Cinderella's Secret Witch Diaries Box Set: Lost, Stolen, Found

February-1

February

February 10

Dear Fairy Godmother,

I have been very sick. Truth be told, I did not think I was going to live. A strong fever and cough weakened and sickened me, as well as many in the castle. I lay in bed, day after day, with a high fever, unable to get up, and feeling so tired and delirious. I wanted to write to you but could not as I was too weak. Perhaps a week ago Clarissa came to wake me, for I did not get up in the morning. I could tell from the worried look on her face that she was upset. I felt trapped in my own body, but could not gather the strength to rise out of bed.

She felt my forehead and then covered me. Yet the cold would not leave my bones no matter how many covers she placed me under. Clarissa, my dear, dear friend, called the king’s doctor, who came to examine me. He let out some of my blood to remove the sickness, and told me to stay in bed and rest.

For seven long days, I stayed in bed, sick and feverish. Time passed oddly as I lost track of the days and drifted in and out of sleep. One day I had a surge of energy that focused my faculties so much so that a sense of clarity came over me. Fearing that I would die, I devised a plan to give Clarissa my diaries in order that the prince never read them. In a fit of stubbornness, I tried to rise out of bed and tell Clarissa that I had to give her my diaries and that I needed her help to keep them secret from the prince and his mother.

Poor Clarissa! I can only imagine what she thought of me in my deranged state. I have not had a chance to talk to her since that time, as she has been busy taking care of others who are sick. Two of the more elderly servants have died from this dreaded sickness, and many others have fallen ill. I have only been up and about for a day now, and I still find it difficult to walk. I must take my time and am trying to build up my strength.

The prince came to see me several times, and he did stay with me for a long while. He was kind and sweet. The one day he sat by my bed for hours, not saying anything as I moaned in my feverish state, but it was encouraging to see him sitting there. He had several large maps on his lap and it looked like he was studying them.

Later that day I heard him ask for more logs to be put on the fire and he asked for hot tea to be brought to me. I tried to drink it, but could not lift the cup to my lips. He sat next to me, held the cup, and I drank a few sips at a time.

“Thank you for your help.” I lay back on my pillow and rested. The room appeared larger to me, and I had a difficult time concentrating, as every item swayed to a strange motion that I could not control.

“You took care of me when I had injured myself and did not complain or admonish me for my antics.” He sat back in his chair, putting the cup of tea on a tray.

“Do you remember how happy we were when we first met?” I believe the fever caused me to speak more openly.

“I recall how magical you were with your dress, the glass slippers, and your charming smile.” He rubbed the beard on his chin.

“Are you not happy with me?” I turned to face him directly. “Have I disappointed you in some way?”

He turned from me and picked up his cup of tea, lingering on the sip as he gathered his thoughts. “Must we speak of this now?”

“I would like to know …”

He interrupted me before I could finish and said, “The doctor informed me that you are in a delicate state and that your rest is paramount.”

“Of course.” I remained silent and closed my eyes, trying to hold back my tears.

He did not say anything else, and after a few minutes of my silent crying, he stood up and left the room without a word. A part of me had warmed to him, for his actions were kind and thoughtful, but thoughts of deeper motive rose to the surface of my mind, and I wondered if guilt caused him to care for me.

Now, days later, I have had much time to think while recuperating, and I have come to a decision. I had thought about withholding my opinion, even from myself, as possibly the effects of the fever still hold sway over me, but I know that is not the case. Freely I will say that I dislike the prince at times and think he can be an insensitive man.

He and I met when I was sixteen years of age and my knowledge of the world was remote and naïve. Yet at twenty, am I truly much more informed? I think not. Rather, I realize a truth that I had not wanted to speak before: I wanted to escape my life under my stepmother. The prince needed a woman at his side for appearances and to have his children. I have performed my role extremely well as a princess, learning all that was necessary to fulfill my duties. I have been dignified and graceful, supporting the king and queen, showing that I am worthy of my status. Now I question what my future in this family will be. I wonder if I will be forever trapped in my fear.

My hand tires from writing so much. Perhaps I should go and have some dinner. Wherever you are, Fairy Godmother, I wish you well.

February 11

Clarissa came to visit me this morning, and our talk turned toward my future. We wandered off to a quiet part of the castle and sat by a fire talking. Clarissa looked at the condition of my dress and shook her head. “Your clothes are in such disrepair. What would you do without a friend like me?”

I smiled, and for the first time in days felt more myself with my returned strength. Staring at the fire for a few moments, I asked, “Would it not be wonderful if we could travel the world together?”

“Of course it would. What is your plan?” Clarissa sat down in her chair and leaned toward the fire.

