Charm (A Cinderella reverse fairytale) (Reverse Fairytales Book 1) Read online




  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Table of Contents

  Chapter one - The funeral

  Chapter two – The makeover

  Chapter three – The lessons

  Chapter four – Cynder

  Chapter five – The Ball

  Chapter six – The men

  Chapter seven – The explosion

  Chapter eight – The aftermath

  Chapter nine – The first date

  Chapter ten - The interview

  Chapter eleven – The second and third dates

  Chapter twelve – The secret

  Chapter thirteen – Cynder again

  Chapter fourteen– Prince Luca

  Chapter fifteen – The choice

  Chapter sixteen – The wedding plans and the newspaper

  Chapter seventeen – The betrayal

  Chapter eighteen – Xavier

  Chapter nineteen – The proposal

  Chapter twenty – The elimination

  Chapter twenty-one – The truth

  Chapter twenty two – The royal visit

  Chapter twenty-three – The last date

  Chapter twenty four – A secret uncovered

  Chapter twenty-five – The shock of the truth

  Chapter twenty-six – Daniel

  Chapter twenty-seven – Before the wedding

  Chapter twenty-eight – The Wedding

  Chapter twenty-nine – Chaos

  Chapter thirty – After

  Lucky Charm

  Lucky Charm - Chapter one

  Acknowledgements

  Other books by J.A.Armitage

  Thanks for reading

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Funeral

  The sun shone brightly in a way it had no right to do. Not on a day like this. Today should have been a day for clouds, for rain, for anything but the promise of summer. A summer that Grace would never see. I realized that this was my first time on the royal balcony as I gazed out over the crowd, a sea of people swathed in black and united in grief. I could even hear them all the way up here. Wails of anguish and tears of sorrow over the untimely death of Her Royal Highness, Princess Grace.

  I had no such tears. It just wasn’t protocol. I had been schooled to stand, wave, present a face of stoic composure, not to show the desperate abyss inside me that the death of my elder sister had left.

  To my right, I could hear Elise sobbing quietly. She knew the protocol as well as I, and yet she was breaking it in the most public way possible. My younger sister was a favorite amongst the people as well as with our parents, and I knew that she would get away with it in a way I wouldn’t. Not anymore, at least.

  Someone somewhere played a somber tune on a brass instrument. It sounded a little like our national anthem, but slower somehow as if the trumpet itself couldn’t quite understand how a healthy twenty-one-year-old girl could suddenly drop dead for no apparent reason. When it happened two weeks ago, rumors abounded that it was poisoning. That somehow one of our enemies, someone from a neighboring country with a grudge, had infiltrated the kitchens and slipped something into her food. I’d even heard gossip that it might have been one of the Magi.

  When the doctors did the autopsy, they found it was much more mundane than that. An undiagnosed heart problem. She’d probably had it from birth. Not that it was much in the way of consolation. She was still dead. Thriving one minute, cold on the floor the next.

  She would have loved it up here, the adoring crowds, seeing how much she was loved. The royal balcony was only used for special occasions when the public would flock to the driveway below just to get a glimpse of us at weddings and coronations and, of course, funerals.

  In my whole life, I’d only ever been to one of those, and that was today. The next one was to have been Grace’s wedding in six months’ time, but, of course, that wasn’t going to happen now.

  I looked over at the crowd, all of them in black, united in grief. Even the Magi had worn the color of mourning, forgoing their usual purple attire as a mark of respect. Either that or no Magi had shown up. It was hard to tell.

  Yes, Grace would have been in her element up here. I just felt uncomfortable and itchy in the long black dress that had been chosen for me to wear.

  The noise gave me a headache, and if I didn’t get away from the people soon, I was going to burst into tears, protocol or not.

  Thankfully, when the sad tune had finished, my father, King Aaron, decided enough was enough, and we were finally allowed to head back through the large doors into the formal sitting room in the palace where we could grieve in peace.

  All I wanted to do was head to my room, throw myself on my bed, and cry for a week. And that was exactly what I was planning to do when my mother and father collared me.

  I watched as the servants and Elise left, so it was just the three of us in the large ornate sitting room usually reserved for formal meetings of state and times when we let the press into the palace. Today was not one of those days. The press had all been confined to a pen near the front doors and had to be content with filming us on the balcony. They would have to wait another day to let the public get another glimpse of this golden room with its high ceilings and crystal chandelier that threw rainbows around the room when the light was just right.

  My mother sat next to my father on one of the golden upholstered sofas. This was their usual position when they were interviewed by someone in the media. The view I had of them now, was the same one the public always saw. I took the chair opposite, the one that the carefully selected reporter usually took, and yet, despite our positioning, I felt that it was me in the spotlight.

