For the first time in a year, I truly realized what I’d become. The strong brave girl who loved life, the one Mother and Father raised to have courage and self-confidence, had shrunken into a near lifeless shell—doing what she was told, letting sadness and grief bury the light inside of her. I pictured myself ten years older. I saw a lonely spinster who watched her only dear friend marry and start a family. A sad broken woman whose only lot in life was continuing to serve her cruel, wicked stepmother and stepsisters who weren’t even blood. Something inside of me clicked, as if my thoughts forced a switch on in the very back of my brain. Gears started moving inside of me, clicking and turning, waking me from a mechanical stupor.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “No. I’m not going to let them treat me like this anymore. Father’s death wasn’t my fault. I’ve let them convince me I’m less than the dirt they track inside the house. I don’t deserve this. Father and Mother would never want this for me. You’re right. I’m sorry, I just forgot who I was the past year. I am going to the ball. I’m going to take my life back.”
Anjelina licked her lips and slapped my shoulder.
“That’s my girl. Now, where’s your dress? I’ll go get it.”
“In the attic, under some blankets.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “They have you sleeping in the attic now? If I wasn’t a lady, I’d spew all the bad words I’m thinking right now.”
Anjelina stormed out of the bathroom in a fluff of purple and black. I bathed, scrubbing the dirt from my face and the grease from my snarled hair. The irons were still hot from the last curls I put in the girls’ ponytails, so when Anjelina returned, she helped me twist and curl my hair. We talked it out, and just like the girl I loved, she had me in stitches with her impressions of the stepsisters trying to woo the prince.
“What shoes am I going to wear?” I said, realizing the only pair I had were the dingy dirty shoes I did the chores in.
Anjelina’s face fell slightly.
“Oh, oops. I completely forgot about that. Do you have any you could wear with a dress?”
I gawked at my bare feet. “No, all of my shoes have been ruined over the past year.”
“Well, it’s no never mind. The dress is long enough, not a soul will even notice, unless the prince literally sweeps you off your feet.”
We both broke out into a fit of laughter, then went on twisting and braiding my hair. The clock chimed repeatedly, signaling each quarter hour until finally it struck 8:30. After Anjelina put the last pin in my hair, I twirled around, feeling the skirt of the gown lift from the floor, soft air tickling my ankles. The chiffon sleeves rubbed against my arms, releasing the rose scent from the soap off my skin.
Never had I felt so strong, beautiful, and determined.
“Your carriage will be here any second. I need to get back to my house and head to the ball. I promise you, cross my heart, that I will find a way to pull Lilith and the other two away from the prince long enough for you to approach him. Good luck, Ella. You truly look stunning. He will remember you, don’t you worry. Hey, you won’t forget about me when you’re the queen, will you?”
An odd sensation like déjà vu rose from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head as she finished her sentence. The words she spoke resonated with me in such a strange way it stole my balance. I teetered to the side, grabbing the vanity for support.
“Ella, are you okay?” Anjelina raised an eyebrow as she walked back into the bathroom.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Lilith and the girls had me running all day. I’ve been pretty emotional. I think I’m just tired.”
“Are you sure you’re okay, do you want me to stay until the carriage gets here?”
I put my palm in the air. “No, I feel fine now. It was nothing. Just a weird wave of lightheadedness. You go so you can ride with your mother to the ball and announce yourself.”
Anjelina hugged me. “Alright, see you there. Good luck, Ella. Find the prince. Trust in fate. Your life is about to change for the good.”
We both hurried down the stairs but as she reached the front door a knock sounded.
“Hmm. Just in time. Good ol’ Jacque.” She skipped down the rest of the stairs and pulled the knob. As the door swung open, a footman stood on the porch in a lavish suit, an ornately wrapped box in his hands. Another wave of déjà vu swept over me and I closed my eyes to stave off the spinning.
“Miss Ella?” he said to her and bowed.
Anjelina sniggered, “Nope,” then she snuck past him and ran for the gate.
