Once Upon a Twist (3 page)

“Your loss,” her sweet voice carried back.

And then she was gone, leaving James utterly confounded. Spending time with Ella had already proved she was not of the same mould as other women. Her reaction to his news about the undead only served to add to her mystique and add to his determination that, whatever the cost, he would keep her safe. It was his duty.

He would get this damn Ball over and done with and then focus his energies on breaching that barrier. Lady Christell would be forced to break the spell or suffer the consequences.

Or he wasn’t Prince James Charming.

***

Ella pulled the last of the rollers from Izzy’s thick auburn hair and scrutinized her work. She had not succumbed to the temptation of turning Izzy’s hair into a frizz-ball. That particular temptation had been tempered by Christell’s pet cat Domino, the ugliest, nastiest feline to have ever walked the land, guarding Izzy like a sentry. If Ella had made the slightest error, Domino would have gone tearing off to his mistress.

In any case, she didn’t want to sabotage Izzy’s night. Izzy might treat her as if she was a bad smell but she didn’t have the innate viciousness of her mother or sister. Somehow, her beatings were gentler too, rarely marking Ella’s skin. There were times, when it was just the two of them, that relations between them were almost friendly.

“What do you think?” Izzy asked.

Ella smiled. “I think you look beautiful. Prince Charming won’t be able to resist you.”

Izzy sniffed. “Rumour has it the prince has already found a bride.”

“Really? Then why go ahead with the Ball?”

“Who knows? It might be only a rumour. Still,” she added, suddenly cheering up, “I’ve heard that his Knights are very pleasing to the eye and there will be plenty of them in attendance. There is nothing more attractive than a man with an air of danger about him.”

So long as you keep your mitts of James, you can do what you like. Or do who you like.

An unexpected wave of compassion for her stepsister suddenly swept through her. She clenched her hands into fists to stop herself from squeezing Izzy’s shoulders and telling her she didn’t need to be the bike of the land; that true love was waiting for her.

The moment was lost when Ana came bursting into Izzy’s bedroom. “Are you ready? Mother says the carriage will be with us in five minutes.”

Unlike her sister, Ana had not trusted Ella with her hair or makeup, having not forgiven or forgotten the time when Ella had deliberately made her look like a clown.

Compared to Izzy’s willowy beauty, Ana looked like a man in drag. Of course, in Ana’s eyes she looked like the Belle of the Ball.

“Come, Cinderella,” said Ana, smiling malevolently, “We can’t have you missing any of the fun. I insist you wave us off.”

In a whirl of sickly perfume, Ella followed them downstairs to where Christell was waiting.

“Girls, girls, you look beautiful.” Her cruel pale-blue eyes then fixed on Ella. “Just think, by the time we return, one of your stepsisters may be betrothed to the Prince. I suggest you spend the evening practising your curtseys. Now get in your cellar.”

The cellar door was soon locked shut, leaving Ella trapped alone in the bottom of the huge house.

When her father had been alive, a fleet of staff had catered to their every need. Christell had fired each and every one, unwilling to risk Ella blabbing to any of them.

Sinking onto the cold, stone floor, Ella hugged her knees.

Despite all her fears about the imminent arrival of the undead, she was feminine enough to feel a large dose of envy that the people of the land were gathering together for the party of the century.

More than anything, she longed to see James. She hated the idea of all those beautiful women at the Ball who were bound to spend the evening flirting and making eyes at him.

It had been only three days since she had seen him but she missed him dreadfully. She closed her eyes. She had known him barely a fortnight and already it felt as if he were a part of her. If she had been free she would be at the Ball with him, dancing with him, his hard body pressed tight against hers…

A wave of fury suffused her at all she was being forced to miss out on. Getting back to her feet she kicked the solid wood door.

“Damn you, Christell,” she howled. “Damn you to hell for killing my father. And damn you too, fairy godmother, for leaving me to cope with all this on my own. Where the hell are you?”

As if by magic – which of course it was – a puff of light appeared in the room. Seconds later, a plump, fluffy white haired elderly lady materialized before her.

Chapter Three

It took Ella a few moments to comprehend what had just happened. She blinked to make sure her febrile mind hadn’t just conjured up her fairy godmother.

