When Glass Shatters

Ciana held the delicate slipper in her hand, each tiny movement casting light on the twinkling diamonds that shined with a brilliance that could shame the sun. They were the final piece to her extravagant wedding attire and had arrived with hardly a week to spare. Made to fit her feet perfectly, Ciana doubted that they would survive past the big day and the jeweled shoes that cost the kingdom enough to feed each citizen for a week would never be worn again after she married Prince Aven.

With the quirk of her lip, she tucked the shoe back into the satin-lined box. A seamstress stitched the last details to her gown, a serving girl refilled her crystal glass with sparkling champagne, all while Ciana lounged on the settee, thumbing the glittering necklace she wore. She had surely come a long way from the humble Baron’s daughter who captured the prince’s heart on the night of the ball.

Her life had never been difficult and her family never wanting for anything. Even after her mother’s death, it wasn’t long before she had a new mother. Camilla brought with her two daughters that were Ciana’s age and her stepsisters made her once lonely life into one of endless chattering. It was Sofia’s eye that picked out the gown Ciana wore that night and Amelia’s daring nature that introduced her to the prince. If not for them, she may not be sitting in the castle, enjoying this new life.

And yet, it hadn’t escaped her that something was amiss. With the wedding day drawing nearer, Prince Aven had become more distant. Try as she might, she couldn’t capture that same look in his eye he had for her on the night they met. It was as if she had lost his interest.

She recalled the last time they’d been alone together. Aven had whisked her away to the castle shortly after his proposal which came merely days after they’d met. With her so near to him, he didn’t hesitate to summon her to him any hour of the day or night. So when she was requested just as the castle was settling for the evening, she thought nothing of it. She was enamored by him after all and was always eager to be at his side.

But that night had been different. He seemed…content to have her and sent her away before she’d even finished tying her corset back into place. Days had passed since then and he’d hardly looked her way. Ciana thought maybe he wanted to wait for their wedding night to summon her again. She hoped it was as simple as that.

Her musing was cut short when the door flung open, causing the servant to drop the glass which shattered across the marble floor. Ciana rose to her feet to confront the intruder but her eyes brushed past the beautiful woman strutting in and fell on Prince Aven.

He always did that to her, vexing her into a stupor. He had that charming smile, even now as it was more of a smug grin. His dark eyes seemed amused as he leaned against the door frame to watch the scene unfold.

“My dear Pri—ˮ Ciana began but was cut off by the sound of fabric shredding. Spinning on her heel, she watched as a strip of white lace fluttered to the floor.

The woman smirked her too red lips at Ciana. “Lace is so gaudy, wouldn’t you agree, my dear Prince.”

Prince Aven gave a lazy shrug of his shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ciana snapped, finally regaining herself.

“I’ve simply come to inspect my wedding gown.”

“Your wedding gown?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, pulling at the skirt then dropping it, her lip curled. “It’s quite tasteless. But I shouldn’t be surprised.” She looked over Ciana as she spoke.

There was something about this woman. Something bewitching. Though she looked beautiful, far more beautiful than anyone Ciana had ever seen, it was impossible to really look at her. Try as she might, Ciana couldn’t quite look into the woman’s eyes. It was as if she saw the suggestion of the woman but not the actual woman herself.

The woman then caught the twinkle of the bejeweled shoes and snatched the box before Ciana could stop her. “What have we here?”

Ciana looked to Aven for help, for him to tell her that this was all a joke. But he continued to watch. She turned back to the woman who had slipped on a shoe. Ciana anticipated a laugh when the woman realized it wouldn’t fit. But to her dismay, it slid on with ease, fitting her foot perfectly.

“Aven,” Ciana pleaded, “You must stop her.”

“Why would I ever do that?” he asked, forcing a look of utter disbelief.

Ciana was pulled forward by the force of the woman grabbing a handful of the skirt of her dress. The fabric ripped and a piece of the finely embroidered material was cast aside.

“Did you really think that a prince would marry a lowly Baron’s daughter?” the woman spat, tearing at her dress again. She backed Ciana against a wall, shredding the beautiful design of her gown until it was left in tatters. Any time she raised her hands to fight back, the woman’s long nails sliced her arms. “You may be lovely to look at but that doesn’t change what you are.”

The woman grabbed Ciana’s necklace and snapped the string. Clutching the broken ends to stop the jewels from tumbling, Ciana looked desperately to Aven for help but when his eyes met hers, her heart sank. He looked bored.

“Are you finished yet?” he asked with a sigh.

The woman looked over her work with a satisfied grin. “I think she finally looks her station.”

