A Cinderella Retelling

by E. L. Tenenbaum

  The princess studied me a little more. “What’s your name?”

  “Ella, Your Highness” I replied.

  “Ella,” the princess repeated.

  More silence, then slowly the princess nodded. “I won’t tell him,” she said, “but I won’t lie if he asks.”

  “Thank you, Princess,” I said, and I meant it.

  She slipped the mirror back to wherever she’d brought it from, then absently patted my shoulder. “The mirror can only answer one type of question,” she informed me offhandedly, as if that knowledge wouldn’t have affected the entire conversation until now. “Now we must pretend like we are having a lovely time,” she said with a glittering smile, adding in a small laugh for good measure.

  I could scarcely process what had just occurred. The princess had just tricked me into revealing intimate details about myself and now she was treating me like her closest friend. I didn’t know what to do with myself, but I knew I would have little help from the others in the box. So I turned back to the arena where we watched the prince decidedly beat his foe, then rose to my feet with the rest of the crowd to cheer his heroics. The prince raised his arms triumphantly in the air, and the noise only grew louder. I’ll admit to feeling a slight surge of pride seeing him there, strong, graceful, and undefeated.

  The prince bowed once more to his father and then turned to leave the arena. In so doing, he pivoted close to his opponent then stepped over him to exit. Had I not been watching him so intently, I would have missed the way the knight winced when the prince walked away from him, only registering later that the prince had stepped on his hand on the way out.

  “I really wish he wouldn’t do that,” Princess Lyla muttered, more to herself than to me. I wasn’t even sure that’s what she’d said.

  The knight was led from the arena as another two entered. They both looked to be knights of the kingdom, but when the second one again received a greater cheer than the first I looked closer. That soft brown hair, those discerning eyes: the captain. I ducked my head before my gaze strayed any more across his exposed torso.

  I turned my attention back to the princess beside me, hoping she hadn’t noticed, and thought of the trick she’d pulled with the mirror. My initial awe of her burned off in a simmer of annoyance. So emboldened, I dared asked, “Why be here, if you so disdain all this?”

  Princess Lyla shook her head, unfazed at my impertinence. “Alex wrote to ask if I’d ever seen or heard of a lady like you, and I was too intrigued not to come. I agreed to find out what I could.”

  “But you can’t tell,” I said quickly, hoping her promise to keep my secret still stood.

  “So you must tell me something about yourself that I can,” she countered directly. “What are some things you like to do?”

  “Like to do?” I repeated dumbly.

  The thought of doing something, anything simply because I enjoyed it had become foreign to me. I couldn’t very well tell her that I liked to live within my fantasy, that it was the only place I was ever really safe and somewhat happy. I dug through the stores of my memory; surely there was something there befitting the behaviors of a lady.

  The roar of the crowd tried to pull me from my thoughts, but I refused to look at the arena. Not even to see if the man who’d once helped me gather my boxes by the side of a well was winning. Instead, I forced myself to think of my childhood, to think of a time before Madame had beaten me down.

  “Drawing,” I finally said. “I’ve a fair talent for it.”

  “Do you?” the princess seemed genuinely interested. “Are you very good at it?”

  “I haven’t had much time for it in a while,” I admitted, “only to help my stepsisters with their cosmetics.”

  “Oh,” the princess’s lip curled into a disdainful sneer, “there are others.”

  The crowd cheered again, and this time I did allow myself to look. The knight was on the ground and the captain stood above him. He bowed to the king then briefly raised a fist in triumph to the delight of the crowd. He turned back to his opponent and offered him a hand up. Clinging to his dignity, the man refused, forcing himself to stand without assistance. When he did, the captain offered his hand again, and the knight clasped it in a brief gesture of mutual respect. Both left the arena without a backward glance.

  “My sisters treat me as Madame does, but I don’t think they are as bad as her,” I rushed to explain, turning back to our conversation so my thoughts wouldn’t dwell too long on the captain’s considerate behavior. “They didn’t have a very good example to follow.”