  While I spoke to my mother frequently, an audience with my father was much rarer, and something told me that whatever it was they wanted, it wouldn’t be good. The solemn look on their faces confirmed my suspicions. Although, having buried their first child only today, perhaps I was being too hasty with my assumptions. Didn’t they have every right to look solemn?

  “We need to talk to you about the ball,” my mother began.

  She was sitting with a perfectly straight back with her hands in her lap, the way she had been taught and the way Grace would have done. Grace was the epitome of the word princess. I slouched.

  The ball my mother was referring to was really Grace’s coming out party. Or it had started that way. A way to officially introduce her role as princess of the people. After which, she was to take a more active role in the running of the country. As we were on the verge of war with more than one country, not to mention the problem in our own kingdom of Silverwood with the Magi wanting more power, it had been decided that she would also take a husba
nd. A hundred potential suitors had been invited—men who were dignitaries and lower princes in their own countries, and who would provide not only a political match for stability of the kingdom but also at some point in the future would provide an heir.

  “What about it?” I’d assumed it would be canceled. What was the point of having all those people come if there was no princess to choose between them?

  “It’s in two weeks. The catering has been ordered, and it’s too late to cancel.”

  I sighed. My mother had a way of telling me things without telling me anything at all. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice was telling me that somehow this had something to do with me, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I squirmed in a very unladylike manner in my chair.

  “I don’t see the problem. So what if we all have too much food for a while? We can give it out to the local homeless. It will improve our popularity among the people.” Our popularity among the people was at an all-time low thanks to problems between the Magi and non-Magi and all the protests that went with it. The Magi wanted a democracy with no royal family and to install one of their own as a president. The non-Magi, like ourselves, wanted things to stay as they were, fearful of having someone with Magical abilities in charge.

  My mother shifted in her chair, the first sign she was uncomfortable with the conversation. “The people are expecting a ball. They need to know that the future of Silverwood is in good hands, and your father and I aren’t getting any younger.”

  “The people will get over it.”

  “That’s just it, Charmaine. The people won’t just get over it.” It was my father’s turn to talk to me. For some reason, his words weighed more. I guess because he used them so rarely, only speaking when he absolutely had to. He was not a man to waste words, and used them as though they were worth the same as diamonds. “Our situation is a precarious one. Our nation is relatively young, and we do not have enough troops to withstand much in the way of battle. Our only defense is to form strong ties with one of our neighboring countries. We need a powerful ally to do what we cannot do alone.”

  I fiddled with the edge of a cushion next to me, a nervous habit of mine, wondering why they had chosen to speak to me about this. That little voice in my head already knew, but I was actively ignoring it, hoping that I’d somehow gotten the wrong end of the stick.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  My mother smiled. Her smile had a way of putting people at ease. I’d seen her use it countless times on nervous subjects. That’s what made her a good queen. She flicked her eyes towards my father who just nodded, and then she turned back to me. Reaching forward and taking my hand in hers, she spoke softly to me. Another trick of hers to keep me calm. I wondered briefly what exactly she would need to keep me calm about.

  You already know

  The little voice was persistent.

  “We cannot cancel the ball. Too much is at stake, and while it is unfortunate timing, it would be madness to stop it at this late stage. Your father and I have talked extensively about this, and we have decided that you are to take Grace’s place.”

  I opened my mouth in shock. We had only just begun the official mourning for Grace, and here they both were, asking me to take her place at some stupid party.

  “You mean to dance with the men?”

  “Not just dance with them. We need concrete ties. The country is in a period of great instability, and we need a leader to take our place when we are gone. We need you to choose a husband.”

  “Why do I need a husband for that? I could lead Silverwood with Elise.”

  “This isn’t a question about your leadership abilities, Charmaine. I have no doubt with a little schooling; you’ll grow to be a fine leader, but what then? The line has to continue after you. You will need to pick a husband. The people expect it. If we don’t go ahead with the ball, goodness only knows what will happen. By inviting all those men, it gives not only the princes from other countries a chance but also the men within our own kingdom. A wedding will have to go ahead, but it cannot without a bride. It’s already planned to go ahead in six months’ time. You are heir to the throne now, no matter how much you don’t want to be, and now the duty falls to you.”

  “No!” The tears that had been threatening to fall all day were now prickling at the corners of my eyes. I let them fall. “There must be some other way. What about Elise? Couldn’t she do it? She would do a better job than me! I won’t know what to do.”

