Cinders & Sparks 3-book Story Collection

‘You mean a wig?’ Cinders gestured towards their matching hairdos. ‘Um, I must have left mine in my carriage. Silly me.’

‘You’ve got chocolate cake on your face,’ the fourth girl said.

‘Saving it for later,’ Cinders muttered, swiping at her cheek with a napkin.

‘Maybe you should sit somewhere else,’ the fifth girl suggested.

‘Maybe I should,’ Cinders agreed, jumping to her feet and picking up her plate of desserts. ‘Have a lovely evening, everyone.’

Struggling to keep a smile on her face, Cinders trotted away from the table and looked for somewhere else to sit. Who wanted to spend the evening with such boring people anyway? If she wanted to sit around, not eat sweets and talk about fancy dresses all evening, she could stay home with her stepsisters. Plus, they all looked the same. Bo Peep and her sheep, she thought to herself.

After all that effort, the ball was a bust.

Even though she could see people dancing and eating, no one looked as if they were truly enjoying themselves. There was no laughter, no singing and the musicians were struggling to play in their tight, high collars and big, heavy wigs. At the furthest end of the ballroom, Cinders saw three thrones. Right in the middle, perched on the biggest throne, sat the king. He was a shortish, greyish, grumpy-looking man who was sulking in the middle of the biggest party his kingdom had seen in years. To his right was the queen. She was also shortish, greyish and grumpy-looking, which made her slightly skew-whiff powdered wig and ruffled rose-pink gown look really quite silly. The throne to the left of the king was empty.

‘Should have sat there,’ Cinders said, nibbling on some nougat. ‘I wonder where the prince is.’

Still holding her incredibly heavy plate, Cinders glanced around the room, looking for a place to sit. Just when she was about to give up and go home, she spotted a pair of legs disappearing under a table laden with salads and vegetables. Strangely enough, now that Bo Peep’s crowd had eaten, no one seemed to be too bothered about the salad station. Trying not to draw attention to herself, Cinders sidled over to the veggies and stuck her head underneath the heavy tablecloth.

A boy with a crown on his head and cake all over his face stared back at her.

‘Hello.’ Cinders put her plate on the floor and clambered under the table. No easy task in a ballgown. ‘Who are you hiding from?’

‘Everyone?’ the boy replied. ‘Hello, I’m Prince Joderick.’

Cinders held out her hand and, after a moment’s consideration, Prince Joderick shook it.

‘I’m Cinderella, but everyone calls me Cinders,’ she said.

‘Why?’ the prince asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Cinders replied. ‘Cinderella is a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?’

‘No one calls me Jodders,’ the prince said, furrowing his brow. ‘And Joderick Jorenson Picklebottom is much worse than Cinderella.’

‘Probably because you’re a prince and I most certainly am not a princess,’ she said. ‘Thank goodness.’

Prince Joderick looked surprised. ‘You don’t want to be a princess?’ he asked.

Cinders shook her head while shovelling a huge brownie into her mouth. ‘No, thank you very much,’ she said. ‘Not if I’d have to live like this. I thought this was going to be a fun party, but everyone looks so miserable. I’d much rather live in my pink cottage in the forest where I can run around in the woods or play with my dog. Although, I have to say, the puddings here are top-notch.’

The prince looked surprised, as if he wasn’t used to people telling him what they really thought, but he rather liked it.

‘I’m sorry,’ Cinders apologised. ‘I always say the wrong thing when I’m nervous.’

‘Don’t be sorry,’ the prince said. ‘And you shouldn’t be nervous – I’m the one who’s hiding under a table after all.’

‘Why are you hiding from everyone?’ Cinders asked. It did seem a little off when she thought about it.

‘My father threw this party so I could choose someone to marry,’ Joderick explained. Cinders almost choked on her chocolate cake. Aggy and Elly would be beside themselves. ‘But I’d much rather be riding my horse or playing video games or baking.’

‘Baking?’ Now he was talking.

‘I made those brownies.’ Prince Joderick nodded at Cinders’s plate. ‘I’m a pretty good baker, but my dad doesn’t like me to do it. He says that’s Cook’s job.’

Cinders considered this for a moment while she chewed another brownie. ‘Controversial thought, but have you ever considered telling your dad to hop it?’ she asked. ‘Because you really shouldn’t waste your time getting married when you could be in the kitchen knocking out another batch of these wonderful things.’

‘No one tells my father what to do,’ Joderick gasped. He marvelled at the brave girl in front of him, currently devouring her third brownie. ‘He’s the king.’

Cinders shrugged. ‘Seems to me you need to learn how to stand up for yourself,’ she said, thinking about her stepmother. It also seemed to her that she and Joderick had a lot in common. ‘You shouldn’t have to do things you don’t want to do.’

