Chapter 12

N icholas poked the fire, pushing the logs together until the flames went higher and higher. When Ella’s breathing went deep and he was sure she was asleep, he put aside the poker.

So, his mother had posed as her fairy godmother? No doubt to get her to the ball, but why? Why would his mother do such a thing? He needed to talk to her.

He rose to his full height, taking care not to disturb Ella as she slept. He crept to the cabin door and twisted the knob slowly, keeping a watchful eye on her sleeping form. When he was certain she hadn’t been disturbed, he pulled open the door with a soft creak. He held his breath, glancing back at Ella but she hadn’t moved.

Blowing out the breath, he closed the door behind him with a soft snick and stood on the porch. The woods were silent as snow fell in earnest, blanketing the ground in a thick layer. It would make tomorrow’s travel more difficult.

“Mother?” he whispered into the night. His breath fogged with his words. “Where are you?”

A few moments of silence passed. He walked down the length of the porch to the railing as far from the door as possible. He tried again.

“ Mother , where are you?”

“Right here, dear.” Her voice was behind him.

He spun to face her. Her hair sparkled in the half-light of the porch. She wore a thick white cloak with a fur collar, fur at the sleeves and around the hem. Her hands were covered in white gloves. She looked as though she’d appeared out of a winter dream.

“Sh. Don’t wake Ella.”

She glanced around, surprise and delight plastered on her face. “Ella? You found her? Where is she?”

“Inside.” He gripped her by the shoulders. “And, yes, I found her. Now tell me how to get back to her world.”

“Does she have the slippers?” she asked, worry lines creasing her forehead.

“Yes, she does. Mother—”

“Thank goodness.” She pressed a hand against her chest and moved away from him, forcing him to release her. “I was worried they would fall into Malvina’s hands.”

“They almost did. Malvina knows she has them.”

“Oh, dear. That’s not good at all.”

“No, and Malvina has kidnapped a young girl from the village and…” He paused, raking his hand over his face as he chose his words. “She destroyed the Christmas Star.”

“No!” She gasped, covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

“That’s not the worst of it.” His stomach churned as he stepped closer. “Mother, she said if we didn’t bring her the slippers, she would destroy the village and the Spirit of Christmas.”

Her face blanched for a moment before she regained her composure. She dropped her hand and turned away, facing the falling snow.

“That’s ridiculous. She wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Are you certain?” he demanded. “She wants the slippers no matter the cost. Mother, you have to tell me how to return Ella to her world. It’s the safest place for her and the slippers.”

She turned to face him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, my dear.”

He huffed out a frustrated breath, folding his arms across his chest. “Why not?”

“Because you have to find your own way.” She gave a weak little smile.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is this some sort of test?”

She blinked, giving him her best innocent look. “Whatever do you mean?”

“She told me you were her fairy godmother,” he said. “Care to explain that ?”

“Oh…well, that might be true.” She moved to the railing, gazing out at the falling snow, but she didn’t elaborate. “It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it?”

“Did you send her to the ball?” he asked, his tone demanding.

She cut him a sideways glance and bit her lip. Guilt washed over her face.

“You did !” He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “Why?”

When she said nothing, he began to pace. “For the same reason you sent me? You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”

She spun to face him, her cloak swishing around her. “I only want the best for you.”

“The best being, what…?”

“Well, it’s clear there is no one here in Rovenheim for you. You needed a little push.”

“A push you willingly gave me.” Fury flickered through him. “You lied to me.”

She shook her head. “I never lied. I told you there was a Christmas ball that needed some holiday magic. You delivered.”

Again, he folded his arms across his chest. “And how did I do that?”

She waved toward the cabin where Ella slept. “You gave it to her. If it hadn’t been for that pesky clock tower clanging its midnight bell, you would have kissed her and then—” She clamped her lips shut.

Suspicion lanced through him. The only way she knew he was about to kiss Ella was if she spied on them. “You were responsible for the mistletoe. And then what , Mother?”

She waved away the thought. “I simply must go, my darling. I’m needed at a yuletide celebration in Wickershire.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“No, Mother—”

But she poofed away in a cloud of pale blue smoke. He disliked her cagey responses to all of his questions. He should have known she was up to something when she insisted he attend the Christmas ball in Whitebridge.

His mother, as he knew, was determined to spread her Christmas cheer to every kingdom and village within her power. Likely why she insisted on him going to that ball in the first place. Also, likely why she flitted off to Wickershire, wherever that was. She was the Spirit of Christmas, after all. But then, things were not going well in Rovenheim, so why wouldn’t she stay and help him?

Unless she expected him to figure it all out on his own. The destruction of the Christmas Star atop the tree in the village square was more devastating than he cared to admit. Add that to the mystery of the slippers and getting Ella back to her world, he wasn’t sure where to begin.

He paused at the railing, watching the snow fall in the peaceful night. Slivers of moonlight filtered through the treetops making the snow glisten under its pale light.

Taking Ella to the castle might not be the best idea, but it was the only one he had and the only place he thought she would be safest. He was aware the moment he stepped onto the castle grounds, the concealment spell his mother put on him to hide his identity would be reversed. His true identity would be visible to all those in the castle. When they arrived, how would he explain the servants calling him highness?

He shoved away the thought. He’d worry about that later and instead turned his thoughts to the young girl Malvina kidnapped. Perhaps Ella was right. They should rescue her. The thought of her being a prisoner at the hands of the dark queen didn’t sit well with him. But they couldn’t exchange the slippers for her. There had to be some other way to get the girl back and keep the slippers out of Malvina’s hands.

But how?

