The Wronged Princess - Book I - Page 6/133

Cinderella froze. "No...nothing, Stepmama."

"You seem almost-giddy," Stepmama accused in her nasal and high pitched grate. She leaned closer, her beaked nose almost touching Cinderella's. "Scrape those cobwebs from your hair. If I did not know better I would say glitter covered your head." She paused as if considering such a possibility, then a loud cackle burst forth.

Again Cinderella swallowed, quashing the temptation to confess it was glitter.

"Oui, Stepmama." Cinderella glanced around for something, anything to redirect Stepmama's attention. "Tea. May I get you tea, Madame?"

Stepmama appeared to consider it for a moment, then, hissed, more like, "Non. But my feet do desire a soaking. Fetch water for my tired and aching limbs." Cinderella knew an escape when one presented itself.

"Oui, Stepmama. Right away."

Stepmama dropped her massive frame into the one comfortable chair in the room and shifted her unnerving attention to Esmeralda. Shudders skittered down Cinderella's spine. "Stop that incessant blinking at once. How am to I ever marry you off with that repulsive twitch?" Cinderella slipped through the cottage door to fetch the pail of water, Stepmama's bellowing screech pealing against the walls.

Once beyond sight Cinderella bent and shook out her long dark hair out where, indeed, shiny particles floated like magic dust to the ground in a shimmering shower of sparkles, grinning.

*****

Prince Charming of Chalmers Kingdom reclined atop red velvet coverlets on his royal bed. Arms folded behind his head, he crossed one shiny booted ankle over the other and contemplated the disastrous results of the ball.

Candlelight flickered, casting shadows on the walls that competed with a roaring fire in the grate. His memory regenerated the surprising miracle of the ball. A ball his Maman had insisted upon to facilitate his finding of a bride.

A bride for which he'd had no desire-until now. Ten and nine was much too young for marriage. Even for an heir apparent. Modern men married much older these days. The temptation to enlighten Maman dissipated when a vision in creamy ivory silk floated before him, searing his memory.

Spellbinding beauty had appeared atop the grandiose staircase, far above the ballroom. Her path blazed with the light of a thousand candles. She'd needed no introduction. He'd been stymied from the moment he'd set eyes on her. And he hadn't been the only one.

Stunned silence rumbled through the ballroom just before buzzing snippets rippled around as he made his way to her.

"Who is she?" They'd breathed.

"Where did she come from?" They'd whispered.

"Such a beauty," they'd murmured.

Star-struck gazes riveted their attention. But they focused, not on him. Non. 'Twas an unusual sensation. Mouth dry, he tried to swallow. But nothing short of death could tear his eyes from the white velvet-trimmed gown, bare shoulders accentuating a graceful neck but for the sliver of a delicate gold chain adorned by a single teardrop diamond.