Dearest Cinderella (6 page)

Cinderella was disappointed.
She'd spent hours avoiding her stepmother and asking everywhere for
Jon. Nobody knew who he was, perhaps because she didn't even know
his surname. She could hardly comprehend the idea. That she knew so
much about his character, his likes and dislikes, but she didn't
know where he lived, she didn't know his surname. In the end it had
all been for naught, but as she sat next to the fountain watching
the stars and relishing her freedom she almost didn't care. This
moment, her eyes closed, away from all the pressures of her life,
surrounded by ferns and nothing else, she felt content. And then
she thought about Jon, and she sighed. Her sigh was echoed by a
deeper one. In shock she sat up too fast and almost fell back into
the fountain before she grabbed hold of the stone she sat on and
righted herself. Looking up she found a man was staring at her, two
deep blue eyes pierced her. A face framed by a straight nose and
muscular jaw. He was dressed impeccably. Cinderella tilted her
head, he almost looked like-

"Y-your Majesty," she gasped,
hurrying to stand and bow, almost falling again before regaining
her balance.

"This is a private area" he
watched her strangely, it made her feel awkward and flustered.

"I apologise, I assumed that
this area was available to guests." She made to leave before he
held his hand out,

"Please, sit with me." she took
his hand, it was warm and sure. They sat next to each other in
front of the fountain silently. Each lost in their own thoughts
before the Prince asked, "What would persuade a woman, such as
yourself, to sit alone outside when there is a ball inside?"

Forgetting that she was talking
to the Prince and future ruler, Cinderella countered, "I might ask
you the same question." He laughed, glancing at her from the corner
of his eye.

"I was meeting someone," she
shifted the skirt of her dress, deciding that tonight was not the
night to be weighed down by propriety.

"It would seem that is the theme
for tonight. Might I venture to guess that you also did not achieve
the outcome you'd hoped for tonight?" He watched her for a moment,
trying to understand the confusing, beautiful creature beside
him.

"You would be correct. And you?"
She smiled, but it was without humour, merely the strains of
lips.

"I always assumed that royalty
was spared feelings of rejection or neglect. I suppose I've been
fairly narrow sighted." He turned to the fountain, tapping the
water, creating small circular ripples.

"She's not royalty," This peaked
Cinderella's interest, she was pulled from her own self-loathing
thoughts about Jon by her intrigue. It was quite a scandal for
royalty to mix with people below their station, at least
seriously.

"What a tricky situation. And do
you care for her, this woman?" He laughed.

"Tricky," he rolled the word on
his tongue, satisfied with its description. "It doesn't matter how
I feel anymore, she has made it clear that she does not wish to
meet me"

"Ah, so you are like me.
Hopelessly in love, but without any hope."

"Unless you met your love by
stumbling upon their diary in the forest, we are nothing alike."
Cinderella's hand froze on her skirt.

"Diary in the forest?" She
couldn't breath, her face went hot and then it went cold. She
watched with bated breath as he laughed bitterly, running a hand
through his short, cropped hair.

"It is as strange as it sounds.
To fall in love with a commoner." Cinderella barely heard his
words. Her ears were pounding. It was like some horrid sick joke.
She'd thought her chance was slim with a simple gentleman but with
the Prince? It was impossible. She stood abruptly from the
fountain.

"I must go." She stammered. She
had to get as far away from him as possible. She'd been ignorant
this whole time. She was certainly no Princess. If the idea of
telling Jon that she was illegitimate had scared her then, the idea
of even broaching the topic with Prince Mark terrified her beyond
reason. He said nothing to her announcement of leaving. Cinderella
glanced back at him, he looked deflated. He appeared how she felt.
Her conscience refused to leave him without any comfort, to allow
him to feel misplaced rejection. She sighed and sat back down.
"Maybe something held her back?"

"Very possible."

"But you don't believe that?" He
took a deep breath, staring up at the sky.

