Fractured Slipper

by Adrienne Monson

  “Yes, Sister. She ruined it all.” Ophelia crowed and waved her hand in the air flippantly. “All our happiness perished like a summer storm. I never imagined Mother’s luck would fade three times and her marriage to the richest tradesman in the kingdom would end up leaving us destitute once again. After overhearing the last debtor come to take all but the last hundred pieces of our gold, I ran from the house into the woods to get away for a few hours to think.”

  A thought popped into my head. I remembered Ophelia disappearing a few weeks ago. Lilith was furious and the fight they had after she returned could’ve been heard by the dead. I wondered where she’d gone.

  “While in those woods I met someone who would fix our problems. The price seemed worth the prize.”

  I couldn’t hold back, the word just flew from my lips

  “Who?”

  Ophelia eyes shined and a Cheshire grin drew across her mouth from cheek to cheek.

  Chapter 11

  True Confessions

  “Commander Drake and I have been seeing each other in secret for quite some time now. I’d told him about our tragic past and the destitute circumstances we were living in. When I cried to him about the debtors, he promised he would help us. I knew if I could get close to him and get him to trust me, I could use him to get to the prince and in turn the means to save us from poverty. I did him some little favors and he’s convinced we’ve grown quite close.

  The thought of Ophelia with that man made my skin crawl.

  “Commander Drake eventually told me about what kind of a person our new father was. He regaled the story of his adolescence and how the attention of the one girl who’d loved him from childhood was unjustly stolen by a foreigner whose family settled in Wallachia. He also told me how you went to Prince Greyson’s rescue that day at the castle and he’d seized the opportunity to get even with the man who robbed him of his happiness. I was angry with him at first for taking his life, but soon realized he only did us a favor. With your father out of the way, I had a chance to go for a bigger purse.”

  I squeezed my fists, digging my fingernails into the soft flesh of my palms, loathing growing ever deeper for her and the commander.

  “I asked him about Prince Greyson, curious now to find out about how to get close to him. The commander complained that he kept talking about this mystery girl who helped him that day. How he was obsessed with finding her. After the prince talked the king into having a ball to find this girl, I realized I had to step in and do something about it. After all, I’d endured my time with the commander only to get to Prince Greyson, and I couldn’t have you getting in the way.”

  She retrieved a box from under of her chair and pulled out the glass slippers.

  “My slippers? You were the woman who gave them to the footman?” An assortment of emotions churned inside me. I wanted to rip her head off.

  Ophelia smirked and dangled the good slipper from her finger. “Not just pretty little spoiled girls like you have fairy godmothers—or at least commanders who know the town witch.”

  I stared at the ugly, horse-faced girl looking down at me, amazement at the sheer audacity and resourcefulness she’d managed. Ophelia had never been nice to me, but the hollowness of her wretched heart, the lengths she went to in order to construct such an elaborate plan genuinely shocked me. I wondered what it had truly cost her to meddle with dark magic.

  “You said the prize was worth the price. What was the price? I was already your slave. I have no money, I’ve lost both my parents and have nothing, just like you used to.” I questioned.

  A loud voice behind her shouted at us. “I can tell you.”

  “Greyson,” I whispered. Hot tears filled my eyes, and I finally let them fall. Sobs choked in my throat. I was both overwhelmed with relief he was okay and racked with such horrible guilt at getting him involved in the terrible situation.

  “The slippers have reset the time loop so many times the past few days. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in this attic. There are things you don’t remember that I do. Ophelia sold her soul to that witch. She realized she was never going to get close to me, or my money, through Commander Drake. After I announced the ball to look for you, she had that demoness create the magic slippers for insurance. But she couldn’t get it to work, because something happened to me on the road that day you helped me. I’d already begun to love you. The magic wasn’t able to erase the feelings I already had. Reliving day after day has just proven that true love like this endures.”