The cold pressed into him and with a shiver, he stepped back to the door. He twisted the knob and opened it, peeking through to make sure she still slept. She hadn’t moved at all. The fire was starting die. He closed the door behind him and stepped to the fireplace. Picking up the poker, he pushed the logs around until the flames reignited. He sat on his cushion staring into the fire, determined to find a way to rescue the girl from Malvina and get Ella home.

How, he didn’t know yet.

Ella woke with a start. Disoriented, she sat up, her heart pounding a wild beat. It took several moments to realize where she was. Next to her, Nicholas still slept in front of the fire which was now nothing more than embers.

She had personal needs to tend and pushed to her feet. As she turned to the small kitchen, she gasped and gaped at it. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

But no.

The small kitchen that was nothing more than a few empty cabinets was now a full kitchen with a spread of food. She glanced back at Nicholas who slept on.

She crept into the area trying to understand. A silver tray was piled high with biscuits. Another with scones. There was a wheel a cheese, a loaf of bread, and even out of season fruit.

Behind her, Nicholas yawned and stretched. She spun to face him.

“Did you do this?” She waved to the food.

Confused, he got to his feet to see what she was talking about. He took two steps then halted, staring at the food. Confusion passed over his face before he controlled it.

“I’d like to say I did, but no.”

“Then who?”

He cracked a smile. “Ella, surly you believe in magic by now.”

He reached up and brushed her cheek. As a reflex, she jerked back. He dropped his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You have something on your face.”

There was no looking glass to be found. “I-I do?”

He reached into his pocket and brought out a kerchief. “On your cheeks. It looks like you were too close to the fire.”

She took the kerchief and wiped at her cheeks, hoping she got it all. When he chuckled, he gently pulled the material out of her hand.

“May I?”

Her heart thudded. She nodded.

Taking the kerchief, he brushed her cheeks with gentle pressure. She kept her eyes off of his for fear of looking into them and seeing something she wasn’t prepared to see. He was kind and gentle and it was something she wasn’t used to. When he finished, he tucked the soiled kerchief back into his pocket.

“There. All gone. Shall we eat? We’ll need food if we’re to go to Malvina’s lair and rescue the girl.”

A broad smile crossed her lips. “We’re going to rescue her?”

He nodded. “Yes. I thought about what you said and you’re right. We have to do something. Do you know her name?”

“Ingrid,” she said. “I think her name is Ingrid.”

She thought of Agnes, then, and wondered how she was taking the news her granddaughter had been kidnapped by the dark queen. For a moment, the fear Agnes would give her up crossed her mind, knowing she had the glass slippers. But then, would she betray her in such a way? She wasn’t sure, and it was a real cause for concern.

Shoving that thought aside, she decided worry about something out of her control was senseless.

“Good, then we’ll see if we can get Ingrid out of Malvina’s hands and returned to the village where she belongs.”

Ella picked up one of the scones and broke off a corner. She popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“Do you know where Malvina is?” she asked.

“I do,” he said. “But it will not be an easy trek. And the mountain pass is particularly treacherous this time of year. We’ll need help.” He picked up a biscuit and broke it in half. “And we’ll need provisions.” He paused, looking over the pile of pastries. “Something other than sweets.”

“And,” she said around a mouthful, “a plan for keeping the slippers.”

“The slippers are the least of my concerns.” He paced the small confines of the cabin. “Malvina destroyed the Christmas Star atop the village tree. We’ll need to find a way to repair that, too.”

“It’s that important?” she asked.

He nodded. “It’s the heart of Rovenheim. It’s what makes our season merry and bright.”

She tipped her head to the side as she considered his words. “I always thought how people felt about the season made it merry and bright. Not necessarily because of an object.”

His brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that the magic of the season is within. That it really isn’t about parties or decorating or gift-giving. That it’s about doing nice things for the people you love and spending time with those people.”

She broke off another piece of the scone as she peered up at him through her lashes. She thought of past Christmases with her father. On the eve before the holiday, they would sit together by the fireplace, with all the candles lit, after a hearty meal of roasted duck and vegetables, and he would read to her The Night Before Christmas . She’d leave a plate of cookies out for the Christmas elf for when he delivered their packages. Afterward, her father would tuck her into bed and wish her a happy Christmas and pleasant magical dreams and then kiss her on the forehead.

That was before he married Lillian. Before she and her two, dreadful daughters moved in with them and ruined all their holiday plans. Before her father left and never returned.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

Contemplation crossed his face. “It’s just that, for a moment, you had the saddest look.”

She forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

“I think you’re right, though. That doing things for the people you love and being kind is part of the season. But the Christmas Star was unique. It pulled us together when the outlook for the world was bleak. Centuries ago, it brought peace to our war-ravaged country.”

“Oh.” The word came out as a delicate whisper. “Then I understand why you want to repair it.”

He ate the rest of the biscuit and then brushed crumbs from his hands. “Well, shall we go? We have another day’s trek but should be at the castle by nightfall.”

She finished her scone and nodded, wishing she had a pot of tea to wash it all down. She pulled on her boots and slipped the flour sack with the slippers and the tattered dress over her shoulder, then wrapped the cloak around her. One last glance back at the spread of food and her stomach rumbled again.

With a sheepish glance at Nicholas, she wrapped up several of the pastries in a piece of cloth. He chuckled as he paused at the door, waiting for her.

“They are delicious, aren’t they?” he asked.

Nodding, she tucked the small package into the flour sack on top of the shoes. “They are.”

He pulled open the door to the bright morning sun and the snow glistening on the ground. She followed him out into the crisp air, her stomach giving a lurch. Excitement and apprehension flickered through her at the thought of arriving at the royal castle that evening.