Cinderella spy, p.1
Cinderella Spy, page 1
Cinderella Spy
A Glass Slipper Adventure
by
Allie Burton
Allie Burton
Cinderella Spy
A Glass Slipper Adventure
Copyright © 2020 by Alice Fairbanks-Burton
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, downloaded, transmitted, decompiled, reverse engineered, stored in or introduced to any information storage and retrieval system in any form, whether electronic or mechanical without the author’s written permission. Scanning, uploading or distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission is prohibited.
Please purchase only authorized electronic versions, and do not participate in, or encourage pirated electronic versions.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Table of Contents
CINDERELLA SPY
Copyright
Stay in Touch
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
A Note from Allie Burton
What to Read Next
Also by Allie Burton
About the Author
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Dedication
To my mom who turns 91 years next month and has been a champion my entire life. She believed in me and encouraged my creativity. The spunk and happy ending of the main character reminds me of her.
And to Lindsey, who did a last minute proofreading of this book and caught many, many, many things.
Chapter One
Sticking to the stone walls, I made my way down the spiral staircase to the ground floor of Queens Academy. Flat pavestones cushioned the sound of my booted feet. The interior stained-glass windows were dark this late at night as I headed away from the grand castle entrance to an unlocked side exit.
My pulse wavered. Ridiculous that I needed to sneak out for weapons training. Although that was how strict my life had become since civil war had been declared and the fairies wanted to see me as their perfect princess.
No weapons. No flying in the halls. No fun.
Keeping my back to the wall, I sidled toward the doorway, needing to time my escape for when both guards turned away. They knew who I was and wouldn’t stop me, but they’d question my need for a midnight walk and alert the wall guards of my presence, making it harder for me to stealthily get away.
I wasn’t trapped in the castle. It was my grandmother, Queen Dahliadew, and her right-hand advisor, Commander Gardenia, who didn’t want me leaving the protection of the castle grounds. She had stressed that despite my human upbringing, I could be an appropriate princess.
It was hard to imagine. Me, a princess? Princess Ellery.
To make my escape, I planned to mix in with majik troops training in the courtyard all night. Fairies with wings. Tall giants and tiny brownies. Hunched ogres and trolls. Elves with pointy ears. And so many more.
Majiks were working together to train. Unfortunately, a unified decree to fight against our common enemy had not been signed. I understood there were problems and prejudices. But as I became acquainted with different majiks, I’d made friends with all kinds in the Kingdom of Alandaska. Even humans.
My heart squeezed as I thought of one human in particular. Prince Zacharye, or Rye as I called him.
The clatter of feet and the murmur of voices stopped me in my tracks. My muscles tensed. The halls were usually empty this time of night. I hid behind a tree trunk acting as a column and ran my fingers over the rough bark. Already late, I didn’t need another delay.
“Troll teats!” The angry male expletive echoed down the hall.
Covering my mouth, I held back a gasp. It wasn’t a curse but was disrespectful to trolls. I didn’t recognize the voice. The disgust and anger threading through the single phrase made my skin crawl.
My mentor was a troll. And a good friend.
I peeked around the corner. There were a lot of visitors arriving for the Grand Council meeting tomorrow afternoon. Castle staff had prepared a large gallery for subjects to watch the proceedings.
A young guy, older than me but not old enough to be a noblet with the Grand Council, stood in front of the side door. His expertly tailored clothes made of silk and linen were wrinkled. Tight leather breaches, a linen jacket, and a bright purple silk shirt. A fancy tie around his neck completed his outfit. His skin shined and his brown eyes gleamed. Red hair flopped on his forehead in a styled dishevelment.
From being at the fairy academy for two months, I recognized he was the perfect specimen of male fairy perfection. The girls around here were going to go nuts.
Not me. I pictured soft silver eyes in my dreams.
The man was surrounded by a contingent of majik servants wearing uncomfortable-looking uniforms with high stiff collars, long sleeve shirts in the heat, wool vests, and trim pants made of a material that stained easily. Not castle livery—an ugly black and brown. Servants, mostly fairies including a smoke sprite and a fire fairy, carried suitcases and bundles. A small brownie lifted the heaviest load.
“My room should be ready.” Mr. Perfect’s tone held a superior edge as if he were above everyone before him. “I’ve traveled all night and need to rest, and you made me enter through the side entrance.”
Forsythia, the head butler at Queens Academy, bowed. She oversaw the entire castle complex. Once everyone learned I was the lost princess, she’d welcomed me into the royal wing with my favorite human cookie, snickerdoodles. “I’m sorry again, sir. We weren’t informed of your arrival.”
