The Princess and the Keeper

By Alice Whiteharte

Cinderella, like never before. . .

Adira lost everything

• Language: English
• Publisher: YA
• Release date: Feb 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9781738219209

Book preview

There you are! It’s almost time for afternoon tea, you lazy girl. Mr. Wallaby tsked at me.

I’m sorry, I replied lamely.

He shook his head before going back to mixing batter. I desperately missed our old cook, Mrs. Coffer. She’d been with us four years after Papa’s passing until Stepmother let her go. She said we could no longer afford her, but I knew the real reason - Mrs. Coffer was one of the only people left who would stand up for me against my adopted family. Mr. Wallaby couldn’t care less how I was treated.

Further cementing my theory, my stepmother engaged Wallaby shortly after Mrs. Coffer’s departure. Someone who would work for ‘less pay,’ I’d been told.

Perhaps his poor attitude is the reason he can’t find work. After two years, he was still an unpleasant man. Well, at least to me.

I started preparing the cups, saucers, and plates for cookies and sandwiches. I wasn’t allowed to make any of the food, but I was the one who had to deliver it and wait until everyone was done. I never ate with the family anymore, having to take my meals in the kitchen with only Wallaby for company. I’d learned to finish my meals quickly.

Lady Winchester gave me a message for you. My hands froze midair at Wallaby’s words.

What did she say? I tried not to sound as nervous as I felt.

You are to take tea to the sitting room for today.

I frowned. The sitting room? But the girls have music lessons today, don’t they?

He shrugged. I was only told to deliver the message to you. Since my Lady couldn’t find you earlier.

Couldn’t find me? She always knew where to find me. If I wasn’t doing my chores, I was in my room. I was only permitted to leave the house or the grounds on Saturdays when I went to town to do the weekly shopping.

Thank you, I said anyway. I will take the tea whenever you are ready.

I’m done. Plate this and go.

Hands full of food and drink, I left, hearing Wallaby mutter his pleasure about having no music lessons today. It would have made me smile if I hadn’t been so anxious. As pretty as my stepsisters were, neither could hold a tune to save their life. Taking the stairs extra carefully, I headed left to the sitting room instead of my usual right to the music room, stopping in front of the hall mirror to make sure I was presentable. Like most women, my golden hair wasn’t very long, but the shoulder-length style suited me. My eyes were a bright, light blue, framed with long dark lashes. Between them, I had a little button nose and full, pink lips. My skin was pale, and I was thin, more so than I should have been for my five-foot-six height.

But I was washed with a clean dress. Good enough. Knocking on the door with my foot, I heard Stepmother’s voice call out to enter.

Tea, Madam. I cast my eyes down as I entered, careful not to drop anything. Stepmother sat on the sofa with her ankles crossed. I never looked her in the eye unless she commanded me to.

You’re late, she said.

Apologies, Madam. It won’t happen again.

I set the trays on the low table, omitted my curtsey, and turned to leave when her voice stopped me.

Adira?

Yes, Stepmother? I slowly spun around to face her again.

Come here. Have tea with me today.

My head snapped up, our gazes meeting. I must have misheard her … But no, there she sat, her hand held out toward the opposite chair in invitation. Was I asleep? This had to be a dream because she had never invited me to have tea with her in the last six years.

Are you just going to stand there, child? Sit. Her tone was more familiar now, leaving no room for argument. My legs carried me to the large plush chair. She pushed a cup toward me and then dropped two sugar cubes into hers.

I sat perfectly still, waiting. My stepmother looked different today, wearing one of her finest dresses of deep purple. Her graying hair was bound up, and her best necklace of gold dangled from her thin neck. Her long fingers were adorned with rings, and her ruby brooch was pinned to her chest. Belatedly, I started to panic; was she expecting guests? I hadn’t cleaned the dining room yet! Or polished the silver, or dusted or…

You look unwell, Adira.

Her words brought me back to myself.

Oh, no, Madam. I was just wondering … Are we having dinner company tonight? I gestured to her and all her finery.

Not tonight, she replied.

She paused, but an ear-piercing scream broke that silence. Of course, I jumped to my feet, but Stepmother merely sighed. Not five seconds later, the door burst open, and my stepsisters flew in.

Hannah’s red hair was a complete mess, whereas Darnella’s dress was soaked, the bottom covered in mud. Her long black hair had come undone. It hung around her shoulders, the curls loose and wavy. Both of their dark eyes landed on me.

You! Darnella pointed a finger at me. How many times?!

Excuse me? I glanced at my stepmother, who did nothing but sip her tea.

"How many times have I told you to fix that damn bridge!" Her daughter shrieked at me.

Across the grounds and past the apple orchard, there was a small wooden bridge older than I was. It led to the road into town. It was undeniably in need of repair. A job I was suitably unqualified for.

I don’t know how to fix the bridge, as I’ve said before, I stated quietly. And I don’t believe we have the tools here.

Mother! Look! Just look at what she did to my dress!

And my hair! Hannah complained.

They couldn’t be serious. They acted as if I had pushed them off the bridge myself!

Darnella, go and change. Take the dress to the laundry room. Then take a bath, both of you. I need to speak to Adira. Alone. Stepmother dismissed them, leaving them standing with their mouths hanging open.

