“But why?”
The clock chimed again, overpowering her sense. What could she say? “Well, I... oh, the prince! I haven’t met the prince.”
“The prince?” His brows drew together.
“Goodbye.”
She ran as fast as she could through the gardens and the ballroom, stopping only briefly to wave goodbye to the guards waiting in the halls. Everyone seemed to want her to stay longer, but Cinderella ignored their cries. Even when she left her glass slipper on the staircase, she thought better of retrieving it.
There was no time.
Once she was in the carriage, it sped out of the palace, spiraling down the hill into Valors. It was the longest minute of her life. Little by little, her sparkling ball gown sparkled no more, and when the clock finished blaring midnight, she was back in her rags, sitting on a pumpkin, surrounded by Bruno, her dog, and Major, her horse.
She lurched, spying an oncoming coach speeding their way. As she bolted off the road, it trundled past, smashing her pumpkin under its horses’ hooves.
Once it was out of sight, she caught her breath and knelt to pick up the mice that had served as her elegant horses.
Her head swam, reliving the last few moments at the ball. She wished she could have stayed longer with that handsome stranger she’d met; oh, what a silly excuse she’d made to him. What did she care about meeting the prince? She shook her head, simmering with embarrassment.
For better or worse, she didn’t think she would ever see him again.
Despite all that, what a wonderful time she’d had. To finally see the palace, with its glistening chandeliers, and all the beautiful gowns and the gardens. To drink in the ball’s romantic music.
In the shadows, a glass slipper shimmered on her foot. She bent to pick it up.
Strange, that everything should disappear except her glass slipper.
She hugged it to her chest. Before this night, she hadn’t thought magic would ever touch her life. None of this would have been possible without her fairy godmother.
She gazed at the stars twinkling above her. Somehow, she knew her godmother was listening. “Thank you so much... for everything.”
Carefully, she tucked her glass slipper into her pocket. At least she would have it to remind her of what a beautiful night it had been.
Her fairy godmother’s spell had been broken. Tomorrow, everything would go back to the way it was before. Her stepmother would go back to ordering her around the chateau, her stepsisters, Anastasia and Drizella, to tormenting her over every one of their needs, but she’d caught a glimpse of happiness, something she hadn’t felt in many years.
Her eyes had opened to the possibility of leaving home, of dreaming dreams that might actually come true. But she wasn’t brave enough to chase them—not yet. Not so soon, anyway, after such a magnificent night.
What she didn’t realize was—she might not have a choice.
Threads of dawn embossed the sky, rays of pinkish light stretching over the opalescent clouds to brighten the city beneath it.
Many of the young ladies who had traveled from afar to attend the ball were only now arriving home, their feet swollen from dancing all night and their spirits deflated from failing to catch even a single glance from Prince Charles.
For Cinderella, the morning was like any other, though she woke in better spirits than usual, and she hummed to herself while she prepared breakfast for her stepmother and stepsisters.
Anastasia and Drizella weren’t awake yet, at least not when she ascended the staircase to deliver their meals. But once she reached the top, she heard her stepmother barging into her daughters’ rooms, urging them to get dressed.
“Everyone’s talking about it,” Lady Tremaine said while Cinderella brought a breakfast tray into Anastasia’s room, where everyone had gathered. “The whole kingdom. Hurry now, he’ll be here any minute.”
“Who will?” asked Drizella.
“The Grand Duke. He’s been hunting all night.”
“Hunting?” her stepsister repeated.
“For that girl—the one who lost her slipper at the ball last night. They say he’s madly in love with her.”
Anastasia yawned. “The duke is?”
