“There must be quite a story to go with it,” Lady Tremaine said, dangling the slipper off one finger. “Will you tell me?” Ella shook her head. “Then I will tell you a story. There once was a beautiful young girl, who married for love. She had two loving daughters. All was well. But then her husband, the light of her life, died. The next time, she married for the sake of her children. But this man, too, was taken from her.” She smiled at Ella, but it was a cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And I was doomed to look every day upon his beloved child.”
Lady Tremaine stopped, and for a moment, she and Ella just stared at each other. A part of Ella, the part that had experienced the loss of loved ones, felt for her stepmother. But another part, the part that remembered Lady Tremaine’s cruel treatment, felt no sympathy.
Lady Tremaine went on with her story. “I had hoped to marry off one of my beautiful, stupid daughters to the prince. But his head was turned by a girl with glass slippers. And so...I lived unhappily ever after. And so my story would appear to be ended. Now, tell me yours.” She held up the slipper. “Did you steal it?”
Ella shook her head. “It was given to me.”
“Given to you? Given to you?” Her stepmother let out a cruel laugh. “Nothing is ever given. For everything, we must pay and pay.”
“That’s not true,” Ella said. “Kindness is free. Love is free.”
Anger flashed across Lady Tremaine’s face. “You’re wrong. Love costs us everything.” The slipper swayed under the woman’s finger and Ella watched fearfully. If it fell and broke, she would have nothing to show Kit. As if reading her thoughts, Lady Tremaine told Ella what would happen next.
She, a lady, would vouch for Ella. For after all, who would believe a servant girl with no family was the beautiful “princess” who had stolen the prince’s heart? When Ella and the prince were married, Ella would make Lady Tremaine the head of the royal household and ensure that Anastasia and Drisella were married to wealthy lords. Lady Tremaine would be assured a place in society for the rest of her days, and as head of household, she informed Ella, she would control the palace.
Ella’s hands shook as her stepmother outlined the plan. She had tried with every fiber of her being to put on a brave front in the face of her stepmother’s cruelty. She had tended to all the housework, to every whim and desire of her stepfamily. She had lived in the attic of her own home. She had become Cinderella. She had given up so much. But she was tired of it. She wouldn’t let her stepmother take anything more. “No,” she said.
“No?” Lady Tremaine repeated.
“I will not allow you to ruin the palace the way you have ruined my home,” Ella said. “I was not able to protect my father from you, but I will protect Kit, and the kingdom.”
Lady Tremaine’s eyes narrowed and her cheeks grew red. “So you are courageous to boot. That is a mistake.” Lifting her hand high in the air, she smashed the glass slipper against the wall. It shattered, leaving Lady Tremaine holding a single large shard.
Ella let out a gasp. “Why are you so cruel?” she cried. “I don’t understand. I have tried to be kind, though you do not deserve it. Why do you do it? Why?”
The question seemed to unhinge Lady Tremaine. “Why?” she yelled back. “Because you are young and innocent and good, and I...I...I am not.” Without another word she stormed out, slamming the door and locking it behind her.
Ella rushed over. But she knew it was useless before she even got there. She was trapped. And her stepmother was free to do and say whatever she pleased.
Lady Tremaine wasted no time in doing just that. As soon as she was sure Cinderella couldn’t leave the attic, she brought the shard of slipper to the one person she knew she could count on—the Grand Duke.
“May I ask where you got this?” he inquired when Lady Tremaine showed him the shard.
Lady Tremaine nodded demurely. “From a ragged servant girl in my household,” she answered.
The Grand Duke looked down at the glass, his expression thoughtful.
“And you came straight to me?”
“Of course,” Lady Tremaine answered. “I have heard that you are the most honorable man in the kingdom.”
They exchanged smiles.
“And the girl...”
“Is in a safe place,” she finished.
The man nodded. “You have spared the kingdom from a great deal of embarrassment,” he said.