‘I think I will have to get married eventually,’ Joderick said. ‘Everyone does, don’t they?’

Cinders shook her head. ‘I don’t think it’s the law, but if you’re dead set on it I’ve got two sisters who would both love to marry you.’

The prince perked up a little. ‘Really? Are they anything like you?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Cinders replied sadly. ‘Not at all.’

For a while, the two new friends carried on eating their cakes in silence.

‘I’m going to have to go back out there in a moment,’ Joderick said, pushing away his empty plate and wiping his face on the sleeve of his jacket. ‘At midnight, I’m supposed to dance with the person I’ve chosen to marry.’

‘Midnight?’ Cinders sat up so quickly she bonked her head on the table above them. ‘It’s almost midnight?’

‘It is,’ he confirmed before adding shyly, ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to dance with me, Cinders?’

‘I’m very sorry, but I have to go.’ Cinders grabbed a couple of extra brownies and tucked them into the pockets of her dress – because all the best dresses have pockets – and scrambled out from underneath the table. ‘It was nice to meet you, Jodders!’

‘Cinders, wait!’ Joderick yelled as Cinders dashed away, only pausing to grab a handful of sausages as she went.

‘Cinders?’ A familiar voice echoed that of the prince.

Cinders froze. Smack bang in front of her were the two biggest powdered wigs and enormous pink gowns with the most ruffles she had seen all night.

Elly.

And Aggy.

‘Excusez-moi,’ Cinders said, putting on a pretend accent and covering her face with her hands. ‘’Ave you seen le prince? I believe ’e is looking for someone to – ’ow do you say? – wed.’

‘Someone to wed?’ Both girls turned away from their stepsister without a second glance and scuttled off to hunt for Prince Joderick.

Cinders breathed out a sigh. Then she bolted out of the ballroom, ran along the hallway and leaped all the way down the marble staircase to find Sparks the footman and her two horse-mice waiting with the crystal carriage. She jumped inside, face first, and her ballgown blew up over her head, displaying her bloomers to the entire kingdom.

‘Home, Sparks,’ she sighed from underneath her skirts as the palace clock began to chime. ‘And don’t spare the horses.’

‘There’s no way we can get home before midnight,’ Sparks replied. Cinders looked up to see his red hair slowly transforming into a pair of silly shaggy ears as the palace clock chimed again. ‘And will you just look at your so-called horses!’

Cinders stuck her head out of the carriage to see their thick braided tails change into long, pink mouse tails.

‘No one will help me if I don’t help myself,’ she whispered, squeezing her hands into fists. ‘I wish we were at home already.’

This time, the magic came quickly. The sparkles showered the coach and, for a moment, everything was a blur. The next thing Cinders knew, her bottom hit the ground with a bump. She was outside her cottage, wearing her rags, one glass slipper on her foot and the other nowhere to be seen. Sparks sat in front of her, happily chewing the sausages she’d grabbed on her way out of the palace. One of her former horse-mice squeaked angrily before running away under the front door of the house.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ she said, picking herself up and dusting herself down. ‘Everything’s back to normal.’

‘Not quite everything,’ Sparks said, still scoffing his sausages.

Cinders had turned two mice into horses, but only one had turned back into a mouse. The other stood in front of her, still very much a horse, but with shiny whiskers and a long pink tail.

‘Oh,’ Cinders said.

‘Squeak,’ replied the horse-mouse.

‘Maybe it isn’t quite midnight,’ Cinders suggested. ‘Maybe he’ll change back at the stroke of twelve.’

‘Or maybe it’s already five past,’ Sparks said, ‘and this is a bit of a magical hiccup.’

‘I should say.’ Cinders grabbed the horse-mouse’s reins and led him into the stable. ‘I’m sorry, Mouse. I promise I’ll find a way to fix you.’

Mouse squeaked happily, flicked his tail and curled up in the corner of the stable as best he could. At least he didn’t seem too upset about his predicament. Though he was trying to clean his whiskers with his hooves, which looked quite awkward.

‘Tell me everything,’ Sparks insisted, following Cinders back across the garden and into the cottage. ‘Was it marvellous? Magnificent? Everything you’ve ever dreamed?’

‘Actually, it was really boring,’ she told him. ‘Everyone was so prim and proper and no one was having fun. But I did meet the prince and he was okay.’

‘Who cares about the prince? I want to know about the food!’ Sparks said. ‘Those sausages were the best I’ve ever had.’

‘The food was easily the best part,’ Cinders admitted, hugging her mother’s shoe. ‘Still, it was rather a fine adventure. Wait, did you see my other shoe outside?’

‘I’ll go and have a look,’ Sparks offered, wagging his tail all the way out of the front door. ‘Sometimes your stepmother is right about you, Cinders. You don’t know how to look after your things.’

