By the time they reached the nearest town, it was late. Countless stars had emerged to pepper a cloudless night sky. Fenix hopped down from the carriage with ease, unhitched the horses, and left them in the care of a pimply young stable boy. Like a gentleman, he offered to help the ladies from the carriage. Cinda alighted first, then Terra timidly showed him her crutches. Without a word, Fenix scooped her from her seat, planted her on her feet, and he didn't let go until the crutches were back in her hands.
Cinda was secretly impressed by how gentlemanly he was. He even held the door for them as they entered The Straw Dragon Inn, where they had chosen to stay for the night. He was certainly different from Rank. Cinda's skin was plastered in goose pimples when she tried to recall the madman's partially painted face.
“Are you ladies willing to share a bedroom?” Fenix asked as they approached a portly innkeeper.
“Of course,” Cinda responded first. “Although... perhaps I shouldn't speak for both of us?”
“It's fine,” Terra chimed in. Her eyes were pulled to the inn's loudly cracking fireplace, where a pair of orange kittens were embracing as they enjoyed the fire's warmth. The cats made the inn look homey—which was a relief after a tiresome day.
After Fenix booked rooms and claimed the necessary keys, they made their way to the inn's restaurant. It was Terra who demanded food. Her stomach had been gurgling ever since their encounter with the Bronze Belcher—which felt like ages ago.
“I'm so sorry, Mr. Kole!” Cinda apologized as they claimed a table. “You're using your own money to purchase rooms and food, and I feel terrible about it! As soon as we reach the Winter Palace, I'm sure Prince Sharman will compensate you.”
“No worries,” Fenix breezily replied as he pulled out a chair for Cinda, and then for Terra. “I'm happy to help. Besides, it's a rare honor to escort the prince's fiance across the country. I'm happy to do it.”
They were late arrivals at the restaurant. In fact, it was due to close in thirty minutes. Their waitress was smiling, but tired. She yawned three times as she scribbled down their orders.
“So, ladies...” Fenix's hands folded behind his head as he leaned back in his chair. “I'd like to learn more about you. Tell me something interesting.” He directed his next question to Cinda. “What's it like to be the prince's fiance?”
“What's it like? Hmm.” Cinda chewed her lip as she mulled it over. “I don't know. It's like... nothing.”
Fenix's eyes narrowed. “Nothing?”
“I mean... I can't really describe it because I barely know him,” Cinderella confessed. “We danced once and then he... proposed.”
“Prince Sharman proposed after one dance?” When Fenix grinned, he looked a bit wolfish. “You must have been an amazing dancer.”
“I'm not, actually. I can barely waltz without stumbling over my feet. However, despite my lack of coordination, I somehow managed to impress him.” Her story continued a moment later, after drinks were served. “The prince was looking for a wife. That's why he had the ball, but... to be honest, I didn't expect to have a fiance so quickly.”
“Do you like the prince?” Fenix asked as he raised his mug. When the swig of ale was down his throat, he added, “I always assumed he would be spoiled and obnoxious.”
“Sharman doesn't seem too bad,” Cinderella vouched for him.
Her stepsister quickly added, for Fenix's ears only, “He doesn't seem too good, either.”
“So... basically, you're marrying a man who barely knows you. That seems odd.” Fenix shared his unsolicited opinion as he took another sip from his mug.
“And I agree,” added Terra. “Their courtship could have lasted a bit longer. Call me a cynic, but I think the idea of love at first sight is a load of rubbish.”
Cinda defended her absent beau. “You're being too hard on Sharman! Both of you! If he says he cares about me, should I really doubt him?”
“No, but you should be cautious,” Terra went on. “Personally, I think he seems a little mad. What sort of man goes door-to-door looking for a foot to fit a shoe? It sounds like he was obsessed. He's a bit too smitten.”
Fenix requested more details. “What? He went door-to-door?”
“Indeed. After Cinderella danced with him, she lost her shoe. It was a lovely little glass slipper, specially made for my petite stepsister's tiny feet. Well, Sharman found the shoe. To find Cinderella, he had every woman in the kingdom try it on.”