He waved his hand and two guards walked into the room. Taking Ciana by each arm, she was dragged from the castle. Servants, maids, Prince Aven’s brothers, all stopped what they were doing to watch her shame as she was discarded like an old book one had grown tired of reading. Aven had his arm draped around the woman’s shoulder as they followed.

Ciana wretched herself free from their grip once they were outside and yelled, “Why are you doing this?”

The woman leaned over Ciana. She had a strange smell to her. Not quite like the muskiness of perfume, but like the overpowering mixture of herbs. Somehow, it smelled familiar and made Ciana sway a little on her feet. “Silly girl,” she whispered, her breath hot on Ciana’s ear. “Can’t you see the truth right in front of you? You’re not his queen anymore.”

With a final shove, Ciana was thrown into the fresh mud, the cold seeping through every tear in the dress. Jewels cascaded down the broken string and sank into the muck, never to be seen again.

Prying herself from the mud, she got to her feet. Prince Aven stood there, looking down at her with a smirk on his lips. He was done with her, she realized. He had found someone more beautiful, someone who didn’t bore him as she had begun to. Now, she was nothing more than another one of his nameless citizens.

Jutting her chin and keeping herself standing tall, Ciana said, “I’ll expect my carriage to take me home.”

Prince Aven waved a hand as he turned his back to her. “I have far greater concerns than summoning a carriage.”

He stepped into the castle with his new bride clinging to his arm. She looked over her shoulder for one final victorious smile before the doors were closed on Ciana.

As if the fates weren’t finished with her, the clouds unleashed their torrential rain. She was instantly soaked through, her exposed slip becoming transparent. Realizing she had no amount of dignity left, she wrapped her arms over her chest and began the shameful walk home.

Eyes couldn’t help but stare. From every window she passed, curious faces watched as the woman they thought would be their princess trudged through the flooding street, leaving behind a muddy trail.

Shivering from the cold, relief washed over her at the sight of her home in the distance.  A plume of smoke rose from the chimney and she picked up her pace, eager for the warmth of a fire and the embrace of her father.

***

“You have shamed us all!” screamed her stepmother.

Ciana clutched a blanket around her shoulders, still shivering despite the change of clothes. Camilla paced the room while her father sat hunched over, rubbing his hand over his beard, his eyes glossed over as he was deep in thought.

Sofia and Amelia sat next to him. Sofia wore a condescending grin, her left hand placed over her crossed knees, wriggling her fingers not so discreetly so that her large jeweled ring caught the light and flashed its brilliance at Ciana. Amelia, instead, looked at her with disappointment. As the only one unspoken for, she had hoped that Ciana’s marriage to the prince would give her the chance of marrying someone high in the court like Sofia. It was even more painful for Ciana to look at Amelia as she realized that she could never repay her.

The firelight casted a golden glow on Camilla’s dark, rich skin. Sofia and Amelia weren’t quite as dark as their mother, but they all shared that umber tone to their skin. Camilla called herself a rarity when in a flattering mood, and an outcast when reminding others how far she had come. Ciana’s marriage to the prince was the highest esteem Camilla had achieved for her daughters but now Sofia’s engagement to the Viscount was their greatest claim.

Ciana stood to leave but Camilla hadn’t finished unleashing her rage on her. Camilla’s sharp nails dug into her arm as she grabbed her. Ciana tried to tug away but her grip only tightened.

“Mom,” she whispered, for Camilla was her mother. She had taken the place of her birth mother when Ciana was still a young child. Ciana knew very little of her birth mother, a woman of mystery who left very little behind in way of both memory and heirlooms. Camilla had been the one who wiped away her tears, who cleaned the bloody scrapes when she tumbled, had taught her how to keep her head held high even when everyone around her didn’t see her worth. But in that moment, even Camilla didn’t see Ciana’s worth. If she could be discarded by the prince a mere week before their wedding, she could certainly discard the girl that was never her own daughter.

Camilla lifted her hand and for a moment Ciana thought she was going to thumb away her fresh tears like she had done so many times before. Instead, she pushed back a lock of Ciana’s blonde hair, still caked in mud. Her lip curled slightly and she released her.

“Beauty isn’t enough for everyone,” she whispered and turned her back to Ciana.

Her father never looked up to meet her eyes. Sofia busied herself with admiring her engagement ring. Amelia’s shoulders racked as she cried silent tears. With her head lowered, Ciana walked out of the room, more shameful than she was when she left the castle grounds in the pouring rain.

***

Ciana would never say that she missed the early crow of the rooster. The damned thing was always an hour ahead of the sun so the day at Ciana’s home started earlier than most. Her mornings of rising when she pleased were over but she felt an odd comfort being back in the familiar. Even if her family remained disappointed in her, they were family and nothing would surely break that bond.

