Damnation: A Cinderella Retelling (Tales of Cinder Book 3) Read online

  “Stop there,” she said when we’d crossed half the expanse.

  The guard holding Maeve’s chains jerked her to a stop. My stepmother studied the older woman as she studied us, her gaze sweeping dismissively over Maeve, Cecilia, and Porcia before finding me. Her expression changed slightly, a combination of joy and sorrow.

  “You three stand accused of plotting against the Crown and for the use of magic. How do you plead?” the old woman asked.

  “Not guilty, of course,” Maeve said. “We’ve been brought here because one of my daughters has a cut on her heel and the other has a missing toe from birth. That’s hardly plotting against the Crown.”

  The King leaned forward.

  “Come now, Maverene,” he said. “Admit your guilt. Do you think I don’t recognize you? Did you think I would believe this a mere coincidence that you’re here now when so much evil has befallen my people? We both know better. I’ve been long awaiting this moment.”

  Some of Maeve’s mask of innocence dropped.

  “As was I, Aftan. Though I imagined our roles reversed. Me on the throne and you in chains, begging for your life.”

  “Are you saying you plan to beg?”

  She smiled serenely.

  “I didn’t then, and I won’t now.”

  “I thought as much. Your petty acts have—”

  “Petty? Petty! You arrogant prick of a man! My actions have never been petty. Unlike yours.”

  The King’s face reddened.

  “How you plea matters not. The court finds you guilty, regardless. Silence her and take her away!”

  A guard grabbed for her, and I felt a moment of panic.

  “Please, Your Majesty,” I said, stepping forward. “Silence her if you must, but do not remove her.”

  Maeve started laughing like a mad woman.

  “You see?” she cried. “My daughters are loyal to me.”

  A guard took a cravat from the nearest man and stuffed it in Maeve’s mouth.

  “Daughters?” the King said. “These women are not your daughters but your accomplices. You have no daughters.”

  Hate filled Maeve’s gaze, and she screamed something at the King.

  “Step forward, Eloise Cartwright,” he said, turning his attention to me.

  The mention of my name sent a low murmur through the room. I nervously stepped forward a few more feet. Neither he nor the older woman needed to tell me to stop. The slight tug in my stomach told me I’d gone far enough.

  “I knew your mother,” the king said. “She did a great many selfless acts in the service of this kingdom. Your defense of the vile creature behind you disappoints me. I expected you to be more like your mother.”

  My temper flared.

  “I cannot be any more like her. My every action has been to—”

  My throat tightened suddenly, choking the air from my lungs. Gasping, I still tried to force out the words that would convey all that I’d done and endured to attempt to stop Maeve. The spell gripped me harder, closing off my airway, which only increased my need to incriminate Maeve in every way possible. Strangled, pained sounds wheezed from my mouth until I could no longer breathe.

  Defeated, I fell to my knees and stopped trying. The ability to breathe slowly returned, and I drew in one ragged breath then another.

  A firm hand around my arm helped me stand again when I was ready. I looked up to thank whoever assisted me and met Greydon’s tormented gaze.

  “Eloise,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  I jerked away from his touch, angry at the whole damn Royal family.

  “It is not pity, then, that moved you to speak,” the King said.

  “No, Sire.”

  “Perhaps, I can help determine what has transpired,” Rose said, emerging from the crowd to the right.

  “And you are?” the King asked.

  “A simple old woman passing through Towdown on her way to Turre.”

  “Not simple,” Greydon said, stepping toward his father. “Like Maverene, this woman made her presence known shortly after I arrived at the Retreat. That she also uses magic is too coincidental to be ignored.”

  “Elspeth,” the King said, looking at the old woman near his dais. “Do you know her?”

  My shocked gaze flew to Elspeth. That was the woman from my mother’s letters? The muffled outrage from behind me said that Maeve had recognized the name as well.

  Ignoring Maeve, Rose and Elspeth considered one another.

