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When the housekeeper left the room, Cinderella rested her forehead on the bookcase. “It’s not enough that they took us over, they must make a spectacle out of it every year, too,” she muttered before climbing a ladder.

She shuffled the few leather-bound books around the shelves. Nothing new was to be found. Cinderella started to climb down the ladder—intending to search her mother’s old room next. She looked up at the top of the bookshelves, and, on an impulse, climbed the highest ladder rung.Advertisement

The bookshelves did not reach the ceiling, but they still stretched up a good ten feet. The ladder was barely tall enough to push Cinderella above their height, so she might see if anything of interest was on top.

The tops of the elaborately carved shelves were dust-covered and riddled with cobwebs, but Cinderella was rewarded with a package of papers.

Cinderella brushed cobwebs from the package, shivering at their whispery touch, and carried it down the ladder with her.

She wiped the package off and sneezed in the raised dust before ripping the packet open. Papers spilled out. Cinderella recognized her father’s handwriting on the aged, yellow sheets. It was some kind of proof of sales based on the various seals and notaries pressed into the brittle pages.

“What is this?” Cinderella murmured, moving to the window so she could see better.

The paper went on, but Cinderella couldn’t believe it. Her father had purchased another manor? When? Was he out of his mind? Cinderella paged through the reports. Her blood turned cold when she saw where Windtop Manor was located: southern Loire.

According to the dates, the purchase was made in the chaotic but brief month Trieux was at war with Erlauf before it was overtaken.

Cinderella’s father hadn’t claimed the manor in his assets—Pierre and Cinderella would have noticed it before—and the Erlauf Crown wasn’t likely to let an out-of-country manor go untaxed, even if it was in Loire.

Cinderella bit her lip as she tried to keep the hysteria down. There was only one reason Cinderella could think of that would drive him to purchase a small manor—incredibly small compared to Aveyron—in Loire.

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He meant to flee.

With only fifty acres to its name, Windtop could not possibly provide work for Aveyron’s fleet of servants. He meant to abandon everything and run. Cinderella knew without a doubt he would have taken her with, but it didn’t change the fact that her brave, gentle father engineered a backdoor to escape through.

However…Cinderella could sell this escape plan—surely it was worth the remaining amount of debt Aveyron owed the crown. (This explained the unpaid landholding fines—the money was gone, already used to pay for part of Windtop’s purchase, rather than pay off the debt.) Hope toppled as Cinderella realized the position she was in. She could sell Windtop…and then Queen Freja just might have her imprisoned for embezzlement or whatever word she could use to brand Cinderella a traitor for failing to inform the Crown of the foreign manor.

If she didn’t want to be imprisoned, Cinderella’s only option was to ignore it…or use it.

Marie told Cinderella she needed to start thinking of herself, she should be selfish just this once. Once inside Loire, Erlauf could not touch her. She would have to leave behind the servants…but hadn’t she paid them back for their loyalty?

To never be harassed, to never be bothered again by Queen Freja…Cinderella was still as she imagined the freedom for a moment.

If Papa planned for it, surely it couldn’t be wrong, Cinderella thought. Papa was the kindest man I know. If even he made these preparations…

Cinderella recalled the way her servants dove into flower farming, even though they must have thought she was half mad to try it. She thought of Vitore—the stand-minder who was originally a lady’s maid. There was brave Jeanne, who might not be the warmest person, but who had said no to a suitor to step into her mother’s position of housekeeper when she died. Gilbert, who stayed on even though his wages were lowered. The cowherds, who learned how to tend sheep when Cinderella was desperate for help and unable to afford more. All of Aveyron’s servants hadn’t just stood up for Cinderella and her father when Erlauf rounded up the nobles for the slaughter, they stayed with Cinderella and sacrificed more.

“I can’t leave them,” Cinderella said, her grip tightening on the papers. “I can’t abandon them.”

Cinderella squared her shoulders. There was one final option. It would be a gamble, but to sit on Windtop and have no intention of using it while losing Aveyron was a waste.

Cinderella gathered her wits and strength before she set off down the hall, steeling herself for rejection and ruin.

She stopped outside a polished door and knocked.

“Yes?”

“It is me, Step-Mother.”

“Come in.”

Cinderella took a deep breath before she opened the door and stepped into the private parlor her Lady Klara occupied. “Good afternoon, Step-Mother,” she said, bobbing in a slight curtsey.

“Good afternoon,” Lady Klara said, her voice as feeling as ice. “What brings you into my presence?” pqdm.com