Except for Prince Aven’s cruelty. It hadn’t been enough to throw Ciana into the mud. With the sunrise came a new set of humiliation.

Dressed once more in the modestly lovely dresses she was accustomed to, Ciana padded down the stairs for breakfast only to find the house empty. She wandered the manor until noticing the crowd gathered at the front gate. Every servant employed by her family were lined up and a group of onlookers watched as the messenger read from the parchment in his hands. Grabbing the skirt of her dress, Ciana raced out the door.

“—and so, by decree of his Royal Majesty, Prince Aven, heir to his father’s throne, Baron Bartolomeo is henceforth stripped of his title.”

Ciana nearly tumbled on her own feet. Camilla glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes narrowed at her.

Murmurs rose from the crowd beyond, their bulging eyes eagerly watching the scene unfold. The servants were each dismissed from Bartolomeo’s service and instantly re-employed by those quick enough to snatch them up. Even if a household didn’t need the extra cook or could barely afford to hire a simple maid, they didn’t hesitate to take something that had once been the Baron’s.

“His final decree,” the messenger continued once the noise died down, “hereby forbids any member of the former Baron’s family from the court, with the exception of Sofia.”

Sofia’s eyes brightened. She had been clinging to Amelia, her lips pursed tightly, no doubt waiting for her marriage to be called off as well.

“With her marriage to Viscount Florian, Prince Aven sends along his blessing.” Concluding, the messenger rolled the parchment and tucked it into his coat. With his departure, most of the crowd dispersed but a few lingered to watch.

Camilla shot them a scowl that sent them scurrying away and she leaned over her husband, whispering in his ear. But Ciana’s father never moved. He stood with shoulders slumped, hands limp at his side.

“Father,” Ciana whispered, reaching out for him.

Camilla slapped her hand away. “Don’t you dare speak to him. This is all your fault.”

Ciana clutched her hand to her breast. She wanted to argue, to claim that she had done nothing wrong, but she couldn’t say such words. Because she had done something. She had bored her prince. She hadn’t been enough for him and she had disgraced her family.

Her father’s eyes were vacant and dull. The wrinkles on his face had deepened overnight, adding at least a decade to him. His chest hardly moved with each breath.

“I’m so sorry,” Ciana muttered. The back of her hand grazed his and he snatched it away. Ciana recoiled at the motion but instantly knew that it wasn’t her touch that sent him lurching away.

His fingers clutched at his shirt, as if trying to take hold of his own heart. He fell to his knees, his jaw hanging open like he wanted to scream but couldn’t.

“Father,” Ciana shouted, dropping to her knees as well.

Camilla shoved her back, screaming, “Don’t touch him!” Her arms embraced him as he fell against her. “Barto,” she pleaded in a whispered. “Barto, speak to me. What’s wrong?”

But Bartolomeo never spoke a word. He grunted and whimpered until his eyes rolled back and his body went cold.

***

Bartolomeo did not get the funeral he deserved. He was mourned only by his family and the few who didn’t equate Ciana’s failure with him. Camilla had to ration out their money, so he was lowered into the ground at the ends of the churchyard in a casket made of thin wood. He had to be buried in his poorest set of clothes, as she had begun to slowly sell anything of value.

The day of her father’s funeral, before Ciana was ready, she heard the lock click on her door. She pulled and twisted on the handle but found that nothing worked. Her screaming went unanswered and she watched from the window of her room as her stepmother and stepsisters climbed into their carriage to see her father one last time. Amelia was the only one to glance up at her and though her eyes betrayed her sympathy for Ciana, she stepped into the carriage and they disappeared down the road.

And so, Ciana mourned alone, locked away in her room with no one to wipe away her tears, no one to hear the wishes she whispered to the silent void.

When the carriage returned, the lock clicked once more on her door. Ciana flung it open to find Camilla standing in her doorway, a bucket in one hand and a rag in the other. She thrust them into Ciana’s hands.

“The girls and I are famished. We expect lunch in an hour.”

“But ̶ˮ Ciana called as Camilla turned away.

“You must be useful somehow,” she replied coldly over her shoulder.

Ciana found no words. Camilla was right, she ought to be useful and this would be the only way how. With no maid to clean, no cook to prepare the meals, no servant to mend the dresses, Ciana had to become all of them.

And so for the rest of the day, she prepared a lunch for her stepmother and stepsisters. She didn’t join them at the table. She didn’t meet any of their eyes. She just scrubbed away the dirt and dust amassing since the dismissal of their maids. She worked late into the night and only then did she return to her room to find all of her lovely dresses and lovely shoes gone. The powders and creams that once made her more beautiful had been cleared away. Every last piece of jewelry was missing from her vanity.

