Cinderella Is Dead(31)

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s no trouble,” Constance says. She grins, and I am taken with her all over again. But guilt rushes in and chases those feelings away.

“I didn’t have a plan when I left the palace. I just ran.” Sadness crashes over me again. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“You’re here with me,” she says.

“And who are you exactly?” I ask. “I know your name, but—are you from Lille? What were you doing in Cinderella’s tomb?”

She pushes her hair behind her shoulder and clears her throat. She speaks in a way that reminds me of someone reading a story aloud.

“The sisters were no better than their mother,” she says. “Common and uniquely cruel, they taunted Cinderella without end. The oldest stepsister, Gabrielle, had hair like the fiery flames of hell and a face only the devil could love.”

I hold my hand up. “I know the story. And I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to hear it again. Look where it’s led me.”

“Yes,” Constance says. “Look where it has led you.” Light from the fire flickers across her features, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Constance pushes out her chin and angles her head to the side. “I’ve always taken umbrage with that portrayal of Gabrielle. There are many generations between us, but her blood is strong. I’ve always been told I look just like her.”

I am dumbstruck. “You—you’re related to Gabrielle? The wicked stepsister?”

“Wicked? No. Stepsister, yes.”

I step back and run right into the wall. My head swims with fragments of the story. The stepsisters are said to have been exceedingly cruel to Cinderella, and their descriptions make them out to be monstrous aberrations. None of the stories mention either of them having children or families of their own.

“That makes you kin to Cinderella,” I say, trying to put their family tree together in my head.

“A sixth great-niece,” Constance says.

I can’t even think straight. “If you’re serious—”

“I am,” Constance says.

I slowly sit down. My thoughts turn back to the more immediate issue of the king’s men. “The guards are looking for me, and I don’t want to put you in a bad situation. They’d kill you just for helping me.”

“They would try,” she says, looking thoughtful. She turns slightly, showing me the dagger hanging from her belt. “And where can you go that King Manford won’t find you?”

I haven’t thought it through. All I know is that I need to get as far away from Lille as possible. “I planned on walking until my legs gave out. I’m not really sure where.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Constance crosses her arms.

“It’s a good thing I don’t need your permission then, isn’t it?”

She blinks repeatedly, smiling a little and nodding. “I don’t have a better suggestion. I don’t think you’d be safe in any city in Mersailles. He could never allow you to defy him and get away with it.”

“If I stay away, maybe he’ll let it go,” I say.

“He won’t.”

“How do you know so much about what he would and wouldn’t do?” I ask.

She sighs, and her shoulders slump down. “Because I keep the stories no one else is allowed to hear, the things Manford and his predecessors don’t want anyone to know, the true history of my family.”

“The true history?” I ask.

She drags a chair over and sits directly across from me.

“Have you ever thought about what kind of a person would have a child and name it Charming?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” I say. And now that I think about it, it seems kind of ridiculous. “Are you saying that wasn’t his real name?”

“No one knows what his real name was,” she says.

I laugh but she doesn’t. She is dead serious, and I still myself, allowing her to continue.

“Did you know Cinderella’s father was the highest-ranking adviser, the closest person to the old king who ruled Mersailles before Prince Charming took over?”

“No,” I say in utter shock. “I’ve never heard that.”

“He was. But Prince Charming came to Mersailles in a time of drought and famine so devastating it was unlike anything the people had ever seen before. They were desperate, and Charming told them he could save them if they made him king. In the beginning they refused, putting their trust in their king. Charming bided his time, and when things got worse, he offered his help yet again. This time the people agreed and deposed the old king, making Charming their ruler.”

“And he did what he said he would,” I say. I know this story, too. The founding of our kingdom by the benevolent Prince Charming.

“The crops once again flourished; the rivers ran through drought-stricken lands. There were rumblings of magic, of curses somehow broken, but the people of Mersailles knelt at his feet.” Constance shakes her head. “As soon as Charming had the people in the palm of his hand, things began to change. Cinderella’s parents spoke openly of how the laws Charming was implementing were unfair and dangerous. While Cinderella’s father tried to rally political support to overthrow Charming, her mother tried to rally local people, to get them to organize and protest. When Charming got word of her efforts, he sent his guards to arrest her. She would not go quietly, and they executed her in the driveway.”