"Perhaps she somehow realised I
was the Prince and took off," Cinderella felt her cheeks burn with
shame, that had been exactly what she was doing, "or perhaps she
finally decided that I wasn't worth the trouble." She felt
horrible.

"Or, perhaps she realised that
you two came from different worlds and wanted to save you the
heartbreak?" He looked at her hard.

"Is this your attempt at making
me feel better?" She groaned and put a hand on his decorated
shoulder.

"It is for the best." He looked
her in the eyes, a thoughtful look on his face. His faced lowered
to hers spellbindingly. Their lips touched softly, the Prince
taking control of the kiss, his hand curling around her neck to
pull her closer. Cinderella was aware that this was exactly the
opposite of what she should be doing. But it was too sweet, the
moment was too perfect to pull away from. Her heart burst in her
chest, jumping from the sheer pleasure of being embraced by her
mystery writer. If she was to go home to a life without happiness
or love then she would make the most of this one perfect moment. In
his arms, protected and safe. Slowly, they pulled away from each
other out of breath.

"Would you grant me the next
dance?" He stood and held a lofty hand out to her.

She blushed, "I do not know
how."

"Trust yourself." She took his
hand and together they walked, arms linked, towards the ballroom.
As they entered, neither of the two particularly noticed the
encroaching stares from those around them. They were instead
immersed in the simple touch of a hand through an offered arm.
Cinderella had stars in her eyes as the Prince led her into the
fray of dancing couple, swinging her into a wide arc, putting her
hand in his, ready for the opening bars of the waltz. As the music
rose they spun in choreographed moves, the Prince taking complete
control of the dance, sweeping Cinderella this way and that,
covering for the moves she did not know. "To live without dance is
to live without soul;" He quoted with a smile.

"Oh, I love to dance but my...my
education was limited."

"That is a shame." He released
his hand from her back and took the hand that was clasped within
her own, lifting it above her and encouraging her to spin. She
laughed, twirling. For a single moment everything was perfect, the
Prince was grinning that broad boyish grin down at her, her head
felt light with mirth and the song was alive with electricity.
Then, on another spin she caught sight of her family, turning away
from the dancing couples and towards the door. Alarm rang through
her, if they were leaving then so would she be compelled. Her body
stiffened as the waltz closed, giving the Prince a hurried bow and
taking off in the other direction, without a word. She heard naught
of what he said, nor did she see the mass of people that descended
on the Prince, offering their greetings and asking each other who
he'd been dancing with.

Cinderella, sick with panic,
gave no thought to which entrance she was exiting, her only thought
being that she had to return home before her stepmother. Her
stepmother would most definitely take her anger out on her two
daughters if she did not, and Cinderella would not allow that to
happen. She ran out onto the path, somehow finding herself next to
the royal stables.

"Stop!" she spun on the spot,
the Prince stood between her and the entrance to the ball.

"I must go"

"You've said that before," he
remarked, talking lazy steps closer. She spun around looking for an
easier way to leave, time was of the essence, her stammering heart
reminded her.

"I really must go." He seemed to
notice the panic in Cinderella's voice as he came closer, a dent of
concern marking between his brow.

"What's wrong?" She looked away
from him. She didn't have time for this, her brain yelled. She had
to leave.

"Your horses," she pointed at
the stables, losing all sense of rational though. "Can I borrow
one?" He stared at her speechless, beginning to laugh before
stopping himself at the wild and helpless look in her eyes.

He took her hand, "Come with
me." Together they ran into the stables, the guards and stable
hands moved away when they noticed that it was the Prince who
entered. He untied one of the steeds, "She's my best horse. As
quiet as a mouse and very kind too." He brought over a stool so
that she could hook her leg over the side in a thoroughly
unladylike manner. "Do I have your word she will be returned?"

"Yes, thank you." The Prince led
her, atop his horse, out of the stable.

