Chapter 27

Ihad more fun than I anticipated I would that day. It was my first time since the attack being out in public, and I had been dreading the walk through town the most. But by planting myself in the middle of our little family cluster, I seemed to go unnoticed. The town was quaint. There was a large town square with a stream running through the center, flowers blooming along the banks. Footbridges had been constructed over the water at strategic intervals, and shops dotted the perimeter of the square. I saw bakeries, blacksmiths, glassblowers, hat makers, cobblers, and the tailor shop Comfort had told me about. And indeed, some of the ugliest ball gowns I had ever laid eyes on were proudly displayed in the show window. I caught Comfort’s eye and we quickly held our hands up to our mouths to stifle our laughter.

It was interesting to watch Mother and Algernon. They strolled through town, holding hands. Occasionally, Mother would point and exclaim, “Truly, you simply must try this bakery’s cakes. They are magnificent!” or Algernon would pull coins from his pocket and have each girl toss a farthing into the wishing well. They seemed like any ordinary, happy couple. If I hadn’t known her past and had seen those two on the street together, I would have assumed that she and Algernon had been married for years.

Comfort bounced along beside me, cheerily waving to everyone. It seemed like everyone knew and liked her. The only one who looked like she wasn’t having a good time was Cynthia. She gave off an air of indifference to our company, and lingered at the rear of the group, as if she was trying to match her physical distance from us to the emotional distance she was feeling. Perhaps she was still embarrassed about the day before. I certainly had no idea how to approach the awkward conversation.

The situation seemed very similar to the conversation I had had with Curtis nearly all that time ago. In both situations, an uncomfortable situation had occurred, one that was difficult to address. Perhaps an upfront conversation would clear the air between us, give us a fresh start. It had worked once before.

I waited for a time when Comfort was walking with Mother and Algernon, and I hung back until I fell into step beside Cynthia. I saw her watching me out of the corner of her eye. I could have cut the tension between us with a knife. I wanted this day to be a success for Mother, and I did genuinely regret what I had said to Cynthia the day before.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I blurted out. This time Cynthia looked me full in the face. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I am really sorry. It was super nice to come apologize. If I had seen myself like that for the first time, I would have been shocked too.”

Cynthia didn’t say anything. So I rambled on to fill the silence. “Comfort has said a lot of nice things about you. She says you are a really good cook. Equal to any who worked at the castle.”

Compliments didn’t seem to be getting me anywhere either. She didn’t respond.

We crunched through the pebbled walkway together, wending our way back toward our manor. I tried to find a topic of conversation. When I had apologized to Curtis, we recovered our friendship nearly instantly. Just from a gut reaction, I knew this would be a much more drawn-out recovery for a relationship. Perhaps because we couldn’t recover what was never there. Perhaps boys and girls forgive in different ways. Cynthia finally spoke.

“Funny that your sister never mentioned anything about how you look.”

“Well, I asked her about that, actually,” I said, not sure if she was trying to be conversational or looking for yet another apology. “She said that she didn’t want to spread around stories that weren’t hers to tell.”

“I just think it would have been helpful to have been told in advance.”

I swallowed my annoyance at her frosty demeanor. I would have liked to snap back, but after all that Mother had done, after all that I had heard Algernon saying to Cynthia last night, I figured that I needed to do my best to start getting to know my stepsister.

“Okay, well how about we start over?” I suggested, and stopped in front of her. I resisted the urge to cover my face with my hand, veil, wig, anything to shield me from her penetrating gaze. She avoided looking at the left side of my face, and instead stared at my right shoulder.

I held out my hand. “Good morning, my name is Truly, and I am Lenora’s younger daughter. You must be Cynthia. Comfort has told me so much about you.”

Cynthia nearly smiled, and quickly shook my hand. I pretended not to notice her surreptitiously wiping her hand on her dress after letting go.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said. It was the first thing she had said to me that could have been considered approachable.

“Well, tell me, Miss Cynthia. What hobbies do you enjoy?”

“I like cooking,” she said shortly, but then seemed to make a great effort toward being friendly. “My father and I cook all our meals together. We try recipes from all around the world. Each summer, we vacation in a new country and try to learn how to make traditional dishes from the locals.”

“That sounds fascinating. Which ones are your favorites?”

As she listed off several, I took inventory on Cynthia. She had long, wavy blonde hair, enormous blue eyes, and a very pretty face. Just the sort of girl that every boy liked to look at. Just the opposite of me. With my short, straight brown hair and hazel eyes, I wasn’t anything special. Naturally she would have been shocked to come face to face with me, dripping in poorly applied makeup with no wig when she was used to looking at herself in the mirror.

I realized she was waiting for me to answer a question I hadn’t heard. “I am so sorry, what was that?”

Cynthia repeated, “What is your favorite food?”

“Honey cakes,” I answered honestly. Curtis and I had snuck into the kitchen often to steal them. Any time I ate them now, it reminded me of simpler, happier times.

Comfort was waiting for us around the next bend. “Hey, sis!” she elbowed me in the ribs and completely ignored Cynthia. “Did you see that tree up there?”

I looked past Mother and Algernon. An immense tree guarded the path that led to the woods. It must be very old; it had massively thick branches that spiraled up to the sky, and the trunk seemed to be mostly hollow. A gaping hole loomed out of its center.

“The townsfolk say that this tree is enchanted, and that fairies live in it and will sometimes grant wishes to people who come and wish at the tree and reach inside. The Fairy Godmother Tree, they call it.”

I laughed. “No one really believes that, do they?”

Cynthia cut in. “Anything can happen.”

Still trying to be the peacemaker, I didn’t reply. But really—fairies giving people gifts from inside an old tree? What lunacy!

“So, what is the story behind the tree?” I asked.

Comfort glanced once at Cynthia, who was still keeping pace with us, and began the tale.