  “I do not know her, Sire,” Elspeth said.

  “Nor do I know you,” said Rose. “Should I?”

  “No. What is your influence with magic? By blood or nature?”

  “Never blood and preferably not nature, though I will when I must.”

  “What do you use then?” Elspeth asked, her confusion clear.

  “Another, more infinitely powerful source that does not require any type of life sacrifice.”

  The crowd moved restlessly at that confession. I knew very little about the nature of magic with the exception of why all of it was so dangerous. Blood magic was dangerous in that it required a person’s life essence, which was what Maeve had used time and again. Nature magic was the use of the endless energy found in nature. That this woman had found another form was worrisome.

  “I require proof of your abilities,” Elspeth said. “To assure you do not use blood.”

  Rose chuckled, and a tingle started in my fingertips, spreading rapidly over the length of my body. Looking down at myself, I watched my gown change from plain to luminescent. From wool to silk. I ran my hand over the ballgown I’d last worn then touched the mask now covering my face. With a good measure of annoyance, I tugged it free and looked at Rose.

  “These walls clash with your gown, don’t you agree, Eloise?” she said. With a snap of her fingers, the colors on the walls faded from red to a soft blue leafed with golden filigree.

  A collective gasp echoed throughout the room.

  “I hope you like the colors,” Rose said. “As this is no illusion.”

  Elspeth looked at the King.

  “If it were blood magic, we would have felt it.”

  “Does that sufficiently prove my innocence enough for you to accept my assistance?” Without waiting for anyone’s approval, she continued. “Eloise is cursed. There are certain things of which she cannot speak without suffering a great deal of pain. It isn’t a magic I can remove. However, I believe Maeve or Maverene, or whatever name she uses, could if she were so inclined.”

  Maeve made an insistent noise behind her gag.

  “Let her speak,” the King commanded.

  The gag was removed, and she took a moment to wet her lips. Then with great show, she looked around the room before smiling at the King.

  “Why should I show pity to the kingdom’s apparent favored daughter when none will be shown to me?”

  The King’s face flushed anew.

  “Once again, you are not thinking clearly,” he said. “The kingdom may have decided your guilt, but we will not decide your fate. That, I will leave to Eloise. Do you believe she will show you pity when you’ve shown her none? Perhaps, freeing her now might spare you later.”

  A hot mixture of feeling flooded me at his words. I’d vowed Maeve would pay for all that I’d suffered, and now it would be within my power to see it done.

  Maeve’s gaze shifted to me. She smiled slightly and nodded her head at me in acknowledgement.

  “Eloise is far too much like me, filled with anger and loathing, to show any pity now.”

  Her words struck me like a knife because I realized how true they were. I wanted to be nothing like Maeve.

  “Then, you shall continue to enjoy the gag,” the King said.

  Maeve struggled but was gagged as ordered.

  Once the room quieted, Rose circled me.

  “Speak what you can,” she said. “Maeve cursed you because she sought to keep you silent about something. Most likely her actions. Tell me what h
as happened to you and to the kingdom since she arrived.”

  She wasn’t asking what Maeve had done or that I implicate Maeve in any way. She was asking me to relate events. I opened my mouth and tentatively spoke the first words.

  “My sister left in the middle of the night.” Admitting that truth, something that I’d already shared, was easy. The next was harder. “Our house maids died.” My chest tightened as I recalled their shriveled forms. They were the first of many. But not all by Maeve’s hand. Tears clogged my throat when I thought of Hugh.

  “Our manservant died, too.” The words began to spill from me. “As did many men in town. Many became ill. A small child died horribly. I walked the length of Towdown naked and covered in ash, vomiting. People threw rocks at me, among other things. One person showed pity. He was blinded. I was beaten. Almost raped. Starved. Chained.”

  “Stop.” Greydon’s broken plea pulled me from the memories.

  Angry, I looked up at him.