  Ophelia’s face flushed red. She gripped her knife and stood, throwing the chair backward. She stalked toward Greyson. “I will have your money one way or another. I refuse to live in squalor anymore, refuse to suffer and endure another move to another town. If my stupid mother can’t find or keep a decent man to provide for us, I’m going to have to do it. Clearly, no matter how many times I’ve tried to keep you two apart, you’re drawn to each other. No matter how many balls those slippers reset, you end up together. So, I’m going to have to do something to change that.”

  Ophelia walked behind Greyson. She grabbed a handful of hair, yanked his head back, and jabbed the point of the knife into his throat. She stared straight at me and smirked. “I realized that as long as one of you is still alive, I can reset the day but it will still end up the same. If you’re dead, then I can start over.” She looked down into Greyson’s face. “I can work on your father instead. Then I won’t have to worry about this little kismet between you and my worthless, pitiful stepsister.”

  “Leave him alone,” I choked, my throat constricted from the successive sobs. Greyson tried to pull his head away but she punctured his neck. He yelled out. Bright red blood pulsed out of his neck, soaking his white linen shirt and the royal sash hugging his shoulder.

  “No! Greyson!” I screamed.

  Ophelia examined the blood dripping from the end of her blade. “I told you. Love is false, will never stay. The only man worth salt is the one who will pay. Well, love can’t stay now, and the prince will surely pay. So, I guess in the end he was worth his salt, just like I thought he’d be. It won’t take long now. I’ve severed his artery. I’m going to make you watch him die. I doubt it will be as tortuous as having to watch you two gallivanting and flirting at the ball over and over again, but I truly hope so. Then, you’re next. Midnight is almost here, and a new day will start.”

  “Ophelia, what are you doing?” yelled Gisella. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “I told you last time, I was going to do whatever it took to fix this.”

  I turned to Gisella, pleading, “Gisella, help me get the slippers back on. We need to reset the day. Help me, please. I’m begging you. Help me save the prince.”

  My stepsister stared down at me from her chair, her face the color of newly fallen snow. Strawberry blonde locks hung in strings across her cheeks and forehead. She looked frazzled, confused. “But you broke them, Ella. They’re not working right. Ophelia’s never taken it this far. I don’t know what will happen if you reset the day.”

  “Please, Gisella. Ophelia’s gone mad. She’s killing him. She’s going to kill me. You have to help me stop this!”

  Ophelia crept forward, the point of the bloody knife sticking straight out.

  “If you try to put those slippers on her, I slit your throat too, Gisella. I told you, I’m fixing this. And I’ll do it with or without you.”

  Gisella stood to face Ophelia.

  “How dare you threaten me. I’m going to get Mother. She’ll put a stop to this. You’ve gone too far.”

  Ophelia charged her and sunk the blade into her gut. Gisella’s eyes widened. She fell backward, collapsing on the floor next to me. Shock reverberated through me, and my sobs stopped. Ophelia turned and stared daggers at me, blood dripping from her hand. I scrambled on the floor away from her but struggled to move farther than a few feet with both my hands and feet tied. She lunged at me. I kicked out, slamming her in the stomach. She doubled over and toppled backwar
d.

  I struggled to reach the glass slippers on the floor next to the chairs, seeing Ophelia squirming, trying to roll over and get back on her feet. Blood pounded in my ears as I worked the rope on my hands, trying to free myself. Gisella groaned next to me and reached out. “Let me help . . . you.”

  I cinched over to her and felt her fingers working the knot over. The grip on my wrists loosened. I was free. I hurried to untie the rope around my ankles.

  Ophelia got to her knees and whipped her head over at us. She growled and got to her feet. I launched forward, trying to grab the slippers, but she kicked them away. I grabbed her leg and yanked it hard. She teetered and stepped sideways to regain her balance but tripped over Gisella’s chair and went crashing into the floor again. The knife clanged as it skidded across the floor. Ophelia lay still, not moving.

  The clock began to strike once more.

  Midnight.

  I clambered up and inspected Greyson. His face was pale, his head lolled forward. The entirety of his shirt and sash soaked clear through with dark blood. Gisella lay in a pool of her own scarlet blood, her eyes closed.

