band, the one that proclaimed the love his father had had for his mother. Equal in step, equal in heart. For always.
So why did he refuse to believe it was from her?
Because if she truly left, then she isn’t at all the girl I thought she was.
Clutching the letter tight, Charles rang for Pierre.
“There’s still no word of her, Your Highness,” said his attendant, responding before Charles even asked. It was the sixth time in half an hour that he’d rung for the man. Probably the hundredth time since the ball had abruptly ended the night before.
“Check everywhere. The servants’ quarters, the stables, the coach house . . .”
“We are looking, Your Highness.” Pierre bowed his head. “The Grand Duke has sent his entire staff in search of her. Unfortunately, so far, it appears she has vanished.”
Vanished. For the third time.
Trying to sort out his thoughts, Charles clung to reason. The first time, she had fled at the stroke of midnight, fearing that the enchantment her fairy godmother had cast over her would expire. The second time, she had left the ball because she had feared an encounter with her stepmother and stepsisters.
This time?
I must confess I only pretended to be in love with you to escape the dreary confines of my life with Lady Tremaine.
Charles balled his fists at his side. He still refused to believe it.
“I should have gone after her last night,” he mumbled to himself.
It would not do for you to chase after her, Ferdinand had said. Especially with all the guests here, Your Highness, you must not appear distressed. It would only encourage rumors to spread, and given the uproar caused by Lady Tremaine’s outcry, we must contain any possibility of scandal. Stay with your father; the strain of tonight’s events is not sitting well with him. He has retired to his chambers to rest. Go to him, and allow me to search for the maiden.
He’d been so stunned by Cinderella’s disappearance and worried about his father that he had actually trusted Ferdinand.
This time, he wouldn’t sit idly by. He grabbed his cloak. “Tell my father I won’t be coming to breakfast, and please extend my apologies to my aunt.”
“Wh-wh-where are you going?” Pierre blustered.
“To find her,” replied Charles without stopping. “It’s what I should have done the first time.”
The prince cut through the gardens, headed for the hall where the seamstresses worked. Before he left the palace, there was one person he needed to see.
“Have you seen her?” he asked Louisa in lieu of a greeting. “Cinderella?”
The seamstress’s brows leapt with shock, and she bent into a hasty curtsy. “No, Your Highness. Not since yesterday at the ball. It’s not like her—she’s usually so reliable.”
Charles’s shoulders slumped. He’d thought—he’d hoped that she would have given her friend a clue of where she’d gone. Cinderella had spoken so glowingly of Louisa.
She’s the first friend I’ve had in years, aside from my dog, Bruno, and the mice in my stepmother’s house.
“Louisa, isn’t it?” he said quietly, only now becoming aware that there were dozens of seamstresses trying their hardest to pretend they weren’t listening. “Would you please let my attendant, Pierre, know immediately if you see her?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I will.” Worry etched itself in Louisa’s brow. “I didn’t realize she was missing. You should look for her dog, Bruno—your aunt adopted him, and Cinderella wouldn’t leave without him. If he’s still here, he might be able to find her.”
Bruno! Charles started. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
He touched Louisa’s shoulder, thanking her before he hastily left. “That’s a brilliant idea. Thank you. Thank you, truly.”
But when he reached the duchess’s chamber, there was no sign of Bruno.
“Charles,” Aunt Genevieve greeted him, looking grave. “I was about to send Pierre to look for you. Your father wishes to see you.” She paused. “It’s urgent.”
It appeared Charles wasn’t the only one who had received the king’s summons. Armed with a fountain pen and a scroll, the Grand Duke was already present in King George’s bedchamber. As usual, he looked like he was up to no good.
“In the event that the prince does not make a suitable match,” said Ferdinand, “then I, Grand Duke Ferdinand de Malloy, esteemed protector of Aurelais and trusted adviser to King George, will assume the duties of safeguarding the kingdom. By whatever means necessary.”
“By whatever means necessary,” echoed the king weakly.
“Thank you, sire,” said the duke, taking a pen from the king’s hand. An expression of smug glee grew on Ferdinand’s face, one