  The princess sniffed at that. “Are they here, too?”

  “Would you like to meet them? They’d be in fits to meet a real princess.”

  The offer slipped out before I could stop it, but there was something about the princess that loosened my tongue. Maybe because she was the only one who knew the truth about me, and there was real relief in that. Or maybe I just wanted her to see the family that had created the girl in the mirror, so she would understand the need for a mask. Either way, it was a few long seconds, which felt like hours, before she nodded her head.

  “The day’s already odd,” she allowed.

  We watched the rest of the events with half an eye. By then, the sun was visibly lower in the sky, and I glanced at it nervously, willing it to slow its path. I was too anxious to watch the performing acrobats or the group of knights chasing a lion back into its cage. Time was short and none of it interested either of us. Even before all was done, the princess motioned for me to stand up and follow her down the steps and out of the box.

  We passed by the king’s raised seat on our way, and we both stopped to drop him a curtsy. The king beckoned Princess Lyla forward, and she stepped up to kiss her uncle-of-a-sort on his cheek. The king gestured toward me and the princess leaned down to tell him something I couldn’t hear. Even if she’d said it loud enough, I doubt I would’ve heard anything above the pounding of my heart in my ears. I couldn’t believe I was standing before the king. I couldn’t believe he had motioned toward me, that he noticed me among all these beautiful, eligible women.

  Behind him, Sir Percival kept his ever-astute gaze upon me, eyeing me suspiciously until the princess retook my arm and led me away. She reddened his cheeks with a flirtatious wave, but that did not stop his gaze from boring into me as we went to seek out my stepsisters.

  “What did the king ask?” I wanted to know.

  “He was just inquiring after you,” the princess said with a reassuring smile. “I told him you were a new friend of mine.”

  “Not very specific,” I said, wondering if she would dare lie to a king.

  I felt the princess shrug. “Until the prince decides he wants to marry you, the king need press no further.”

  “Marry me!” I exclaimed, stopping in my tracks.

  The princess tugged me forward. “It’s what these events are about, after all,” she calmly reminded me, “for Alex to find a wife.”

  Suddenly, I couldn’t speak. What if the prince decided he wanted to marry me? What if he didn’t? Would our time together mean anything if he didn’t choose me? And if he did, how would I explain to him who I really was? Could I escape my home and come to the palace without giving anything away? I doubted it. Did I even want to marry the prince? What a question!

  Once away from the arena, the princess led the way toward the long tables of food and refreshments set up all along the grassy fields. Guests lingered all about and I kept my eyes alert for my stepsisters, trying to find their familiar dresses in a sea of dresses that swallowed them up in imitation of mine from the masquerade.

  Then there they were, right as we came upon the last of the champagne fountains. Maybelle’s and Calliope’s faces were flushed from drink, or because they both dangled on the arms of young lords who were smiling at them with adoring eyes.

  “Good afternoon,” I greeted them, painfully aware of the shadows from the sun blending into dusk as the sky bled color above us.

&nbs
p; At the sound of my voice, both swiveled to stare wide-eyed at me. Then their gaze shifted to the princess, her tiara, and back to me.

  “It’s lovely to see you again, Ladies Maybelle and Calliope,” I continued.

  I said their names more for Princess Lyla’s benefit, but the effect on them was well worth it. Calliope flushed, and Maybelle’s lips worked like a fish, trying to form words that wouldn’t come out.

  “She knows our names,” she finally managed to sputter in unabashed awe.

  “This is the prince’s cousin, Princess Lyla,” I introduced, and the two dropped into curtsies that would make Madame proud.

  “I do hope you’re enjoying yourselves,” Princess Lyla said to them, amusement playing at the corners of her lips.

  Knowing what she was capable of, I wondered if perhaps it wasn’t the best of ideas to introduce them to her. She’d quite easily managed to extract everything about me, and I couldn’t imagine what she would do to them, knowing how they, and their mother, treated me.

