Red Hood's Revenge

her limbs were like sticks. She looked no more than five years old, though Danielle knew she should have celebrated her seventh birthday two months earlier.
    Danielle slipped a hand beneath her cloak, touching the hilt of her sword. The weapon was glass, the hilt inlaid with hazelwood. This weapon was the last gift she had received from her mother’s spirit. Like her slippers, the glass was all but unbreakable, and the hilt fit Danielle’s hand as if cast to her flesh. The touch of that gift helped to ease Danielle’s anger, and she even managed a smile as she greeted Lang Miller. She crouched before the girl, and this time her smile was genuine. “Hello again, Heather.”
    Heather ducked her head, hiding behind tangled hair. “Hello.”
    From a pocket of her gown, Danielle pulled a small, paper-wrapped pastry. She peeled back the paper, revealing a honey- glazed cake made with figs and almond milk. “I saved this from dinner. Prince Jakob likes them, and I thought you might too.”
    Heather pounced, snatching the cake from Danielle’s hand. Lang cleared his throat, and Heather froze.
    “My apologies, Your Highness,” said Lang. “We’ve gone too long without proper meals, and I’m afraid my daughter’s manners—”
    “I understand.” Danielle nodded to Heather, who needed no further encouragement to stuff the cake into her mouth as though she feared someone would try to steal it. “She looks like she’s not had a proper meal in months.”
    “Her powers take a great deal out of her, I’m afraid.” Lang rubbed a dirty hand through Heather’s hair.
    “Given those powers, I have to ask why . . .” Danielle gestured at their ragged appearance.
    Lang chuckled. “Forgive my boldness, but you were once a commoner yourself, were you not? Locked away in the attic to serve your stepsisters and stepmother. Your father was doubtless a good man, but he couldn’t shield you from—”
    “Your point, Master Miller?” Danielle hadn’t meant to speak quite so sharply. Talia glanced back, eyes narrowed in warning.
    “I can’t protect her from such people,” Lang said. “Nor can I buy her safety. For a poor miller to start flashing gold about would be a siren song to every thief and kidnapper in Lorindar. I’m a simple man, Your Highness. All I want is for my girl to be safe and happy. I can’t give her that, but you could.”
    “You have my word I will do everything in my power to protect her.” Danielle forced a lighter tone. “Heather will be well cared for.”
    “So we have a deal?” asked Lang. Behind him, Heather’s tongue darted out to lick the last few crumbs from her lips. She stared up at Danielle, brown eyes wide.
    Danielle grabbed a handful of straw and squeezed, feeling the stalks crunch and break in her hands. “The first night I suspected trickery. The second, I began to believe.” She gestured to Snow and Talia. “My servants have inspected every corner of this room. If your child can work her magic a third time, then we have an agreement.”
    “You hear that, Heather?” Lang knelt and squeezed the girl’s shoulders. “Spin straw into gold again tonight, and you’ll never go hungry again. Princess Cinderella here will take care of you, and when you’re old enough, you’ll marry her son, Prince Jakob. You’ll grow up to be Queen of Lorindar!”
    Heather’s expression didn’t change. Her gaze was empty, almost bored. Either she didn’t understand or else she didn’t care. She sucked her fingers and trudged toward the spinning wheel.
    “We’ll hold a public betrothal tomorrow,” Danielle said. “When Jakob reaches thirteen years of age, they shall be wed.”
    “Thank you, Your Highness.” Lang took Heather by the hand and whispered into her ear, then backed away. “Come morning, my darling girl will have filled this room with gold. Lorindar will soon be the richest nation in the Arantine Ocean.”
    Danielle said nothing as she led Lang and the others from the storeroom. Talia pulled the door shut behind them, leaving Heather to her work.
    “Snow will find you a place to sleep,” Danielle said.
    “Thank you.” Lang rubbed his throat. “I don’t suppose I could trouble one of you ladies for something to drink? All that straw and dust is murderous harsh on the throat.”
    “Of course.” Danielle was still watching Snow, whose brow was slightly furrowed.
    Snow studied the storeroom, almost as if she could see through the wooden walls. Slowly, she smiled.