Fractured Slipper

by Adrienne Monson

  Time stopped.

  The feathering melody of the violins and cellos in the background ceased. The excited chatter from the exquisite guests fell into silence. Not even the chittering crickets chirruped. The only thing I could hear was Greyson’s breath, panting softly against my cheek.

  He gently put me down, and we stared around the garden. The flittering flames on the candles inside the lanterns stood at attention. The crimson gold leaves falling from the surrounding trees bent in strange ways having stopped halfway through the air on their journey to the ground.

  “Ella, the slipper,” Greyson gestured to the fallen shoe lying sideways on the still grass. A rainbow of color twisted up from the toe, a kaleidoscope of strange but mesmerizing shades. The sole pulsed as if a true heart beat inside the inanimate object.

  “What is that?” I breathed and bent down to touch it.

  “Don’t disturb it, Ella. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the whirling colors. Pictures began to form inside the growing rays of light. A euphoric tingling sensation filled my body and hinted if I waited for only just a moment, perhaps I could recognize them. Greyson gently put his hand on my shoulders and turned me toward him, then framed my face in his hands pulling my attention from the glittering lights. I gazed up into his eyes, the spell from the color diffusing.

  “Ella, who did you get these from?” he gestured to the slipper.

  “The footman who brought the carriage said a woman gave them to him. She told him to give them to me as a gift. There was a card inside the box, but all it said was ‘for the ball.’”

  He breathed an exasperated sigh.

  “Well, let’s get the other one off you. Their beauty is deceiving. I get the feeling there’s something very wrong with them.”

  “No. Whenever both slippers are off my feet, I fade into blackness and wake up to repeat yesterday.”

  Greyson pointed to the fractured slipper. “Well, the other one is broken now. Perhaps that changed things. Let’s see what happens.”

  He bent down. I lifted my foot up, and as he pulled the slipper off me, time suddenly jolted and started again. We were standing in a different position as if another time loop repeated. The interruption of the stark silence and our repositioning startled me. Music, laughter, and chattering filled the air. The leaves fell to the ground. The crickets played their song.

  “How strange,” I muttered, staring at the slipper in his hand.

  “Indeed,” said a raspy voice from behind the trees. The hooded figure I saw last night appeared from the thicket to the left of the swing, two other hooded bodies flanking on each side. Greyson dropped the slipper and reached for the sword strapped to his right hip, but he wasn’t quick enough. The larger of the two accomplices ran at him. Both of them were knocked to the ground. The second accomplice grabbed the slippers, and the leader came for me. They threw me over their shoulder. I tried to fight, but the arms that cinched around my legs held tight like vice grips.

  I could hear the struggle between the hooded figure and the prince. I kicked and wriggled to free myself but it was of no use.

  “Greyson! Greyson! Get your hands off me!”

  “Stop kicking,” the voice said gruffly.

  My captor was a man. But who?

  He raced across the royal grounds and headed for a carriage waiting just outside the gate. I continued to fight, but his hands held me fast. We reached the carriage, and he chucked me inside, closely following in after me.

  The clock on the bell tower began to strike.

  “It’s nearly midnight. We have to get both of the slippers back on her, then take them off at the same time or the day won’t reset,” the figure growled. He slammed me into the corner of the bench and yanked my legs downward, intertwining them with his own to keep them steady.

  The hooded figure holding the slippers jammed the good slipper onto my left foot. Searing pain jolted up my leg like before. Floods of memories sailed through my mind, reeling so fast I could barely see them. A flurry of strange sensations weaved through me.

  “Hurry, the other one.”

  As the tall figure made to shove the broken slipper on my foot, they crumpled at my feet, the prince towering behind them with raised fists. I regarded Prince Greyson, his lip bloodied, blue streaks flowering on the swelling lump above his left eye, relieved he was here.

  “Greyson, you’ve alive,” I squealed.

