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I finally finished Midnight Cinderella on my lunch break. It had a happy ending, of course. The protagonist, a commoner who became a princess overnight thanks to a variety of strange circumstances falling into place, chose her prince consort from the various stunningly handsome young men she met in the palace. The new couple was in love and on track to become the next king and queen. That was where the story ended, just like so many stories of that kind. It left the reader to imagine the perfect, joyful, passionate life the young couple would share forevermore in a world where age and tragedy never struck.
At least, that’s what I imagined.
I closed the book and sighed, leaning back against the bookcase behind me and snuggling deeper into the decorative throw blanket I borrowed from a sofa. The gardens outside the alcove window seat were devoid of people, but the storm was losing its force. There wasn’t any wind now, and the steady rain fell straight down, gentle and apologetic to the battered roses. Puddles of water collected fallen leaves and flowers, reds, pinks, greens, and whites swirling with gray. Mother would have liked to see this, I thought. She must have her new blanket by now, and I pictured her cuddled up underneath it, smiling as she listened to the rain. Maybe she was reading by candlelight, her slender fingers turning the worn pages of her Bible, her eyes tracing my father’s elegant script in his journal. She had to have both books memorized by now - at least the journal, with how often she read it.
I wondered for the thousandth time what my father was like. Mother never talked about him. I didn’t even know his name or my last name. He was an enigma, known to me only by the foreign script Mother wouldn’t translate and the rare glimpse of unguarded emotions in her eyes. Did their story start like Midnight Cinderella, full of hope and the promise of a bright future where they would always be together and nothing would ever come between them?
Theirs wasn’t a fairy tale ending, anyway.
But it was almost one o’clock, and I needed to stop daydreaming and start working. I’d finished the polishing, and Prince Luke’s room was next. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be as disastrous as Prince Nokto’s room. I didn’t know if Prince Chevalier was even coming to the library today, but he would probably worry if he did and I wasn’t there.
“You look real comfortable.”
Prince Luke’s voice didn’t surprise me, and I looked up at him, standing over me with his friendly grin. The little bear charm dangling from the sword belt strapped across his chest danced slowly, telling me he’d only just arrived. The charm seemed odd when I first met him, but now I thought it suited him. He was like a big teddy bear.
Maybe he was like an actual bear in battle, I thought, noting the massive sword hilt angled over his right shoulder.
“I am, thank you, your highness, but it’s time for me to get back to work,” I replied, pushing the blanket back and swinging my legs around to the floor to stand up. “I finished what I needed to do, so I can clean your room next, if you’ll tell me where it is,” I continued, folding the blanket and not looking at him.
“Nah, it’ll be easier if I just show ya,” he said, following me to the sofa where the blanket belonged.
Maybe he was just being thoughtful. I didn’t have a reason to get nervous yet, I reminded myself, draping the blanket across the back of the sofa. This would be fine. He was twice my size, yes, but he was also very sweet, and unless he was an entirely different person in his bedroom, I had nothing to worry about.
“That probably would be easier, Prince Luke, thank you,” I said politely. “I’ll just need to stop at a storage closet to get some cleaning supplies. Does your bedding need to be changed?”
He shrugged, and the bear charm went into a little dance again.
“I dunno.”
“Then I’d better bring a change of sheets along, too, just in case, your highness. Have you found Prince Chevalier yet?”
“Nah.” He held the door open for me and followed me into the hallway. “He does this sometimes. Guess even he’s gotta take a break, ya know?”
I nodded, but it seemed strange that Prince Chevalier would miss an important meeting without telling anybody. The blood from yesterday morning flashed through my mind, and my stomach turned. What if something happened to him?
“Something wrong?” Prince Luke prompted me.
“No, sorry, your highness,” I said, shaking my head.
Prince Chevalier had been surviving assassination attempts since childhood. He was probably fine.
“Did the meeting go well?”
“Yeah, I guess. Clavis pretty much handled it, since I couldn’t find Chevie, and Nokto’s not around.”