Lady Tremaine looked pleased. This was just what she had hoped would happen, for now the Grand Duke owed her. When she made that clear, he asked what she wanted. The answer came quickly. “A title for myself,” Lady Tremaine said. “And advantageous marriages for my two daughters.”
“Done,” he agreed. “And the girl?”
“Do with her what you will,” Lady Tremaine said, waving a hand in the air. “She’s nothing to me.”
The Grand Duke tested the sharp point of the shard on his finger. “Well,” he said after a moment, “the young king will take some convincing. He is...willful. But keep this girl out of sight until we may profitably marry him off, and you will get what you desire.”
Lady Tremaine smirked. She would be more than willing to keep Cinderella out of sight—for as long as necessary.
Kit was exhausted. Since his father’s death, he had barely slept, and once he had sent out the proclamation seeking his mystery princess, sleep had been even more elusive. He stared out the window of the throne room. The Captain of the Guard stood nearby, a comforting presence. If only Kit could find the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about...
Hearing footsteps, Kit looked up. The Grand Duke was striding across the room, a barely suppressed smile on his face. Coming to a stop in front of him, the Grand Duke held out a glass shard. Kit recognized it instantly.
“Where...?” he began.
“Abandoned on the side of the road,” the Grand Duke answered.
Kit held the shard in his hand, tracing the edge with his thumb. “And have you found her?”
“No,” the older man said. “She has disappeared.”
“There must be some reason she vanished,” Kit said, refusing to give up all hope. The girl he knew from the woods was strong and courageous. She wouldn’t run away. A dark thought raced through his head. “Perhaps she has been prevented from speaking....”
At the suggestion, the Grand Duke shifted uncomfortably. Kit noticed and was about to press him when the other man spoke, his words a knife to Kit’s heart.
“It pains me to say this, Your Highness, but has it occurred to you that the maiden might not return your feelings?”
He paused, letting the words sink in. “She may see you as our enemies do: the callow, naive princeling of a weak little monarchy. Perhaps...she simply does not love you.”
Kit flinched as though struck. “I knew you were cynical, Grand Duke. I did not know you were cruel.”
“The world is cruel, Your Highness,” the Grand Duke replied. “Not I.”
Until then, the Captain of the Guard had been silent. He was surprised to hear the Grand Duke speak to the young king this way, and he didn’t like it. “Don’t lose heart, Kit,” the Captain said, trying to help.
The Grand Duke shot the Captain a look. “On the contrary,” he said. “Lose heart and gain wisdom. The people need to know that the kingdom is secure. That the king has a queen. They want to face the future with certainty.”
For a moment, Kit was silent, the Grand Duke’s words ringing in his ears. The older man did have a point. But on his deathbed, his father had told him that the only way the Grand Duke could ever rule was for Kit to let him. And Kit was not ready to roll over and give up. Not yet.
“Now I am king,” Kit said. “And I say we must seek out the mystery princess. Even if she does not want to be found. I have to see her again.” His eyes narrowed and he focused his next words directly at the Grand Duke. “That is my command.”
The Grand Duke nodded reluctantly. “As you will, Your Majesty. But if she is not found, then
for the good of the kingdom, you must marry the princess Chelina.” He knew there was no hope of finding the mystery princess. What harm would it do to let the newly crowned king think he was in control?
Kit hesitated. He did not want to marry Princess Chelina. But if agreeing meant he could continue his search for the girl from the woods, he would say what was needed. “Very well. But you will spare no effort.” His fate, his heart, and his kingdom were on the line.
The search began almost immediately. Led by the Grand Duke and the Captain of the Guard, a group set off from the palace. Per Kit’s orders, they were to visit every maiden in the kingdom, whether she was rich or poor. Kit had placed the glass slipper in the Grand Duke’s keeping to be used as a test. If the shoe fit, they had found their mystery princess.
And so it began. They knocked on the doors of large homes where the ladies greeted them with tea in fine china. They knocked on the doors in the humbler part of the village and stood shivering by empty hearths. When every maiden in the town had been seen, the search moved to the countryside. In small inns, women lined up to try their luck or hailed the group as they passed open fields.