I descended the rest of the stairs and approached the door. “I’m Ella.”
The footman handed me a box wrapped in gold paper and ribbon. “We must hurry to the castle. No one must know I’m gone. You can open your gift on the way.”
“What is this, who’s it from?” I questioned as he handed it to me.
“I have no idea who it’s from. A woman gave it to me. She told me to give it to you just before I left the castle. Let’s go, miss, please. I said you can open it on the way. Come, I’m doing a favor for Jacque and Gus. I did owe them one, but if you don’t hurry, I’m sure to lose my job.”
I followed him as he scuttled to the open door of the carriage, and he helped me inside. As we rode, a little too fast for my liking, I peeled the wrapping from the box on my lap, curious about its contents and who’d sent it to me.
I tipped the lid off the bare box. The moonbeams cascading through the carriage window caught the facets of two glass slippers lying on a black velvet bed inside, exploding them with silvery light. A small note nestled just inside the corner of the box scrolled in curly gold writing bore my name. I opened the small note, but there was no signature inside. It simply said, “For the ball.”
Breathless at the generosity of the gift, I lifted one of the slippers out. The design exceeded any jewel. It sparkled and glowed as if it were a living, breathing object. The unique cuts across the top came together at the rounded toe, creating what appeared to be the hands of a clock at midnight. I inspected the slipper’s edge where the two points met. Ever so slightly, the numeral twelve rose from inside the glass. I noticed he same design etched into the other slipper’s toe as well. I noticed a few deep cracks on the bases of each heel, but figured it was likely part of the design and dismissed it.
I wondered if perhaps Anjelina’s mother sent the gift. Warmth enveloped me from the inside out as I took off my scuffed, frayed shoes and slipped on the glass heels.
Now I’m complete—from head to toe.
“We’ve arrived, Miss Ella.”
The carriage stopped. A pocket of time escaped. There was no memory of the ride to the castle.
The footman, eyes darting back and forth, offered his hand to help me out. Then he took off running, calling back and waving at me as he ran.
“Goodbye, miss. I must say, I do hope the prince chooses you.”
I blushed as he disappeared behind a tall hedge.
Alone, I peered up at the majesty of the landscape before me. Constellations of stars crowned the spires of the castle. Never in the many visits with Father had we come during the night. Ambient light luminesced from the stacks of windows shining out into the darkness. Hundreds of candlelit lanterns dotted the grounds, beckoning the evening visitors forward on winding paths.
The scene stole my breath away.
Father, Mother, I hope you can see me and are looking down, happy I’m finally taking my chance at happiness.
I proceeded forward on the lighted path closest to me. As I climbed the winding trail, the sole of the slippers hugged my feet as if made of soft satin pillows instead of glass. For a moment, I hoped by some miracle my mother sent them, but I knew that couldn’t be so. Perhaps, like they say, I had angels watching over me.
Violin and cello music floated out from the open doors as I approached the castle threshold. The doorman stared. “My, my, young lady. You must hurry inside. You are quite late for the festivities, but all is not lost. Dinner is finish
ed, but the king just struck up the orchestra.”
He bowed and gestured for me to enter.
“Yes. My apologies. Thank you, kind sir.”
I stepped into the foyer. The smell of roasted meat, onion, and garlic along with the warm savor of bread yeast drifted into my nose. My mouth watered, remembering the times when Father and I would eat such grand feasts with Mother. Consumed with the chores and preparations for my stepsisters, time hadn’t allowed for me to eat today. I was indeed disappointed to have missed the grand feast.
The doorman appeared at my side, noticing my hesitation.
“The ball is to your left, my lady.” He pointed down the hallway that forked off the foyer where dazzling light shown across the parquet floor from the open door at the very end.
He leaned down close to me. “The prince still hasn’t chosen his maiden, perhaps he’s been waiting for you.”
As he finished the last word, dizziness and fog swept through me. I lost my balance. The room spun like a top. I squeezed my eyes shut, flinging my arms out to brace my fall. A pair of strong hands grabbed my waist before I hit the ground, tilting me upward.
