The Wronged Princess - Book I - Page 102/133

"I…I don't know how."

Cinderella had never heard Pricilla panic-and she was the sensible one.

"Wave the blasted thing," Essie commanded.

"Oh, of course." She did. The flowers faded away, leaving behind the scented atmosphere, which appeared somewhat bland in the aftermath. Pricilla stood immobile appearing as stunned as Cinderella felt.

"What…what happened?" Pricilla's voice trembled.

Cinderella had yet to find her own voice. She swallowed hard and could not seem to keep her eyes from the stick in Pricilla's fingers. The thing positively exuded a shimmering effervescent glow.

"I do believe you stick is magic," Essie said, awed.

Pricilla dropped down on the bench beside her. "I do believe you are right."

Essie's curiosity spilled forth. "How does it work?"

There would be no stopping her sisters now, Cinderella realized, and a certain terror gripped her.

"How the devil should I know?" Pricilla said softly. She was clearly still in shock. Bewilderment touching her tone.

"Try something else," Essie said. Her shock had blazed past, straight through to excitement.

"I have no idea what I did in the first place."

"We surely need to take it back," Cinderella squeaked out.

"Do be serious, Cinde. Surely, you are not averse to a little fun?" Essie said, eyes riveted on the object. The blasted thing had her mesmerized.

Someone had to do something, Cinderella thought, panic rising. Oh, this was a nightmare. What if the stick belonged to-

"What did you do that for?" Essie cried. "Ow! My shoe is getting too snug."

"Oh, Ess, I'm sorry. Truly, I am. I just had a fleeting thought that if your feet were the same size as mine and pointed the stick…Oh, Essie-" Pricilla gasped.

Cinderella felt almost sorry for Pricilla. Her horrified expression made clear her intention was not to make Essie's foot less dainty. But, heavens, the size of her foot changed! That stick could only belong to one person, and they needed to return it. Without delay.

"Pricilla!" Cinderella said sternly. "Come. Now." She spun on her heel without waiting for either of them. Newly embraced or not, she strode up the path, praying they'd have sense enough to follow; they had to return that stick.

"I will not return it. Not just yet," Pricilla called after Cinderella. "If this thing can adjust the size of one's foot, just imagine the other possibilities."

Cinderella froze in her tracks. She'd never be able to stand up to the both of them. She would just have to confiscate the thing in secret and return it herself. If Fairy Godmother got wind of this…well, it was bad enough she'd lost her shoe, but to have stolen her magic stick? 'Twas inconceivable.