Days passed and the search dragged on. But whether the ladies were from the town or the country, their excited reaction was always the same, and so was the outcome. The glass slipper never fit. On some, it was too small. On others, too large. It was too narrow, or too wide. No matter what the complaint, there was no doubt that they had yet to find the mystery princess.
“Enough folly,” the Grand Duke said as he and the Captain rode. It had been weeks and still nothing. The two men were travel weary, their horses’ coats covered in mud, their own clothes dirty and worn. Behind them, the guards followed, equally tired and hopeless. “Not a foot will suit this accursed shoe,” the Grand Duke went on. “Time to head back to the palace, Captain.”
The Captain sighed and turned his horse to go, but catching sight of a house down the road, he paused. “We’re not done yet, Your Grace,” he said, pointing.
Barely glancing in the direction of the Captain’s finger, the Grand Duke waved at the house dismissively. “We have been there already,” he said, agitated.
“We have not, Your Grace,” the Captain said. The Captain was no fool. He had seen the way the Duke barely went through the motions, scoffing at the poorer girls and getting out of houses as quickly as possible. But this was Kit’s future. There was no way the Captain was going to let him down.
The Grand Duke sneered at the Captain but reluctantly nodded. “Very well,” he said. “We can tell His Highness that we have searched every house in the kingdom.” Kicking his horse into a canter, they approached the house.
Unbeknownst to either man, the house was in fact not just a house. It was Ella’s house. And hearing the sound of hoofbeats, Anastasia and Drisella went wild with anticipation.
“Mother!” Anastasia cried from the parlor. “It’s our chance!”
“Let them in!” Drisella shouted.
Unlike her daughters, Lady Tremaine was calm. She knew what would happen. Neither girl was the mystery princess. She was locked up in the attic. Yet her daughters acted as though they actually stood a chance. Not for the first time, she had to wonder how they had become such fools.
Sighing, Lady Tremaine walked to the door and opened it. She was surprised to see the Grand Duke at the head of the search party. There was a brief look of surprise on his face, as well. But then he composed himself and bowed deeply. She curtsied in return. Both pretended they’d never met before.
“A moment of your time, good lady,” the Grand Duke said.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Lady Tremaine replied.
The Grand Duke took out a well-worn scroll and read, for the thousandth time, the proclamation and the command of the king: to try the glass slipper on every maiden in the kingdom until they found the foot it fit. Nodding, Lady Tremaine called to Anastasia and Drisella.
“These are your daughters?” the Grand Duke asked, glancing at the two girls who fidgeted at their mother’s side. Lady Tremaine nodded. “And they are the only maidens in the house?”
“Yes,” Lady Tremaine said, pushing Drisella forward.
Taking the glass slipper off the cushion upon which it had been resting, the Captain of the Guard kneeled in front of Drisella. She lifted the hem of her skirt and began to squeeze her foot into the slipper—until her foot got stuck. The shoe was far too narrow. “How strange,” Drisella said through clenched teeth as she continued to shove her foot inside the slipper. “It fit so well at the ball.” Then, with a yelp, she lost her balance and fell over.
“Enough!” the Grand Duke cried. He motioned to Anastasia.
Just as her sister had done, Anastasia lifted her foot. The Captain slid the slipper on. But where Drisella’s foot had been too wide, Anastasia’s foot was just wide enough. For a brief moment, it looked like it might be a fit. And then everyone saw it: Anastasia’s heel stuck out over the back of the slipper. Her foot was far too big.
The Grand Duke clapped his heels together. “Very well,” he said. “Since there is no other maiden, our task is done.” Then, for it was what he was supposed to say, he added, “The king will be disappointed.”
“Ah, well, it is the way of the world,” Lady Tremaine said, shrugging. She and the Grand Duke shared a barely perceptible nod. “But fate may yet be kind to us.”
“Indeed, madam,” the Duke replied. “You are as wise as you are beautiful.”