I forced my eyes open. Blurs of brilliant color spun in every direction and disorientation set in. When I came to myself I realized I was inside a ballroom, at the edge of the dance floor. Couples danced, locked in twirling embraces in front of me. The hands on my waist moved away and a warm body nudged up next to me. I glanced up to meet the surprised light emerald eyes of Prince Greyson. My chest constricted. My head swam. I rubbed my forehead trying to get my bearings.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in concern.
Time had somehow jumped forward, whisked me from the hallway into the ballroom. I wondered if I had truly worn myself to the point of delirium with my chores and readying the girls for the ball.
“Is that a yes?” he questioned, a broad grin spread his lips. Speechless, I batted my eyelids several times and nodded. He chuckled. “I may have had a sip too many of my champagne at dinner as well.”
He began to laugh and I joined him. The beats of the music changed. A new, more upbeat melody rang out. His eyes lit up, although I could see fair bit of apprehension behind his calm demeanor.
“I wonder if you would care to dance?” he said, holding out his white gloved hand.
“Uh huh,” I said, then realized my mouth was open like a gaping fish. I casually pulled it shut. I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. As he slid his fingertips around my waist and took my hand, my heart beat so fast, I wondered if it could take flight—dive from my chest like a hunting falcon. Heat rushed into my cheeks. Another surge of dizziness hit me.
Don’t pass out, pull yourself together, girl. This is what you’ve dreamed of since you were twelve. Get it together, get it together, get it—
“So,” the prince cleared his throat and chuckled. His nervousness seemed to match my own, and yet it was somehow charming, endearing.
“Yes?” I said, my voice still shaky. I peered into his face. Every muscle and organ inside me ignited, sending a shockwave of cool fire into my limbs. I could barely catch my breath in my fluttering lungs.
“I’m sorry,” he laughed as if embarrassed. “I’m usually more articulate.” He spun me gently across the floor. “I meant to ask your name.”
“Oh,” I smiled. “It’s Cinderella, but I usually go by Ella.”
“Ella,” he breathed, pulling me into him a little tighter. His chest pressed against mine. My knees went weak.
“My name is Greyson,” he said as if he didn’t realize I’d recognized him.
“Yes, you are. I mean, I know. This is your house, uh, c-castle. You’re the prince, right?”
Did I just stutter?
Greyson chortled, “Oh, yeah. I guess I am. Is it that obvious? I told Father I didn’t want to wear this sash tonight. I wanted to blend in.”
“It makes you look sort of handsome. I, um, think the sash is great.”
Wow. Graceful, Ella.
“Thank you. You as well. Not handsome. I didn’t mean to say you were handsome. I meant you’re beautiful, you look beautiful as well.” He closed his eyes as if to wish he could rewind the conversation and start over.
“Thank you, Prince Greyson.” I giggled.
“Please, just call me Greyson.” He spun me around quicker than before and as we danced our bodies moved in sync, as if we knew one second beforehand which way the other person was going to lean or turn. The music rushed over the crowd, pitched chords coming to life in the magical air. When the end of the song came and the next symphony started, the notes plinked inside my ears. A rush of déjà vu pummeled me. I twisted the wrong way and lost my footing, falling into Greyson. He slowed us down, searching my face.
“Ella, you look a bit pale.” He steered me near the edge of the dance floor and stopped. “Was I turning you too quickly? That dance can be a little tricky.”
Nausea clenched my stomach. I backed away from him, then stumbled forward. Instead of colliding with him, my hands met a solid railing of marble. Cool evening air hit my face. I examined my surroundings. The ballroom had disappeared. We were standing out on the balcony staring over the grounds. Like the ride in the carriage and the conversation with the doorman—a chunk of time had just disappeared.
“Perhaps we should sit down somewhere. It doesn’t seem like you’re well.”
