Cinderella Is Dead(23)

The red liquid cascades down the side of his ivory jacket. édouard’s face twists into a mask of rage as he looks at his ruined clothing. Luke puts his arm under mine, and we rush off, leaving édouard in a sputtering, hissing fit.

I frantically search for Erin as we cut through the heart of the crowd and end up on the opposite side near the powder room entrance. I catch a glimpse of her just as the band strikes up a waltz, and the young women pair off with different men. Everyone moves in a dizzying circle in time with the music, and I lose sight of her again.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears. I lean down and put my hands on my knees. “How did one family end up with two complete fools in the same generation?”

“They get it from their father,” says Luke. “He gave up their mother as forfeit when we were in school so he could take a new wife. He was cruel to her, and still Morris and édouard want nothing more than to be exactly like him. Their family has gained favor with the palace. They support everything the king does, without question.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Morris and édouard’s family have ties to outside traders in cities beyond the Forbidden Lands in the west. They support the king, sharing their profits, and in return the king lets them do whatever they want. Sometimes they invite envoys to bring their goods to trade and then rob them on the way into Mersailles.”

“How do you know all this?” I ask. “It seems like something you’d want to keep secret.”

“It’s Morris. He loves to talk about his special privileges and thinks that he’ll never have to face any consequences. He’s probably right.”

Luke puts out his hand, and I take it. He pulls me into the swirling mass of couples, and we spin to the tune of the waltz. I glance toward the king’s throne. It’s still empty.

“We need to get as far away from here as possible,” I say.

“Exactly.” Luke lifts his arm as I duck under it, stepping back to take his hand again.

“And how do we get past the watchtowers? Even if we’re married, the king would never allow us to just walk away.”

“I think we could sneak out. We could find a way. I’m sure of it.”

I remember how the guards had called for the executioner when a runner had tried to cross the border. “I’ve never heard of anyone leaving without the king’s consent.”

“Neither have I, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened. We’ve also rarely heard about people like us and yet here we are. Just because they deny us doesn’t mean we cease to exist.”

It’s entirely possible that someone has attempted an escape and the palace had hushed it up. But could someone actually escape? Has anyone ever actually done it? That would be a secret worth keeping. I think of the circle of blackened grass at the fountain. Maybe there is something to what Luke is saying.

“The border is guarded all the way around Lille,” I say.

Luke lowers his mouth to my ear. “Less so on the western edge.”

“No,” I say. “The western edge of the city butts up to the White Wood, and we can’t go through there. It’s too dangerous. No one is stupid enough to actually try and escape that way.”

“We shouldn’t go through there,” Luke says. “But we can. We have to decide if we’re willing to take that risk.”

The alternative is staying here, falling in line, being at the mercy of the king and his rules. It’s not a way to live. I’m willing to risk leaving by any path necessary.

“I need a minute,” I say. My head is spinning. We’re going to do this. We’re going to make our escape.

Luke gestures to the powder room door, and I nod.

“When you come back, I’ll let the registrar know that I’m going to make a claim on you.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry that I have to say it that way, and I’m sorry that you can’t be with Erin.”

I smile at him, and he kisses me gently on the cheek before I duck off.

The powder room is bigger than some of the houses in town. In the center sits a circular sofa covered in fabric decorated with pink roses. It smells of lavender and fresh flowers, and girls are lounging about, talking among themselves.

“No one has even looked at me,” one girl says. “Is it my dress? My hair? I did everything my father told me to do.”

“You look gorgeous,” says her friend, glancing at her shyly. They clasp hands and go out arm in arm.

I go to the mirror and stare at my reflection. I will allow Luke to choose me, and together we’ll find a way out of the kingdom. I’ll convince Erin to come with me, and we’ll have to find Liv first, but what about the others? All the girls left behind will be at the mercy of the king and his deplorable cohorts.

My painted face stares back at me like a stranger. I dip my hands into the basin and splash myself with water. The rouge runs down my cheeks in thin rivulets, and I pull my hair out of its coils, letting it fall around my face. Other girls come into the room and look at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

A loud bang, like someone dropped a stack of plates, comes from the ballroom. Shouts ring out as the other girls scurry from the room, and I follow behind them.

A crowd gathers in the grand ballroom, all pressed together, staring at some commotion. As I push through the crowd, I glance toward the door where they’d taken Liv. The door stands open. Through the forest of people, I see the king walking briskly from the room, and I catch a glimpse of an old woman with hair as white as snow being propped up by a palace guard. The door closes, and I move to the front of the crowd to see what the commotion is about.