So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,4

free.

Without thinking, she began humming the song she and her companion—the prince—had danced to. An imaginary orchestra accompanied her: strings swelling with a lush harmony, a harp tinkling a luxurious sweep at the cadence, and flutes singing the dulcet countermelody. She swayed with every step as she made her way back to her room to make herself presentable for the duke’s arrival. It just would not do to see the Grand Duke with dust in her hair and crumbs all over her apron.

She was numb with anticipation. How long had it been since she’d allowed herself to feel such hope?

Cinderella reached for the comb beside her mirror and ran it through her hair, a thrilling tingle shooting up her spine with each stroke. From the window, she could see the king’s castle gleaming in the distance, its towers and spires glittering white as pearls. Graceful as a swan, it sat on a cloud of green: a glorious garden, with endless rows of elm and spruce trees so verdant that emeralds were dull in comparison.

Was the prince inside now, looking out from one of those tall arched windows and wondering where she was? Would he really marry her once he found out she possessed the other glass slipper? She didn’t know what would happen when they reunited, but that didn’t matter. In fact, it thrilled her. For once the future would bring more than her quotidian chores, her stepmother’s rebukes, her stepsisters’ spite. Her life was going to change. Finally.

Leaning closer to the mirror, she studied herself, wishing she had something nicer than her work dress to wear.

Setting down her comb, she glanced out the window reflected on her mirror. No sign of the Grand Duke yet. How she hoped he would arrive soon; she didn’t know how much longer she could wait. She hugged herself, feeling her anticipation building inside.

So deep in a daze was she that she didn’t realize Lady Tremaine had followed her up the winding stairway to her tiny garret room in the attic, not until it was too late.

“No,” she whispered, finally seeing her stepmother appear behind her, her dark silhouette filling the mirror. Her horror grew as Lady Tremaine’s fingers slid across the wooden door. Cinderella turned, but her stepmother seized the key and slammed the door shut.

“No!” Cinderella raced across the room and pounded her fists against the door. “You can’t keep me in here! Please! You can’t. You just can’t.”

But Lady Tremaine’s footsteps were already fading, quickly descending from the tower. Cinderella crumpled against the door.

It was no use; her stepmother wasn’t coming back. She was trapped.

Below, the gates outside creaked open. Horses nickered, and the heavy wheels of a carriage trundled onto the driveway.

The Grand Duke had arrived.

A burst of hope swelled in her chest. Picking herself up, she rushed to the window, frantically trying to get the duke’s attention.

“Your Grace!” she shouted, waving. “Over here! Please, help me!”

Below, the footman helped the Grand Duke out of the carriage. He cast an odd shadow, thin but for the paunch at his belly, with an egg-shaped head. A tall blue hat capped his black hair, its bright red feather matching the sash around his torso. As Lady Tremaine greeted him outside, he walked briskly to the door, giving what seemed like only the most obligatory of greetings.

“Your Grace!” Cinderella tried again. Louder, this time.

But the duke disappeared into the house.

He hadn’t heard her. No one had, and no one would. After all, she was locked up in the chateau’s tower, so high she was peering down at the tops of the trees. It was no use shouting.

Anger bubbled at the back of Cinderella’s throat, but she pushed it away. She never used to question her stepmother’s cruelty. Over the years, she’d toughened her heart, forgiving Lady Tremaine and her daughters every night for the unkindness they seemed to enjoy meting out to her.

But today, her stepmother had taken a dream Cinderella had only just begun to have faith might actually come true—and shattered it. And Cinderella was more trapped than ever.

Mice scurried out of their hiding places inside the walls and nibbled at the hem of her skirts. Another day, seeing them might have made her smile, but blinking back tears, Cinderella turned away from them.

“I just want to be alone,” she told them softly.

Not understanding, the mice circled her, their little paws tapping against the wooden floor.

For so long the mice had been her only company, besides Bruno. They were certainly preferable