“Prince Nokto’s missing, too, your highness?” I asked, the nervous tension growing.
Prince Luke smiled down at me reassuringly.
“You don’t have to worry ‘bout Chevie and Nokto. Everybody in Chevie’s faction takes off all the time for one thing or another. They’ve all got their own territories to manage, and then they’ve got their knights to train, and business dealings - all kinda stuff. It’s not like Leon’s faction, where they tell each other what they’re up to every minute.”
“So, Prince Chevalier’s faction is more independent, your highness?” I asked to clarify.
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. They all do their own thing, and they only tell each other if they feel like they gotta. Nokto’s real good at trade agreements, Clavis is kinda Chevie’s right hand, and Chevie - I don’t even know what he does all the time, but he seems like he’s everywhere at once, and he knows everything, not just in Rhodolite. Bet he could tell you what Prince Gilbert in Obsidian had for breakfast this morning.”
Prince Clavis was Prince Chevalier’s right hand? Even though he hated Prince Chevalier and wanted him dead?
“And what do you do, Prince Luke?” I asked, shelving that question for later and stopping at a storage closet for supplies.
He grinned sheepishly. “Nothin’.”
“I don’t believe that, your highness,” I said, filling a bucket with what I guessed I’d need and leading the way to the princes’ bedrooms. There was a linen closet on the same hallway, just before we would reach the bedrooms, and I’d stop there for sheets. Or maybe I should see what color Prince Luke liked before I did that.
“Prince Chevalier doesn’t tolerate laziness,” I continued. “He must have you doing something.”
“Not really. Clavis and Nokto talked me into joining Chevie’s faction, but they haven’t had me do anything yet, ‘cept carry messages sometimes.”
“Well, that’s something, anyway, your highness.”
The hallway was empty except for us. All the other princes were probably eating lunch or working, I thought.
“This one’s mine,” Prince Luke suddenly said, reaching around in front of me to stop me and open the door we were walking past. I took a quick step back to avoid running right into his chest.
“Prince Luke, a little warning next time, please,” I reprimanded him.
“Sorry. Guess I got distracted,” he said, his leaf green eyes not looking sorry at all. “It’s kinda a mess in there.”
I frowned at him and walked into the room. It was big, spacious, and mostly empty. Wood molding decorated the off-white walls, and a single large golden chandelier hung above the massive bed. It occupied a place of prominence in the middle of the room, set at an angle over a plush green and gold rug. The dark oak frame matched the hardwood floor and the only other piece of furniture, a bureau next to an enormous window that made even Prince Luke look small. Green and gold draperies and two potted plants framed the window on either side, and a large teddy bear sat next to assorted jars of honey on top of the bureau. An open suitcase sat on the floor next to the bed.
“Oh, this isn’t so bad, your highness,” I said, my voice echoing in the large, empty space. “Prince Nokto’s room was a disaster compared to this.”
“Ya were in that sleaze bag’s room?” Prince Luke asked, frowning.
“Once, your highness,” I replied, setting my supplies down and stripping the green and gold bedding. “I almost slapped him.”
Prince Luke laughed. “Ya probably shoulda.”
“Why haven’t you put your luggage away, Prince Luke?”
“I dunno. Still doesn’t feel right being here.”
“Well, I think you’ll feel more at home if you do, your highness. And you could decorate a bit more in here. It seems kind of impersonal right now.”
“But I’ve got my honey collection,” he said, striding across the room to his bureau and picking up a jar. “Do ya like honey?”
“I think everybody likes honey, your highness, but I’m guessing you like it more than most if you have a honey collection.”
He popped the lid off the jar and stuck a finger into the pot, bringing it out dripping gold, sticky liquid and popping it in his mouth. “Mm. This one kinda tastes like blackberries. Did ya know the honey tastes different depending on the flowers around the beehive?”
“I didn’t know that, your highness.”
“Honey made around here tastes like roses.”