  The clock continued to chime it last strokes. I had seconds left. I ran for the scattered slippers. I didn’t know if they would work now they were fractured and damaged, but I had to take the chance. To save Greyson and Gisella. To make things right again.

  I shoved the broken slipper on my right foot. Sharp pain seared inside of my skull. I made to grab my head but jerked against the restraints. White light strobed. My eyelids fluttered. Scenes from the events of the past few days looped in rapid spurts. The ball. The blue ball gown. The swing. The slipper. The mysterious figures. Town square. Commander Drake, Ophelia, Gisella. The attic. Greyson. Blood. Over and over and over. The pressure inside my head grew until I thought it would explode.

  I fought it, reached for the other slipper and slid my toes into it just as the last stroke of midnight struck. Every nerve in my body surged, pitching in pain so excruciating it stole my breath. Then a wave of euphoria came over me like the time between sleep and a dream. The memories inside my mind slowed into what looked like a long rectangular mosaic, then shattered into a thousand pieces.

  Chapter 12

  Fractured Time

  “Ella, how do you like your new sketchbook and pastel chalks?”

  Father looked back at me from the driver’s seat, his playful eyes dancing, anticipating my answer. It was quite odd, I felt like we’d been here before.

  “Well?” he said, a little uncertainty in his tone.

  Confused, but not wanting to hurt his feelings, I spoke, “I love them, Father. Of course, I love them.”

  My arms and legs felt as light as a feather, as if we were only floating above the seat, not sitting on the cushion. The thoughts inside my mind swirled around—blurry and unclear. I tried to focus on something but it tired me. I closed my eyes, feeling the carriage underneath me rocking back and forth. The horses clip-clopped in a steady cadence for only a few minutes, then slowed and stopped. I opened my eyes and turned to see we were in front of the royal castle.

  “I need only just a few minutes to speak with King Francis. This new assignment seems fairly typical. Just a jaunt over to Britannia and back. Try out the new chalks. The king’s grounds seem especially colorful this spring. I’ll bet you can make an impressive landscape sketch.”

  I nodded, blankly staring across the grounds, working to focus my mind. That name sounded familiar.

  Britannia. Britannia.

  “Stay here and watch the horses, I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Father winked at me, then turned and sauntered through the scrolled wrought iron gate. I closed my eyes again. A feeling of foreboding vibrated inside of me, as if something were about to happen, yet I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  I heard someone shouting in the distance. I peeked out of the window and my new box of chalk tumbled to the carriage floor. The sight of the broken chalk made me lightheaded. I’d seen this pattern of broken chalk before in a long-ago dream. I opened the door and a stick of bright yellow chalk rolled out into the road. Feeling I shouldn’t but being drawn to it, I stepped out of the carriage and wandered into the road to retrieve it. As I bent over to pick up the chalk, chaotic sounds and shouts echoed behind me.

  “Whoa, Macadamis! Whoa, boy.”

  I stood and watched dazed as Prince Greyson flew wildly at me on an enormous Windsor Grey, pulling the reins and shouting commands. When the horse saw me in the middle of the road, he reared backward, tossing the prince onto the road, then bolted past me in a blur. The thoughts inside my head still swirled but were beginning to become clear. I remembered that horse. I remembered the prince falling to the ground.

  “Prince Greyson,” I shouted and hurried to his side. A sizable crescent-moon-shaped gash gaped open above his left eye, spilling precious crimson blood down his taut cheekbones. I scrambled to tear off the hem of my dress, wadded it up in a ball, then knelt by the prince’s side and held it fast to his bleeding head.

  The prince groaned and rolled his head back and forth.

  “It’s going to be okay. Stay still. Shh, stay still.”

  He stopped moving his head and opened his eyes. The bright green of his irises mesmerized me as if they were a spinning hypnotic tool. He reached up and caressed my lips. “I remember you,” he whispered, his tongue sitting on his top teeth, breathing out the syllable slowly. Then he leaned up, opened his mouth, and deeply kissed me.

