So This is Love

by Elizabeth Lim

  The front door to the duke’s chambers creaked open, and Cinderella quickly stuffed the pages into her pockets.

  “What do you think you’re doing, young lady?”

  Under the glare of the duke’s attendant, Cinderella shot to her feet, hiding the document behind her back. “I’m . . . I’m cleaning His Grace’s—”

  “What’s that in your hand?”

  “It’s . . . n-nothing.”

  “You . . . you look familiar. You’re—” Before the attendant’s suspicion could grow any further, Cinderella dashed out of the duke’s chambers into the hall. She was in such a hurry she didn’t look ahead . . .

  And ran straight into the arms of the Grand Duke himself.

  “You’re a clever one, escaping the royal prison—I’ll give you credit for that,” said Ferdinand. “But you’ve made a great mistake returning to the palace. Your time is up, my child.”

  He clapped, and the guards rounded on Cinderella.

  She twisted away from them, holding up the papers she had taken from the duke’s office. “These! These are proof that the duke is a traitor!”

  The guards hesitated, glancing at the duke with uncertainty.

  “You would listen to her lies?” Ferdinand lashed out. “Useless, all of you.” He seized her arm, snatching at the papers she’d found, but Bruno snarled, pouncing on the duke and gnashing ferociously at his legs.

  The duke kicked Bruno aside, pushing him toward the guards. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, looking flustered. “Get those papers!” he barked at the guards. “And arrest her!”

  Reluctantly, the guards advanced, but Cinderella dug her heels into the carpet, her eyes steely and cool and daring them to come for her. She held up the papers she’d found, reading as loudly as she could, “ ‘I have a need for a concoction that will cause grievous pain—enough to make one consider—’ ”

  “Stop her!” Ferdinand shouted.

  The guards tried to seize her arms, and Cinderella twisted away, bolting for the royal audience chamber. She’d gotten as far as across the portrait gallery when, suddenly, Duchess Genevieve appeared on the other side of the hall.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  Immediately, the guards halted, and the Grand Duke recoiled at the sight of the king’s sister. “Stay out of this, Genevieve,” he warned her. “The girl is under arrest.”

  “For what crime?” entered a new voice.

  Charles! Cinderella’s heart swelled when she saw him emerge beside his aunt.

  “For what crime, you ask?” Ferdinand blustered. “She’s a sorceress, Your Highness, a danger to the kingdom—”

  “Enough,” commanded Charles. “The only danger to the kingdom is you.”

  “Come to your senses, Your Highness. She’s cast a spell on you. Y-y-you aren’t yourself.”

  The prince wasn’t listening anymore. He turned to Cinderella, relief flooding his eyes as he took her hands in his own. “I knew that letter wasn’t you. But when I saw the ring inside . . .”

  “I wouldn’t leave you,” she said, her fingers tracing along his palm. “I thought you were at the council to announce your betrothal—”

  “I couldn’t go through with it. Then Aunt Genevieve found me and explained everything.” Charles broke his gaze from Cinderella to glare at the duke. “After what you’ve done to Cinderella, you’re a brave man to dare remain in the palace, Ferdinand.”

  To the duke’s credit, he maintained his composure. “Magic is forbidden. You know the law, and I know the girl used magic to attend the first ball.”

  “Then it’s time the law changed,” replied the prince.

  “Unfortunately, that is not your decision to make.” The Grand Duke waved a familiar scroll, tied with a green ribbon. “Your father made me Grand Overseer of Aurelais.”

  “I would check that decree again if I were you,” said the duchess. “You’ll find that it hasn’t been properly signed.”

  Ferdinand frowned as he fumbled at the scroll. “H-h-he signed the declaration. I saw it with my own eyes!”

  “Look again. I convinced George to go along with the plan to bring out your true colors. It wasn’t easy, given how much he trusts you. Luckily, even after all these years, he still trusts me more.”

  The duke’s eyes bulged, and he looked like he was about to faint. “Why you . . . you conniving old witch!”

