Read Online My Fair Godmother by Janette Rallison - Free Book Online Page A

hauled in a never-ending supply of food for our guests. Roasted pig. Roasted lamb. Roasted swan. We also carried in breads, cheeses, pies, and a sugary gelatin-like statue that had been molded into the shape of a castle in their honor. The WSM had hired musicians to play and I tried to hear her orders over the music. She sat on the left-hand side of Prince Edmond, a fact that seemed to elevate her importance in her own eyes, and she gave orders with extra disdain thrown in.

    88/431
    Once while I walked past the table with a pitcher of mead, Prince Edmond held up his goblet and said,
    “Serving wench, my glass is empty.” When I didn’t move fast enough he snapped his fingers at me.
    Real charming. I filled his glass and he turned away from me without giving me any more notice.
    On his right side, Prince Hugh lifted his goblet to me as well. “Be quick about it, wench.” I bit my tongue and filled his glass too. Then I turned my gaze back to Edmond, who, for all of his impatience a moment before, hadn’t taken a drink yet. Really, I was so unimpressed.
    Hildegard walked up beside me. She had apparently come to talk to her mother, or to flirt with Prince Edmond, but since she was watching him and not me, she bumped into me as I turned to leave.
    The mead in my pitcher sloshed over the edges, spilling mostly on the floor but also splattering both of our dresses. As I steadied the pitcher, trying not to spill anything more, she reached out and slapped me.
    “Oaf!” she yelled. “Look what you’ve done to my dress!”
    The WSM turned to me, her gaze all spikes and dag-gers. “Ella, your clumsiness will not be tolerated.” The next moment she looked over at the prince and her voice 89/431
    smoothed over with honey. “I’m so sorry, your highness.
    Did any spill on you? I promise the girl will not go unpunished.”
    Edmond wiped at his embroidered tunic, though I doubt anything had splattered there. “Very good. I find that servants are like dogs. Left undisciplined, they become worthless.”
    The WSM turned back to me, her lips set in a tight smile. “Well, Ella, what do you have to say?” I knew she expected me to beg for lenience, to apolo-gize over and over again. But I’d had enough of these people, this life, and everything to do with it. “I am clumsy,” I said. “Constantly spilling things. In fact—oops!” I held out the pitcher and emptied its contents over my stepmother’s head.
    She gasped, sputtered, then shrieked as the mead flowed from her hair down her face, and then soaked her dress. A group of the knights at the next table over laughed uproariously at the sight of my WSM wiping strands of hair out of her face and jiggling in her seat, as though this would stop the liquid from running down her back. But the only sound from the royal table was Edmond, who said, with a tone between smugness and reproach, “Undisciplined and worthless.” 90/431
    I didn’t wait around to hear further critiques. I dropped the pitcher on the ground, hiked up my skirt, and ran. My WSM shouted, “Stop her! Stop her at once!” Neither Hildegard nor any of the servants did though.
    Whether out of fear of me or admiration, they stood openmouthed while I rushed by.
    I sped out of the manor, past the barn, and into the forest. I had nowhere to go and no way to live, but anger pushed me instead of fear.
    How, even for a moment, could a fairy think someone could wish for this sort of life? And why wasn’t she answering me when I called?
    I wasn’t exactly sure where fairies lived, but I had the vague idea that it was inside mushrooms. So I walked around stomping on every one I saw. When that didn’t do anything I kicked the trees. Since my boots had never been sturdy to begin with, this probably hurt my feet more than it hurt the trees.
    “You’re supposed to be granting me wishes!” I called.
    “You can’t just leave me here!” And then I heard Chrissy’s voice behind me. “You know, Cinderella is supposed