As the door slammed shut behind him, Cinders grabbed one of Aggy’s pink dresses from the laundry pile, wrapped a white towel on top of her head and began to twirl round the living room, singing to herself and holding her one remaining glass slipper high in the air.

‘How do you do? I am Cinders, Princess of the Pink Cottage, and I only wear dresses with more ruffles than sense,’ she announced to her reflection. ‘And, don’t you know, anyone who is anyone is covering their hair in talcum powder these days?’

While she was busy spinning round the room, she heard a commotion coming from outside the cottage.

‘Sparks! What are you doing out at this hour? Cinders was supposed to lock you up in the basement before she went to bed.’

It was her stepmother! And she was home far too early. That couldn’t possibly be a good thing.

‘The prince definitely said Cinders,’ Aggy said. ‘We heard him, Mama.’

‘The prince also refused to dance with anyone at the stroke of midnight so there’s quite clearly something wrong with him,’ Margery replied. ‘You must have misheard.’

‘The king seemed very angry,’ Elly added fretfully. ‘Do you think Prince Joderick will be in trouble?’

‘He’s in trouble with me,’ her mother replied. ‘Imagine sending everyone in the entire kingdom home early and without so much as a thank-you for coming. Frère Jacques came all the way from France! And for what? A couple of hours of dancing and a slice of sub-par cake? I don’t know, the prince has proven himself to be quite the spoiled young man.’

Inside, Cinders wriggled out of Aggy’s pink dress, threw the towel down on the floor and ran as fast as she could to her tiny little cupboard of a bedroom, clutching her mother’s glass slipper to her chest. The old wooden door stuck on its hinges, protesting with a loud creak as she tried her hardest to crack it open.

‘Now, now, Margery,’ Cinders’s father said as his keys jingle-jangled in the lock. ‘Prince Joderick is a fine young man. Imagine being presented with a room full of people you’ve never met and being told to pick one to live with for the rest of your life. That’s not how love works, my dear.’

‘Who’s talking about love?’ Margery retorted. ‘I’m talking about marriage.’

‘You old romantic,’ Cinders’s father chuckled. ‘Why don’t you make us some hot chocolate while I go and check on my alleged little gatecrasher? And, for the record, I thought the cake was marvellous.’

Beginning to panic, the gatecrasher in question pushed and pushed and PUSHED on the door, but it just wouldn’t budge.

‘I’m telling you, Mama,’ Aggy wailed, ‘the prince definitely said her name!’

‘Then I’ll be popping in to say goodnight to an empty bed,’ her father replied. ‘Don’t be so silly, Agnes.’

At that second, Cinders’s door flew open and she hurled herself under the covers just in time for her father to poke his head into her room.

‘There’s my little princess,’ he said softly, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. ‘I knew it. Thank goodness you weren’t there this evening. What an absolute palaver.

What a palaver indeed, Cinders thought as she rolled over with a smile on her face. Still holding her mother’s shoe, she fell fast asleep to dreams of brownies and horse-mice and a night full to the brim with adventure.

Back at the palace, Prince Joderick wasn’t having nearly as nice a night as Cinders.

‘It’s a disgrace!’ the king shouted, striding up and down the throne room.

‘A disgrace,’ agreed the queen.

‘You’ve made a mockery of the crown!’ the king bellowed.

‘A mockery,’ the queen echoed.

‘The whole kingdom must be wondering what is wrong with you!’ the king cried.

‘The whole kingdom,’ the queen sighed.

‘If I might interrupt for just a sec,’ Joderick interrupted. ‘The thing is I really didn’t want to dance with anyone at the ball. They all just seemed a bit …’ He paused and considered his mother’s pink ruffled gown and enormous white wig. ‘They weren’t for me.’

‘I really don’t care,’ the king replied. ‘If you don’t choose someone to marry by midsummer’s eve, you’ll have to marry the Princess of Fairyland and then where will we be?’

‘Where will we be?’ the queen repeated.

‘Hang on a minute.’ Joderick sat down slowly, scratching his head. ‘I’ll have to marry who?’

The king took to his throne and removed his crown, turning it round in his hands and inspecting the diamonds and rubies set within.

‘Long ago, we were at war with the fairies and there was no way we could win,’ he explained. ‘They have terrible powers, my son – what wicked little things they are. All claws and teeth and spindly legs, obsessed with cakes and shiny things, and always using magic against us. But your clever great-great-grandfather made a pact with the King of Fairyland to get rid of them once and for all.’

Joderick’s eyes opened wide. Since he was a boy, his nannies and mannies had told him stories of the fairies, but he just thought they were making them up. He’d never seen a fairy and truly believed they didn’t exist. In the stories he’d been told, fairies were tricksy, deceitful creatures. Legend said some of them could fly, some of them could disappear and some of them had even been known to eat people. It was enough to make him long for a bowl of Brussels sprouts.