He puffed his chest out. “My father, the esteemed Arch Noblet Oakton, should’ve informed you.”
My not-pointy ears pricked. I hadn’t met the noblet yet. My friend Arbor had complained about his ridiculous demands including last second meetings with Queen Dahliadew believing it was his right. She was a busy woman, and a meeting wasn’t going to happen unless it was urgent. The queen, my grandmother, had been spending most of her free time teaching me how to maneuver through the council meeting and gain entrance into the Guild of the Wand Supreme. The guild was an organization of the most accomplished wand casters and they were only willing to consider me because of my grandmother. And even though I’d just learned to use a wand, all female royals became members.
No pressure or anything.
“I can offer you a room with a balcony for now.” Forsythia snapped her fingers and a paper map of the castle appeared, unrolling in front of them while hanging in the air. “And get you into a suite when noblets leave after the meeting.”
“Not good enough. Do you know who I am?” Mr. Perfect leaned forward in an aggressive stance, causing my hands to fist. I wanted to punch him. “Do you realize how late it is? Find something appropriate now.”
Late enough that Forsythia shouldn’t have been pulled out of her bed. The inconsiderate jerk.
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” She bowed her head, treating him as a king. Wobbling, she staggered backward. “I’ll wake up one of the other guests and have them move.”
In the middle of the night?
I wanted to defend her and her assistants, but they’d realize I wasn’t in my room. There’d be questions I didn’t want to answer from Queen Dahliadew and Commander Gardenia.
Forsythia and her staff apparated to do this man’s bidding.
“I can’t believe the incompetence of the staff here.” He stalked over to the statue of Mother Morningmist from when she’d been queen and ran a gloved finger across the top, then inspected his white glove for dust. “When I’m living here, there will be changes. A lot of changes.”
He better not move to Queens Academy. He was too old to be a student and too young to be a general in the war. He was also too snobbish to be a normal soldier.
Mr. Perfect, who expected a spotless castle in the middle of a war, reeled on his own servant. His pointy nose flared. “Why didn’t you fly ahead and confirm my room would be ready when we arrived?”
“I suggested that, si r. You wanted to make an additional stop at the pub.” The smoke sprite’s voice trembled, and his wings quivered.
Mr. Perfect’s own servants were afraid of him. As a former servant, I wanted to defend them and tell him to treat them with dignity. Holding my tongue, I stayed in my hiding spot behind the column. Between the red warrior outfit I wore and the fact I was sneaking out of the castle to meet someone, confronting this idiot wouldn’t be wise. He or one of his servants might recognize me.
I was stuck here until Mr. Perfect was escorted to his room. Students, especially me, weren’t allowed to apparate. The castle had a detection system that informed Commander Gardenia of those breaking the rules, which is why I had to rely on old-fashioned stealth and using the side door.
Mr. Perfect, or should I call him Mr. Not-Perfect-At-All, bent to sit on the marble bench in the hallway. He paused midway and glared at his brownie servant. “Well?”
The impatience in his tone set my teeth on edge.
The brownie’s terrified eyes widened. His similarities to my friend Tos made the treatment worse. Tos was always cheerful and confident. This brownie appeared to have been beaten into submission. The brownie scurried to set the pile of heavy luggage on the floor and slipped a white silk cloth from his pocket.
Mr. Not-Perfect-At-All wanted him to dust the bench before he sat down. Ludicrous. The man could’ve used magic, wiped the spot himself, or not worried about dirtying his wrinkled clothes. With the number of suitcases, I was sure he had more breeches.
The pile of luggage the brownie set down creaked. The large piece on the top tilted to the right. The entire pile tumbled and clattered across the stone floor.
Silence and tension filled the small space. Each servant froze as if a spell had been cast.
I didn’t understand the tense atmosphere. It was just luggage.
“You imbecile!” Mr. Not-Perfect-At-All lunged to a full standing position and used his open palm to slap the tiny brownie on the head.
I gasped, louder this time.
The brownie fell to the floor and laid there. Blood poured from the back of his head.
Outrage exploded inside me. I knew how it felt to be treated poorly, had realized some fairies believed they were superior to other majiks. I wrapped my arms around the column, trying to hold myself back. I was sneaking out of the palace wearing clothes unbefitting the new princess, and I’d disappoint the queen.
Righteousness drummed inside my head. I’d learned I couldn’t stand back and watch injustice, not since being in the dungeons under the human palace, not since my mentor Watu had shown me what was right, not since coming into myself. I’d made it my mission to stand up for majiks. All majiks.