  “I learned from the best, Ferdinand,” said Genevieve cheerily. “I couldn’t very well counsel my brother to entrust the kingdom to you, now could I?”

  Cinderella caught the scroll as it slipped from his fingers. “ ‘By royal decree, I hereby declare Ferdinand, the Grand Duke of Malloy, Grand Overseer and Councilor Regent of the kingdom of Aurelais, until he should see fit to grant full power to my son and heir, Prince Charles.’ Signed—” Cinderella laughed softly. “Signed, Grinning Ginny.”

  Ferdinand made a choking sound.

  “I hereby strip you of your lands and title,” said Charles coldly. “Ferdinand, you are banished from Aurelais, never to return.”

  “B-b-but, Your Highness, Your Majesty—you simply don’t understand. I was just—”

  “Trying to protect the kingdom?” Charles finished for him. “By going behind my father’s back to seize more power for yourself?”

  Spinning for the door, the duke tried to flee, but the guards grabbed him by the arms so forcefully that his monocle fell out of his pocket, swinging back and forth.

  “You were about to make a mistake,” Ferdinand said pleadingly. “By marrying a servant, you invite war to Aurelais. The people will never understand. They will never accept her.”

  “Cinderella may be a commoner,” spoke up the duchess, “but I have no doubt she will make a queen far more worthy and beloved than any you might have chosen.”

  Cinderella stepped forward. “I know not everyone will accept me,” she said quietly, “but I’ve learned that life isn’t perfect. You can’t be happy all the time, and I can’t expect everyone to love me. But the people are our future. If we don’t realize that, if we keep clinging to the past, then Aurelais will crumble.”

  The doors behind her burst open, and in stormed the king, still in his pajamas.

  “Where is the traitor?” he rasped. Shadows hooded King George’s eyes, and his voice was barely louder than a whisper. In spite of it all, his energy had not dimmed, and as he shook his fists at the Grand Duke, two attendants scurried after him.

  “Father, what are you doing here? You should rest.”

  “Bah, rest? When my sister tells me that this scoundrel has been poisoning me?” King George ignored his son’s entreaties and set his gaze on the duke. “How could you, Ferdinand? Poison, really?”

  The Grand Duke cringed. “Your Majesty, there, there—allow me to explain.”

  “What is there to explain?” Charles seethed, clenching his fists. “You tried to kill the king. There had better be an antidote.”

  The king’s guards began to search the duke, but he twisted in their grasp.

  “I-I-I can obtain the antidote for you,” he stuttered. “But perhaps an act of clemency might be in order first, sire—a-a-after all, it was all in good measure, and n-n-o one was harmed—”

  Bruno pounced on the duke, tearing at his pockets. A vial tumbled out, landing on the soft carpet, along with a crumpled piece of parchment.

  “That’s it, sire! The antidote. You see, it was harmless. Truly. I didn’t mean for it to go so far.”

  “Lock him up,” King George ordered the guards. “I never want to see him again.”

  “B-b-but, sire!”

  “And throw away the key.” The king turned his back to Ferdinand, a deep frown setting on his face until the guards dragged the Grand Duke out of sight. Then King George sniffled, blowing his nose into a handkerchief. “I thought of him as a friend, you know. He wasn’t always so terrible.”

  “People change,” said Genevieve, patting her brother’s shoulder. “Sometimes for the better, so
metimes not.”

  “He wanted to protect the kingdom,” added Cinderella gently. She picked up the vial along with the parchment that had slipped out of the duke’s pocket, and handed them both to the king. “Sometimes even the wickedest deeds begin with good intentions.”

  Could the same be said about her stepmother? Cinderella realized she no longer needed to find out, and that was probably for the best.

  Still clenching the antidote tight in his fists, the king drank it all in one gulp and made a face.

  Cinderella wasn’t the only one holding her breath as she watched the king. Slowly but surely, the pallor in his skin faded, and a slight flush returned to his cheeks.

