The Wronged Princess - Book I - Page 126/133

Perhaps, if she fainted.

Oh, she was the worst of cowards. No question.

But she wasn't ready. Since Papa's death, she'd been alienated, detested, disliked, and mistreated by both Essie and Pricilla. And now they had formed a … a sisterhood. The three of them. As likely a scenario one might never happen upon a second time.

Wasn't that the perfect fairy tale?

But happy endings of this sort just were not possible. Stepsisters in any tale were the bane of the heroine's very existence. But this new unspoken harmony ruined the story for that scenario. How could she bear to relinquish this new kinship? She actually liked… mayhap even loved them. They were true sisters no matter what Stepmama or the fairy tales of old would have one believe.

Even with Pricilla's wary, critical, and somewhat outspoken characteristics they cared for one another-like real sisters . Certainly, the first barrier had been difficult, but now it felt solid and right. Pricilla would never have put herself between Stepmama and Cinderella, otherwise. The thought of hurting either of them pierced her heart like a flaming arrow.

"Well?" Essie asked. "Cinde?" Essie's tentative tone indicated askance awaiting an answer.

Cinderella hesitated, opened her mouth to say-say what? But, Pricilla, with her typical impatience and matter-of-fact, no-nonsense, calm straightforwardness took care of the matter by plowing over any consideration either she or Essie might have. "Well, I do not see the problem." She snapped her fingers at Kira, Manette's assistant. "Vous, vite!"

The poor thing tripped over her own feet, jumping to Pricilla's command.

"The white shall be quite striking on you, Cinde, with your dark hair and eyes. Why do you hesitate? Quick, we are out of time." Essie said, bustling to Pricilla's commands as well. With a vengeance, Cinderella thought with a scowl. The stays down the back of Essie's dress fell quickly apart.

Cinderella spun about, faced both of them. "I-I want you both to know-" she stopped. Her breath came rapidly. Her head swam with the rush of oxygen. She gulped for air. Her control teetered on a glass edge, ready to shatter. "These…past few days…have been…"

"Cinde, you are blabbering like a fool. Unhook her dress," Essie told Manette.

Oh, heavens, she was hyperventilating. The chamber air swirled over them in a thick fog. She fanned her cheeks with her hands. It was too gauche to ask Essie for a bit of breeze, she supposed. Manette circled behind and tripped the hooks with a blast of irritating speed and proficiency.

Non! She must confess. Cinderella flexed her fingers and forced another deep breath. "These have been the best days in my life since Papa died," she said in a rush. Tears blurred her eyes, clogged her throat. The green silk slid down and Kira clasped her hand, helping her over the sea of emerald folds.