The Wronged Princess by Kathy L Wheeler

Author:Kathy L Wheeler [Wheeler, Kathy L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kathy L Wheeler
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Hilda thought her heart would burst from her chest, it pounded so violently. Her daughter. Dear, dear Esmeralda, soon to be introduced to all of Chalmers as the future queen. Why, she could hardly maintain her seat.

And now, a ball in her honor. Esmeralda’s honor, of course. It was a dream come true. Soon, Hilda—would be mother of a princess, a future queen.

Hilda cast a covert glance to Pricilla. With her lovely blonde locks she presented a breathtaking sight in her soft rose gown and drawn up curls. She’d inherited her gray eyes from Hilda. La, the prince was young. Pricilla would have served the family well.

One would think Royalty would have had much better vision. Ah, but it had not been vision, had it? But the size of a foot. Asinine, one could say. But one did not call the prince an ass, did one? Hilda hid a frown behind her wine. To marry Pricilla off advantageously could not be ignored, however. So Esmeralda would be the future queen.

Which left only one pressing issue to deal with. Hilda sipped her wine slowly, conscious of the fragile glass within her grasp, her heart thumping wildly.

She set a thoughtful gaze on Cinderella. She wore a light purple dress that would appear better on one of her vermin field mice friends than her stepdaughter. And where had it come from, pray tell?

It appeared time for one of their heart-to-heart assemblies. Discreetly, of course. The queen seemed to have taken an unnatural interest in her wayward stepchild. No need to worry, however. Opportunities presented themselves in droves. Hilda inhaled the fragrance of the dark red wine. They always had before.

With half an ear, Hilda listened to the hum of conversation, letting her mind drift back to Her Majesty’s sitting room. Tea service trimmed in genuine gold. Bold ornate furniture, spacious chambers. She wanted to hug herself with her glee. The luxury and comfort of the palace left her lightheaded. Soon she would have a suite of her own. Possibly a wing of her own.

“…tour throughout the gardens?” the queen asked.

Deep shades of green and gold velvet covered armchairs of carved, gilded wood. Shimmering draperies that hung to the floor in swathes of silk. Hilda smiled. She had an eye for these things.

“It was lovely. I am especially fond of stories surrounding the Greek gods…” Cinderella’s soft voice snapped Hilda’s attention back with a vengeance. But she took special care in suppressing her disgust.

“Those things cost a fortune to maintain.” The king spoke around a large portion of venison. Still in his mouth.

“The girls did seem to enjoy themselves immensely.” The prince spoke smoothly, but Hilda caught the queen’s grateful flash.

“That’s wonderful,” Hilda murmured, wondering what spell her daughters had suddenly fallen under. She’d always leaned toward the possibility of Cinderella as some sort of white witch. Evidenced by her propensity in keeping company with vermin.

She’d heard the girl talking and snuck into the basement of their previous dwelling and seen the little dormouse dancing at her whim, and the wretched girl coming away with nary a bite.

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