I left for new bedding, and when I returned, he was sitting on the bureau, swinging his legs in front of him like a child while he ate his honey and kept up a steady stream of casual conversation. He moved from the bureau to sit cross-legged on the bed when I finished making it, and I worked while we talked, eventually moving from the bedroom to the bathroom. Maybe I had been mistaken about him, and my first impression was correct. He was just friendly. Maybe he was naturally flirtatious, too, but he meant nothing by it.
“Well, I think I’m done, your highness,” I finally said, straightening up to survey the clean bathroom.
“Ya work fast,” Prince Luke commented from the doorway, where he’d been leaning against the frame while he talked to me.
“The faster I work, the faster I’m done, your highness,” I replied, dropping my scrub brush in the bucket and heading for the door. “If you always keep it this neat in here, you can probably get away with having a maid come in only once a week.”
“Are ya volunteering?” he asked, not moving from his position.
I stopped in front of him, nerves fluttering in my stomach again from the contrast of his innocent, boyish grin and the threat of him blocking the doorway.
“I’m really not the only maid who works here, Prince Luke.”
“Yeah, but you’re the only one I like talking to. Wanna try this?”
He held out a honey-dipped finger toward me. Flashbacks of Prince Chevalier and the beignet filled my mind, and I shook my head quickly. “No thank you, your highness. If you don’t like talking to the other maids, you must not have talked to the right ones. Excuse me.”
To my relief, he stepped aside, but it didn’t surprise me when he followed me across the room and out into the hallway.
“So, whatcha doing now?” he asked.
Questioning my life choices.
“I’m going back to the library, your highness. If you still need Prince Chevalier for anything, you might see him there before too long. He always comes at two thirty.”
Prince Luke shrugged. “Nah, I was only looking ‘cause Clavis told me to for that meeting. Ya just gonna work all afternoon?”
“Of course, your highness. I’m here to work.”
“Ivetta!”
We’d turned the corner to the hall next to the library, and Prince Yves was coming from the opposite direction, carrying an enormous chocolate cake. The excitement in his voice shone in his bright smile.
“Hello, Prince Yves,” I called.
“What’s that for?” Prince Luke asked.
Before he could answer, Prince Yves tripped. Everything seemed to slow down. I watched in horror as he fell, his deep blue eyes suddenly wide with shock as the cake slipped from his hands. Prince Luke bolted toward him, somehow catching the cake at the last minute. Prince Yves landed face first on the floor.
“Prince Yves! Are you okay?” I asked, hurrying to help him up.
“Nevermind me! Is the cake okay?” he asked frantically.
“Yeah, I got it,” Prince Luke said, balancing it on one palm while he maintained his grip on the honey jar with his other hand. I looked from him, this massive man with a boyish grin, a teddy bear charm, and a jar of honey, to Prince Yves, his normally perfectly styled honey blonde hair disheveled around his flushed face, and I couldn’t help myself. I burst out laughing. Prince Yves’ blush deepened, but his face relaxed, and he, too, started laughing, as did Prince Luke.
“Where do ya want this?” Prince Luke finally managed to ask as the laughter died down.
“In the library,” Prince Yves said, wiping his eyes. “Oh, I forgot plates and silverware! I’ll just-”
“I’ll get it, your highness,” I intervened.
Poor Prince Yves. He was so accident prone. I hadn’t seen such a spectacular display as that when we were working in the kitchen together, but he was constantly tripping and dropping things. He was incredibly graceful and poised - except when he wasn’t.
I made a pot of tea and got nine of everything, assuming that news of Prince Yves’ cake would travel quickly and bring the rest of the princes into the library. Prince Chevalier wouldn’t like that, I knew, but then, he might not even come. Prince Nokto might not be coming, either. The fewer princes, the better, since I was going to have difficulty getting any work done at this rate. It seemed like they had finished their work for the day, and they couldn’t understand that mine wasn’t.
Maybe I should just enjoy it while I could. I’d have to empty that bucket when I got home, and that was not something I was looking forward to.
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