Fractured Slipper Page 16
I gave him a look. “You deserved the kick.”
He tilted his head and I couldn’t tell if it was in agreement, or dissent. “The gossip columns aren’t the best place to get accurate information about me. I dated a lot when I was younger, but I graduated with my master’s degree a few years ago and I’ve been working with my parents, learning the family business. I go out occasionally with clients and take a date, but it’s nothing serious. I haven’t had a relationship in a long time. I haven’t wanted one.” He paused, holding my gaze. “Until now.”
I stared at him, eyes wide. I hadn’t been expecting that declaration, or his directness. It took me a minute to recover before I could answer. “I already told you that we come from two different worlds. I’m not used to your world, and don’t know if it’s the life I want. The magic world is full of power and politics. It’s not a world I’ve ever wanted. I’m happy in the tunnels with my friends. I could keep being happy there.”
He stared at the water for a long time, his face a calm mask. After several minutes he said, “You’ve spent your whole life trying to get revenge, and helping others. Your friends will always be there for you, that doesn’t have to change, regardless of what else you choose to do in life, or with your magic. I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you might not have a choice about becoming part of the magic world. You were the talk of the ball, Hadley—or Ella,” he said, raising an eyebrow in question. I didn’t have an answer for him. “The hotel had security cameras that caught your magic on video. My security team was able to isolate the recordings, but we don’t know who saw them before we did, or if there are any other copies. At some point, you’re going to have to declare your powers.” He turned to me, his eyes clear. “I’d like to be there to help you navigate the waters of the magic world when you do.”
My heart surged at his admission. “Why?”
He licked his lips slowly, a wet sheen of temptation left behind. “I know what it felt like dancing with you, and then outside on the balcony. I’ve never felt that with anyone else. I want you in my life, El. If you want to be part of it.”
I looked up and met his gaze. “I haven’t had an easy life, Storm, and I’ve had enough heartbreak to last a lifetime. How do I know you’re telling the truth and you’re not going to hurt me?”
He pressed his lips together like he was thinking and then said, “I can’t promise you I’ll never hurt you, but I can promise you I’ll do my best not to.”
I wasn’t sure if that promise was enough.
“Test me,” he said.
“What?”
“Strip away the illusion and see who I really am, El. See if you can trust me, and if you want to be with me.”
Striping the illusion away could be a painful process, or a pleasant one, depending on who the person was, and how much they’d lied to themselves. It wasn’t something I did lightly. “You don’t know what you’re asking. It might not be a pleasant experience, Storm. Most people can’t handle who they really are.”
“I can,” he said immediately. “Test me.”
I bit my lip, studying him. He wasn’t going to let this go. “Okay,” I said. “There’s a garden on the other side of the park that’s enclosed and private. We can do it there.”
We walked together and when we came to the entrance we went through a tunnel of flowers and leaves that opened up into a quiet, serene garden fragrant with blooming flowers and freshly turned soil. It was one of my favorite parts of the park. We stood on an area with brick pavers and I looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of reticence. I found a calm and quiet confidence instead. “Are you ready?”
He nodded.
I closed my eyes and raised my hands, letting my magic push onto him. The flames rose around him, a brilliant orange and blue, before the cinders from his illusion scattered to the ground. I gathered them, and pushed them toward him. Then waited for Charming’s mirror to appear. It did, and what it reflected back shocked me. It was Charming, helping others, caring for animals, speaking for those who couldn’t speak for themselves. He was good, and he was kind, and I knew he really would try not to hurt me. And I realized the truth was I hadn’t needed my illusion breaking magic to tell me that. The only thing holding me back from him was fear, and I’d never let fear rule my life before. I wasn’t about to start now.
He reached out and took my hands in his, the touch warm and reassuring. “Be with me.”
I looked up at him, emotion clouding my vision, and flung my arms around his neck. His strong arms went around my back and I was sheltered and safe and my heart felt like it might burst in my chest. His lips found mine and told me everything my magic already had. This was a man who was truly good, and would do anything to make me happy. It was something I hadn’t even realized I’d wanted, but now I didn’t want to imagine life without it.
A gust of wind picked up and Storm used his magic to sweep the glass into a trash can. One piece fell to the ground. I bent to pick it up and looked at it, then started to laugh. Charming’s brow went up with interest as he looked over my shoulder and then started laughing too. It was a picture of my shoe. “So you’re not all good, Charming. Even my magic knows you’re a thief.”
The smile he flashed me could have lit up an entire city. “I’d happily do it all over again if it meant I got you.”
My cheeks pinked and joy washed through me like a ray of white light. I put my arms around his neck and he returned the favor, wrapping his arms around my waist. “You were right,” I said.
One of his eyebrows rose. “About what?”
“You said one day I’d ask you to capture me. I’m asking you now.”
The corners of his lips kicked up. “And I’m never letting you go.” His lips met mine and with them, the weight that had been on my shoulders my whole life lifted, carried by two instead of one.
