So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,76
start talking about magic. Be happy, and keep yourself safe. Do not interfere.”
“But Fairy Godmother, I—”
The grandfather clock at the end of the hall began to chime, cutting off Cinderella’s reply. She glanced back, making sure no one else had entered the hall.
They were still alone, but when Cinderella turned back, the painting had gone still.
“I’m going to help you,” she promised.
Charles was waiting for her in the glass conservatory before the garden entrance. He started when their gazes met, lurching slightly forward and nearly tripping over his shoes. Cinderella chuckled, and the prince’s eyes filled with mirth.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she began. Her voice trailed as she remembered what Lenore had said about his mother. She wanted to ask him about magic, but Lenore’s warning to be careful was fresh on her mind. She’d wait until they were outside of the palace and out of range of the duke, with his “ears” everywhere.
“I got a little sidetracked in the gallery.”
“And here I thought Aunt Genevieve was the one keeping you,” Charles teased.
“She did give me a few extra chores,” said Cinderella, grateful when he didn’t ask if she had told the duchess yet that she was his intended bride. “I don’t think she’s very happy with me right now—I brought her the wrong type of tea three times.”
She blushed sheepishly, and as his smile widened, her stomach gave a pleasant flutter. She smiled back at him. “I guess my mind was somewhere else.”
“I’ve become quite familiar with the feeling,” confessed Charles, gesturing at his clothes. “I might have put this shirt on backward twice today.”
“You?” she said playfully. “I assumed you had a valet who dressed you. Maybe two.”
“Since the day I was born,” replied Charles in a serious tone.
“Really?”
“No.” He chuckled. “I am quite capable of dressing myself. Sometimes, I worry it’s the only thing I’ll be capable of.”
Though he tried to hide it, a note of melancholy colored the prince’s last words.
“You sound worried,” said Cinderella softly.
“I am,” Charles murmured. “So much has changed. It’s funny, the thought of one’s parents getting old. When we’re children, they worry so about us. Now I feel like things have reversed, and soon I’ll be expected to take on his responsibilities. I don’t know if I’m ready.”
Before Cinderella could reply, Charles brightened and gestured at the garden doors. “But we’ve lingered here long enough. Come, there’s so much I want to show you.”
“Where are the guards?” asked Cinderella. She’d been nervous about coming to this part of the castle, half expecting the guards wouldn’t permit her outside. But she hadn’t come across a single one.
“I dismissed them. As of today, anyone in the palace is welcome to enjoy the gardens.”
Cinderella’s eyes widened. “Do you mean that?”
“By royal decree of the crown prince.” With a flourish, Charles stepped aside, revealing a new sign he’d posted on the glass door.
“ ‘By royal command,’ ” Cinderella read, “ ‘every person in the palace, whether a member of the royal household, a guest of His Majesty the King, or a retainer of the crown, hereby shall be permitted access to the royal gardens.’ ” She clasped her hands, mustering her enthusiasm. “It’s very nice.”
But something was still missing, and it showed on her face.
“What is it?” asked the prince.
“Every person in the palace,” she repeated. “Why not anyone in Aurelais—or anyone at all?”
“Surely not anyone can walk into the palace,” said Charles, confused.
“Valors doesn’t have a public garden,” Cinderella explained, “and the palace . . . one of the reasons I dreamed of going to the ball was because I spent all my life staring up at it. Opening the gardens would give everyone a glimpse of the palace—of their ruler. Even if it was just part of the garden.”
“You have a point. I’ll bring it up with my father—how is that?”
Her smile widened, and that was all the response he needed.
Taking the prince’s outstretched arm, Cinderella stepped through the double doors into the gardens. It was nearly sundown, and a soft glow bathed the flowers.
“This way,” Charles said, gesturing at a wooden bridge over a pond. “When do you have to be back?”
“To the duchess?” Cinderella repeated. “I hope she doesn’t mind my telling you her naps are usually an hour long.”
“Then that’s just enough time.”
“For?”
“A surprise,” replied the prince, guiding her through a garden of fluted lilies. Across the lilies was a pond, its waters a vibrant green from reflecting the trees around it. In the center of the pond