well, if everyone's listed, then everyone has to go."

  "I'm not going to spend a small fortune on a suit he's only going to wear once." She grimaced at Ella, "You don't deserve it."

  The tailor nodded, as if this were an argument that made a lot of sense. She gathered the fabric she was working on and began a new stitch. "Well, if you were trying to make a point, you could always pick out a different dress."

  Elisa gasped, her eyes wide like saucers. "Mother, yes."

  Emily flapped her hand. "Oh, oh, Elisa. The knockoff you found. The junky one in the back room!"

  Ella straightened, "No!" Her protest was more disbelief than anything. How could this woman manipulate her family so easily? She'd only been here for an hour or two and already Ella's world was turned upside down.

  Elisa laughed and in that moment Ella wouldn't have been surprised to see horns sprout from the top of her head. She deserved them. "Mother, it's perfect. Please, you have to."

  Eleanor sighed, put upon. "Alright, show me this dress."

  Elisa scrambled out the door to go get it. Ella put a hand over her mouth, staring back and forth between her stepmother and the tailor. The tailor winked. This wasn't happening. This was absolutely not happening. She had to be dreaming.

  Elise returned with the one-of-a-kind Thea dress clenched in her fist. She was wrinkling the fabric and Ella covered her face. This was going to turn into a nightmare any moment now. She wanted to fall through the floor in her embarrassment.

  The tailor shook out Emily's peach dress, now altered, and handed it to her. "Put it on, let me see it." Then she gestured for Ella to take the shimmering turquoise gown as if she was just another client to take care of. "Go put it on. If you're going to walk around in a knockoff, you should at least have it tailored so you don't embarrass your family."