The Wronged Princess - Book I - Page 105/133

Cinderella snatched one arm and Essie the other as they dragged Pricilla into the first unlocked chamber they could find. Lucky for them, Pricilla's amusement was so great it lessened her resistance.

"What?" Pricilla choked out, laughing so hard she bent at the waist. "I am just having a bit of fun."

"You terrified that poor chambermaid out of her wits," Essie accused.

"We shall never survive the aftermath," Cinderella muttered. Her heart pounded furiously against her chest. She had to get that stick out of Pricilla's hands, and soon, before she set the entire castle afire or turned everyone into chirping crickets.

"Where are we?" Pricilla asked, swiping tears from her eyes. Once she'd finally calmed enough to pose the question.

"Some poor unfortunate's sitting room from the looks of it," Essie said.

"Well, poor they are not, I would venture." Cinderella cast a nervous glance round. Heavy brocaded drapes blocked out a good portion of the daylight but for a parted sliver. Heated coals smoldered in the hearth, and an empty brandy glass sat on a nearby table.

Cinderella had trouble believing Pricilla bore a single stint of remorse for her theft of the magic stick. In retrospect, it had mattered naught for Pricilla to steal the bread from Cinderella's plate. She supposed that could not compare to a powerful silver baton.

Why, the two carried on as if Pricilla had not just whipped up a flock of butterflies scurrying round the palace, worthy of Essie's batting eyes. Thousands of them: monarchs, tiger swallowtails, gossamers of every shape, size and color, all flitting about, covering every conceivable surface. Sending the servants into a horrific frenzy, with the betrothal ball just days away.

Cinderella had to admit, the situation would be outrageously comical, but for the consequences of their shenanigans. She, apparently, harbored enough terror for the three of them. "Do not touch a thing," Cinderella hissed as Essie picked up the empty brandy glass and brought it to her nose.

Unfortunately, Cinderella's stark command managed to trigger the opposite effect. Startled, the glass slipped from Essie's finders. Thankfully, the elaborate rug padded the fall, and the glass rolled to a slow stop.

Cinderella stilled, breath stuck in her throat. Her pulse flailed wildly against the open palm she laid across her neck. Pricilla and Essie froze too. Not for long, however.

"Watch this," Pricilla whispered, grinning. She extended the silver bar towards the glass, now laying on its side.

Cinderella watched, enthralled, in spite of her misgivings. The glass levitated from the floor and floated to mid-air, swaying precariously under Pricilla's concentration.

Under her carefully guided journey, the glass was near complete to the table, a spectacular sight-until an adjoining door to the chamber burst open.