  He threw a fist at the man holding me. The head of the hooded figure cracked against the door of the carriage. His arms loosened and he collapsed on top of the other person on the ground. Greyson grabbed my hand and helped me out of the carriage. My chest heaved as I panted.

  “The slipper, it’s hurting me. I want to take it off but I’m afraid we’ll be back to where we started. Who are these people?” I whimpered. “Why are they doing this to us?”

  Greyson swooped me up into his arms, cradling me.

  “I need to get you back to the castle. My father will help us figure out what’s going on.”

  He carried me across the grounds and we headed for the face of the castle I remembered from my childhood. I recalled how I used to memorize and sketch every inch of the lit windows, draw the bubbling fountains dotting each side of the entrance while waiting for Father to do his business with the king. The irony of our situation boggled my mind.

  “We’ll figure this out, Ella. I know that we’re meant to be together. I’ve dreamed of you so many times. I love—”

  Greyson lurched forward, his arms falling slack. I tumbled to the ground and rolled, every part of my body bending in abnormal ways. The prince toppled just to the side of me, unconscious. The large hooded figure from the night before, the one who attacked Greyson in the garden, brandished the broken glass slipper from the carriage. His hood slipped and fell from his face. I recognized Commander Drake.

  “We need to set this right. One of these days, you’ll figure out that this is not meant to be and stop fighting your fate.”

  He approached me. Fat fingers wrenched my ankle and jammed the broken slipper onto my foot, then ripped off both the slippers at the same time. In the distance, I heard the clock on the bell tower of the castle chime, then fall silent. I reached for Greyson. My fingertips barely grazed his jacket before the stars above me blurred. My eyes rolled back into my head, bathing my vision in silky blackness.

  Chapter 9

  Caught up in a New Day

  “Mother, she ruined the glaze on the rolls on purpose.”

  Gisella threw her napkin on the floor, then picked up her plate and shoved it at Lilith. “Taste them. The glaze is scorched.”

  I blinked rapidly, hearing my stepsister’s whiny voice echo inside my ear, repeating itself.

  The glaze is scorched. The glaze is scorched. The glaze is scorched.

  “No!” I screamed and launched at her. I ripped the cinnamon roll from her hand and chucked it across the room.

  “Cinderella, how dare you!” roared Lilith.

  I stared at her wide eyes and gaping mouth. Ophelia and Gisella also gawked speechless, mouths hanging open like carp plucked from the river.

  “This can’t be happening again!” I shrieked and darted from the room. Shouts and commands followed behind me, but I didn’t care. Memories from yesterday—or tomorrow or whenever it was—were still fresh in my mind. I could hear the music of the ball, feel the satin of Anjelina’s mother’s gown pressed against my skin, still feel Prince Greyson’s heart patting against my cheek as I nuzzled against his chest after the melee in the carriage.

  Today, none of the memories blurred. I could recall the past, evoke every moment of the endless times I’d relived these two days.

  What changed?

  I burst from the door of my childhood home and raced down the street, hoping to find Anjelina home. The fall air bit at my cheeks, cooler as the early morning sun still climbed across the new blue sky. My muscles ached from the tumble I took last night when the prin
ce dropped me, but I didn’t care. I pushed harder until I reached my best friend’s porch.

  “Anjelina,” I hollered, pounding on the door. “Anjelina! Anjelina!”

  Their butler answered the door. I pushed past him.

  “Miss Ella, what do you think you’re doing?” he called after me.

  “Where’s Anjelina?” I yelled whipping my head around the foyer then up the grand winding staircase.

  I need you, Anjelina. Where are you?

  “Miss. The royal messenger just delivered an invitation to a ball tomorrow night. Her grace and Miss Anjelina have left for town to shop.”

  Without a word, I elbowed past him and ran for town. I needed Anjelina’s help to get to the castle. I had to speak to Prince Greyson. If he remembered everything that happened last night, we could try to figure out what was going on, who was behind this bizarre curse, and how to stop the time loop.