All were sold and yet, while Ciana begun to wear ragged old dresses, dull in their color and shape, her sisters continued wearing their beautiful gowns. Their cheeks were colored pink, lips painted red. As Sofia’s wedding day drew closer, her dresses became lovelier and her disdain for Ciana uglier.

***

The first time Ciana went into town after her father’s death, she hung her head in shame. Whispers followed her around every corner and she knew she was being overcharged at the market but paid the price anyway.

But after weeks passed and the stares hadn’t stopped, she began walking with her head high. Camilla had taught her one thing well and even if her stepmother no longer spared her a glance, she was grateful for those things she learned.

No longer did she allow any of the sellers to overcharge her either. When a woman demanded twice the usual amount for a sack of hazelnuts, Ciana set the right amount on the table and waited until the woman gave in and accepted the payment. After that, there were only a few more attempts at swindling away more money but Ciana never relented. If a merchant wouldn’t budge, then she walked away, planning an improvisation to the recipe or deciding to hold off on that particular chore until she had what she needed.

Ciana knew she would never regain the respect of the people again, but at least she wouldn’t be bullied by them. Her resolve didn’t mean that they never tried.

On a particularly expensive trip, Ciana suddenly felt her pocket grow much lighter. Her stomach sank as she realized too late and just caught the glimpse of the thief as he vanished in the crowd but not before he glanced back at her with a smirk.

Once upon a time, Ciana would’ve shrugged off the incident as the fates taking another swing at her. She would’ve accepted her losses and returned home to face Camilla’s wrath. But after her last piece of jewelry sold for barely a pittance, she couldn’t afford to lose any more money.

Snagging a handful of her skirt, she chased after the man. Shoving people out of the way, she eventually caught sight of him again and followed as he turned down a street. As she rounded the corner, she realized that he had vanished. She stood there a moment, catching her breath and wondering if the fates had indeed won.

Just before she turned back, the man reappeared at her side, nearly startling her off her feet. As she opened her mouth to shout, he held up her purse. Taken aback, Ciana knitted her brows and snatched it back. She checked that every penny was still there.

“It’s very rude to steal someone’s purse,” she muttered.

The man looked at her with a smile, a charm to him that reminded her of Prince Aven. It caught her by surprise, her heart fluttering in a way that it hadn’t since she danced with Aven at the ball. But there was something this man had that Aven never did. His eyes had a brilliance to them, a spark of excitement mixed with a deep kindness.  He wore a dark green cloak, the color of dense foliage, his hood drawn up so that it hid his hair.

“I had to do something to catch your attention,” he admitted.

Ciana narrowed her eyes. “By stealing my purse?”

He spread open his palms. “It’s not stealing if I returned it. Besides, I only steal from those who deserve it.”

“And what gives you the right to decide who deserves it?”

He flashed his teeth and shrugged his shoulder. It was then that Ciana noticed the bow slung across his body. “Sometimes fate needs a little help.”

Ciana huffed at that. “And if I hadn’t chased you down? Would you have kept my purse?”

He looked at her with quirked brows. “I never doubted that you’d run after me.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Which is why I had to get your attention.”

Ciana began to roll her eyes but a shout erupted from the end of the street. The man spun on his heel and Ciana stood on her toes to see another man dressed very much like him fleeing from an angry crowd. His arms cradled something heavy and a few coins jingled to the ground behind him.

“It seems my man is having a bit of an ordeal. I must be going,” he admitted. “Such a shame I didn’t even get your name.” He said it more like a question and he didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave.

“Ciana,” she said.

Taking her hand in his, he grazed his lips over her knuckles. “May fate let our paths cross once more.”

She nearly chastened him for his over exaggerated flattery but he was already racing down the street. “What’s your name?” she shouted after him. He simply looked over his shoulder, flashed that charming smile, and kept running.

***

Ciana eventually gave up trying to hide her smile before she returned home. She decided that no one paid her any mind anyways so what did it matter if she returned from the market with her cheeks flushed in a rosy hue? Except someone had taken notice.

She was distracted by the thoughts of the dashing man who had stolen her purse just to talk to her when Amelia startled her. She leaned over the counter, giving Ciana that conspiratorial smirk that they exchanged with one another when they plotted ways to make a gentleman stutter his words or to convince their father to let them take the horses out for a ride.

“You’re blushing,” Amelia said.

“You’re speaking to me,” Ciana quipped back.

Amelia lowered her head, her fingers fidgeting. “I’ve missed you.”

Ciana clenched her jaw tight. She wanted to admit the same but she had spent weeks alone when all Amelia needed to do was knock on her door.