  He let out a deep breath. “And you, young lady—” He gestured to Cinderella. “It’s high time we were properly introduced.”

  “Meeting your future daughter-in-law while still in your sleeping clothes, George?” said Genevieve. “And in the presence of a traitor? How unceremonious.”

  “Better here than risk her running away again. No glass slippers on you this time, eh?”

  Cinderella couldn’t help laughing. “No, Your Majesty, I won’t run away. Not ever again.”

  “Glad to hear it. It’s an unbecoming trait in anyone, let alone a princess, having the entire kingdom search for you with nothing other than a glass shoe.” The king chuckled. “That will be a story for the ages.”

  At the mention of magic, Cinderella’s laughter faded. “The Grand Duke was right about me using magic, sire. I’m not a sorceress, but my fairy godmother gave me the dress and the glass slippers to attend the ball. She’s the kindest person, and it would mean the world to her—and to me—if you would allow magic in Aurelais again.”

  Bewilderment came over the king’s face. “Allow magic? I already cleared this up with Ferdinand. . . .”

  His voice drifted as he unfurled the crumpled paper. “My proclamation! I . . . I gave this to Ferdinand this morning to present to the council.”

  “It looks like he never intended to share it,” said Genevieve.

  “Remind me to add another twenty years to the duke’s time in prison,” mumbled King George. He cleared his throat, turning to Charles. “I believe I left Aurelais in your charge. It’s up to you, my boy.”

  Charles took Cinderella’s hand. “It’s up to us,” he said. “By royal decree, all persons of magical talent are hereby welcomed once more in Aurelais.”

  As soon as the words left his lips, a halo of glittering lights appeared in the hall. All present watched in amazement as Lenore materialized before them, her hands clasped at her chest and her dark eyes glittering with tears.

  She wasn’t the only one. The duchess’s eyes were misty, too, and it took Cinderella a moment to realize why.

  “Your Majesty, Your Highness, Charles”—Cinderella gestured—“allow me to introduce you to my fairy godmother.”

  “It is our good fortune to finally meet you.” The duchess spoke first. Her words came out thick and hoarse, and she sniffed before clearing her throat. “My husband would have been happy to see this day.”

  Lenore clasped the duchess’s hands. “I remember your husband well, Genevieve. I wish I could have thanked him for his many kindnesses to my friends. And for the sacrifices he made so this day could finally come.”

  “I wish we could have done more. For too long, Aurelais cast your people away. Magic has nearly been forgotten, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

  “Now, that isn’t true,” soothed the fairy godmother, letting go of Genevieve’s hands to circle the small crowd. “What is magic if not a little miracle? Those come in all shapes and sizes every day, with or without my help. In the form of love and joy, most often, but in other forms, too. Magic only makes the miracles come faster.”

  Lenore placed her hand on Cinderella’s arm. “And what a miracle you’ve fashioned for us all, my dear child. I wanted to help you find your happily ever after, but it is you who has helped me.”

  “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for everything you have done for me,” replied Cinderella. “Magic is welcome again in Aurelais, and it always will be.”

  Wiping away her tears with her sleeve, the fairy godmother bounced back onto her heels, then gave Prince Charles a stern look. “Well, young man, are you going to hold the slipper all day long?”

  “Pardon?” Startled, Charles looked down and found Cinderella’s glass slipper on his palm.

  “If I recall, you were going to give it back to her at the ball. This is as good a time as any, after all!”

  Extending his arm to help Cinderella keep her balance, Charles knelt, tilting the slipper toward her foot.

  It was a perfect fit.

  “But where is the other slipper?” asked the king.

  “It’s gone,” said Cinderella softly. “I had to—”

  “Say no more.” Lenore winked. At the wave of her wand, the missing slipper appeared on Cinderella’s foot, and a gentle rush of wind swept across the palace.

  When Cinderella blinked next, pink and white roses decorated the hall on white trellises. And not just inside the palace, but outside as well! Everywhere she looked, pink and white roses bloomed across the kingdom.