But mother!

It does not become a young lady to argue with her elders. Now, go.

Quietly, they did as she asked, their expressions laced with outrage and confusion. I sat in the chair, trying to keep the surprise off my face. Had she just inadvertently stuck up for me?

You seem tense, child.

I’m sorry… My reply was hesitant. I was still in shock.

You’re not drinking.

Mechanically, I lifted the cup to my lips, barely tasting the liquid. I gave her what I hoped was a believable smile, but it felt more like a stiff grimace.

No doubt you’re wondering why I called you here today.

It … crossed my mind, I replied carefully.

I have good news.

The last time I heard those words was the day Papa told me he was getting married and I was to have two new sisters. Look how that turned out! Drawing on all my years of practiced patience, I sat straighter, the picture of intrigue.

Good news, Stepmother? For me?

You will have heard of the trouble in the kingdom recently, she said.

I had. It was all anyone talked about these past six months. Keepers were wielding their Magik viciously, forming a small army. The rumor mill in town kept me apprised of developments, but the big question on everyone’s mind was why? There was no obvious motivation.

What does that have to do with me? I asked.

Fortunately, it has everything to do with you. She beamed, and a new feeling of unease settled over me.

How?

She took another sip and regarded me coolly as if we were discussing the weather or the latest fashions. As if that would ever happen.

"The King and I have been negotiating. He needs to raise an army to counter these rogue Keepers. A bigger army since the Keepers have a very unfair advantage with their Magik. She spat the last word. And he’s lost so many men already."

I’m sorry to hear that. My muscles ached from sitting so still, wishing she would get to the point.

Yes, yes, it’s terrible. She waved her hand dismissively, But to get the men he requires, the King needs more money. I have graciously offered.

The cup shook in my hands.

But I’m only sixteen. My father’s will says…

I know. The law is the law. She grinned wickedly. That is why you are going to marry Prince Rialóir. As his wife, your money will also be his, whether you are of age or not.

The cup dropped from my hand altogether, its contents spilling over the rug and probably staining it. I stared at her, unable to process her words. They came back to me one by one, though, and clicked into place. I stood abruptly, trying to bring air into my lungs.

Marry the prince? The prince who was known to be spoiled, ill-tempered, and constantly tried to instigate wars? The man couldn’t be trusted and wasn’t popular with the people. Many wished never to see him ascend to King.

I can’t! I can’t get married! I am not old enough! My voice was hoarse rather than the firm rejection I’d intended.

Silence! Her words echoed through the room. "You are old enough to marry with a parent or guardian’s permission."

If I marry the prince, how does that help the King? I tried desperately to find a way out of this.

"Your wealth will be at the crown’s disposal. Prince Rialóir wants to go to war. He has already consented to this union."

My only hope was to plead, no, to beg. Folding my hands in front of me, I implored her. "Stepmother, please! Please don’t make me do this!"

Hold your tongue! she hissed. Do you not know how lucky you are? Do you know how many girls would kill to marry that man? I always knew you were ungrateful, but this is deplorable, Adira!

Anger rose in me. How could she do this? To trade me off like a heifer at the market to the highest bidder - and my actions were deplorable?! How many girls did she think were vying for his hand in marriage? Her own daughters despised him!

What do you get out of it? I snapped, unable to curb my ire.

Any other day, I would have gotten a smack to the cheek, or worse, if I’d spoken to her this way. Today, she ignored it, a smug look on her face.

As is proper, I am to accompany you to the castle. I will live there with you, with Hannah and Darnella, of course, as your legal guardian. The King has promised to find them husbands of good standing. So, she was doing it for status.

"And, she continued, as a sincere show of gratitude from the King, I am afforded half of your father’s wealth. He assures me he will have more than enough without it."

Status and money. How greedy could any one person be? She had me, and she knew it. After so many years of trying to get her hands on my wealth and being unable to, she finally figured out a way. My entire body trembled, fighting the realization that I was utterly and truly lost.

It was left to me, I argued. Not you.

That seemed to finally get a rise from her. Standing, she abandoned her cheerful façade, replacing it with utter contempt.

"What makes you think you deserve it? After all, if it hadn’t been for you, your father would still be here!"

Tears welled in my eyes, making the room blurry.

"You will have more than enough after you marry the Prince. And you will marry him! If you dare try to disobey me, she grabbed my wrist hard enough to leave bruises, yanking me closer, I will make sure you wish you’d never been born. Now, get out of my sight! We are leaving for the Palace tomorrow."

Flinging me away, I barely caught myself from tripping. Not bothering to curtsey, I fled the room.

I can’t marry him. I won’t marry him!

But I would. She had ruled my life for six years, taking away all my choices. Forcing me to clean, to serve her and her awful daughters. I’d taken it all in stride, knowing someday I could leave, and she wouldn’t be able to stop me. The only way I got through the days was by dreaming of a better life. Now that was gone, too. Finding my way to my room, I threw myself on the bed and gave way to a storm of pitiful sobs.

The carriage trudged along at an uneven pace. The craters in the dirt road were so bad at times my head brushed the roof.

Darnella sat beside me, her face green. Hannah sat across from her beside Stepmother, who occasionally banged her