“Sofia will be leaving soon. Once she’s married, we probably won’t see her again.”

“And when she’s gone, then you and I can be sisters again?” Ciana asked with a sharp bite to her words.

Sofia had always been the bossiest of the three. When she wanted to do something, that was what they did. If she wanted a particular gown or necklace, Ciana and Amelia would give it to her. Although Sofia had smiled when Aven proposed to Ciana, she caught a hint of jealousy in her eyes. Sofia had helped her find the perfect gown but secretly, she had hoped that her own beauty would capture Aven’s heart.

When Ciana’s fall from grace had threatened her own marriage, Sofia had turned against her, dragging Amelia onto her side. And what choice did Amelia have? Sofia was the only one who hadn’t fallen out of Aven’s favor and if Amelia ever hoped to marry, she needed Sofia.

“Mother cries herself to sleep every night,” Amelia admitted. “She misses dad.”

“So do I,” Ciana finally snapped, slamming her hand on the counter. She hunched forward, shaking her throbbing hand. The silence dragged out for too long and Ciana resumed rolling out the dough for the pie crust.

Finally, Amelia said, “I’m sorry.” Ciana blinked away tears, keeping quiet. “Mother did love you. I think she still does.” Another pause filled the air. “I still love you.”

“I can’t give you anything anymore.”

“You can give me forgiveness,” she offered. “I don’t want anything more than to be your sister again.”

Ciana had been desperate to hear those words. Despite everything that had happened, she wanted nothing more than to have her family back. Amelia was the one offering to grant that wish and she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. She handed Amelia the pie dish and retrieved the pot of cherries from the stove.

“So who is he?” Amelia asked as she pressed the pie crust into the pan. “This man who has you so bewitched?”

The heat rose to her cheeks once more and Ciana distracted herself with the sugary cherries. She plucked one from the bowl, staining her fingertips red.

“No one,” she replied.

“Someone makes a girl blush like that.” Ciana poured the filling into the pan and Amelia spooned out the sticky remnants clinging to the bottom. “Alright, don’t tell me,” she conceded. “I’m just happy that you’re enamored with someone after what Prince Aven did to you.”

Ciana bit down on her lip. She hadn’t spoken with anyone about what happened with Aven and she wasn’t sure she was ready to even now.

She thought about the thief, a man who made it his life to steal things. Perhaps that was all that she deserved. At the very least, his was the only affection she was capable of procuring. Who else would want Prince Aven’s scraps?

“I still can’t believe he did that to you,” Amelia went on. “He seemed so in love with you.”

And that’s when it hit her. She hadn’t lost Prince Aven’s favor, it had been stolen from her. Whoever that woman was, she had done something to Aven, had bewitched him somehow. If Ciana could break the spell, she could have her fiancé and her life back.

“I need a favor.”

***

Many years ago, deep in the woods, Ciana and Amelia stumbled upon the home of a witch. Though she much preferred to be called an enchantress. She had invited the girls in for tea and sent them home with bundles of herbs for many different things, some useful but most vain. They had wasted them all on the vain.

When Ciana knocked on the door of the enchantress, the woman looked none too surprised to see her and invited her in. She was immediately taken back many years to her first visit as she inhaled the mixture of herbs. Somehow, it even made her think of her mother, though not one of the few memories she had of her involved such a powerful smell.

It then dawned on her why Aven’s new bride had smelled so familiar.

With a steaming cup of tea set before her, the enchantress sat across the table and stared at Ciana. Not a word had been spoken between them until Ciana muttered, “I think Prince Aven has been placed under a spell. I believe his new bride is an enchantress.”

“Of course she is,” the woman confirmed, as if she were assuring Ciana that the sky was blue.

“How did you know?”

“An enchantress always recognizes another enchantress.”  She gazed at Ciana for a long moment, as if waiting for her to understand something. When she didn’t respond, the enchantress gently plucked a cube of sugar and dropped it into her tea. Her spoon clinked against the glass as she swirled it round and round. “It’s also rude to keep an enchantress waiting. You’re a week late.”

Ciana frowned at that. “I wasn’t aware that I had an appointment.”

“Perhaps fate told me the wrong day,” she mused.

Fate. It couldn’t be a coincidence that both the thief and the enchantress threw around that word so casually. “Why were you waiting for me?” Ciana asked.

“There are rumors that another enchantress did live in this town and that she died sixteen years ago. I’ve been waiting for her daughter.”

“I’ve been here once before,” Ciana reminded her.

“Yes, but with another. This daughter was supposed to come alone, bearing the rags of a maid.”