“I have no plan. I am just dreaming. The prince continues to ignore me, although I have tried to talk with him, but I suspect he simply wishes to live his life as he may and keep me as his public wife. I am not happy with my life and would enjoy traveling to experience art, music, and …”

“Love!” Clarissa interrupted me and laughed. “You would not be the first wife to have her own understandings with a gentleman.”

“I would rather not. I weary of the challenges of love.”

Clarissa kept quiet and then replied, “I wish I had such a problem.”

“You will find your gentleman soon enough.”

Clarissa stood up and walked over to the fire. “I worry about you. You are still so young and yet your joy is so slight of late.”

“I hardly see the prince any longer, and the times we do spend together are more for his duty to produce an heir.” I fiddled with a bow on my dress. “My standing with him is clear, and I cannot change his mind.”

Our conversation shifted to talk of the upcoming ball, and yet as I write this the question keeps coming back to me. How could I travel, and where would I go? I cannot simply walk out the castle gates. My knowledge of politics and the world of men is limited, yet even I have heard the rumors of conflict in Europe. I have tried to solve this riddle but cannot. When I look upon the playing field, I see that the main power is the queen. She has left me enough alone these long days as I recover from my sickness, but I suspect that she will call me for a visit soon.

What would you have me do, Fairy Godmother? Weeks have passed since I have last heard from you. What should I do?

February 12

It is early, and the snow still falls outside as I write this, but I am wrapped up nicely in some warm covers, glancing from time to time at the world of white. The snow began yesterday afternoon, and I watched as it fell, heavy and near silent. Though later the wind did pick up and snow blew all around. After dinner yesterday, Clarissa and I snuck outside to walk around the palace gardens. The trees and the trimmed bushes were blanketed in the soft fluffy whiteness. We did not go very far, as we were both cold, but I did make time to talk with Clarissa and properly thank her being such a good friend.

She and I walked arm in arm through the snow, and we were both amazed at how beautiful everything looked. A fresh blanket of white covered the palace grounds, making the world quiet and new. We walked in silence and returned to the castle to have some tea with bread and butter. We were alone, warm, and safe. I looked at my best friend and asked, “Are you happy?”

She laughed and sipped her tea. “I suspect that your question is more than ‘Am I happy with my tea and biscuit?’”

“You know me well.” I leaned back and took a sip of the warm tea. It brought courage to my weary body. “If you were not my lady-in-waiting, what would you want to do with your life?”

She thought for a moment, scratching her nose. “I would travel to lands beyond this castle and its familiar walls.” She brushed crumbs off of her dress and pointed outside. “I have never been too far but I have heard such amazing stories. Instead, I sit here like a farm animal, waiting for my father to sell me off to the highest bidder.”

A pained look crossed her face. “I am older now and my father worries that I will not make a good match as I am strong willed and difficult. He tolerates my behavior but for how much longer? I fear …” She let her words trail off and she looked away.

I waited to see if she would continue but she did not. “You are still young and I daresay that you are more beautiful than me. A man who finds you will be lucky to have such a pretty and independent-thinking wife.”

“Thank you for your kind words.” She smiled and drank more tea.

I gathered my courage and chanced to speak the truth. “I want to tell you that I am not happy here.” I forced myself to continue. “I have made a decision to travel, but I am still not certain if I am courageous enough to find a way to make my wish come true.”

I did not know what else to say, but then had an idea came to me. We both felt trapped in our situations, but that would not last forever. My idea rolled off my tongue and said, “I want you to come to France with me.”

Clarissa’s face lit up with wondrous excitement and she asked so many questions that I could not keep up with her.

If I could convince the prince to go to France in the spring, then I would need my lady-in-waiting to help me. Such a trip would be difficult but not impossible, as we were not that far from the Channel. We could ride by carriage, hire a boat, and then head to France. Yet once there, I did not know how long it would take by carriage to get to the capital. I suspected that all could be arranged. I would have to figure the details out. A carriage to Dover would take a day, but I had heard the stories of the rough Channel waters and how sometimes travelers would have to wait several days for calm waters. But would Calais to Paris consist of another day’s travel by carriage? I did not know the geography exactly, but I knew I need not solve all the details at once. What mattered was that I had an idea.

Clarissa and I talked for a good while about our plans for the spring, and it was very enjoyable. I was happy to see her smile again and for her to have some hope that all was not lost. The two of us would work together and make my plan come to life. How to get the prince to agree might be difficult. We would have to see.

I must end my writing here. I am not ashamed to write this but I need my rest and am lying down to sleep some more. Bonne nuit! (See, already I am practicing my French.)

Dear Cinderella,

You have begun to free your mind and see the possibilities that can be if you allow them to grow and bear fruit. If you wonder how to convince your prince to go to Paris, ask yourself this: Who must he listen to and what does she want above all else?

I am proud of you and see you have made much progress. Soon we will be together.

Yours,