Elmwood Springs Mansion had once been the pride of Tara, a graceful old city on the banks of the Grimm Swamps in Nerdocrumbesia. Alas, even before Malade imposed her taxes, years had taken their toll on the once-prosperous home. Shingles barely hung onto the roof, cracks showed jagged edges on the pale pink stucco walls, and several shutters hung at crazy angles. Crab grass infested every inch of the lawn but the small, meticulously-weeded vegetable garden in the backyard.
Charles privately thought it more resembled a haunted house than a grand manor. Even so, Gene insisted that they dress the part of a wealthy prince and his companion recovering from a terrible ordeal. Richard wore the finest outfit that could be purchased in the local men's store and hoped the patches on the arms didn't show too much. Charles and Gene washed their own clothes and borrowed fancy sashes from Arlene.
Fannie opened the door. Even with her face smeared with soot and grime in her hair, she still had a smile that glowed like the morning sun. “Hello?” She frowned at Richard, who couldn't stop staring at her. “Can I help you? I thought you were here for tea.”
“We are.” Gene gently nudged the bandit into the hall, with Charles following. The hall was dark and dreary, with faded cabbage rose wallpaper and musty brocade curtains on the cracked windows. The parlor she lead them into sported peeling white wicker furniture and slightly tattered pillows with big bows and flounces on the sides. “What happened here, Fannie? I know your father had a hard time keeping up this old place in his later years, but it never got this bad.”
She flung open one of the windows, letting a breeze ruffle her short coppery tresses. “Stepmother funnels all the money from Daddy's business enterprises into courtin' rich husbands for her daughters. Meredith already has a couple of propositions, but I suspect Victoria's more interested in working. She has a nice singin' voice and hasn't done too bad in her actin' classes.” She waved her slender hands along the breeze, letting the winds blow dust from the room and settle tea cups and sandwiches onto plates.”
“How do you do that?” Richard's eyes were as wide as the saucer that blew gently onto his lap. “I've never seen anything like it before.” Gene frowned, but said nothing as he watched the wind dance around the room, straightening shelves and whirling brooms across the floor.
“Oh, it's just my magic.” Fannie shrugged as she took hold of the broom. “I've always been able to do it. Mama could do it too, before she...well, when she was still livin'. That's part of the reason I've been workin' with Arlene, to improve my abilities.”
“Cinder girl!” Ethel could be heard stomping down the hall before she appeared, stuffed into a stiff red brocade gown that strained on her tremendous bosom. “I told you, this ain't a place for servants. You're supposed to be makin' the cucumber sandwiches n' tea cakes, not fraternizin' with the royals!”
Fannie frowned, but nodded. “Yes, Stepmother. Sorry about that. I just wanted to get the gentlemen settled.”
“What's she doing here?” Victoria whined when she stumbled into the room.
“She's just leaving.” Meredith glared at her as she slid in next to Richard on the faded chintz couch. “Right, Cinder Girl?”
Fannie curtsied and quickly ducked out the door. His eyes followed her, even as Meredith wrapped herself around him. “Hello there! Ooh, you look so handsome today! Let me do that for you.” She yanked the tea pot and refilled his cup, even though he'd barely drunk it. “Your Highness, what's it like in the country you're from? Do you have anyone...special? I'm a very accomplished woman, you know. I can play the piano, dance, do needlework, and host an elegant garden party.”
“Me too!” Victoria's nasal honk cut through her sister's giggle. “I really am a good singer. I sang with musicians before....well, when there were musicians. What do you do, anyway?” She dropped by Richard's other side, neatly hemming him in. “I mean, you're a prince and all, but what does that mean? Do you order people around and fight dragons?”
“Uh, yes.” He abruptly placed the tea cup and saucer on the table and pushed both women aside. “Ma'am, where's your water closet?”
“Oh, out in the back, to the left of the chicken coop.” Her bulk somehow rolled off the overstuffed chair enough to stand. “I'll take you there.”
“No!” Meredith grabbed Richard's arm. “I'll do it!”
“Sure you will! You get lost in your walk-in closet!” Victoria yanked his other arm. “Let me do it. He may actually get there!”
He finally managed to dislodge them and dust off his rumpled jacket. “Ladies, please. I'll find it myself.”
Fannie came in with the tray as he stumbled towards the door. Their heads hit the moment he turned around. Tray, finger sandwiches, and little pink cakes went crashing to the floor. “Oh, I'm terribly sorry!” Richard bent over to help her clean up the mess. “Wasn't looking where I was going.”
“That's all right.” Fannie shook her head as she piled broken cakes onto the tray. “Let me do it.”
He gave her a little roguish grin. “I don't mind helping. It was my fault.”
“Cinder girl!” Ethel boomed. “Look at what you did, you little idiot! Can't you do anything right? And in front of guests! Do you know how important this man is? He's a prince!”
“I'm sorry, Stepmother,” Fannie stammered. “It was an accident. I won't do it again.”
“You bet you won't!” Her stepmother snapped, her flabby bosom heaving. “After you bring us a fresh tray, I want you to stay in the kitchen until you're called. You can use the time to scrub the pots and start dinner. And you'll have no dinner yourself tonight!”
Fannie gave a quick nod. “Yes, Stepmother.” As soon as the tray was in her arms, she dashed back out, her cheeks as red as her hair.
Richard's glare would have frozen Lake Todman in the middle of July. “Good lord, she only dropped a tray! If this is how you treat the help, no wonder I've seen no other servants since we came here. They wouldn't want to come within a mile of you!”