  I was saved from further worry by the song of a voice I would slay the fiercest dragon for. “There you are!” the prince, unfortunately now fully dressed, called. He removed my hand from the princess’s and took it in his. A significant look passed between them, which I knew had something to do with a talk about me later.

  “I’ve nearly had to chase you across the whole island,” he admonished.

  “His Highness is surely capable,” I replied sweetly. “As today’s victory evidenced.”

  The prince beamed at me. “All for you, my lady,” he genially admitted, brandishing the feather from my hat.

  Maybelle and Calliope giggled at the sugary words, but I hardly heard them. There was nothing for me in this world so long as those wonderful, clear-blue-sky eyes locked on mine.

  “I brought you these,” the prince added, presenting me with two small flower confections, perfect white lilies decorated with pink and yellow at their tips.

  “Lilies,” Princess Lyla said, her voice indicating pleasure at seeing those particular flowers.

  “They’re lovely,” I breathed.

  I took them from him, and for reasons still unknown to me, looked up to find one of my squirrel footmen at the doors leading back into the palace. I don’t know how he found me, but I did know he only risked it for one reason.

  I was dangerously close to overstaying the magic. It was time to go. Now.

  “Here,” I said, thrusting the two flowers into my gaping stepsisters’ hands. I turned to the startled prince and pressed his hand in mine. “Thank you so much for such a wonderful afternoon, Your Highness,” I said, already hurrying away. I smiled at Princess Lyla. “It was an honor to meet you, Princess.”

  “But, but, you can’t leave,” the prince sputtered. “Not again.”

  “I’m so sorry, I must go.” I lifted my skirts so I could run away faster. I couldn’t resist one backward glance. “My charming prince.”

  “I won’t let you! Not this time,” he called, lunging for my hand and almost slipping off my glove.

  But I was too fast for him. I ran across the grass, burst into the palace, and was already rushing down the hallway, just a few feet from the main doors when I heard his footsteps in close pursuit.

  “Captain!” he cried. “My horse, your horse, now!”

  More footsteps joined his, but I didn’t waste time turning around. To this day, I still don’t know how my tiny feet were able to outrun so many grown men, and soldiers at that.

  I rushed down the carpeted steps and leaped into the open door of my carriage, not even bothering to be helped in by my footmen. The coachman cracked his whip the moment I was in, and I scrambled to close the door even as the squirrel-men ran to catch up to the fleeing horses. Two dull thumps told me they’d made it, though it scarcely mattered. They would be turned back into squirrels in the next few minutes, and it didn’t matter then who saw them.

  We had already made it over the bridge and onto the main road of the capitol, when I realized that some of the horses’ hooves I was hearing were not from my own carriage. Daring to peek behind me, I saw soldiers chasing after us. They must have had the horses prepared in advance today, because they already seemed too close, even at the pace my magic carriage set. My heart leaped, but not in the way it had earlier. I was, without a doubt, falling head over heels for the prince, but so close to sunset, he was the last person I wanted to see now. Actually, the prince, the captain, the soldiers, even Princess Lyla, were all on equal footing of the people I least wanted to see.

  “We’re not going to make it,” I yelled to the coachman, who may not have heard me but honked his acquiescence anyway.

  Why did I take so long? I berated myself. Why couldn’t I have just looked at the sky and slipped out before the prince found me again?

  Because I hadn’t wanted to go home.

  Because I had forgotten that my appearance was only magic.

  Because I was greedy for every moment I could get with the prince and this other life.

  The sun was completely below the horizon now and by dimmed light we raced wildly across the main road, peeling through Camallea at speeds unsafe for a carriage. At some points, soldiers would suddenly appear beside the carriage window, scaring me out of my wits as they tried to cut us off from alleys and side streets. Somehow, the goose skillfully evaded them all.

