The height of Lady Tremaine’s chin wilted ever so slightly. She wouldn’t look at Cinderella, but her stepsisters lowered their eyes, shame tingeing their cheeks.
“I forgive you, Stepmother, Anastasia, Drizella. I am not angry with you; if anything, I pity you. You can’t know happiness if your life is built around resentment. For your sakes, I hope your hearts change.”
There. That was all she wished to say, and a soft murmur swelled across the room. Their heads bowed, her stepmother and stepsisters hurried out of the palace, and Charles returned to her side. As conversation resumed among the court, the Grand Duke slithered toward Cinderella and the prince.
“Come now, Your Highness, you ought to take a moment for the unrest from this unfortunate debacle to settle down before you introduce your bride to His Majesty.”
Cinderella barely paid attention as the duke led the couple away from the ballroom and toward an anteroom blocked off by velvet curtains.
All her years with Lady Tremaine had come to an end, and she was free—for good. She’d never have to see the woman ever again if she didn’t wish to. Cinderella sank onto one of the cushioned chairs, glad she had a moment to collect herself before going back out to meet the king.
“Are you all right?” said the prince, sitting beside her.
A mess of emotions tugged at Cinderella’s thoughts—sadness, relief, pity. She wasn’t sure how to sort them out yet, but one thing she was sure of was her love for Charles, and she managed a smile for him. “Thank you for letting her stay.”
“Anything for you,” said Charles. “Though I have to say, she’s terrible, even more than you let on.”
“Indeed,” cut in the Grand Duke, reminding them both that he was there. Cinderella jumped in her chair.
“That was very elegantly done, Your Highness,” Ferdinand said. “Imagine, the nerve of making a maid out of her own stepdaughter! Best to expel such ruffians from the future princess.”
“Yes,” replied the prince stiffly. “And thank you for your help, Ferdinand.”
“It is my pleasure. I vividly recall visiting the Tremaine household.” He shuddered. “Who would have thought there was such a lovely maiden there?” He smiled widely at Cinderella. “Rest here now, and I will ensure that Pierre has retrieved the glass slipper for safekeeping. Allow me also to see to it that order in the ballroom has been restored, and then I will escort you both to His Majesty.”
“It’s unlike Ferdinand to be so helpful,” murmured the prince when the duke had left. Charles stroked his chin. “The Tremaine householdwason his list of homes to visit. I wonder why he couldn’t find you.”
“He couldn’t find me because I was hidden away,” said Cinderella softly. “My stepmother locked me in my room when he came to our estate with the glass slipper. I shattered the one I kept so my stepsisters couldn’t use it to get you to marry one of them.” She swallowed. Her mouth was dry, her chest still tight from the encounter with Lady Tremaine and her stepsisters. “Your father doesn’t think I’m a thief, does he? I didn’t steal the glass slippers—”
“I know that,” replied Charles. “My father will understand once I explain it to him.”
“But will you ask him about my fairy god—”
“Ahem,” interrupted the Grand Duke from the doorway. He really had a knack for catching people unaware, and Cinderella wondered how much of their conversation he had heard. “Your father wishes to see you.”
Charles sent her an apologetic look. “I’ll tell Father everything, then send for you.”
“Go,” said Cinderella to the prince. “I’ll wait here for you.”
But as soon as the prince left with the Grand Duke, royal guards appeared out of nowhere, wearing dark and menacing glares.
Cinderella tensed, her thoughts sharpening with fear. They weren’t the same men who often accompanied Prince Charles; Pierre wasn’t among them. Cinderella was about to remark on it when one of the guards addressed her with a bow:
“For your safety, milady, we’ve come to escort you from the ball.”
“From the ball?” Cinderella repeated. “I’m waiting for the prince. He’s gone to see his father.”
“Orders.” The guard pushed her toward a side door that she’d never taken before.
“This way,” he said gruffly, leading her into a dim, narrow hallway.
They’re walking too fast,she thought, panicking. “I think I should wait for Charles.” When she tried to turn back, the guards grabbed her shoulders.
“Wh-wh-where are we going?” she asked, her voice thick with apprehension.
“The Grand Duke will explain. He wishes to have a private word with you.”
Cinderella frowned. “I thought he was with the prince.”