Charming took my hand and I followed him through the garden tunnel and out into the world and our happily ever after.
About the Author
Angela Corbett graduated from Westminster College and previously worked as a journalist, freelance writer, and director of communications and marketing. She lives in Utah with her extremely supportive husband, and loves classic cars, traveling, and chasing their five-pound Pomeranian, Pippin—who is just as mischievous as his hobbit namesake. She’s the author of Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult fiction—with lots of kissing. She writes under two names, Angela Corbett, and Destiny Ford.
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The Wrong Foot
Adrienne Monson
The Wrong Foot
Paranormal Romance
by
Adrienne Monson
The Wrong Foot is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Adrienne Monson
Original cover design by Ampersand Book Covers Copyright © 2017
Published in the United States by Tork Media.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior return permission of the publisher.
Proclamation to the kingdom from their liege, Prince Bastion:
Let it be known that every maiden in the kingdom is commanded to try on a glass slipper found at the ball given in my honor last eve. It is essential that all maidens make themselves available to my servants day or night. Whomsoever fits the petite slipper, I will wed by month’s end.
~ So it is written, so let it be done
Chapter 1
Felicia watched her father, Viscount Durand, pace through the modest
parlor, his thick fingers rubbing each other as his brown eyes lit in thought. “The prince’s men will be here at any moment.” He dropped his hands as he continued his endless pacing on the worn rug.
Counting the four long steps before he was forced to turn, Felicia wondered at how her father could get so much exercise in the small room. She stayed still instead of tapping her foot like she wanted. “Father,” she said with forced patience. “You and I both know that I’m not the young lady the prince is looking for. I stayed by your side for most of the ball.” Something Felicia had learned to do in order to steer conversations away from people slighting the viscount, or trying to snare him in another bad investment. “I didn’t dance once and I certainly never spoke with the prince.”
But she’d watched him. Prince Bastion was easy to spot since he stood a head taller than most. She’d come to enjoy seeing him enter the room at the royal balls. Even the heat from the lamps and hundreds of bodies, not to mention the overpowering mix of body odor and flowery perfumes, could detract from the charisma that the prince exuded.
When that mystery woman had shown up, Felicia had assumed that they’d already known each other. They’d acted so familiar together, he touching the small of her back and brushing a finger across her jaw. After their third dance, she’d thought that they were betrothed and it hadn’t been announced yet. Then, when they continued to dance every time after that until midnight, everyone gossiped of the scandal. The King and Queen had huddled close and whispered frantically as they glanced at their son dancing with the girl in the sparkling gown. Her blonde hair had been upswept with ringlets hanging down around her white smile and gleaming blue eyes.
Felicia knew that no one could mistake her for the mystery guest since she had average features topped with plain brown hair and brown eyes. Nothing nearly as exquisite as the beauty at the ball.
“That doesn’t matter, girl. Don’t you see?” Her father paused to look down at her, his sagging cheeks twitching. “This is our big chance! Everyone has been talking about how tiny that slipper is. It’s bound to fit you.”
Rolling her eyes, she glanced down at her petite frame. The ladies of the court often made snide comments of how she resembled a child – and didn’t remotely look feminine enough. “Good thing no one will marry you dear,” they’d say with exaggerated sympathy. “You’d never survive childbearing.”
If anything, that blasted slipper will be too big for me. But she didn’t bother saying that to her father. She could tell by the far-off look in his eyes that he’d reached that point in his head where reality was too unpleasant to acknowledge. His visions of grandeur never became more than just that – a vision; but he heartily believed every time that his next venture would be the thing to save them. At least the current situation didn’t require her father to put up funds that they didn’t have.
“Father, even if that slipper fit, you know I only want to marry for love.”
“Not this again!” He glared, resentment shining from his pupils. “If you had accepted Brecklym’s proposal, we wouldn’t be here.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I don’t care if he wasn’t titled. Brecklym was the wealthiest merchant this kingdom had ever seen!”
Felicia had tried to explain last year when she’d denied Brecklym’s proposal; she didn’t love him. And he was older than her father. Not a life she would enjoy no matter how much money the man had, which meant she’d probably end up like her mother – something she’d vowed never to do. Plus he was a foreigner, which meant Felicia would not have been able to live nearby and watch over her father. Even though they were in debt, he’d still take out a loan to invest in poor schemes if she wasn’t around to stop him.
She was the one to look after the viscount when her mother ran off with the blacksmith four years ago. If she married, her father could afford a new servant along with a valet. But they wouldn’t be able to stop him from agreeing to money sharks and their schemes. Or to shield him from the slander and jabs that everyone relentlessly threw his way. People only saw him for his buffoonish failures. Felicia couldn’t understand how they accepted him so warmly when her mother was with them, but be so cold in his darkest hours. He’d been devastated when Mother abandoned them for another, yet he was still the same man as before. Didn’t anyone see that, or was respect only had from money?