  It was true. My younger sister had the poise and grace that seemed to have skipped a place when it came to me. With her stunning white blonde hair, two or three shades lighter than my own, and her darling face, she would make an excellent queen. Just like Grace had been, Elise was a natural at this whereas I had spent most of my childhood climbing trees in the palace gardens and actively avoiding any kind of royal engagement like the plague. It wasn’t that I didn’t like meeting people; it was just that I never quite knew what to say. Grace had always been able to converse on any topic thrown at her and remembered all those little details about people that made them like her so much. Elise was exactly the same.

  She could speak to a dignitary she had only met once, years previously, and inquire about his wife and children, remembering all of their names. I’d just stand there and say something inane such as “I like your socks.”

  It’s not that I was stupid. In fact, out of the three of us, I probably knew the most, thanks to hours spent pouring over books in the huge palace library, I just didn’t know people.

  “Elise is only seventeen. She is too young for this. You are nearly nineteen, and though we would have preferred you to have a few more years out of the limelight, unfortunately, we have to push ahead now.”

  I stopped playing with the cushion and started working on the hem of my dress instead, picking away at the seam, desperately trying to think of a way out of the mess I was in.

  “She will be eighteen in ten months. Why can’t we postpone it until then?”

  “Everyone is invited, the palace is ready. We cannot wait another ten months. With Grace gone, we need someone more than ever to take her place in the public eye—”

  “No one could ever take her place!” I was sobbing really hard now, the tears free falling down my face.

  I felt my mother’s soothing arm around me. A mother’s touch that could cure any ills, all except this one. My heart ached at the thought of taking Grace’s place. She had been so looking forward to the ball, in a way I could never do. She was born for it. I couldn’t hope to ever be as good as she was.

  “You’re right. No one will ever replace her in our hearts or in the hearts of the people, but someone must step up to her title, and you are the next in line. It is your duty.”

  “My duty to marry someone I don’t even know and couldn’t hope to love?”

  My father, who had been pretty silent all the way through, spoke up.

  “That’s not the case at all. The king of Pearlia has been wanting to marry his second son into our family for the past few years. If we didn’t care, we would have set up a match with him for Grace, but we wanted her to be happy and marry for love, just as we do you. That is why; we have invited a hundred men to the ball. A hundred chances for you to fall in love. After the ball, you will choose five of them to stay on. They will stay here while you court all of them and get to know them. When you are ready, you will be the one to make up your mind about whom you decide to marry. You will get to choose.”

  “Not really. What if I don’t like any of them?”

  It was my mother’s turn to talk again. She gently pulled my hem out of my hand and smoothed it down.

  “Charmaine, a hundred men is more than you’ve met in your lifetime. You are bound to like one of them and remember, at the end of the day, the final decision will be all yours.”

  It was true. I’d been woefully sheltered my whole life and the only men I’d met apart from a few passing dignitaries, were palace staff.

&n
bsp; In the end, I agreed to do it. Not that I had any choice in the matter, and took myself off to my bedroom. I needed the solitude, to be allowed to grieve in my own space without hundreds of thousands of eyes staring at me.

  My maid, Agatha was waiting by the bed for me, handkerchief in hand. I could see by her red puffy eyes that she had been crying too. Just like the rest of the staff, Agatha was wearing the requisite black, a color she’d be expected to stay in for the next two weeks. I barely recognized her out of her white and purple maid’s uniform. You see, just like the majority of the palace staff, she was a Magi—the name given to the magical people. It made sense to hire them because they got the job done much more quickly with only a flick of their wands. As there were so many of them, the palace had adopted the color purple as a trim for the staff uniforms of the Magi, although the uniforms themselves were either white or gold depending on the position. The maids and kitchen staff wore white with purple trim; the butlers and wait staff wore gold and purple. All the non-Magic staff wore the same but without the trim.

  She passed me the handkerchief and curtseyed. I could tell that she wanted to say something, but what was there to say? She was my personal maid and wouldn’t have had much contact with Grace, but I knew she thought very fondly of her. Everyone did.

  “Is there anything I can do Your Highness, or should I just let you be?”

  Agatha knew me very well. She knew I’d want to be alone.

  “You can take the night off Agatha. I can undress myself tonight.” It was against protocol. Her entire job was pretty much dressing and undressing me, but she didn’t argue. She curtseyed again and left me to my own misery.

  I sat down in front of my mirror and looked at my reflection. A sad girl looked back. She looked nothing like a princess. My sisters and I had all inherited our mother’s blonde hair, but where Grace’s had fallen in thick, honey-colored layers, and Elise had white-blonde poker straight hair, mine fell somewhere in the middle. A dirty blonde that nothing but the strongest hairspray and lots of pins could tame. I usually left it alone, preferring the wild, untamed look of it, but this morning a bevy of beauticians had teased it into something manageable, so I could look smart for my sister’s funeral.