  “Why? Does your ignorance absolve you of any fault for what I’ve suffered? For what others have suffered while the Royal family stayed safely hidden away? Is it not your games for power and control that caused this?”

  There was a rustle of noise from the front of the room, and when I looked, I saw the King descending the steps of his platform.

  “Allow me to explain why the suffering was necessary,” he said. “Years ago, when I was closer to Greydon’s age, my father tasked me to find a suitable bride. He wanted me to choose a maiden from our kingdom rather than attempt to strike alliances with others. I toured the land, looking for a maiden who would not only capture my heart but make a suitable queen.

  “I thought I found such a maiden in Maverene. She was fair to look upon and kind and just in her dealings with others. Or so I thought. It wasn’t until she was faced with a test of fertility that her true nature was revealed. I released her, thinking her vehement cries for retribution no more than a woman’s wounded pride.”

  Maeve made loud sounds from behind her gag, but the King ignored her.

  “Then I found Sevil,” he said. “She was everything Maverene was not and became a true queen, who ruled fairly and justly at my side. However, a few years after we’d wed, a plague befell our kingdom. It was unnatural in its form and swiftness.”

  I recalled the beast Garreth had shown me in the Royal Retreat’s trophy room and shivered.

  “Your mother helped stop the spread, and for a few months, we found peace once more. But Sevil and I knew it was nothing more than a trick. An attempt to lull us. And because of that, we kept a precious secret. That of Sevil’s second pregnancy. However, such a thing is impossible to keep truly secret. During the final weeks of Sevil's seclusion, Maverene learned of it and began to attack the child while it still grew within Sevil. Only the amulet my wife wore kept the babe safe.”

  The King remained silent for a long moment.

  “The man you know as Prince Greydon is actually Prince Garreth, my second son. He was taken away by a trusted friend the moment of his birth. To keep him safe, we let the kingdom believe he was dead while we searched for Maverene. Too often, Elspeth would draw close to finding Maverene only to have her disappear again.”

  “Meanwhile, my sons grew, and I aged. Time waits for no man, and I was forced to keep the secret of my second son’s existence and send my first born to find a suitable bride. I had hoped Maverene had set aside her anger after so many years. However, when Prince Greydon’s wife died enroute to the castle, I knew the kingdom was not yet safe, and I needed to draw out the evil stalking us.”

  “The decisions made were never meant to retain power or control but to protect the kingdom from one who sought to hurt it. For, it was rarely the Royal family who suffered but our people.”

  The heavy weight that had formed inside of me the moment I learned Kaven’s true identity remained firmly in place. Yet, some of the anger lifted. Maeve had never sought to hurt the people but the King, through his people. And, after living with her for so long, I knew that had the King given up his throne or taken her to be his wife, the same misery would have still befallen the kingdom. That was Maeve’s nature. The King had made the best choice he had available to him. Hadn’t I done the same? Hadn’t those choices resulted in other people’s misery? I thought of Mother, Judith, Anne, Hugh, the small child, and Alfie. If I didn’t hold the blame for their treatment, was it fair to expect the King to hold the blame for mine.

  “Thank you for telling me, Sire,” I said.

  The King nodded and squeezed my arm compassionately.

  “The time for secrecy is at an end. I do not need you to speak against Maverene for me to know her guilt. You need only to speak her punishment.”

  An involuntary shiver ran through me as I was consumed by a severe chill followed by an uncomfortable heat. Inhaling sharply, I looked to Rose, who smiled slightly. Her words from when we sat in the kitchen of the Brazen Belle came back to me.

  I smiled in return and turned to look at the gagged woman who had destroyed my life.

  For the first time in months, I spoke freely.

  “Maeve has killed men, women, and children. I would say let her suffer those travesties. Shave her head, blind her, beat her, strip her bare, and let her walk the streets so the people she has caused untold suffering can judge her as they will.”

  King Aftan nodded.

  “A just ruling. So it shall be. Take Maverene away.”