“One piece of my luggage is worth more than you make in a year.” Mr. Not-Perfect-At-All leered over the brownie laying on the floor. He raised his hand to strike again.
The brownie cowered.
I leapt from behind the column and grabbed the Silver Snare at my waist. I cast the whip back and forward, and it understood my intention. The silver threads whistled through the air and snapped around Mr. Not-Perfect-At-All’s wrist, stopping his attack.
“What?” He yanked on his arm.
Coming out of my hiding spot, I pressed my booted feet into the floor, satisfaction thrumming in my veins. “Maybe you’re not paying the brownie enough.”
He jerked on his arm, trying to free himself. His expression went from wide-eyed surprise to slanted red eyebrows and flat mouth. He couldn’t get out of the whip’s grip. “What is the meaning of this?”
His uppity tone sliced me. I’d encountered many others who spoke disrespectfully to me.
“At Queens Castle, we don’t hurt any majik.” I released the whip’s coil, hoping I’d sent the appropriate message.
“Except apparently esteemed fairies.” He rubbed his wrist through his fine silk shirt. “The brownie is my servant, works for me. I can treat him any way I see fit.” His glare would’ve cowered most. Not me. I’d been on the receiving end of worse scowls. “Who are you? The head housekeeping servant who screwed up my suite of rooms?”
Glancing down at the red priestess warrior outfit, I resisted rolling my eyes. I clearly wasn’t dressed as a servant. Or a princess. A dark chuckle escaped. I wasn’t going to tell this jerk anything. “Something like that.”
“I will be informing Queen Dahliadew and Princess Ellery,” his nose flared with distaste, “of your treatment of me.”
My major focus since the announcement I was a princess had been learning how to act like a lady. To be the best princess I could be. This confrontation counted as neither of those. Inner disappointment drilled deeper. Queen Dahliadew had been so patient with me and I didn’t want extra attention from Gardenia. Especially since I was so close to being introduced to the Grand Council and getting accepted into the wand guild. But I also couldn’t let this guy get away with his terrible actions.
“Go ahead and tell the princess.” Just don’t tell the queen. Of course, saying that out loud would be waving a red flag. Instead, I bent down to the brownie and snapped my fingers. A wet cloth and a fiddleleaf appeared in my hand. “Are you okay?”
The brownie glanced at me and his master. Keeping his head low, he responded, “Yes, miss.”
My body warmed as I remembered talking to my good friend Tos. “One of my best friends is a brownie.”
Mr. Not-Perfect-At-All choked.
I ignored him. Using the cloth, I wiped the blood off the brownie’s head and pressed the fiddleleaf against the wound. “My friend’s name is Tos. What’s yours?”
Gardenia had believed it best that Tos and Hokima returned home before the noblets arrived and the Grand Council meeting began. I missed them already.
“Tagh.” He spoke so quietly I almost didn’t hear.
Another sign of fear and possible abuse. I couldn’t accuse anyone without proof though.
Standing, I helped Tagh to his feet and faced Mr. Not-Perfect-At-All. “While at Queens Academy I expect you to treat our servants and yours with respect.”
Spluttering, he tried to stand taller than me. Which he couldn’t do because he was shorter, although not by much. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”
I wasn’t about to tell him anything. Holding a laugh back, I flicked my whip and it recoiled around my waist. “I’ll be watching you.”
* * *
“Then the jerk hit his brownie servant.” I used my anger to slash at Stone with a broad sword. Not my weapon of choice, but one he insisted I learn to use.
Without magic.
Our human enemy owned special technology to freeze magic. Tech I’d personally experienced.
“And of course, you said something.” Raising his muscular arm, Stone used his bulk to fend off my attack with ease. Half human and half giant, he didn’t possess magical powers.
I huffed and glanced around the clearing in the forest outside the grounds of Queens Academy. The tall trees shot up into the sky, creating a canopy of secretiveness. The thick undergrowth discouraged hikers or passersby. The pine scent and the crisp air kept me alert.
No one could discover our secret training sessions. I’d been trying to be the best version of myself. To do all the right things a full fairy princess would do so the fairies would continue to approve of me. The only times I disobeyed was sneaking off for weapons training with Stone and communicating with Rye through the orb. Worry returned, flipping in my stomach.
“I couldn’t let the jerk get away with treating the brownie poorly.” With indignation boiling in my blood, I took a pass forward and lunged. Sweat poured down my back. We’d been training for over an hour without a break. I needed the exercise and the distraction the night before the Grand Council meeting.
