The Wronged Princess - Book I (13 page)

“And,
Esmeralda
, darling.”

“Ah, Esmeralda,” he whispered, committing the name to memory
. 
Lowering his lips to a hand that visibly trembled, her eyes bat so furiously he feared she would take off in flight
. 
The current in the air
was
amazing
. 

“Dinner is served.
”
The perfectly timed announcement resounded.

*****

Outrageous
.

Cinderella stomped her foot in frustration
. 
How
could
Stepmamá
pass her off as a servant
!
Because she was the evil
step
mamá
and this was a blasted fairy tale, she fumed
. 

Her ugly brown skirt whipped
round, vicious in its attack to any unlikely cobwebs as she maneuvered about her elaborate chamber
. 
She wanted to scream
. 
Despite its spaciousness, Cinderella felt as if the walls were closing in
. 
She felt lost in
a
jungle
,
all alone and unarmed
. 
She spun, stubbing her toe through thinly made
, and worn,
slippers on
the leg of
an overstuffed chair
. 

In an unusual fit of violence, hopping on one foot,
Cinderella
swung
open
the door where it bounced against the wall
. 
She winced, appalled at her lack of manners
. 
She strived for calm
through a deep breath then crept
forward
and
peered out with caution
. 

The hallway loomed large and airy
. 
Daunting
. 
Wide beeswax candles in perched sconces were measured in perfect placement along both sides of the
corridor
. 
A soft pleasant scent
of linseed
oil
teased her senses.

Cinderella glanced to her left toward the end of the hallway and saw a window as large as it was tall
where she could see d
usk
had fallen quickly
. 
T
he moon would be bright in another hour
. To the right
the hallway wound into the depths of darkness
, the silence, ominous.

She felt—forgotten
. 
Tears filled her eyes
but she blinked them away
. 
On the bright side
,
the solitude offered a reprieve from
Stepmamá
, Pricilla and Esmeralda
where
she could
surely
count on being adhered to
by way of an
unnecessary screech or slap.

She shook away the gloom
. 
“Leastways
,
I can always depend on you,
oui,
Marcel?
”
Cinderella smiled to her friend, who peeped his undying loyalty.
“Come,” she said
. 
“Let
u
s explore.”

She had doubts on seeing
her evil stepsisters
or
S
tepmamá
in
the confines of
this area, regardless
. 
She
’d
revel in this opportunity
. 
’
Twas
a
n opportunity too great to pass up
. 
Raising her chin, she stepped from the safety of her generous chamber and tread softly toward the window
. 

Feeling much like a thief in the night she glanced over her shoulder as she went
. 
Her slippers sunk into a deep rug that did not quite
stretch the width of the hall
. 
Not a speck of dust could be detected
. 
Of course, as the home of the Royal Family there wouldn’t be any dust
. 
Marcel
squeak
ed
in the eerie hush
, drawing her smile.

W
hat
would
become of
her
when Esmeralda married Prince
?
The thought had her swallowing a pained cry
. 
She reached the tall window and found it to be door leading out to a balcony
. 
Another glance over her shoulder
,
making certain no one snuck up on her,
she braved to test it
. 
It opened with nary a sound, but the cool night air had her pulling it
quickly
closed
and to settle for gazing
out at a full moon.

“Oh,
Papá
,” she whispered
. 
“How different life would have
been
had you not succumbed to that dreadful infirmity all those years ago.
”
But it had not
. 
Papá
had remarried for love
. 
And that love included two angry sisters she’d been forced to accept.
Stepmamá
had seemed cordial enough at the time
. 

“I tried,
Papá
. 
I did.
”
This was her
lot in
life, for good or il
l and Cinderella tried to see the good
. 

F
or
one
moment
in time,
Cinderella
managed in dancing the night away allowing hope to fill her heart
. 
Now, s
he would carry her secret to her dying day, she vowed
. 
At least, n
o one could steal her memories
. 
She was almost certain Esmeralda and Pricilla did not have a fairy godmother
. 
The selfish thought handed her a decided measure of satisfactory glee
, and she clung to the knowledge
. 
Mayhap, she could reach Fairy Godmother.