Greyson’s fingertips grazed the small of my back and I turned to see a concerned look on his face. Embarrassed, I stared at the ground. “I’m so sorry, Greyson. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I know it sounds crazy but it’s like certain things keep feeling familiar, like I’m reliving a moment. Then time jumps forward and suddenly I’m in a different place. I know that doesn’t make any sense.”
He’s going to think I’ve gone insane. I’m ruining this. We just barely met.
His brow furrowed. A knowing look settled across his face. He took my hand in his and gently squeezed. “Will you please come with me, Ella? I have something to ask you.”
“Yes,” I said. Curiosity piqued as he guided me off the balcony. We filed around the outside of the ballroom and through a side door. I prayed he wasn’t taking me to one of the guards to have me dismissed, especially not Commander Drake.
We walked down a candlelit passageway and then through another door. The tang of rose, lilac, and gardenia flavored the night air as we entered a secret garden. Beams of glittering moonlight shown in through the breaks in the tall bushes. An ornate swing hung from an old, wide chestnut growing in the middle of the grove.
Now completely alone with the prince in such a beautiful place, knowing he wasn’t turning me into the guards, I relaxed. I saw him observing my reactions and became very aware of the electricity in the air between us.
We could’ve torched the entire kingdom.
Everything seemed crisper, more alive—the glisten of soft condensation on the body of the leaves, the dampened music from inside the castle vibrating, a nightingale singing in the distance.
“Are you feeling better now? Would you like to swing?” Greyson offered, flashing his enchanting smile.
“Yes, I’m feeling a bit better. Thank you, I’d love to,” I said returning a smile.
I sat back on the thick board and held fast to the braided rope as he pushed me gently.
“You said you wanted to ask me something,” I said still anticipating his question.
“When I saw you walk into the ballroom tonight, you seemed very familiar. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
Words caught in my throat, and I had to force them out.
Is he having the same déjà vu I am, or is he talking about the incident on the road?
I wasn’t sure how to answer him so I decided to focus on the latter.
“Yes. My father used to work with yours, he managed some of the royal property contracts.”
Greyson stopped pushing the swing. He came out from behind to face me, his cheeks streaked wi
th a pallid glow.
“What was your father’s name?”
A lump rose in the back of my throat and I realized I hadn’t spoken Father’s name out loud since he died.
“Roger. His name was Roger Hammerstein.”
Another knowing look exuded from his narrowed eyes and he nodded his head. My body suddenly felt strange, hollow. I tried to shake the rising feeling of déjà vu, but it pulsated inside me like another heartbeat, separate from my own. I’d recited Father’s name to the prince before and seen his reaction but how could that have been? Somehow, somewhere, we’d talked about him before but he was the only one who’d spoken on the road that day.
How could he possibly know? This is the first time we’ve ever had a conversation.
“Does this seem familiar to you at all?” he said, his tone wanting. He gestured at the garden.
“It feels like parts of it do, but I can’t remember.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and moistened my lips.
Greyson perched on the grass in front of me. He rubbed his forehead and sighed.
“Everything that happened tonight from the moment I saw you walk through the ballroom doors until now seems like a waking dream. I’m positive I’ve lived these moments with you before. Most importantly though, I remember how we first met.”
I started playing with the beads that came to a point on the base of my bodice.
That’s the only memory I’m sure of right now.
“Ella, I wanted to thank you for helping me on the road that day after my accident. When I woke three days later, no one would tell me what happened. All they would say is my horse, Macadamis, got spooked and bucked me off. My skull ached, but I kept remembering a compassionate, lovely face staring down at me, soothing me. Everyone worked hard to convince me I was just delirious, that my mind played a trick on me because of my concussion. But I couldn’t shake the feeling there’d been someone there—a girl who helped me.”
He plucked a blade of grass and started working it over.
“So, I began to ask around. All the guards seemed jittery, afraid to talk about it. They avoided me, and I thought their behavior quite strange. Why would they act like this over such a simple question?”
Fractured Slipper Page 27