Heat rose in Ciana’s cheeks. She hated to be reminded how far she’d fallen. “You’re mistaken. I’m nothing but an ordinary woman coming to you for help.”

“Tell me, what colored eyes does Prince Aven’s new bride have?”

Ciana recalled the woman. She could never forget the moment that everything was stripped away from her, as easily as the lace that had been stripped from her gown. She thought about her eyes, how they danced with delight. But Ciana couldn’t recall a color. Every time she tried to remember, the harder it was to say just what exactly her eye color had been.

“An ordinary person would see the color they wanted to see,” the enchantress concluded. “To an ordinary person, she looks beautiful and captivates the eye. Only an enchantress could see beyond another’s spells.”

Ciana shook her head. “I didn’t come to you for wild guesses about my mother.” She lifted her cup and sipped at her tea. “I want to know how to fix things.”

“You mean to have him fall back in love with you?”

“What else would I mean?”

“Tell me what he loved about you.”

Ciana frowned, setting her cup back onto its saucer. “Well…well we danced all night at the ball and he couldn’t take his eyes off me. And he said I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met…” Her voice trailed off.

“And why do you love him?”

Ciana’s lip twitched, as if she wanted to smile but then forgot to do so. “He could always make me smile.”

“And does he still?”

She didn’t answer. The tea grew colder in her hand.

“But there is another,” the enchantress went one. “Someone who has made you smile.”

Her lips moved of their own accord. Her heart betrayed her with a flutter. She didn’t even know the man’s name and yet, he invoked such a reaction from her. But she did know that he was a thief. What sort of life could he offer her?

“If I were to break the spell on Prince Aven, would he take me back?”

The enchantress steepled her fingers, leaning over the table. Her deep-set eyes bore into Ciana with their all-knowingness. “It is possible but cannot be guaranteed. He may never want you back.”

“You gave Amelia and I potions that enchanted men’s hearts once before. Can’t you give me another?”

The enchantress’s eyes darkened. “I gave you herbs that could be used for many different things. You were the one that chose to use it to make a boy fall in love with you.” Ciana leaned back in her chair, trying to withdraw from her penetrating gaze. “But it never worked, did it?”

“We thought we’d done something wrong,” Ciana admitted. “That we hadn’t used the herbs properly.

“You hadn’t,” she confirmed. “Because it takes far more magic than a little potion to bewitch a person. At least for longer than a few hours.”

“Can’t you give me that magic?” Ciana begged.

The enchantress scoffed, pressing her palms flat on the table. “You think magic comes for free? That I’m nothing more than a…a magical godmother who will give you anything you desire?”

“I must do something.”

“Perhaps you can,” the enchantress whispered, tucking a finger under Ciana’s chin.

***

The sharp edges of the book dug into Ciana’s ribs as she concealed it beneath her coat. She sneaked in through the kitchen where Amelia covered for her. With Camilla fussing over Sofia in preparation for her wedding, Ciana wasn’t even missed.

Amelia scrubbed at the dishes used to prepare lunch but stopped when Ciana set the heavy book on the counter with a thud.

“What’s that?”

“The answer to fixing everything.”

Amelia ran her eyes over the strange looking text, slowly frowning as she realized just what kind of book it was.

“You can’t do magic,” she hissed.

“And why not? Magic is what took Prince Aven from me. I should be able to use it to get him back.”

Amelia shook her soapy hands, then dried them with a towel. “You remember the last time we tried to make a potion. It didn’t work.”

“We didn’t know what we were doing. And we didn’t know –“

“Didn’t know what?”

“The enchantress thinks my mother may have been one as well. She says the only way to know for certain is to learn and practice.”

“Ciana,” Amelia whispered. “Magic can be dangerous. You could be killed for it. Especially if someone found out you were planning to enchant the prince.”

“Not enchant. Free. I promise, I won’t do anything to sway the prince. I just want to break the spell on him and see if he takes me back.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Ciana chewed her lip. “You were always the brave one,” she reminded her.

Amelia sighed. “Don’t try to guilt me into helping you.”

“I’m not. I’m only asking that you keep my secret. Once I marry the prince, then you can marry any man you want.” Ciana took Amelia’s pruny hands in hers. “Please. Let me try to make it up to you.”

***

And so, Ciana spent her nights poring through the book the enchantress had given her. Amelia kept her word and her studies remained a secret. She also began doing half the chores for Ciana who would often be too sleepy for the early morning tasks.

Slowly, the enchantress was proven to be right in her guess. The more Ciana practiced, the more adept at spells she became. It didn’t escape her to wonder if her father ever knew about her mother, or to even speculate if her own father had been bewitched. Sometimes, these thoughts would distract her from practice for hours until she one day decided that it hadn’t mattered if she was the result of a love spell. What mattered is how her father had looked at Camilla, from the moment he saw her until his death. He had loved, and that was most important.