“Hello, dear,” Linda beamed. “You called for me?”

“I’ve been calling you for a year and a half,” Ella said, her initial joy quickly turning into petulance.

“Have you, dear? Did you shout? My hearing-aid’s been on the blink.”

“It’s what?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You said you’d be calling in to see me.”

Linda bristled. “Well, dear,” she said, an edge creeping into her voice, “I did have the small matter of ensuring Princess Rosamund didn’t actually
die
when she pricked her finger on that spindle – I did warn her father it was pointless banishing all spindles from the land but would he listen to me…?”

“You’ve got a suntan,” Ella accused, taking in the golden hue of Linda’s skin.

“Well, yes dear. After making sure your stepmother couldn’t kill you and then sorting out Rosamund, I was knackered so I took a nice little cruise.” Before Ella could voice her outrage, Linda hurried on, “Still, I’m here now. No harm done. What can I do for you, dear?”

Ella threw her hands in the air. “I’m sorry for sounding like a brat but Christell has put an enchantment around the cottage that keeps me trapped here. She’s sacked all the staff so I can’t blab about what she did to my father, she’s making me live down here in this horrid cellar and treating me like a slave, and tonight there’s a Ball in the palace and, and…” Her voice thickened. Before she could prevent it, a large tear fell down her cheek, landing with a loud plop on the concrete floor.

“I’m sorry for being such a drip,” Ella muttered, furiously wiping the ensuing tears away, “But there’s an invading army of undead heading for this land and I don’t particularly fancy being trapped and defenseless when they arrive.”

Linda patted her arm. “I wouldn’t worry about them, my dear – I have seen the creatures you’re talking about. They’re all rather thick so I doubt they would be able to break into this cellar.”

Despite herself, Ella laughed and threw her arms around the elderly woman. “Oh, Linda, it’s so good to see you.”

“And you, my dear.” Linda returned the embrace before pulling away. “I don’t mean to be rude Ella, but you stink.”

“So would you if you lived in a cellar.”

“Never fear, Linda’s here. I’ll get you out of this place in a jiffy. Now, where did I put my wand?”

“Behind your ear.”

“Thank you, Dear. Now, this enchantment that bitch put around the cottage…” Considering her age, she bustled around the cellar in a sprightly fashion, pointing her wand in all directions, her nose wrinkling as she muttered under her breath. “Right,” she said when she had finished whatever she was doing. “Christell’s enchantment is very strong – I’ll only be able to break it for five hours, which gives you until midnight to pack your bags and get out of here.”

“I don’t have any possessions. Christell burned them.”

Linda bristled again. “Even as a child that woman was spoilt. Always hated sharing her toys.” Her wizened eyes suddenly alighted with mischief. “Did you say there was a Ball at the palace tonight?”

Ella nodded.

“Are Christell and her horrid daughters there?”

“Yes.”

“And would you like to go?”

“Yes please.”

Linda smiled knowingly. “Is there a young man who’s taken your fancy?”

Ella couldn’t help the flush that spread across her face like an inferno.

“Your attendance would certainly put the cat amongst the pigeons.”

“Yes, it would.”

They shared a conspiratorial smile.

“In that case…” Linda clapped her hands together with such glee sparks flew from the end of her wand, “We need to get you changed into something more appropriate. But, before I start, a princess attending a Ball needs a fine carriage in which to take her. Be a dear and run to the garden and grab me a pumpkin.”

“The door’s locked.”

“Right, right.” A flash of light and the cellar door flew open.

Ella hurried up the narrow stairs.

“While you’re there, see if you can find a couple of rats and a couple of frogs.”

“If you look under my blankets you’ll find Itchy and Scratchy – they’re my pet rats.”

In double quick time Ella returned, carrying the most enormous pumpkin she could wrestle from the ground.

“Not in here, dear – it’s no use having a carriage in a cellar. Put it by the front door.”

Excitement searing through her veins, Ella obeyed, then hurried back outside to the pond. When she returned, this time carrying two of the friendliest frogs she knew, both hopping on her hands in excitement, she found two footmen standing in the cellar. Dazed expressions adorned their endearing rat-like faces. Throwing her arms around them, she laughed, the joy careering through her spilling over.