  The guards began to drag her away, her cries of anger muted by the gag. The tug in my middle had me stumbling toward her.

  “Wait,” I called. “She cannot yet leave me. Nor I, her. If we’re separated, I will suffer sickness unlike anything I’ve felt before.”

  “Was it cast after my spell of protection?”

  I nodded, and Rose came to me, setting her hand on my heart and my head.

  “Good. That means it won’t have rooted as deeply as the first spell.” She remained quiet for a moment then made a satisfied sound. “Just as I thought.”

  Another wave, hot and cold, spread throughout my body.

  “Having them removed is much more pleasant that receiving them, isn’t it?” Rose asked.

  “It is. Thank you.”

  “You can remove Maverene,” Rose said. “Eloise will be fine.”

  The guard looked at the King, who nodded his agreement, and I watched the men drag Maeve away, feeling true freedom.

  “The hour grows late, and I have no knowledge of the two remaining women,” the King said. “Let them share the same fate as the woman they chose to call mother.”

  “Wait,” Cecilia cried. “Like Eloise, we were nothing more than pawns in Maverene’s pursuit of power. Tell them, Eloise. Tell them we had no choice just like when you killed your lover, Hugh.”

  Anger blinded me. With a cry, I flew at her. She stepped behind her guard and, with an evil smile, knocked him forward as he drew his sword for her.

  The honed edge of the blade flashed in the candle light as he stumbled toward me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Strong arms circled my waist and spun me about, sparing me from the blade but also keeping me from my target. I struggled against the firm hold as I was surrounded by guards. Instead of putting me in chains, they faced outward, shielding my struggle from the people gathered.

  “He wasn’t a lover but someone I loved,” I yelled. “And the fault of his death lies on you and the evil bitch you call mother.”

  “Settle yourself,” Greydon whispered in my ear. “Don’t allow her to cause you further suffering. You’re free from their will and better than they are in every way.”

  I inhaled deeply and calmed myself.

  “Release me.” He did so reluctantly, and the guards retreated, showing the two men who now held Cecilia tightly.

  She watched me with a malicious glint in her eyes. Even caught and sentenced for treason, there was no remorse within her.

  “At every turn, I watched your delight as others have suff
ered,” I said.

  “And you helped in that suffering,” she replied. “You sat at the same table. You put your safety before the safety of others. How are we any different? Why should I be punished when you walk free?”

  A murmur rose in the court.

  “Because, however small my actions, they were always to fight against the outcome you and Maeve wanted. You wanted to be queen, Cecilia, for you, not for Maeve. And if you’d wed Garreth as you’d planned, everyone would have suffered.”

  “Lies,” she hissed. “You have no proof.”

  “You wanted to break his charm of protection, and I pushed him out of the way.”

  “That was your attempt to break it,” she said, lying.

  “You poisoned his drink so he couldn’t walk me home.”

  I looked at Porcia, who had remained subdued since entering the court.

  “Do I speak the truth?”

  “You do,” she said softly. “Our actions brought unspeakable pain, suffering, and death to countless people here and across this kingdom. Any participation forced upon you was under great duress.”

  “Traitor,” Cecilia said harshly.

  “Your sentence, Eloise?” the King asked.

  “Shave Cecilia’s head, beat her, starve her, and brand her forehead so everyone knows her as a traitor to the Crown. But do not blind her. Let her witness every look of revulsion and know what it is to be alone in this world.”

  The guards dragged her away as she screeched words of revenge at me.

  “And the other?” the King asked.

  I looked at Porcia, who met my gaze steadily. The lack of hatred in her eyes gave me pause.

  “How does a barren woman come to have two daughters?” I asked.

  “She steals them. The ones who learn their lessons quickly live to learn more. The ones who don’t…well, you saw what happens.”

  “She did to you and Cecilia what she did to me?”

  “Not to Cecilia. Cecilia embraced all that Maeve was and all that she wanted, no matter what the cost.”