So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,25

her eyes kept drifting up.

This was the man who’d visited the chateau looking for her. All she had to do was ask him to let her try the glass slipper.

Under his arm, the duke carried a thick scroll loosely bound by a satin ribbon. It looked like a list of addresses—presumably, residences that he had to visit today in search of the missing princess.

In search of her.

“Have you found her yet?” Cinderella asked, filling the heavy silence between them.

Startled from his distraction, the duke scowled at her. Who knew whether it was because she had dared speak to him without first being given permission, or because she’d brought up an unpleasant topic, but she simply couldn’t help asking.

“Who?”

Cinderella inhaled, summoning her courage. “The girl with the glass slipper.”

“Heavens, no. If I had, the council wouldn’t have canceled the meeting this morning, and I—” He stopped, his expression stony as he plodded ahead.

Tell him, her heart urged her. Tell him you’re the girl who danced with the prince at the ball.

Cinderella opened her mouth to try again, but the words came out as a question:

“Can any girl try on the glass slipper?”

“Every eligible maiden,” he said wearily, as if the phrase had been beaten into him.

“So someone . . . someone like me?”

The duke eyed her sharply. “No. You are a servant of the royal household. It would be impossible. Impossible. What will we have next, commoners serving on the Royal Council?”

Stung, Cinderella drew back. More than anything, she wanted to tell him: I am the girl you’re looking for. You can call the search off.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. After all, she no longer had her glass slipper to prove it. She could practically hear him laughing at her. A pretty picture, young lady—imagine, a maid becoming a princess. Then he would dismiss her, and she’d never be able to enter the palace again.

What was more—she couldn’t forget her fairy godmother’s uneasiness when she’d said, My magic is forbidden in Aurelais.

Even if the Grand Duke did let her try the slipper, a man like him was bound to question how she had gotten her beautiful ball gown, her glass shoes, her fine coach and horses. What if the answer—magic—led to trouble for Lenore? That wouldn’t do. She couldn’t risk it.

She’d have to wait and try to find the prince. Prince Charles would remember her, and then everything would fall into place.

Or you could focus on creating a new life for yourself and Bruno, she reminded herself. Not some fantasy you’ve made up for yourself after one night dancing with a man you just met.

She curtsied stiffly. “I apologize, Your Grace.”

“Quite so. Quite so.” The duke removed his hat, fanning himself with it. When he spoke next, he sounded almost apologetic. “I have had a long day, young lady. Do not pester me further with such bizarre inquiries.”

He waited for her to nod before going on. “Normally, such undignified questions posed to your superior would be most unwelcome. But curiosity happens to be a trait I need in you.”

Cinderella must have looked confused, for he replied, “All will be explained as necessary.”

He stopped in front of a gilded door so tall it touched the ceiling. Cinderella only now realized they had left the servants’ quarters: the carpets had turned a rich, deep burgundy embellished with silver tassels, the vaulted ceilings were painted with historic scenes of Aurelais’s first kings and queens, and the doors were furnished with gold-plated knobs.

“Welcome back, Your Grace.” The guard on the right opened the door, and the duke strode inside his office.

“Quickly, child,” said the duke. “I’m a busy man, and I have many matters of state to attend to this morning.”

Cinderella hurried inside, standing awkwardly in front of the duke’s desk. Imposing portraits of him stared from every direction, with the odd effect of making his real self seem small.

“Now, Duchess Genevieve is the king’s sister, and you have been tasked with the very important role of serving her.” The duke looked off to the side, making sure the door was closed. He lowered his voice. “I’d like you to keep an eye on her. Report to me everything about the duchess—what she eats for breakfast, what she says and does with her day. Everything.”

Cinderella fought to keep her features expressionless. Why? she wanted to ask.

“I will be away today in search of the missing maiden with the glass slipper, but I shall anticipate your report when I return. Do I make