A Slipper in the Smoke: A Steampunk Cinderella Retelling (The Mechanical Kingdoms Quartet Book 2) by Katherine Macdonald

Author:Katherine Macdonald [Macdonald, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-07-28T16:00:00+00:00

The attempt at softness vanished from the Baroness’ face the second the apartment door closed. Her bony hand fastened around Elena’s wrist. She yanked her into the kitchen, flinging her into the room with such force that Elena fell to the floor.

It wasn’t hard. She had so little energy in her to resist. Even when she was well-fed and well-rested, she’d never fight back.

And the Baroness knew it.

“Filthy, ungrateful urchin!” she hissed.

Mariah squeaked from the next room, inching forward, but Ivanka held her back.

“Bringing that boy here to scorn us—” the Baroness continued.

“He was just walking me home—” Elena protested.

“Something wrong with your legs? You’ve walked these streets a hundred times before! You’ve never once needed an escort. You were just trying to embarrass me—”

“Maman,” Ivanka whispered, coming forward, “we’re all so very tired today—”

“Tired? Tired? You don’t know the meaning of the word!” The Baroness was shrieking now. “You don’t know what it’s like, having the weight of a family on your shoulders, having to organise everything, pay for everything—the responsibility is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy! Do you want us to starve, Ivanka? To lose our home? To be crawling around in the coal dust?”

Ivanka fell silent. Mariah shook beside her, almost weeping.

“Don’t you dare cry, child!” the Baroness railed. “That will do no one any good. And you always look terrible when you cry.”

Mariah’s bottom lip trembled, her blue eyes large and glassy. She caught Elena’s gaze for a couple of seconds… and then turned on her heels and ran.

The Baroness sighed. “See?” she said. “Now look what you’ve done, Elena. It was such a relaxing evening before you came back.”

Came back. Not came home. It was not her home, no more than the mops were at home in a cupboard.

Elena slowly rose to her feet, avoiding the Baroness’ glare.

“Get in your room,” the Baroness said quietly. “No food. We’ve little to spare, and we’ll need to cut corners to make up for your loss. Get to bed immediately. You better be out first thing in the morning.”

Elena nodded, and turned away towards the small, cramped quarters that acted the part of her room. She pulled off her boots, brushed some of the dirt from her skin, and crawled under her thin sheets. Every part of her was sore. Her head pounded.

When the Baroness had first started acting so cruel towards her, Elena told herself that it wasn’t her fault—she was just grieving her husband, lashing out at anyone. She didn’t mean it. It would stop, soon. All Elena needed to do in the meantime was be good and keep her head down.

When the Baroness started becoming more aggressive, throwing and breaking things when she didn’t get her own way, pinching Elena to hurry her up, poking her daughters with a cane to get them to sit and stand and move like ladies, Elena told herself that even if this is who the Baroness was now, Elena was no better if she fought back. She wasn’t like that.

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