So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,100

wanted.

She’d have to do this alone. But how?

Wringing her hands together, she leaned her head back against the wall, ignoring the mice skittering at her feet. Had it only been a few weeks ago that she’d been alone on the streets, promising herself she’d never feel this helpless again?

Think, Cinderella. She gritted her teeth. Think.

She only had until noon, when the guards would arrive to take her away from the palace. When the duke would meet with the council and become the Grand Overseer of the kingdom.

She needed to beat Ferdinand to the council.

For the hundredth time, Cinderella kicked at her skirt, searching its silken layers for something, anything that could help her get out of there. Odds were slim an absentminded seamstress might have left some pins or a needle in such a fine garment, but Cinderella was desperate.

She flipped the folds of her skirt back and forth and did the same with her sleeves, unrolling them. Nothing.

What was she hoping for—a needle, a button? None of it would be any good against the guards outside her cell.

It’d be better than nothing. And I have nothing.

Frustrated, she staggered back, resting her head against the brick wall. Her beads clattered against her neck, and Cinderella’s hand went up to her mother’s necklace.

More than once, it’d occurred to her that she could try to bribe the guards with it. But the beads were from her mother, and she would never give them away.

An idea came to her.

Her hands trembling, she reached for the loaf of bread a guard had tossed into her cell earlier.

“Breakfast,” he’d barked at her. He’d shuddered at the sight of the mice nibbling at her ropes. “Better eat it before the rats get to it.”

She’d ignored him, feeding the mice half her loaf while she brainstormed ways to escape. Word must have spread among the mice that there was food to be had—nearly a dozen now scurried about her cell, eagerly awaiting their meal.

Cinderella sprinkled a few crumbs on the ground, a plan slowly forming in her mind.

Outside her tiny window, the sun glimmered, nearly at the peak of its daily ascent. On the other side of the cell door, the guards started talking, and Cinderella stilled. Had the carriage arrived?

“His Grace wants to be sure no one notices the prisoner leaving.”

“Go on ahead and fetch her. She was up all night scratching at the door, and I think she’s at it again, the meek little mouse. I’ll ready the carriage.”

Cinderella clenched her fists. She’d show them just how “meek” she was.

I have to hurry, she thought. Carefully, she broke the remains of her loaf into the smallest chunks that she could and stuffed them into her pocket. Then she knelt, picking up five of the mice scurrying about her feet and tucking them into the folds of her skirt.

It felt like forever before she finally heard footsteps.

“Good morning, little mouse,” the guard jeered. “You finish your breakfast?”

Open the door, Cinderella thought. Hurry and open the door.

“Is it time?” she asked, clutching her dress tightly. The mice inside wriggled, and she worried they’d scamper out before she could go through with her plan. “Have you come to take me away?”

With a laugh, the guard finally unlocked the door. He whipped out a long scarf, holding it toward her threateningly. “First I’ve got to make sure you don’t make too much noise. Can’t have you screaming the entire trip out of Valors.”

He tried to seize her by the arm, and Cinderella sidestepped. Working as fast as she could, she reached into her pocket and threw the breadcrumbs into the guard’s hair. Then she unclenched the folds of her skirt and let the mice go free.

They scurried after the guard, nibbling at his leather boots and climbing up his legs to his head. As he cried out in alarm, Cinderella stole out of the prison toward freedom.

A daunting hill separated the prison from the palace, the hundreds of steps no doubt designed to exhaust any captives who dared escape the Grand Duke’s clutches. Hungry and tired, Cinderella could feel her muscles stiffening from the endless climb, but she pressed on.

Up and up the narrow steps she scrambled, keeping one hand against the hill’s rough stone face to help her balance. There had to be a faster way to the palace.

Behind her, the two guards were catching up. She couldn’t rest now.

Once she was halfway up the path, the stone behind her fingertips rumbled. A trapdoor behind the moss swung