Free A Grimm Curse: A Grimm Tales Novella (Volume 3) by Janna Jennings, Erica Crouch

scales, the crowd they had passed on the road was filing into the room. They began to drift toward the small stage, sensing something was about to begin. As Cynthia glanced at the growing throng, Coriander’s face caught her attention. She was still next to her mother, unobtrusive, but the look in her eyes as she caught Cynthia’s sent a jolt of panic down her spine.
    She was up to something.
    Cynthia cursed herself for not anticipating this. She’d let down her guard knowing Coriander had been depressed and reticent since the hair-dying incident. Of course her stepsister would be furious she was playing in her place. She wouldn’t care that it hadn’t been Cynthia’s fault or her idea. Coriander would have gone to any length to
e
nsure this concert would end in disaster.
    Sweat collected in the lines of Cynthia’s palms. She flipped open her music folder. Instead of Shubert’s Fantasie that she had carefully placed in it this morning, there was a single sheet of music— Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star . A handwritten note in the corner read: This should be about your speed .
    A block of ice formed in Cynthia’s stomach and her fingertips began to tingle.
    From high above them, as if from a loudspeaker, a voice rang in the lofted space, “Their majesties Queen Gisela and King Ferdinand, crown prince Wilhelm and Princess Snowdrop.”
    Ridiculous name , Cynthia thought, despite her anxiety. The crowd was parting and the royal family was parading straight for her. Cynthia moved to stand and curtsy as well, but didn’t get very far. The back of her skirt didn’t seem to want to leave the bench. She craned her neck around to see if she could see the problem and lightly touch
ed
the piano bench with her hand. It came away tacky.
    The tingling in her fingertips traveled through her hands and crawled her up arms. She felt light headed and dark spots
crowded
the edges of her vision. She forced air into her lungs and tried to steady herself. She would not pass out. She would get through this then hide pig manure in Coriander’s mattress. She’d write Enchantment magazine with an anonymous exclusive of her stepsister’s curse and hairy transformation. She’d take a knife to Coriander’s Ferragamo heels…
    Her anger gave Cynthia something to focus on and her head cleared. The tall, elegant figures of the royal family in their opulent attire and aloof expressions were only yards from her. The rest
of the
crowded ballroom dipped their heads and bowed while Cynthia sat there. Portia, in the middle of a deep curtsy gave her a puzzled look. She tried to stand again, only to hear stiches popping at the waist of her dress. She had no idea what Coriander had put on that bench or how she had got it there—she wouldn’t put it past her to bribe someone in the palace—but she was stuck fast. 
    “Cynthia?” Remi whispered.
    Cynthia turned to stone on the bench and stared at her lap, her face burning with shame, wishing she could turn invisible and hoping no one would pay her any mind.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the royal family pause at the edge of the platform and turn to the crowd. Cynthia thought she saw one raised eyebrow from the queen in her direction, but no one else seemed to notice. That is until her stepmother straightened from her own curtsy. Lady Wellington saw Cynthia sitting like a lump on the piano bench and her face turned the color of a boiled turnip.
    The king raised his hands and beamed at the gathering. He was a short, jovial man. He was the queen’s second husband, Wilhelm’s stepfather. Queen Gisela remarried after her husband’s death to form an alliance with a neighboring kingdom. She retained her status as ruler—and Wilhelm’s of crown prince. King Ferdinand had brought his five-year-old daughter Snowdrop with him, now a girl only a few years younger than Cynthia.
    Cynthia’s father had often spoken highly of King Ferdinand. She had always thought the friendly, personable king