So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,17

laughing. “Can you even see it, behind you?”

Louisa craned her neck to look. “You’re right.” The seamstress made a worried face. “I’ll be sent home if I show up at the palace with a tear in my skirt.”

The comment startled Cinderella. “The palace?”

“I work there.”

Cinderella’s heart skipped a beat. Quickly looking down at Louisa’s skirt to hide her emotions, she took the needle and thread her new friend offered. “You must be very skilled.”

“Hah.” Louisa held up her skirt so Cinderella could begin working. “My mother owns a small dress shop in the Garment District. I’ve been sewing for her since I was little, but I’m still the slowest in the palace.”

Cinderella didn’t speak until she was nearly done mending Louisa’s skirt. “Is this good enough?”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. You’re a fine seamstress yourself.”

I used to sew for my stepsisters, Cinderella almost said, but she stopped herself. The memory of Mr. Laverre and her stepmother trying to indenture her as a servant were too fresh. Best not to speak of them, not only because she was worried they might find her, but also because her stepmother’s cruelty still stung.

“Very neat,” Louisa said admiringly. Then she hesitated before observing, “Your hands are shaking.”

“Are they?” Cinderella stuffed them into her pockets. “Just a little chilly, I guess.”

“Goodness, you don’t even have a coat?” Louisa frowned, then took one of the sheaths of cloth from her basket and wrapped it around Cinderella’s shoulders. “You don’t have to tell me how you ended up on the street, but . . . tell me the truth. You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?”

Slowly, Cinderella shook her head. Hunger sharpened in her gut, and her stomach growled before she could stop it.

“I knew it! Why don’t you come with me? I’ll make sure the cooks get you a nice bowl of soup. I think it’s onion soup today, and that’s one of my favorites.” Louisa paused, glancing at Cinderella’s dirty dress and the apron over it. “Maybe we can even find a job for you.”

“In the palace?”

“No, the tanneries. Of course, the palace!” Louisa giggled at Cinderella’s wide eyes, misreading her startled expression for one of awe. “It’s less grand when you’re the one cleaning it. But given the urgent search for the missing princess, no one in the palace is paying close attention to us servants. I’m sure I could convince Aunt Irmina to give you a few days’ work at the very least.”

Cinderella swallowed. The palace was where Prince Charles lived, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew that the chances of running into him would be slim. And yet . . . maybe—just maybe, if he saw her again, even dressed as a member of the palace staff, he might recognize her.

She shook the possibility away. What am I thinking, clinging to some silly fantasy about a silly prince I’ve only met once? She inhaled, trying to reason away her feelings for the prince. A job in the palace is more than I could have hoped for. It’s work that will pay, and it’s a life away from my stepmother. It’s the new start I’ve been waiting for.

“Well?” Louisa asked. “What do you say?”

Cinderella almost agreed, but then she remembered Bruno, who was staring morosely at the two girls. “What about Bruno?”

Louisa eyed the bloodhound nervously. “I can try to sneak him into the servants’ quarters, but we’ll have to keep him hidden. Aunt Irmina is not fond of animals.”

So it was settled, and Cinderella followed her new friend, Louisa, to the last place she’d thought she would see again.

The palace.

“Announcing the Crown Prince Charles Maximilian Alexander, son of King George-Louis Philippe III, noble prince and beloved heir to the throne of Aurelais—”

Charles usually would have waited for the royal crier to finish declaring his entrance, but this morning he barely even heard the man.

He stormed into the royal dining chamber. Inside, he found his father calmly breaking his fast with a plate of almond cakes, freshly baked pastries, and raspberry jam, and the Grand Duke reading aloud from a scroll.

“That is one hundred and twenty-three households, sire,” declared Ferdinand. “None of the maidens came close to fitting the slipper. At this rate, I suspect the search is futile and that the missing young lady will not be foun—” The duke lowered his scroll, noticing Charles. “Why, good morning, Your Highness.”

A flurry of servants trailed Charles. Any other day, he might have felt horrible about causing a ruckus with his unexpected appearance at