If only Felicia’s godmother were here, she could talk some sense into him now. But Lady Ella wasn’t answering her letters. Felicia knew that her godmother left sporadically to find exotic herbs for her magical potions, though her father certainly had no knowledge of Lady Ella’s activities. He could never keep a secret and Felicia certainly didn’t want her godmother burned as a witch.
A loud knock interrupted them, freezing her father. A voice boomed through the front door. “Open in the name of the prince, heir to the throne!”
Despite her opinion that this was all a waste of time, Felicia’s heart pounded faster as their only remaining servant, Tess, came into the hall from the kitchen and opened the door. She was suddenly aware of the worn furniture in the parlor, of the homemade potpourri she had put out this morning to try to mask the smell of the previous tenant’s tobacco habit.
Tess entered the parlor, her black hair smooth in its bun and her finest frock perfectly ironed, but Felicia could tell by her pale complexion and twitching fingers that their servant was nervous. She stepped to the side and Felicia saw the entourage come in. A young man, no more than eight and ten led the party. He kept his nose pointed toward the ceiling as he spoke. “It is decreed by Prince Bastion, the royal heir, that every maiden try on this glass slipper.” He gestured behind him and another servant held up a gold tray showcasing a shoe that shined in the candlelight.
As the royal announcer continued, Felicia studied the elegant shoe. She’d heard all about the extravagance of the slipper, but seeing it was still awe inspiring. It wasn’t just glass; gold lined the base of the shoe, then white and blue diamonds decorated the toe. Even the broken strap that hung limply to the side, crooked in the middle where the strap broke, looked like spun gold and didn’t detract from the shoe’s beauty. It screamed delicate femininity. And money, she thought with a sour note, something we clearly lack. It’s obvious I’m not the girl who wore that slipper.
A third servant stepped out from behind and picked up the shoe. Felicia realized she hadn’t been listening to the announcer as he explained about the decree. She straightened as the older man holding the slipper came toward her.
Glancing around, she realized that there were no female servants among the royal entourage. Eyes wide, Felicia glanced at her father for help. He met her gaze and shrugged.
No man had ever seen her ankles, let alone been close enough to touch them. Alarm swept through her core and the boning of her corset suddenly felt as though it dug too tightly into her ribs. The servant was kneeling in front of her now. He set down the slipper and reached for the hem of her gown.
It wasn’t her place to speak, being a woman, and unmarried at that. But could she really sit there while her modesty was violated? Fingers shaking, Felicia pulled her skirt out of his reach. “Pardon me, sir,” she said with forced politeness. “Would you please allow my servant to put the slipper on? I’m sure you can respect my desire for propriety.”
The man narrowed his grey eyes at her. The silence that followed was strong enough to crack teeth.
Swallowing, Felicia wondered if they’d arrest her for impertinence. But she couldn’t take it back now, and wasn’t sure that she wanted to. Am I the only maiden who protested? Surely someone else would want to protect their modesty.
After a pause, the servant nodded once. “But I will need to watch closely, madam, and be sure that no trickery is involved.”
Felicia straightened at the insult, but let it go. At least she’d have a woman touching her foot instead of a man she’d never met. Keeping composure, Felicia called, “Tess, could you please put this slipper on for me?”
Her servant swallowed
, her eyes wide, and she glanced at the royal servants with fear, but came forward. The older man scooted to the side and held his hand out to help Tess to her knees.
Felicia softened when she saw that. At least he’s nice to Tess.
Tess murmured a thank you and proceeded to reach under Felicia’s dress to remove her plain, tan leather shoe. Felicia could see the tremor in her servant’s hand when she picked up the immaculate slipper. Tess raised Felicia’s skirt to her ankle.
Felicia’s blood rushed to her face as the roomful of men watched closely. She felt as though she were a strumpet and couldn’t believe that every maiden in the kingdom had suffered this humiliation.
“As you can see,” her father said, interrupting her thoughts, “my daughter is going to marry the prince, for it was she who danced with him at the ball.”
Brow wrinkling at his words, she looked down at her foot. The slipper was on it, sparkling and glittering in all its fanciful glory. It looked like it belonged there. She lifted her foot off the ground and gently shook it to see if the slipper would fall off. It didn’t. The shoe fit perfectly and was surprisingly comfortable.
Everyone in the room gasped. Tess stared up at her mistress as if seeing her in a new light.
But that’s impossible. Felicia had to special order her footwear, along with her garments, because of her petite frame. She thought she was the only woman who was so tiny in the kingdom, even the whole world. While she’d seen that the woman who’d danced with the prince was small, she’d never gotten close enough to see if they had comparable sizes. The thought had never occurred to her.
The three servants came alive and flitted around, their voices growing high with excitement. Felicia felt numb as she watched them take the slipper off and put it back on the tray. They practically danced as they gathered their things to leave. She wanted to put a stop to it all. How can they all be so blind? She was clearly not the right girl.