Whenever Ciana thought about breaking Prince Aven free of the spell and him falling in love with her again, her mind would often replace Aven with the nameless thief. Most of the time, she would catch it and force herself to stop thinking about him. But there were times when she wouldn’t realize that for several minutes, possibly even hours, she smiled to herself like a lovestruck child at the memory of the thief and his charming smile.

She went into town more and more often, doing whatever she could to spare a coin for herbs and ingredients for spells. She always hoped that she would see the thief one more time and whenever she went into town, she did see him, but not in the way she wanted.

 It wasn’t soon after their first encounter that the man’s face began appearing on every wanted poster lining the streets. One day, Ciana lingered a little too long gazing at the image of him and didn’t notice the shadow overtake her.

“Such a shame that they can’t quite capture my charm in these things.”

Ciana spun so suddenly that her head banged against his. The thief rubbed at the knot that would no doubt form on his forehead with the back of his hand. That hand held a sack full of coins. Ciana instantly checked for her own purse but it was untouched.

“I told you, I only steal from those who deserve it. If they bothered to mention that on these posters, perhaps I’d have far less enemies.” He did that same shrug, the one where his head dipped so that his cheek nearly touched his shoulder. Ciana couldn’t explain how that gesture made her fluster the way she did.

“Or they’d wonder what would make them deserve it next,” she retorted.

He looked genuinely pained by that accusation. Ciana realized that he wore much of the same clothing he did when they first met. They were certainly not the clothes that a thief with hoards of gold should wear. In fact, the only extravagant thing on his person was the bow and quiver of arrows.

“You must be a terrible thief,” she commented.

He looked at himself and tugged at the fraying edge of his tunic. “I don’t keep the money,” he explained as if it were obvious.

“What do you do with it then?”

“Hey!” a shout interrupted. Two guards had finally taken notice of them.

“As I said before,” the thief said, shoving the sack into his satchel, “Just giving fate a hand.” He winked before turning on his heel and fleeing the pursuing guards.

Ciana smiled as she watched him go. Until a guard went out of his way to knock over a stack of pumpkins at her feet. Though she was covered in splattered bits of pulp, she’d managed to leave the stand without sparing a single coin in reparations for the damage. Her shoes squelched all the way home but she didn’t let it bother her. She knew that it wouldn’t be long until she was ready to break the enchantress’s spell.

As she continued practicing, the thief’s words often repeated themselves in her head and she began to believe they were true. Fate did seem to need her help. It wasn’t fair that Prince Aven would marry a woman that he didn’t love and who had stolen any chance he had at love. And maybe some people did deserve to be robbed of their riches. No one had certainly given her father the curtesy of his own dignity. They had swooped in and taken all of his servants without hesitation, more interested in seeing him crumble than giving him a crutch. And so, Ciana would interfere with fate and save the prince’s heart and would leave the thief to his own meddling with fate.

***

The evening before Prince Aven’s wedding to his new bride, Ciana and Amelia waited for Camilla and Sofia to leave in the carriage for the ball at the castle. The festivity was planned to last late into the night, with the wedding to take place in the morning. It was Ciana’s last chance to reclaim her place at Aven’s side.

When the carriage was out of sight, Ciana and Amelia stepped out of their home, each dressed in the loveliest gowns in the house. Ciana did have a hand in make them more beautiful, ensuring that all eyes would be drawn to the two of them that night.

When two field mice scurried by, Ciana enchanted them into horses. The magic wouldn’t hold forever but it would at least get them to the castle.

As Ciana mounted her horse, Amelia pressed a hand to hers. “Are you sure?”

“It’s the only way,” she reminded her.

“There are many ways. Sometimes the bravest thing isn’t the most obvious one.”

Ciana hesitated only a moment before her resolve returned. “Come on.”

With the setting sun to their backs, they rode for the castle. Ciana’s heart hammered in her chest. So many things could go wrong that night, and what happened next was the last thing she expected to happen.

Blocking the road to the town were five men on horseback. And in the center was the thief, bow slung over his back and that charming smile on his lips.

“Ciana!” he called to her.

She had stopped several feet away and the heat rushed to her cheeks. Her mouth had suddenly become dry.

Amelia wasn’t fooled for a second. It merely took a glance between the two of them for her to realize. “It’s him,” she whispered.

Ciana shushed her sharply. She couldn’t risk everything falling apart because tonight had to be the night she saw him again. Why couldn’t fate just let her intervene the way she wanted to?

