Cinderella made a wide skirt around Esmeralda, maintaining a reasonable distance. Stepmama was already suspicious of their newfound, albeit tentative, relationship. Cinderella was encouraged, however, by their managed occasional eye contact, even catching an amused twitch of Esmeralda's lips now and again. Her eyes never fluttered once.
Stepmama shot a glare in Esmeralda's direction. Having included Cinderella as a sister did not serve in Stepmama's grand scheme of things, and Cinderella was terrified in how Esmeralda would pay for the efforts on Cinderella's behalf.
She paused before the last picture. The artist had portrayed Prince somewhere in the vicinity of his fourteenth year, having cleverly captured the mischievous glint about the mouth and eyes. Not unlike what she'd witnessed earlier that morning. The unruly black hair hung over his brow in its current familiar fashion.
Unlike the other portraits in the gallery where subjects were featured in straight-backed chairs and a dark background, this painting presented her prince outdoors with a dog dutiful hound at his feet. She smiled. His grace and nobility were evident, even at that young age.
Smiling, her hand drifted over her chest. She felt he could see right into her heart. Silence filled the room before, she registered Esmeralda's puzzled gaze from the corner of her eye, then met Stepmama's calculating one. Cinderella dropped her hand abruptly and meandered among the other portraits. The burn of Pricilla's ice cold ire prickled her skin. She would not sleep tonight.
Queen Thomasine talked on. She smiled fondly at Prince's portrait. "Once my son marries, a new portrait shall be commissioned, of course, to hang in this gallery. And one of his new bride." Her gaze fell on Esmeralda, whose eyes began their wild flicker. The small updraft in the high-ceilinged chamber was unmistakable. Poor Esmeralda.
The queen shifted her attention to Cinderella. "I am overjoyed to see you feeling better, my dear. You shall join us for supper tonight then." It was not a request.
The gallery was suffused by Stepmama's anger. 'Twas a wonder the mythical gods did not erupt in a violent blast of red heat fueled by the brisk gust of Esmeralda's eyes. "If you are certain you are amiable, Darling?" Menace poured from her.
Cinderella opened her mouth to reply but the queen stepped forward forestalling any response.
"Of course you are, dear." She patted Cinderella's shoulder. "Now, I refuse to hear another word about it. My dinners are a family requirement."
Cinderella closed her mouth feeling oddly protected by Queen Thomasine's manner. She'd never be able to repay the queen's kindness.
No matter what the future held.