“Forgive me, Your Royal Moneybags.” Ethel bowed quickly. “That girl always brings the worst out of me. She's a cast-off from my previous husband. We've tried to remind her of her place, but it hasn't been easy. She's our only servant because we're so very poor,” she dredged up a sniffle, “that we barely have the money to clothe and feed ourselves, let alone hire help!”
Charles coughed. “Weren't you going to the outhouse, Your Lordship?” He noticed Victoria edging towards his chair and jumped out of it as quickly as possible. “Maybe I'll go with you. I'm suddenly feeling the call of nature myself.”
They ducked down a long, narrow hall that reeked of vinegar cleaners and musty old furniture. “Where are we going?” The minstrel frowned as Richard peered into rooms. “Aren't we using the outhouse?”
“We will later,” Richard explained as they made their way into the back of the house. “I just wanted to get away from that horrid woman and her silly daughters. They were starting to squeeze the life out of me!” He looked up as a sweet voice tinkled from the end of the hall. “What's that? It's beautiful!”
“Not bad.” Charles opened the very last door. “I know that song. 'A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes.' Might be a real stage star with some training. With her looks and that voice, she'd make a great part of my act.” He sighed. “If I still had my lute.”
Richard ignored him, following the lovely song right into the kitchen. Fannie swept the mellow old brick hearth, her face smudged with coal dust and her eyes closed as she let herself dream. She barely noticed Richard taking her hand and waltzing her around the room. Charles picked up the song, playing the rest on a slightly damp washboard, even though he felt his heart crack at the love besotted look on Richard's face.
“Hello.” Fannie's eyes fluttered open to the sight of Richard's lips on hers. “You're a wonderful singer,” he whispered huskily. “My friend Bobby heard a girl singing and fell in love with her before he even saw her. I thought he was a bloody fool...but maybe I was the fool.”
She fell back, confusion in her eyes. “How...what brought you here? Shouldn't you be with my stepmother? I don't think she'll be happy to see you here. I'm already in trouble.”
“We came to talk to you.” Charles
dropped the washboard in the sink filled with dirty dishes. “Gene
told us you're a spy at Password Palace. What have you found out?
What's the deal with this ball business?”
Fannie managed to pry herself from Richard's arms long enough to tug a brick out of the fireplace. “My contact at the Palace says she's using the ball as a trap to lure the Queen, Princesses, and remaining wizards out of hiding.” She handed Charles a bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. “This is how you'll know her.”
“Aren't you coming to the ball?” Richard touched her hand. “Then you'll be able to identify her for us yourself.”
“No, I can't. I shouldn't.” She turned to the hissing pot on the fireplace. “I'm a servant. I'm not included in the invitation. Stepmother would never let me go. Besides, they know me there. I've made deliveries at the gates before.”
Richard took a spoon and stirred the soup. “You could do what we're doing and go in disguise.” He gave her that easy smile. “I'm not really a prince, though I was a nobleman. And my man there,” a wave at Charles, “is a minstrel. The troll at Arlene's used to be one of my men. If we can hide our identities, so can you.”
“If you could get me away from Stepmother.” She shooed them to the door. “Give the handkerchief to Gene. Tell him he'll know who sent it. I'll try to get there. We'll figure something out.”
No sooner had they gotten out the door than Richard fell back against the wall. “Charles, she's beautiful,” he whispered. “Beautiful, intelligent, and brave, defying the queen and her stepmother like this! There has to be some way we can help her.”
“We can help her by getting this to Gene and making a plan to get into that ball.” Charles shook his friend's shoulder. “Come on. Let's get back to the parlor, before Lady Ethel asks Gene too many questions he can't answer.”
Lady Ethel was running her fingers over Gene's arm when they returned. “Oh yeah...nice, solid. If if I didn't already know you were a member of the court, I'd know you were a member of the court, ya know?”
“Gene,” Richard broke in, “I'm afraid we need to go. We have...pressing things to discuss.”
“Yes,” Gene added, nodding way too quickly as he jumped away. “Many, many things.”
“Will we see you again?” squealed Meredith. “At the ball, maybe?”
“You could take us to the ball!” Victoria honked. “I'll go with the prince, and Merry can have the nerdy guy.”
Meredith glared at her. “I wanted to go with the prince!” she whined.
“Now, ladies.” Richard plastered a too-wide smile onto his weary face. “Why don't we meet you there? Say at 8 PM? The party begins at 6. That will give you plenty of time to make a fashionable entrance.”
“And it'll give us time,” Gene added quickly, “to consult our own court members and get us ready.” Ethel tried shoving herself a little to close again, leaning into him and putting her arm around his shoulder. He shoved his tea cup on the table and jumped off the couch. “I really think we should be going now.”
Charles had a hand on a lemon tart and a mouth full of raspberry tea. “But we just got here!”
“I agree," Richard twittered as he grabbed Charles' arm. "We're very busy. So much to do before the ball! We'll see you there?”
Ethel's flabby grin reminded Charles of a very happy sow who just found feed for her piglets. “Of course! Wouldn't miss it for the world!”
The trio couldn't get themselves outside fast enough. “Good lord, they were awful!” Richard growled as he rubbed his arm. “The two girls kept crowding me, and their mother was worse. She only cares about marrying her daughters off to nobility, not whether or not they're happy.” He sighed, frowning. “And poor Fannie. She's too beautiful and intelligent to be waiting hand and foot on that crowd.”
“We'll see her again with Arlene,” Gene assured him as he lead them to the small carriage they'd rented in town. “For right now, let's get back to Sherwood Forest. We have plans to make.”
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