“My apologies,” the thief said, gesturing at the men around him. “But we were planning to take the road and relieve some courtesans of their shiny trinkets.”

“And will you let us pass?” Ciana asked, aware that she and Amelia looked every bit like a rich courtesan. “Our purses are empty.”

She suddenly felt a wave of fury at the sight of his smirk, but whether it was born of the fact that she wanted to embrace him or hit him, she couldn’t quite tell. She wanted to believe the latter because he stood in her way, but deep down, she knew it was the former. Or it was neither and she was merely furious at herself because she was choosing not to embrace him.

He drew his horse to the side of the road and gestured for them to pass.

Ciana kept a wary eye on him as they approached. Her fingers tightened on the reigns the nearer she came to him. But he and his men did nothing to stop them from going by.

“If I may,” he called out to her. She stopped her horse and turned back. “Fate seems to have a sense of humor, doesn’t it?”

Her brow perked. “Why do you say that?”

“I had a feeling that tonight would be the last chance I got to see you again. For some reason or another.”

“And why does it matter if you never see me again? The only thing you know about me is my name.”

He shrugged, the same gesture from the first time they’d met. “A name is all I needed. Your name told me that you are the lovely Ciana, Baron Bartolomeo’s daughter who was once engaged to Prince Aven when he suddenly cast you out.”

Ciana’s chest tightened and she blinked quickly to stop the tears. She didn’t want to hear the thief paint her pathetic life out for her. She didn’t want his pity. She wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“You asked me what gives me the right to decide who deserves to be robbed,” he continued. “Well, don’t you think that people like Prince Aven deserve it? That perhaps fate needs a little help in making things right for people who don’t have the power to do it themselves?”

Ciana let out a slow breath, her hands shaking. “Prince Aven needs my help. I’m sorry, but you be on your merry way and I won’t tell anyone I saw you.”

The disappointment in his eyes was almost as crushing as the empty look her father gave her just before he died. But this time, she wasn’t going to be useless. She had a purpose and the clock was ticking against her. With a swift kick, she sent her horse racing into town, Amelia at her heels.

Houses blurred as they flew by. People jumped away before being trampled by the horses. Ciana could barely see through her teary eyes but she didn’t let her horse slow.

“Ciana. CIANA!” Amelia shouted.

She yanked back the reigns, pulling her horse into a sudden stop at the gate. Amelia came between her and the castle, breathless from shouting Ciana’s name.

“He never loved me,” Ciana whispered. She had realized this, had come to accept it, but now that she stood on the brink, having the power to make him love her, she couldn’t bring herself to take another step forward. It was only in this moment did she accept that she had allowed a man who saw nothing but her beauty to take everything from her.

Maybe if she had spoken up and fought back against the assumption that she hadn’t been good enough for him then perhaps her father would not have died in shame. If she had held her head as high as Camilla, called herself a rarity rather than a outcast, then Camilla would’ve never forsaken her. Sofia had always been waiting for her to fall but maybe Ciana had also secretly hoped that she would always beat Sofia.

“Tell me,” she said quietly. “Is it cowardly to stay or to run?”

Amelia thumbed away a tear from Ciana’s cheek. “You are the strongest person I know. I don’t doubt that you could walk into that ballroom and make every person fall in love with you. That is easy.” She looked over her shoulder, back towards the road where thieves waited in trees to rob passersby. “To run now would mean going into the unknown and finding a path not yet paved. It would mean finding love rather than taking it.”

“And what would you do? If I decided to go?”

Amelia gave her a knowing smirk. The same one she gave Ciana just before strutting up to Prince Aven. “I’m rather bored of these courtly men. They seem to lack the same sense of adventure as say…a band of merry men who dare to rob from the rich.”

Ciana exhaled in relief. “What about your mother?”

“Our mother will do fine. She’s come this far. Besides, Sofia will take care of her.”

They only had moments before the enchantment on the field mice broke. With a sharp kick, Ciana and Amelia raced back to the road. Once again, people flung themselves out of the horses’ path, shouting curses at the two of them as they flew by.

Ciana’s heart pound against her ribs, desperately hoping the thief would still be there. Fate had given her the chance and she only wished that she hadn’t lost it. As the magic faded, the horses slowed until they were once again field mice scurrying away into the grass.

“I never expected an enchantress to join us.”

The thief and his men appeared from the trees, as if they were shadows coming to life. His smile was brighter than ever before, eyes alight at the sight of her. She returned the smile, her heart finally feeling at peace with her decision.

“I think you’ve kept me waiting long enough,” she said, stepping close to him. She felt his breath on her lips as she whispered, “What’s your name?”

“Robin,” he answered, drawing back the hood of his cloak.