With another bow, the Duke and the Captain turned and began to walk to their waiting horses. But as they did so, the Captain heard something. Pausing, he cocked his head and listened. There it was again: the very faint sound of someone singing—a girl singing. Whipping back around, he leveled his gaze at Lady Tremaine. “Madam,” he said, his tone warning. “Are you sure there is no other maiden in your house?”
Up in the attic, Ella was unaware that the Grand Duke and the Captain of the Guard were in the house. She didn’t know that the other glass slipper was being tried on her stepsisters’ feet or that Lady Tremaine and the Grand Duke had a plan in action. Her stepmother might have shattered her chances of ever seeing Kit again when she destroyed the slipper, but Ella wouldn’t let her shatter her happiness.
She sat on her bed and sighed. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry. Instead, she would focus on the good, just as her mother had taught her to do. She would hold on to her memories of Kit and remember the happier times from her childhood. She would think of her mother and father and the love they had given her, and that would keep her warm when winter came. Those thoughts would nourish her when she was hungry. While things had not gone her way, she knew she had kept her promises, and that was enough. It was freeing to let go of the pain and sorrow.
She began to move through the attic, her fingers brushing against the remnants of the toy butterfly, which was now gently laid on her bed. She leaned down and waved hello to Jacqueline and Gus, who twitched their whiskers happily. As she walked, she began to sing her mother’s lullaby. “Lavender’s green, dilly dilly,” she sang, her voice soft and sweet. She approached the door and leaned against it, her voice growing stronger. “Lavender’s blue...You must love me, for I love you.”
In front of the house, the Captain stared at Lady Tremaine. The woman shifted uncomfortably as the singing continued.
“She’s lying, Your Grace,” the Captain said when Lady Tremaine continued to insist there was no one else inside.
“Nonsense,” the Grand Duke snapped. He was tired of this pointless search and tired of the Captain. He grabbed the slipper and shoved it into the hands of a waiting guard. They had done what the king commanded—for the most part. How would Kit ever know they hadn’t seen every maiden?
“Thank you,” the guard said, accepting the slipper, his face hidden in the shadows of the cloak he wore.
The Grand Duke turned to go. But then the guard pulled back his cloak. The Duke gasped. Standing there, a witness to the whole scene, was Kit. “Your H
ighness,” the Grand Duke cried. The other servants immediately bowed, as did the Captain and the other guards. Lady Tremaine’s mouth dropped open as she sank into a curtsy.
(I always did like that Kit. Such a clever boy!)
Ignoring them all, Kit looked up at the house. “What sweet singing,” he said. “It makes me want to tarry just a little. Captain, will you be so good as to investigate?”
The Grand Duke looked back and forth between the king and the Captain. He had been played! Kit had been there all along, watching him and making sure his orders were carried out. And the Captain had helped him! “Your Highness. I did not know,” he said, trying to collect himself.
Kit looked at his friend. “Captain?”
The Captain knew exactly what Kit wanted. Taking Lady Tremaine by the arm, he pulled her toward the house. “Come along, then, madam,” he said.
“It is a dirty servant, Your Highness,” the woman called over her shoulder, dragging her feet. “A cinder girl!”
“He doesn’t care about her station, does he?” the Captain said as they disappeared into the house. “He cares about her foot.”
Ella was still singing when she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock. Her voice trailed off as the door swung open to reveal her stepmother and a man dressed in uniform.
“There,” Lady Tremaine snarled. “No one of importance.”
Ella recognized the man and his kind gaze. He had been in the forest and at the ball. If she remembered correctly, he was the Captain of the Guard—and a friend of Kit’s! Her heart beat faster.
“We’ll see about that,” the Captain said to Lady Tremaine. Then he smiled at Ella. “Miss, you are requested and required to present yourself to the king.”
Ella saw her stepmother’s face turn red with rage. “I forbid you to do this!” Lady Tremaine screamed.
“And I forbid you to forbid her,” the Captain countered. “Who are you to stop an officer of the king? Are you an empress? A saint? A deity?”
“I am her mother,” Lady Tremaine declared.
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