Cyn looked to the wall that had held a door earlier that morning. Like everything else, it too was magical and had disappeared once the sun fully rose. She sighed, wishing the door would reappear to take her back to Trevor. Back to warmth. Back to love.
Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Cyn stood and looked out at the cloudy sky. It had started to rain, not a good night to go up to the roof. Having nothing else better to do, she blew out her candle and climbed into her small bed where she cried herself to sleep before those that shared her room returned.
* * * *
The sun rose brightly the next day, the sky clear of all gray, drying up all the wet land. Trevor barged into the sunroom where his mother was entertaining several ladies who had come to visit.
“Mother, I must speak with you,” Trevor demanded.
“Trevor.” The Queen was shocked and her voice held that of reprimand. Looking to her guests, she apologized. “Please forgive my son. He has been away from polite society for too long.” She turned back to her son. “What is it Trevor?”
“I’m in love and I want to marry the woman,” he announced. This got everyone’s attention and his mother’s face brightened with a smile.
“Who is this lucky girl, pray tell. Is it Serena, the Duke of Tyran’s daughter? Or maybe Tabitha, the Count’s daughter?” she inquired, as images of a grand wedding flashed in her mind.
Trevor held out the black shoe. “It is the blonde beauty who can fit this shoe.” The Queen gasped. “What? You do not know who she is but you love her? How did you get her shoe?”
“Her name is Cynderella. I met her two nights ago. She was waiting in my room.
Mother, she’s the one I want to marry. The one I love.” The Queen’s hand rose to her mouth in surprise. How could a woman who waited in a man’s room be that of good upbringing? Only tavern girls did such a thing.
Or so she heard.
“Mother, you’d love her. She makes me smile and laugh. Her hair is long and thick and as golden as the sunrise. Her beauty surpasses any I’ve seen before. Her foot fits perfectly in this shoe.”
The Queen shook her head. “Surely, my son, there are plenty of women in the Kingdom that can fit in that shoe. How can you be so certain that she will be the one?” He smiled at his mother and paid little attention to the other women in the room who started whispering quietly with each other. “I would know her anywhere. Her voice is musical and she has a heart shaped mark between her thighs. I’m calling for all the women of the Kingdom to come and see me, no matter their station. I will find her and make her my bride.” The determination in his voice was unmistakable. There would be no arguing with him. His mind was set.
The ladies in the room gasped as Trevor mentioned the mark between the mystery woman’s thighs. Being as intrigued as they were in Trevor since he stepped into the room, no one noticed the maid in the corner that had frozen since he made his appearance. It was she that gasped the loudest.
* * * *
Cyn had been terrified when Trevor entered the room. She couldn’t believe who he was. The wild, eldest son of the Queen who had returned to accept his responsibility of his father’s Kingdom. She had heard the servants speak of him from time to time, especially now since his return, but had yet to see him.
Cyn lowered her head and quickly left the room after hearing Trevor’s announcement. She ran to the kitchen where she returned the tray and then leaned against the wall, her heart pounding and stomach churning. She couldn’t believe it.
Trevor was searching for her. He wanted to marry her and only her. But who was she but a lowly servant. She didn’t even have her father’s name anymore. Everyone thought that Cynderella Jamison was dead; she was merely Cyn, simple servant with nothing to offer a future King. She felt her chest tighten and her heart break knowing that she could never have him. How could he want someone like her?
The cook approached Cyn, thinking that she looked awful pale. “Are you alright dear? You look white as a sheep. Are you feeling unwell?” She was concerned for the young girl.
Cyn shook her head and took a deep breath to calm herself. Cautiously, she went back to the sunroom. Peeking in first, she saw that Trevor no longer lingered there.
Neither did the Queen, but the other women sat and were talking animatedly about the scene they’d just witnessed. Cyn continued with her duties with trembling hands and constantly on the look out for either Trevor or the Queen to return.
As soon as she could, Cyn escaped the room and retreated to the solitude of her bedroom to cry upon her bed. She shed tears as her dreams once more melted, leaving her an empty shell inside. But not once did she regret her night with her own Prince Charming.
The Palace was all in a buzz as women from all around the Kingdom came to try on the black shoe. Several traveled from further kingdoms when they heard the tale of the Prince searching for his bride, in hopes that they be the one. It would take many days to go through them all.
Cyn tried to stay in her room as much as possible, avoiding anywhere the Prince may be, while still doing her duties. Her heart was broken and didn’t want to risk him recognizing her and having to deny that she was the one. Only at night, when she was alone and no one could see her, did she allow herself to feel the grief of another loss in her life.
* * * *
Trevor meanwhile was growing more frustrated with every woman that passed before him. If, by chance, the shoe did fit, their hair was often the wrong color, texture, or length. He had yet to check for the mark, for none had come close to her beauty.
Trevor paced the room when the last woman of the day left. He growled like a wild animal. Passing a vase, he picked it up and threw it across the room. He watched 32
Marty Rayne
as it shattered to pieces. He felt just like the vase. He was falling apart. He needed Cynderella. He craved to see her sensual smile, to feel her touch and smell her hair. She was all that filled his mind and he knew he’d not be at peace until he found her.
That night Trevor’s sleep was restless. His dreams filled of Cynderella and how she felt wrapped around him. He did not see the small brightness that entered his room and materialize beside his bed.
Lena looked down at the man and shook her head. “Men are so daft,” she whispered, and bent close to his ear. “Hey, why don’t you check the servants, dude?”
“Servants,” Trevor mumbled and turned over.
Lena rolled her eyes as if saying, d’uh. “The one you seek is here, within your walls.”
Trevor opened his eyes and looked around but Lena was already gone. Rolling over and feeling a little better, he slid back into a more peaceful sleep.
Trevor got up when the sun rose and demanded that all the female servants be brought before him. His tone and gruffness was not one to be argued with so it was done without protest. One by one, he looked into the face of each woman and had them remove the kerchiefs covering their hair.
He growled angrily and pounded his fist on a table. “Is this all the females serving here?”
“Yes, Majesty,” a young soldier answered, nervously.
A small, red-haired girl stepped out to the front and curtsied low before speaking. “Majesty,” she said softly, but it caught his attention. “There is but one left, but she is up in her room ill and was unable to come down.” Trevor sighed and looked at the young girl, her eyes staring wide in fright. He knew he’d let his frustrations and anger show too much. “Take me to her,” he said, in a softer, kinder tone.