Linda broke them apart and harried the footmen over to the cellar stairs. “Wait in the kitchen,” she ordered. “Take the frogs with you – run the sink for them.”

Alone with Ella, she studied her critically before aiming her wand at the old trough Ana had installed, thinking it hilarious Ella should eat from a pig feeder. A flash of light and the trough turned into a bath filled with steaming, frothy water.

“Don’t just stand there dear, get in it.”

Another flash and Ella was naked, her ragged dress in a pile by her feet.

While Ella bathed, wishing she had the time to luxuriate in it, Linda waved her wand at a tattered blanket and turned it into a soft, white towel.

“Come on dear,” she chided, “We haven’t got all night.”

The towel was super-absorbent, and in no time at all Ella stood clean, dry and naked before her.

“Underwear?”

Ella shook her head. “My last pair of knickers gave up the ghost months ago.”

Linda cackled. “Never mind. It makes for much easier access.” She pointed her wand at the stinking, ragged dress festering on the floor. This resulted in the largest flash to date, forcing Ella to close her eyes. When she dared open them, she gasped.

“Oh wow,” she said, gazing in awe at her reflection in the full-length mirror Linda had created from a candle. Her hair shone with health and was piled high, golden ringlets framing her subtly made-up face. It was like gazing at a familiar stranger.

Her ragged dress had been transformed into gold silk. The tight bodice had an integral brassiere that pushed her small breasts up, giving the illusion of cleavage while the skirt hooped out and down to her ankles like a shimmering meringue.

“Are these
glass
shoes?” she asked, tentatively admiring her feet.

Linda beamed.

“They’re very pretty but won’t they be a nightmare to dance in?”

“Yes they are glass and no they won’t be a nightmare. They’re molded to your feet. You’ll find they make an excellent weapon if Christell kicks off.” Rolling her eyes at Ella’s quizzical expression, she said, “Take one off and look at the heel.”

Ella obeyed.

“Press the largest diamond – carefully now, we don’t want any blood. Not yet anyway.”

Her curiosity increasing, Ella did as she was told. The heel came off in her hand. On closer examination, she saw it was a perfectly formed, perfectly lethal, dagger.

“If you keep your finger on the diamond, it extends in length,” Linda said.

“This might come in handy when the undead show up,” Ella commented drily.

Linda shook her head. “Sorry dear, but this lot are only good for five hours – once midnight strikes, the shoes will turn back into slippers.”

Ella’s face dropped. “And my dress will turn back into rags?”

“Never fear, Linda’s here.” Her fairy godmother smiled wickedly, before waving her wand again. In a flash a suitcase appeared. “Take that with you and keep it in the carriage while you’re at the Ball.”

“What’s in it?”

“The clothes from Christell’s wardrobe.”

“Brilliant.”

“And a bag of gold coins from Christell’s bureau. That should set you up nicely. Now it’s time to get you to the Ball…”

“There is one more thing,” Ella interrupted with a cheeky grin. “Any chance you could zap the spots on my chin?”

***

Anticipation thrummed through Ella’s veins as the carriage approached the towering red-bricked palace. The stars out twinkling in the clear night sky appeared brighter than usual, illuminating the four enormous towers. She didn’t know what she was more excited about – seeing the looks on Ana and Christell’s faces when they caught sight of her, or seeing James. How wonderful that he would be able to see her looking her best rather than like someone who’d been dragged through a gooseberry bush backwards.

Before they could cross the bridge over the moat, which was surrounded by alert soldiers, they were stopped and asked for identification. Luckily Linda had anticipated such a move and had magically produced an exact replica of Ella’s invitation. The original had no doubt long been burned to a cinder.

Approved, the footmen led the horses over the bridge and into the courtyard. Itchy, who still had a couple of stray whiskers on his now human face, helped her down from the carriage, which looked remarkably like a giant pink pumpkin. After hugging him, Scratchy and the froggy-looking horses (she could only hope no-one stared too hard and noticed their extra-long tongues flicking out to catch flies), she was escorted through a high archway and into the palace.

“I hope I’m not too late,” she said, doing her best to quell the butterflies that were rioting in her stomach.