So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,54
his son wed. Maybe tonight Charles will meet someone.”
Cinderella looked up at the duchess. Summoning her courage, she asked, “Do you think the girl with the glass slipper will return? Do you think she . . . should return?”
The duchess wrinkled her nose. “If you ask me, it’d be best if my nephew never saw that girl again.”
The words stung Cinderella. Yet how could she blame the duchess? To her—to everyone—the identity of the elusive young lady dressed in a moonlight-blue gown and glass slippers, who had riveted the entire ball and captured the heart of the prince, was a mystery. And the greater puzzle was why she—Cinderella—had vanished, leaving the prince heartbroken.
Even Louisa was fascinated by the runaway princess. Fascinated, and also incredulous.
“She must be very rich and very powerful,” she’d said one evening while Cinderella was helping her finish some mending in the servants’ quarters. “Who else would run away from a chance to marry the prince of Aurelais?”
“Maybe she isn’t either of those things,” Cinderella reasoned. “Maybe she was just a regular girl—like you or me—who stumbled upon the chance of a lifetime to go to a royal ball.”
“Regular girls like you or me don’t have a gown so fine, especially not one that fits so perfectly,” said Louisa sensibly, taking a seamstress’s point of view.
“Someone could have given it to her.”
“Ha!” Then Louisa tilted her head, considering. “Let’s imagine you’re right. Let’s say she’s a common girl like us. Maybe she fled because she was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“It’d be the only reasonable explanation. Say the prince fell in love with me . . . I’d be thrilled beyond all measure, but well, I’m not so naive as to think it would amount to anything. A prince marries a princess, not some palace seamstress.”
Cinderella couldn’t think of a response, so she’d simply nodded, her neck wooden as her head bobbed up and down.
Only she knew the truth. She’d fled because of what her fairy godmother had told her: that magic only lasted so long and her magnificent clothes and carriage would become rags and a pumpkin upon the stroke of midnight.
Then again, more than once she’d wondered what would have happened if she had stayed past midnight. Would Charles have accepted her, or would the sight of her in rags have mortified him?
Maybe Louisa was right and she had been afraid. Maybe she didn’t want to know the answer. It was better this way, keeping the prince as a cherished memory. She needed to protect herself; she’d experienced enough heartache to last a lifetime.
She returned her attention to the duchess, who had dipped into her armoire, flipping through the many fine garments she had brought to the palace.
“Everyone is inordinately obsessed with this girl,” said Genevieve, unaware of the thoughts spooling in Cinderella’s mind. “Another reason to hold a second ball. Charles needs to move on and forget this spineless glass slipper lady.”
“Spineless?” Cinderella echoed, heat rising to her cheeks. “Why do you think she’s spineless?”
“A girl who runs off on my nephew must be hiding something.”
“What if she didn’t know he was your nephew?” asked Cinderella carefully.
Genevieve lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Even so. A potential princess of Aurelais cannot afford to have secrets. The court would eat her alive if she were anything less than perfect. Trust me, I would know. She must be a model of courage, grace, and virtue. A princess who runs off like that and refuses to come forth is not a paragon of any of the three.”
“I’m sure she had a good reason.”
“Believe what you wish,” said the duchess, withdrawing a deep emerald gown from her closet. “Have the collar mended before the masquerade. I don’t need a fitting—I’ve been wearing this dress since before you were born and it still fits.”
As she folded the gown into a small trunk, Cinderella hesitated. “Do you think the prince loves her?”
“I think he’s in love with the idea of her,” replied the duchess flippantly, her words echoing Cinderella’s fears. “If she were to return to the ball, I am certain he would propose marriage, but that’s only because George is forcing him to.”
Forcing him to? Cinderella’s ears began to ring uncontrollably, the words repeating over and over in her head. She sucked in a breath to calm herself. “What . . . what do you mean?”
“My brother is the one behind the royal proclamation—and the ball. George is in such a rush for Charles to find a wife that he vowed my nephew would wed