  We were safely out of Camallea and well on the way home when I felt the first jolt from the bottom of the carriage. I thought we’d lost a wheel, but when I didn’t see one rolling away behind us, I realized that we’d lost a wheel because the pumpkin was transforming back into its natural state. As we careened around a corner, two squirrels leaped off the back and scurried into the trees lining the way. The carriage became more orange, bumpier, and I knew I had to get out of there before it transformed back with me still inside.

  I waited until we were coming across another bend then yelled to the coachman, “Turn straight into the trees!”

  He did as he was told. The carriage veered off the main road, I pushed the door open, and soon we were tumbling down an incline, one goose, four mice, a pumpkin, and me. When we came to rest at the bottom, it took me a minute to get my legs under me. I picked up the pumpkin and clucked the goose to my side. When I was finally able to stand, I ducked right back down again, hearing approaching horsemen, their confused cries, their sudden halt right across from where I was.

  I willed the goose to keep his bill shut. But no longer a magical being, he was scarcely under my control. He let out a sharp honk, which turned heads and brought footsteps in our direction. I debated running away, but knew I wouldn’t make it very far, and would only increase suspicion. Instead, I grabbed a handful of dirt and quickly smeared it across my face.

  The approaching footsteps turned out to be those of the captain and two soldiers. Though I knew he wouldn’t recognize me, I was still relieved that the prince was not with them.

  The captain fixed his sharp gaze upon me. I lowered my eyes so he couldn’t see them. “Miss, what are you doing out here after dark?” he wanted to know.

  I fished around for an excuse. “Chasing after the goose,” I replied lamely.

  “Do you live around here?”

  I nodded.

  “Did you see a carriage go by not three minutes ago?”

  I shook my head no and the goose honked again. The blasted animal was going to be the death of me. The noise seemed to shake off some of the captain’s focus.

  “Look at me,” he said softer, but with as much force.

  I hesitated before looking up. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “Sixteen,” I replied.

  He nodded, but his brow furrowed, as if something had taken ahold of his memory, endeavoring to match two seemingly random bits. I needed to get out of there before anything fell into place.

  “I really should get home, sir,” I said politely. “Father will worry.”

  He no
dded and let me go without further comment, but I could feel his eyes following me as I climbed back to the main road, ushering the traitorous goose along, lugging the pumpkin under my arm. It was a few moments before I heard him return to the main road, where he was forced to divert his attention from me to take care of his soldiers’ reports.

  “Nothing,” one man said. “Not a clue, not even a track.”

  I didn’t hear the captain’s response, as it was then that I passed by the prince’s horse. I knew it was his because of the fine white coat, the soft, black leather boot in the stirrup. Sound faded to a buzz, but I refused to look up. Last time we met like this, the prince had mistaken me for a little girl. After two wonderful encounters, I couldn’t bear that indignity again.

  It took well over thirty minutes to finally reach the path that turned off to my house. By then, all other emotions had quieted, and I was left only with the pleasant warmth of more hours spent among royalty. I was already replaying the afternoon for the third time when I reached my mother’s grave. I placed the pumpkin on the low stone wall and sat with my back to it as I told her about all that had happened.

  Then I climbed the pear tree high as I dared and looked out toward the palace, searching for the lights I thought would be lit and burning bright. I couldn’t see it from my vantage point, but my mind saw it as it should be.

  When my stepfamily returned later that night, my stepsisters had understandably worked themselves into a tizzy.

  “We met the mystery lady again!” Calliope was the first to tell me.

  “She introduced us to a princess!” Maybelle said. “Princess Lyla, the most beautiful woman who ever was.”

  Calliope nodded in solemn agreement. “She must be somewhat important if she is friends with a princess!”

  “And so she ran from the prince again!” Maybelle cried out.

  “What is it about him that repels her so?” Calliope asked, and the two fell into fits of laughter.

  It only took five years for me to answer that question.

  Calliope pulled herself together. “Do you think her disfigured? For she always covers her face?”