  “An early wedding present,” said the fairy godmother triumphantly.

  The king leaned out the window, inhaling the fresh air. With a happy sigh, he looked up at his sister. “Seems like I’ve left the kingdom in good hands, doesn’t it? It’s high time I retired to the country, or—what do you say to a visit in Orlanne?”

  “I’ll give you three weeks before you come running back to Valors,” said Genevieve. “I know you, George. You won’t be able to stay away from the palace, especially if there are grandchildren in your future.”

  A deep blush reddened Cinderella’s and the prince’s cheeks.

  “You’re in the business of granting wishes, aren’t you?” the king asked, nudging Lenore, a joking gleam in his eye. “Make sure these two continue the royal line! There’s plenty of space on the palace walls for portraits of ten grandchildren. Or more!”

  “For goodness’ sake, George,” scolded Genevieve, “let’s get on with the wedding first. At this rate, you’re going to frighten the poor girl away.”

  “No, she’s here to stay. I can tell.” The king cocked his head at his son and Cinderella, who were by the window murmuring with their heads close.

  Oblivious, the couple shared a tender kiss. As Cinderella’s heart swelled with happiness, a burst of rose petals swelled up from the gardens and danced into the sky: a celebration of magic, love, and hope.

  She touched her forehead to Charles’s, both of them smiling at the sight.

  By the end of the day, all of Aurelais would know that the prince had finally found his princess, and that magic had returned to the country.

  The next week, Cinderella and Prince Charles were married. It was a magnificent affair: Cinderella wore a lustrous white gown—sewn by none other than Louisa and her mother—that went beautifully with her sparkling glass slippers. Duchess Genevieve walked her down the aisle, and Bruno proudly bore the ring—balancing it on a velvet cushion on his head.

  Out of the goodness of her heart, Cinderella even invited Lady Tremaine and her stepsisters to the wedding. She didn’t want the happiest day of her life to be marred by any bitter feelings toward her stepmother. Though Lady Tremaine did not attend, Anastasia and Drizella did, and over the years, Cinderella and her stepsisters developed a civil if not warm relationship.

  The king never did retire to his estate in the countryside, but instead, he relished his new freedom by visiting Genevieve in Orlanne and traveling to Aurelais incognito, often borrowing his son’s university jacket during his stolen evenings out even though it was far too large for him.

  Magic returned to Aurelais, fairy godparents bringing hope and little miracles to those in need of it, and the Grand Duke of Malloy was exiled far from the kingdom, never to be seen again. King George and Genevieve took over the duke’s former q
uarters, using it as an office to help newly reinstated magical beings return to Aurelais, while Cinderella and Charles dismantled the council, putting in its place an assembly of forward-thinking men and women, regardless of rank or wealth, to advise them as they ruled the country.

  The story of Cinderella and her glass slipper had spread far and wide, and many wished to hear it from her own lips. But as she and the prince traveled the far corners of the world, recounting how they’d met and come to fall in love, they emphasized that their story didn’t end with the glass slipper being found and returned to Cinderella. No, their fairy tale continued on, with each day together and later with their children.

  As for the glass slippers, Cinderella and Charles kept them displayed in the garden for all to see—as a reminder that magic, as wonderful as it could be, was never the key to making one’s dreams come true or making one happy. After all, spells were fragile, hopes could shatter, and dreams could stay dreams, never given a chance to take wing.

  If one looked very carefully, sewn onto the cushion upon which the slippers stood was the word for what Cinderella and the prince found to be even greater than magic, than dreams, than happily ever afters, than even hope—

  It was love.

  Elizabeth Lim was inspired to become a writer by the myths and fairy tales her father told her as a child. In addition to being an author, she is a Juilliard-trained composer and has written the scores to several award-winning films and video games. Originally from the San Francisco Bay Area, she attended Harvard College and now lives in New York City with her husband. To learn more about Elizabeth, visit her site at www.elizabethlim.com.