  Tired and ragged, I crossed the town border. Hundreds of people milled around, no doubt having received the invitation for the ball. I scanned the harried crowd, hoping to see Anjelina or her mother, but I didn’t recognize a soul in the sea of faces until I caught the eye of Commander Drake. His eyes bore into mine, and he marched his way through the crowd.

  Fear sent spikes of cold ice into my stomach. I turned to run, but a hand grabbed my arm from behind and a shrill voice whispered in my ear.

  “Don’t you dare move, Ella.”

  Shocked into stiffness, I recognized the voice of my older stepsister, Ophelia. Her fingers dug into my already bruised arm. A needlelike pinch jabbed into my back. I cried out.

  “If you try to run, I’ll run this knife clean through you.”

  I bit back the scream readying to explode from my mouth and pressed my lips together. Sweat moistened the back of my neck. I shivered.

  The commander approached us. Seeing him again this close was like a living nightmare. I saw his fist slamming into my father’s chin and heard his head smacking the carriage wheel. I remembered Commander Drake’s cruel directive to keep quiet or he’d have me imprisoned.

  “Follow me and keep quiet, Cinderella. You know, it’s a joy to be a part of destroying the girl of the man who stole my childhood love from me. It seems fitting.”

  Shock and understanding flowed through me, answering the question I asked myself the day my father died. This was why they’d been old enemies.

  Ophelia shoved me forward into the commander, and he took my wrist and guided me through the bustling crowd to the largest of the royal carriages on the west side of the square. The steel end of the sharp blade still edged into my back as Ophelia followed close behind. Thoughts of betrayal and utter disbelief melded with the horror of what they were going to do with me. In this enormous sea of people, not one of them recognized what was happening to me. The excitement surrounding the upcoming royal ball kept them all entranced in their own worlds.

  “Get in,” the commander said as we reached the carriage. The door opened, and Gisella peered at me from the dark shadows, a sneer on her ugly fat face. I stood there, another bolt of shock and awe coursed through me.

  A sharp pain stung my back as Ophelia dug the point of her knife into my flesh.

  “Go on,” she commanded.

  I hopped onto the stair, then ducked into the carriage.

  “Well, this is a real mess you’ve gotten us all into, isn’t it, Sister? If you hadn’t broken that slipper, we would have eventually had a happily ever after.” She reached across and slammed a handkerchief over my mouth. Sour fumes accosted my nostrils and tongue. I fought against her clamp hold, but she held it true. White spots dotted my vision, and the last thing that flashed through my mind was Gisella’s evil smile.

  Chapter 10

  Love Is False

  A loud bang woke me from unconsciousness. My eyelids fluttered. The capillaries in my brain pounded with fierce pain each time my heart pulsed. I tried to speak, but my swollen tongue stuck to the back of my front teeth. The inside of my mouth was as dry as stale bread.

  “Good, she’s awake.”

  I recognized Gisella’s voice. I tried to move, but my hands and feet were tied at the wrists and ankles.

  “Sit her up,” commanded Ophelia.

  Gisella waddled over and gripped my shoulders, yanking me up from the hardwood floor. A dull ache pulsed in my lower back where Ophelia punctured me with her knife. I realized we had returned home. We were inside the attic. The commander was no longer with them.

  Black velvet sky flecked with glittering silver stars painted the glass windows. Candelabras stacked with flickering candles lit up the walls. A slumped figure sat, tied to a chair in the far corner. I blinked my eyes several times to focus. My throat constricted when I realized who was there.

  Greyson.

  “Ophelia, what in the world do you think you’re doing? You kidnapped the prince?”

  “You shut your mouth and listen up or I’ll go and slit his throat right now.”

  Even though the unforgiving floor dug into my bruises I nodded, afraid to move or make a peep, not knowing if she was telling the truth and still had her knife.

  My stepsisters pulled up two dusty chairs and sat in front of me, both of them staring down observing like I was a mouse caught in a cage.

  Ophelia pursed her lips and smoothed her kinky blonde frizz.

