Her heart skipped a beat. What should she say? What should she do? Her legs were frozen in their spot, and if not for the table behind her, she was afraid she would have stumbled over her own two feet.
“It’s you,” Prince Charles repeated in wonderment, his expression softening. He cleared his throat, a distinct rush of red coloring his ears as he realized he was staring at her. When he spoke again, his voice grew even gentler. “I thought I recognized your voice. I... I hoped I would see you again.”
Cinderella could have sworn the room was floating, and she with it. The glowing chandeliers swam around her, their lights blinking like stars.
He hadn’t forgotten her. He recognized her. And moreover, he seemed happy to see her.
Her lips parted. He was waiting for her to respond, but what could she possibly say? How could she explain why she’d left the other night, and why he hadn’t been able to find her?
He hasn’t asked you for an explanation,she chided herself.
“H-hello,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t hear how her heart hammered. The simple greeting instantly made his face brighten, and she wondered whether he could have possibly worried the same—thatshehad forgotten him.
“Hello,” returned the prince.
Before he could say more, a server appeared with a tray of fresh glasses. Charles gestured at it, and as he offered her a glass of water, his hand trembled slightly—the only sign that he was as nervous as she was. “Were you... thirsty?”
Cinderella smiled shyly. “No, thank you. I was just looking for someone. A friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes. She came to the ball with me. But I think she might have made her way to the dance floor.”
Charles set the glass down. “Let me accompany you there to find her—and selfishly steal a dance for myself if I may.”
Yes,she wanted to say. She desperately wanted to dance with him, to talk with him, to get to know him better. And yet... the duchess’s words haunted her.
I think he’s in love with the idea of her.
Well, the same could be said of Cinderella, too, for what did she know of the prince?
Nothing. After one kiss, you were imagining yourself his bride. It’s a good thing the Grand Duke never asked you to try on the glass slipper. You would have fallen into a dream with a harsh awakening.
No good could come of their meeting. She was a servant in the palace, he the only heir to the throne of Aurelais. Maybe if she made an excuse to leave, she could run back to the servants’ quarters and pretend this had never happened.
Then, right as she’d gathered her resolve, a smile lifted Charles’s warm brown eyes, and she melted.
“Cat caught your tongue?” he prodded softly. “Or are you looking for the prince?”
His gentle teasing set her heart at ease.
“Your Highness, I apologize. I didn’t—”
“Don’t bow, and don’t apologize.” His words carried no trace of admonishment, only relief. “You have no idea how glad I am you’re here.”
Rather bashfully, he extended his arm for her to take. “It seems for once the Grand Duke’s done me a favor.”
“What do you mean?”
Prince Charles gestured in the Grand Duke’s direction.
“He’s searching for you,” Cinderella murmured, stating the obvious, still not understanding. “He doesn’t look happy.”
“See that girl behind him?”
Cinderella craned her neck to look. Yes, the same young lady with the tiara she had noticed earlier.
“I was hiding in the corner of the ballroom, trying to dodge Ferdinand’s ploys to have me dance with her. If not for his scheming, I might never have seen you again.”