‘Fairies are real?’ Joderick asked, swallowing a lump in his throat.

‘I’m afraid so,’ the king confirmed. ‘They agreed our lands could live in harmony provided the firstborn son of every king in this realm would marry a fairy of their choosing on midsummer’s eve. Once the pact was made, the fairies were forbidden to cross beyond the Dark Mountains and, after a while, everyone in our kingdom forgot they were there.’

‘But you’re not married to a fairy,’ Joderick pointed out. ‘And I’m fairly certain you’re the first son of the first son of the first son of your great-grandfather.’

‘Actually, I’m the first son of the first son of the second son,’ said the king. ‘My grandfather was a second son. His older brother married a fairy and was never seen again.’

Joderick scratched his head, frowning, trying to figure out the family tree.

‘Which is why you need to choose someone from this kingdom and you need to do it now,’ his father insisted. ‘There is a way out – as my own father discovered. If you’re already married before midsummer’s eve, then you don’t have to marry one of those tricksy fairies.’

‘Oh, can you imagine?’ The queen pressed her hand to her forehead. ‘What if one of them were to come and live in the palace? Or, even worse, you had to go and live in Fairyland?’

‘And that’s what would happen,’ the king confirmed as the queen began to sob. ‘As it did to my grandfather’s brother, and his uncle before him. You would have to leave the kingdom and never, ever come back. You’d spend the rest of your life in the dark, dangerous place beyond the mountains and, let me tell you, no amount of horse riding could prepare you for a thing like that. It might not sound like it but Fairyland is a fearsome place, my son, and I won’t let them take you away.’

Joderick straightened his crown with a gulp. ‘When you put it like that, I suppose we’d better find me someone to marry.’Clapping his hands together, the king leaped to his feet and two pages appeared instantly, carrying a very, very, very long scroll. And a laptop.

‘This is a list of every eligible person who attended the ball,’ explained the king, logging on to the computer. ‘I’ve got their names and addresses and, on the scroll there, a humorous caricature, which, I must admit, was my idea.’ He chuckled. ‘Some of these are very good. Those ears!’ He coughed. ‘Um. Anyway, my son, tell me. Who caught your eye this evening?’

The prince thought long and hard. He had met so many people that it was hard to remember them all. But there was one who had immediately sprung to mind.

‘I didn’t find out her last name,’ Joderick said slowly, ‘but I did meet a girl underneath the salad station.’

‘Oh, the scandal,’ the king gasped as the queen fainted.

‘Her name was Cinders,’ Joderick added, pulling a glass slipper out of his rather large pocket. ‘She left this behind when she disappeared. She was really funny and she liked my baking. I wouldn’t mind marrying her.’

‘I really don’t care!’ the king whooped, and he waved to the pages who immediately began scanning the scroll for a Cinders. ‘As long as you’re married by midsummer’s eve and she’s not a fairy, she’s all right by me.’

The prince looked on as his father scooped his mother up in his arms and began to dance her all round the throne room.

By this time tomorrow, Joderick would be engaged and the entire kingdom would rejoice.

So why wasn’t he feeling happier about the whole situation?

‘Joderick, my son.’ The king was exasperated. ‘Are you quite sure of the name?’

‘Cinders.’ Joderick nodded. ‘Short for Cinderella.’

The king, the prince, their royal guard, three dozen pages and a hundred and one soldiers had been searching the length and breadth of the kingdom for three long days, and so far they’d found nothing.

They were riding through a clearing, Joderick on a pony and his father on a magnificent charger. Beautiful sunlight dappled the forest floor, yet there was nothing sunny about the king’s expression.

‘But there isn’t a single person in the land called Cinders or Cinderella and, according to our records, there never has been,’ the king said with a sigh. ‘Every single baby born within my realm is required to be presented to the royal family and added to the register to stop any of those fanciful fairies from sneaking across our borders uninvited.’

The horses stopped, and the king swung himself down from the saddle, kicking at a tussock in frustration.

‘She definitely wasn’t a fairy,’ Joderick argued. ‘She didn’t have wings, sharp fangs or creepy claws. She was a real human girl.’

‘Then why haven’t we found her?’ the king said as his horse wandered off the track to drink at a stream. ‘And what kind of person loses a shoe? I’m starting to think you’re making this girl up. It’s almost as if you want to marry one of those terrible fairies.’

Through the trees, Joderick spotted a thin stream of smoke coming from a pink brick chimney.

He remembered what Cinders had said. ‘My pink cottage in the forest …’

‘This way!’ Joderick called, pulling his pony round and charging off through the trees. ‘I think I know where she is!’

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