  “I want to tell you a story. Once upon a time, when we were young, we had a mother and a father who adored us. Our family lived in the smallest home in our village. We never had much money, but there was love. Father often told us that love conquered all. He taught that even if you had every gold piece in the world, it didn’t matter, as long as you had love.”

  Gisella peered up at Ophelia, sadness overshadowing her normally impertinent demeanor.

  Ophelia continued. “When we were eight, our beloved father contracted consumption and died, leaving us destitute. Mother, although heartbroken, worked odd jobs to support us. We barely ate and lived in an abandoned barn. She promised us that one day, when her savings could buy the finest clothing, she would travel with us to the next kingdom. She’d find a wealthy man and convince him to provide for our future.”

  I stared over at Greyson—his head lolling on his shoulder, cheeks blanched. I wondered if he was alright.

  Ophelia narrowed her eyes and snapped her fingers. “I want you to look at me and pay attention when I’m talking to you.” She pulled the knife out of her skirt pocket and set it on her lap. I straightened up, staring at her.

  “The years of the dark underground of nightwork took its toll on Mother. She pounded into our heads that wealth and fancy meant more than anything else in the world, especially love. Whenever a village boy would catch our eye, the whip came out and cost us both uncomfortable seats for weeks. With each lash, she forced us to repeat the same line: Love is false, will never stay. The only man worth salt is the one who will pay.”

  I stared at Ophelia’s taut face. A black shadow of hate fell over it.

  “When we were eleven, Mother took us to our neighboring kingdom of Britannia to seek a rich man who could take care of us.”

  Gisella cleared her throat, interrupting Ophelia. “By some miracle, Mother charmed a very wealthy importer.”

  Ophelia licked her lips. “Indeed. She did find a man—a beautiful, charming, rich man whom she married. Going against what she’d taught us, over the next four years she fell for his charm. She believed it to be true love. We got stupidly comfortable in our life with our new father. Hope filled my heart that perhaps with this newfound money, Gisella and I too could find someone we could love.”

  Gisella’s face pinched and pink flourished in her cheeks. “But we soon learned our mother’s wisdom ruled out. Love was false, and it didn’t stay. While overseas to procure more goods for his import business, another much younger woman from a distant land turned his eye. Upon his return with her, our new father threw us to the street like trash, leaving us to once again fend for ourselves.”

&
nbsp; Ophelia smirked. “But Mother was no fool. She’d kept gold hidden from our new father, away from the manor. Enough for us to travel and buy new finery. So, we headed here, into Wallachia. Word reached her of a widower who worked as a successful tradesman for the king. She watched him for many days, even followed him back to his estate.”

  Fury ate at my stomach at the thought Lilith had tricked my father. The dislike I had for her grew into loathing as Ophelia revealed more lies and deceit.

  “It became clear his wealth exceeded all of our hopes. He was much wealthier than the importer, only second to the king and prince themselves.”

  She gestured behind her to Greyson. I ground my molars trying to keep quiet, eyeing the knife still cradled in her lap.

  “The opportunity she dreamed of presented itself. Soon our mother wooed, courted, and married your father.”

  Angry inflammation pulsed through my back, legs, and buttocks from sitting on the floor for so long, but it was nothing compared to the fire now blazing in my heart.

  Father married Lilith because he wanted me to have a mother. He married that despicable, horrible, disgusting liar for me.

  I wanted to launch up at my two stepsisters and slap both their faces.

  Gisella gestured around the room. “Life in your estate became quite comfortable for us. Our new father spent so much money doting over and spoiling us.”

  Ophelia’s face hardened. She interrupted Gisella’s thought. “Just before he died, Mother even admitted to me that the forbidden bud of love started to blossom again for this man because of his generosity and kindheartedness toward us all. Oh, there was no doubt the largest portion of his heart belonged to you, but she thought as long as it was a daughter, not another woman, she could live with it.”

  Gisella sneered and pointed her finger at me. “Everything was perfect until you killed him. You ruined everything.”