“Wow.” Fenix's eyes were wide. “That's very dedicated of him.”
“True. But there's a fine line between dedication and madness. It's a--”
Cinda interrupted Terra's remark. “Guys! Stop saying terrible things about Prince Sharman! Personally, I was impressed that he went to such lengths to find me again! He could have sought out any other young lady, but he wanted me! It made me feel special.”
When Cinda's speech ended, their food was delivered. For the next few minutes, forks and spoons were clinking in an otherwise silent room.
It was Fenix who finally spoke again. “Terra?”
Her fork halted over her meatloaf. “Hmm?”
“What's your story?” he asked. “Tell me something about yourself.”
“Well, I'm sure you're curious about this.” Terra raised one of the crutches. “Everyone always is, so let me sate your curiosity early on. I was in a carriage accident when I was a little girl. It left me paralyzed from the waist down.”
The food in Fenix's mouth muffled his consoling words. “I'm sh-orry.”
“Don't be. I've gotten used to it, and I'm happy as I am,” Terra told him. “To be honest, this is the first time I've been out of my cottage in ages. Even though it's been difficult, I've enjoyed the ride. And it's good to get away from my mother.”
“You don't like your mum?” Fenix asked. In the corner of his eye, he could see Cinda sneering at the rubbery meat on her plate.
“Oh, my mum is awful. She insults me. She made Cinda her slave. She made her sweep the floors, clean our linens, and dump our chamber pots. She was evil, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
“Chamber pots, huh?” Fenix shook his head. “That's unpleasant.”
“I should let Cinda tell the story.” Terra smiled at her stepsister. “Is there anything you'd like to add to that?”
“No. Not really. You covered it all.” The soup in Cinda's spoon was too hot, so she let it hover above her bowl as she waited for it to cool. “Basically, my stepmother and stepsister made my life a living hell.”
“Terra made your life a living hell?”
“No. Gaia,” Cinda quickly corrected him. “I have another stepsister who... forgive my language... is a horrible bitch.”
Fenix chuckled at the description. “Ah. That makes sense.”
When the soup was down her throat, Cinda jabbed her empty spoon at Fenix. “What's your story, Fenix?” she asked. “You're asking a lot of questions, but you haven't said anything about yourself!”
“W-well... there's nothing to tell. Not really.” His gaze dropped to his lap. “Apart from the whole shapeshifting thing, my life's really boring.”
“I'm sure it's not,” Cinda objected. “You've been cursed, right. That sounds far from boring. What happened?”
“I, uh...” After a short pause, Fenix shoved the rest of his meatloaf into his mouth, along with a pile of mashed potato, and hopped to his feet. “I should really get going. I haven't slept in a long time and I'm tired. Goodnight, ladies. I'll see you tomorrow morning.”
As she watched him hurry away, Terra raised an eyebrow. “That was... odd.”
“I know, right?” Cinderella agreed. “He was acting very cagey! Do you think he has something to hide?”
“Oh, he obviously has something to hide!” Terra laughed. “But... he's been decent so far, so we probably shouldn't pry.”
Shortly after Fenix's exit, the ladies finished supper and retired to their bedroom. Mere minutes after rolling into bed, Terra fell asleep. She was so exhausted by the day's events, she passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Cinda, however, wasn't so lucky. For over an hour, she was denied a peaceful sleep. Her blanket was itchy and thin, and it was a poor defense against the room's persistent chill. As she shivered, her eyes scanned the dark, unfamiliar room. When she spotted a cockroach, she sat up with a gasp. “Oh god...” she whispered to herself. “There's nothing worse than that.”
Disgusted, Cinda slid out of bed, donned her tatty slippers, and tiptoed from the room. “This place is filthy,” she whispered the complaint as she pattered down the hall. “If only I had some soap and a bucket...”
The restaurant was closed, but the bar was open, so she decided to enter. “I hope this place isn't filled with riffraff,” Cinda whispered as she slipped inside the smoky room.
What she saw was worse than riffraff, and twice as shocking.
Fenix was sitting at the bar—with Rank.