  The memories swirling in my head focused hard and came crashing into the forefront all at once. Father’s death. Lilith, Ophelia, Gisella. Anjelina. The gown. The many balls. The slippers. Ophelia stabbing Prince Greyson and Gisella. Watching them both die. The images flipped before my eyes like a picture book, then the book closed.

  Time fractured, bringing us all back into the past.

  And saved us.

  We both pulled away from the kiss at the same time. The surprise and shock I felt reflected back at me in his eyes.

  “Ella.” He cupped his hand on my cheek.

  “Greyson,” I whispered.

  Then I leaned down, kissed him again with fevered passion, and melted into his strong arms.

  Chapter 13

  No Time Like the Present

  No matter how many times the sun rose and set, the joy of having Greyson at my side never ceased to enchant me. In the cold of last winter, we danced and kissed as the snowflakes melted on our lips. I heard his charismatic laugh ride in upon the breeze as it tickled the amber leaves of fall, and I saw his adoring face reflect the sun when we rode through the spring meadows today.

  I love him so much.

  From the balcony of our bedroom, I gazed down at the newly planted gardens across the royal grounds, bathing in the rose and gold rays of the setting sun, and put the finishing sweeps on my landscape sketch with the last nubs of my pink and yellow chalk.

  I watched Greyson fencing with my father, and I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Father insisted he could take him without any training. I noticed he was having to eat his words.

  After that day on the road all our memories from the fractured slipper returned. Father asked King Francis to banish Lilith and Gisella, and he’s taken up residence in the castle. Greyson immediately removed Commander Drake from the royal guard and had him imprisoned after he led him to the witch who supplied him with the cursed glass slippers. Greyson never mentioned what he and the king did with her or Ophelia, and I never asked.

  King Francis held a magnificent ball to celebrate our engagement the following week. After Greyson pushed me on the swing for a great while, we actually got to finish our dance in the secret garden. All the surrounding kingdoms came together for our grand wedding one month later. Anjelina stood by my side as my lady-in-waiting, and I vowed to become his Ella forever. The time I’ve spent with Greyson has been the happiest time of my life. His gracious kindness and tender love reflect his true royal nature, and we share a kindred
friendship of love and respect.

  Today marked our one year anniversary, and I had a very big surprise for him. I set my easel aside, brushed the chalk off my skirt, then leaned over the balcony.

  “Greyson, Father, come inside. I have a gift for both of you.”

  Greyson waved in acknowledgment, and I went back into my room to wash the chalk off my fingers. My hands were shaking so bad I could hardly get the soap off them. Butterflies whipped like a cyclone around the lining of my stomach. I was so nervous I could hardly breathe. I paced the room, biting my lip in anticipation, sweat beading on my forehead.

  “Ella.” Greyson walked in and headed straight for me. “You look so nervous. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I laughed, a little louder than I meant to. He smiled and laughed too, then raised his left eyebrow and stared at me with those bright green eyes.

  “You said you have an anniversary gift for both me and your father? Will you give me a hint or shall we wait for him? As long as it’s not a pair of magic glass slippers, I’ll be happy.”

  We both chuckled.

  “Well, it was hard to think of what to get for you since you’re a prince and you have everything you always wanted.”

  Greyson blushed.

  “Since I have you, that’s true. I do have everything I want.”

  I walked up to him and took his hands in mine. “Well, I have something special that I’m sure you don’t already have.”

  I pressed his palms against my stomach. His eyes grew to the size of a tea saucer, and his jaw gaped wide in surprise.

  “Happy anniversary, Greyson.”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Angela Brimhall grew up trying to decide whether she liked romance or horror novels best. She graduated college with a BS degree in health, but decided she'd much rather experience the drama of life through her characters. She received an MFA in English and creative writing from Southern New Hampshire University and is a member of the Sigma Tau Delta English Honors Society, Romance Writers of America and Horror Writers Association. She lives in the heart of a city between two mountains with her husband, son and four dogs where spired castles dot every hill and fairy tales really do come true.