Chewing her bottom lip,
she glanced about
for
any sign of life
. 
What if Fairy Godmother went looking for her
?
They’d left so suddenly
. 
Non, non
.
She was a fairy godmother, she had powers
. 
How else could she have turned a drab servant girl into a magnificent, mysterious princess
?

Cinderella cleared her throat with a delicate cough
. 
“Fairy Godmother?” she called
, softly
. 
“Please
. 
S’il vous plait
. 
I am in desperate need of your assista
nce, ma’am.
”
Cinderella paused waiting for an indication, any significance her pleas were heard
. 
But only
the ominous silence loomed in the airy
cor
ridor.

Fairy Godmother
must truly
be
angry
. 
Mayhap, Cinderella could seek to reimburse her for the lost shoe
?
How much c
ould a glass slipper cost
?
Cinderella frowned
. 
More than she had, which was nothin
g.

Oh, how she
wished
she were the strong heroine
—a
heroine who prevail
ed
in the face of defeat. Rise above the ashes to…to smile as a saint
. 
Be of a giving nature
. 
Be one to offer her evil sister a blessed union with the prince
. 
Show him she was above all a
true
princess.

But
, alas,
she was not
. 
How could she when
s
he
loved Prince
. 
She did not want to be a saint
. 
She knew her timid nature fell more in favor of survival tactics rather than heroic efforts
. 
Too many years of
Stepmamá
utilizing unreserved methods of discipline of harsh words and heavy hands had branded her soul
. 

Tears filled her eyes once more
. 
It seemed to be a recurring fault of late
. 

“Peep,” Marcel let out
. 
Cinderella looked down
. 
Marcel was
perched on the toe of her shoe
. 
She leaned down and offered him an open palm, smiling through
a
watery vision.

“Prince deserves
someone strong and beautiful
, you know,” she told him
. 
“
A real princess.
”
Marcel let out an
annoyed squeak
. 

“Of course,” she agreed
, l
etting a quick surge of anger fuse
through the tears
. 
“
He e
specially
does
not deserve
someone
as
mean and spiteful
as
Esmeralda.
”

Pushing
away
the useless tears, Cinderella focused on the grounds out the large glass where bright moonlight provided a crystal clear view
. 
Perfection show
ed
in the gardens as immaculate as the hallway baseboards, leastways from the moonlit sky
. 
Dirt would not be allowed out there either, she
sniffed
. 

A small grin escaped as the last of her anger faded
. 
It was a lovely palace
. 
“Look,” she told him, pointing
. 
They peered
through the night over the manicured gardens
. 
W
aves rippled across a small pond glittering in the streaming moon’s light
. 
She squinted trying to make out what she thought might be a statue in
its
center
. 
“It looks like o
ne of the Greek gods,
” she said, drawing another sense of
melancholy
over her
. 
“If I am not mistaken, it appears
Eros, the god of love
, resides in that small pond
. 
See t
he stringed bow and arrow
?
”
It had to be, she thought, taking
in
the
sinewy arms
that
set him distinctly apart
from other ancient myth figures
.

A sense of nostalgia settled over her
. 
All her readings portrayed
his
power as potent as that of love and desire
. 
Granted, her imagination could soar with the legends but his role in the myths was brilliantly legendary
. 
Magnificent
. 
Even in modern times the masses celebrated him as the darling of poets and artists
. 
The centuries had been very kind to him
. 
This thought made her giggle.

Marcel responded in kind, obviously happy
she’d decided to revel in her new found, albeit short-lived,
independence
.

Somehow this particular statue at this particular moment seemed most apropos
. 
Cinderella resolved to sneak out early on the morrow
. 
Just for a quick
and
closer look
. 
She shrugged
. 
Who would miss her
?

Mayhap something would inspire her imagination to snag Prince’s attention
. 
Fairy tales had happy endings after all
. 
In the meantime, she would vow to revel in this unexpected gift of solitude while she could
. 
A
lone there was no one to lash out with anger, criticism or physical violence.