Page 34 of The Cinderella Prince

Lady Vivien Woodcock’s private apartment above Neon Nights was a spacious place with plenty of rooms in different styles. If I needed any more proof that the queen had an expert taste and a sharp eye for design, this would have sufficed.

Wigless, Mama Viv had already painted her face in bright colors to match a vibrant New York City morning. She wore a red silk robe, and her natural, dark brown hairwas short and trapped flat under a tight hairnet. “Darling Cedric,” she greeted me when she opened the front door and revealed a brightly lit hallway with hardwood floors and art deco furniture. “Come in, come in.”

“Thanks for seeing me so early, Mama Viv,” I said. “I hope I’m not disturbing your morning.”

“Anything for my boys,” she said, shutting the front door behind me. “In here, darling.” She led the way down the hallway and into the second room on the left. It was her dressing room with a large dressing table and several mirrors, from a square one above the table to a standing mirror in the corner and one oval mirror mounted onto the wall. A fancy accordion screen separated the changing section from the sitting area. Mama Viv sat down in her big chair before the square mirror and the makeup table. She offered me coffee, which I didn’t want, then asked me what she could do for me.

Is everyone here so willing to simply do things for others?But I didn’t ask that. Instead, I committed that piece of information to my memory. I could be like them.

“That’s just it,” I said. “I was wondering if there’s anything I could do for you.”

Mama Viv methodically dabbed something on her face, although I saw no difference. It was probably what separated an amateur from a professional. I would have skipped the steps that had seemingly no results. “Ah, so you are no longer simply passing by?” she asked.

I lowered myself into a dark green chair with elaborate wooden legs and a tall, straight backrest, knees spread wide and arms hanging between them. “I hope to stick around.”

Mama Viv nodded once, firmly. “I’mglad to hear it, Cedric, darling.” She let the silence hang between us for a little while. “Things are going well, I take it.”

Aside from running out of cash, they definitely were. I didn’t get to say a word, though, because a smile stretched my lips, and Mama Viv looked at me just then, finding her answer painted clearly on my face.

She smiled in return, although not as broadly. I sensed some reservation, but the words that followed dispelled that. “I can offer you a job, darling. A proper one. You’re a hard worker and a quick learner. That’s what matters in our line of work. But I don’t see you staying in that place for long.”

I wanted to cut in and promise that I could do it for however long it was necessary.

“No, no, darling. Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s clear that we’re not cut from the same fabric, but that’s not a bad thing. You’re bright, you’re well-mannered, you have a promising future, whatever you choose,” Mama Viv assured me. “You’re hardly the first runaway I’ve taken in, and I never ask what it is that’s chasing you, my dear.”

Something tugged my heart down into my stomach.

“Let’s not pretend,” Mama Viv said gently. “You’re not who you say you are, but I am well experienced in wearing masks, darling. I won’t ask what’s underneath yours, so long as it doesn’t affect Tristan.”

My eyebrows shot up. “It won’t,” I hurried to say.

“Ah.” Mama Viv had gotten the confirmation she needed, and I had to admire how efficiently she had done this. With a matter-of-fact posture, Mama Viv wiped her fingers delicately on a handkerchief on the makeup table, put them in her lap, and turned to face me a little straighter. “Darling, if it’s steady work you need, you have it. If you’re ready to leave the lavish lifestyle that’s above yourcurrentmeans, I have a spare room for you. And if it’s Tristan’s heart you mean to toy with, you have an army to hunt you down and rip you apart should that boy get hurt. Do we understand each other?” The politest of smiles fit for the Great Dining Hall of the Royal Palace of Verdumont touched Lady Vivien Woodcock’s lips.

I couldn’t hold back the rising laugh and the face-splitting grin if I tried. “I will never hurt him, Mama Viv.”

The queen nodded slowly, a touch of sadness shining in her clear, bright eyes. “Very well,” she said softly. “You won’t hurt him intentionally, but Tristan is…fragileis not the word I’m looking for. He’s stronger than most people, given the circumstances, but even the strongest people can break and shatter.”

“Um…circumstances?” I asked.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like some coffee? I’ve got a near full pot of it,” Mama Viv said joyfully, but I could see it was fake.

“I’m good,” I said carefully.

She sighed. “Cedric, this is something Tristan won’t tell you, and I may be overstepping more than I’ll be forgiven for.” She hesitated. “Do you know that Tristan has a standing job offer downstairs?”

I shook my head. “I don’t need to know everything about him to feel what I feel,” I explained.

“This, you do,” Mama Viv said. “Because not knowing it risks Tristan’s well-being, which in turn puts your tush on the line should you make an error.”

I gulped.

Mama Viv wasn’t kidding. Her gentle voice deepened with sincerity. “Tristan won’t take the job because he doesn’t think he deserves it. Frankly, Tristan won’t take anything freely given to him because he doesn’t think he’s worth your trouble. If you managed to convince him, even for an hour on the dance floor, that he deserved the attention, it’s the first time I’ve seen it.” She paused, looking at her hands in her lap.

“Mama Viv, I care about him a great deal,” I said carefully.

“As you should,” the queen agreed. “He is precious.” It tugged the corners of my lips into a smile. He was. “But he has also been hurt, darling. By fate and by himself more than anything else. You see, Tristan is a child of a fairly wealthy couple from upstate New York, but that isn’t something he would have told you. And God forgive me for betraying that sweet man to you, but I would rather lose a friend than see him break and hurt.” She didn’t let me cut in this time, hurrying to tell me everything. “It happened when Tristan was twelve years old. December, I believe, and nearing Christmas. Tristan’s father was driving all four of them. He, Tristan’s mother, Tris, and Jen, his ten-year-old sister, were returning from a visit to Tristan’s grandparents when a truck driver fell asleep at the wheel for just long enough to lean into their lane. Tristan’s father tried to avoid the truck, but the road was slippery, and he lost control of the wheel. They drove off the road.” Mama Viv’s voice trembled a little. “They plunged into the lake, and the car filled with freezing water quickly. Tristan’s parents tried to get the children out, but only Tristan made it. You see, Jen died that night. And Tristan…” She shook her head slowly. “Part of him died with her, my dear. And the part that lived on never really left the shadow.” Mama Viv leaned in a little closer.

A rift went right through my heart, splitting it in half. My poor baby Tristan.

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