"Good luck." He reached out to
release a portion of her dress that had been caught under the
riding habit. Pulling it up only slightly, but it was all that was
needed for him to see a small golden shoe with glass carvings.
"Wait!" The Prince caught hold of her ankle. He looked up.
Realising what he'd discovered, Cinderella's eyes widened, acting
upon instinct she quickly tightened the reins and urged the horse
to run. Leaning over the horse as it began to gallop her ankle slid
out of the baffled Princes hand, taking her shoe off in the
process. As she sailed through the trees she dimly heard him call
out her name, but by then it was too late. The clock tower chimed
midnight in the far distance.

CHAPTER

NINE

Cinderella hugged the neck of
the horse as it galloped through the forest. She'd lost hold of the
reins and now she clutched its neck for dear life. She wasn't
confident that her body was shaking as a result of the horse alone.
Cinderella forced herself to take calming breathes. As they flew
past the oak tree she turned her face to the other side as to avoid
the memories that had been created there. As her arms struggled to
keep hold of the horse she couldn't keep from remembering the look
of abject shock on the Princes' face. When she'd cleared the
forest, she slowed the horse down to a trot. Entering through the
back garden, she pulled on the reins until the horse stopped.
Sliding down, she only realised as she touched the ground that she
was missing a shoe. She pulled up the dress and looked sadly down
at her feet. She shook her head to clear away the thoughts, tied
the horse to a tree just outside the garden and crept in through
the back door. She took the stairs two at a time, keeping care to
be as quiet as possible. Opening her room slowly to avoid the
creaks, she breathed a sigh of relief and was immediately caught by
her stepmother.

"Dressed in such fine clothes
for your chores." She stood from the bed, her height and expression
formidable. "Tell me Cinderella, how stupid do you think I am? That
I wouldn't notice my very own burden at the ball, dancing with the
Prince." Cinderella was speechless, her heart caught in her throat.
"Did you lie to him? Tell him that you were a part of our family,
that you aren't filth." She spat the word. Walking casually over to
Cinderella's dressing table, picking up things, glancing at them
and slamming them forcefully back down on the table.

"I-" she twisted abruptly to
glare at Cinderella.

"Yes? Please explain how you
duped the Prince into a dance when my two beautiful entitled
daughters barely managed a return smile."

"I did not dupe him!"

"So you deny presenting him a
false image of yourself?"

Cinderella pushed her shoulders
back, trying to match her stepmothers posture, "Yes."

"And I suppose that dress that
you're wearing is yours? You stole it didn't you? Don't deny it,
how else could you afford such a fine dress."

"It was a gift." A slow
sickening smile slithered onto her face.

"Ah, I see now. You've taken
after your mother. Enjoy your presents Cinderella." She pushed past
Cinderella, walking to the door where she turned back to her with a
sneer. "If you so much as attempt to contact the Prince again I
will expose the truth of your birth, I will not have the daughter
of a common whore upstaging my daughters." She slammed the door
behind herself, Cinderella ran to the door when she heard a faint
metallic click, but by then it was too late. It had only taken a
moment for her stepmother to turn the key and lock Cinderella's
room from the outside. Indefinitely.

The Prince sat in his study, his
chin resting on the antique desk, his eyes resting on the shoe. He
was baffled, every time he recounted last night's events one
particular thing kept nudging at him. She'd been about to walk
away. She'd known it was him and turned away. Every time he thought
about the way she'd acted towards him, how she'd seemed genuinely
frightened at the end of the night, he couldn't help his pulse
jumping, his heart beating faster. He smoothed a hand over his
brow, why had he given his horse to someone he'd thought was a
perfect stranger? It could not have been her beauty alone that had
persuaded him to lead her into the stables, give her a horse and
let her gallop away. He groaned. Hopelessly in love but without
hope, is what she'd said. Why was she without hope? Royalty
marrying a lower class was rare but it wasn't unheard of-

"There you are, I have been
looking absolutely everywhere for you," his mother called from
behind him. He didn't move, still staring at that small perfect
slipper. She came closer, watching over his shoulder. "My, that is
a beautiful shoe." He sat back in his chair stretching his limbs.
He'd seen the pair of shoes in the window of a store and it had
called to him.