Then again, more than once she’d wondered what would have happened if she had stayed past midnight. Would Charles have accepted her, or would the sight of her in rags have mortified him?
Maybe Louisa was right and shehadbeen afraid. Maybe she didn’t want to know the answer. It was better this way, keeping the prince as a cherished memory. She needed to protect herself; she’d experienced enough heartache to last a lifetime.
She returned her attention to the duchess, who had dipped into her armoire, flipping through the many fine garments she had brought to the palace.
“Everyone is inordinately obsessed with this girl,” said Genevieve, unaware of the thoughts spooling in Cinderella’s mind. “Another reason to hold a second ball. Charles needs to move on and forget this spineless glass slipper lady.”
“Spineless?” Cinderella echoed, heat rising to her cheeks. “Why do you think she’s spineless?”
“A girl who runs off on my nephew must be hiding something.”
“What if she didn’t know he was your nephew?” asked Cinderella carefully.
Genevieve lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Even so. A potential princess of Aurelais cannot afford to have secrets. The court would eat her alive if she were anything less than perfect. Trust me,Iwould know. She must be a model of courage, grace, and virtue. A princess who runs off like that and refuses to come forth is not a paragon of any of the three.”
“I’m sure she had a good reason.”
“Believe what you wish,” said the duchess, withdrawing a deep emerald gown from her closet. “Have the collar mended before the masquerade. I don’t need a fitting—I’ve been wearing this dress since before you were born and it still fits.”
As she folded the gown into a small trunk, Cinderella hesitated. “Do you think the prince loves her?”
“I think he’s in love with the idea of her,” replied the duchess flippantly, her words echoing Cinderella’s fears. “If she were to return to the ball, I am certain he would propose marriage, but that’s only because George is forcing him to.”
Forcing him to?Cinderella’s ears began to ring uncontrollably, the words repeating over and over in her head. She sucked in a breath to calm herself. “What... what do you mean?”
“My brother is the one behind the royal proclamation—and the ball. George is in such a rush for Charles to find a wife that he vowed my nephew would wed the girl who fit the glass slipper. Honestly, from what I know about this girl, I don’t think that such a union would be good for Charles, or for Aurelais.”
Cinderella’s hands, clenching the sides of the trunk, shook, and she had to fight to keep her voice from trembling. “I see. Then let’s hope she doesn’t appear tomorrow.”
With the hastiest curtsy she could manage, Cinderella hurried out of the room, ignoring the duchess’s call, “Cindergirl, I wasn’t finished with you!”
Cinderella needed to breathe. Everything felt suddenly hot, and she desperately needed some fresh air, needed to clear her mind of what the duchess had told her.
Her heart ached with disappointment, and try as she might, she couldn’t reason it away the way she had whenever her stepmother hurt her. This was new, deeper than the sting of when Charles hadn’t recognized her in the palace.
To learn that the entire ball had been a ruse to find Charles a wife, that he had all but beenforcedto choose someone. No, that wasn’t the surprising part. That wasn’t thehurtfulpart.
What hurt was that Charles had picked her simply because he had to picksomeone. And now, if there were another ball, he’d choose the next girl who caught his eye. Maybe she had taken their connection that night for granted... but had he never cared about her in the first place?
Of course, there was the fact that he hadn’t recognized her. Days later, the pain from seeing him spin away from her and disappear down the corridor, as if she were a perfect stranger, was still fresh.
Cinderella’s head throbbed, and she clutched the trunk holding the duchess’s dress tighter.
Didshecare abouthim? She’d thought she did, but how many young men had she met while under her stepmother’s charge? None.
The prince was the first. He’d been so charming, listening to her attentively as if she were the most important person in the world and not a servant to be ordered about or treated with callous contempt. His easy smile and warm eyes had won her over, and now here she was, still thinking about him.
Maybe she was naive to expect he felt the same as she did—that they had shared something special. Truth be told, it would be foolish of him to marry someone he’d only met once. Besides, she knew nothing about being a princess. And she’d spent enough years under her stepmother’s pitiless eye; she didn’t need to spend the rest of her life under her entire country’s.
Cinderella stopped at one of the windows, pressing her hand against the cool glass.
Outside, the gardens beckoned. Bathed under the cloak of moonlight, they were breathtaking. The hedges rustled under the dim lamplight, swaying to an invisible symphony, and the marble pavilions shone white as pearls.
It was late enough that no one would be passing through now. Perhaps she could cut across and make a short detour before heading to her room. Being outside would help her think clearly again.
After a long breath, Cinderella pulled away from the window, making for the two doors leading outside to the gardens. She waited for the guard to open them, but he met her gaze with a penetrating glare.
When she tried to enter the doors, he stopped in front of her.
