Cinderella: Ninja Warrior

by Maureen McGowan

  But instead, the sparks tickled as they swirled and danced in circles around her feet. Her heels rose, support arrived under her arches, and her feet felt hugged, as if they’d been wrapped in soft, warm cloth. Still, she couldn’t see anything. She pulled the skirt up farther and the light glinted off her feet as if they’d been coated in something shiny.

  The wizard stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “There. I’m not much with women’s fashion, but I think those are lovely.”

  Jenna and the maids clapped enthusiastically. “Oh, how wonderful!” Jenna remarked, hugging the wizard. “Don’t you think so, Cinderella?” She gestured toward one of the full-length mirrors and Cinderella wondered if she could move.

  She lifted one foot and was relieved to find it was neither detached from her leg nor anchored to the floor. She stepped over to the mirror, and, gasping, twisted in the light. “What are they made of?” She turned to the wizard, who was looking pretty pleased with himself.

  “Glass,” he said, spreading his arms out with a flourish. “ Ta-da!”

  “Glass slippers?” Her mouth fell open. “Won’t they break?”

  “Not these.” His expression fell with his arms. “You don’t like them?” He turned to Jenna.“I told you I’m not good with this kind of thing.” He raised his wand again, but Cinderella shook her head.

  “No, no. Don’t change them. They’re beautiful. And so light and comfortable. I’ve never seen anything so extraordinary.” She twisted her foot in the mirror, marveling at how her feet looked bare, yet were supported up on a heel and protected. They were so much better than anything she could have imagined, and went perfectly with the pale, shimmering gown.

  “Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s get you ladies to the ball.” The wizard pivoted, his robe swirling along with him, and strode from the room.

  Even from where she stood in the shadows of a side entrance, the ballroom was more spectacular than Cinderella could have ever imagined. Crystal chandeliers filled with thousands of tall tapers hung from the ceiling and the candles’ light bounced off the dozens of gold-edged mirrors scattered about the room. The mirrors also reflected the many fabulous and wonderful colors of the ladies’ gowns. She’d thought she’d blend into the background with her pale dress, but as hard as she’d tried to stay in the shadows and edges of the room, heads had turned her way as soon as she entered.

  Cinderella saw Jenna approach, and slipped back out of the ballroom. She didn’t want to be rude, but she needed the time she had to find Ty.

  Moving into one of the many rooms between the palace entrance and the ballroom, Cinderella looked up to the ornately carved vaulted ceiling as the sounds of the orchestra drifted toward her.

  She’d looked everywhere. She’d circled the ballroom five times, keeping to the edges and studying every male server she spotted. She’d wandered through every corridor she could find, and had asked countless maids and butlers if they knew a messenger named Ty. The palace staff had to be vast, she concluded—not a single one of them had heard of him.

  A server with a tray of empty glasses went into a dark corridor she’d not spotted before, so she headed toward it, but turned as she heard the clack of high-heeled shoes behind her.

  Her breath caught in her chest. Her stepmother was crossing the mosaic-tiled floor.

  Heart sprinting and rising to her throat, Cinderella knew she should run, but her feet wouldn’t move. If only she could melt into the floor, or disappear into the gilded walls to avoid notice.

  She braced herself for a tirade, but instead her stepmother curtsied. “Excuse me, miss, could you direct me to the dining hall? I’m seeking my disobedient daughters and if I find them stuffing their faces with food . . .” Her voice trailed off, realizing she’d shared more than she’d meant to, and she smiled in a manner that looked almost polite.

  Cinderella decided not to question her good fortune. Perhaps the festivities had put her stepmother into a good mood. “The dining room is just down this corridor.” She gestured in the direction her stepmother should follow. “But I was just there and didn’t see Agatha or Gwendolyn.”

  Her stepmother started and her face lit up. “You’re acquainted with my daughters?”

  “Of course.” Cinderella looked at her stepmother quizzically. This had to be some kind of cruel trick, the setup for a crushing blow.

  “I’m not surprised.” Her stepmother touched Cinderella’s arm with a gloved hand. “Possessing great beauty like your own, I have no idea how the prince will choose between them.”

  “Whom am I meant to choose between?” a male voice asked, and Cinderella’s heart nearly stopped.

  The voice had come from behind Cinderella, and her stepmother fell into a deeper curtsy, lowering her head, so Cinderella followed suit. This had to be the prince, but his voice sounded oddly familiar.

  A pair of simple but finely made black leather shoes came into view and Cinderella tipped her head from her curtsy to let her eyes drift up black trousers to the deep purple velvet waistcoat of a man with a very fine shape. A fine shape, indeed. It was Ty.

  “Stand, ladies, please,” he said.

  She snapped up. “You. Wha—” She wanted to question Ty, but couldn’t give him away to her stepmother. She knew by now how much he liked disguises, but certainly he’d be in deep trouble if he was caught impersonating the prince. Especially tonight.

  “I’m so glad I finally found you,” Ty said with a soft smile on his face as he looked into her eyes. “Have you been avoiding me, Cinderella?”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. Ty. Tiberius? No, it wasn’t possible. Just a coincidence. It couldn’t be.

  Diverting her gaze from Ty to Cinderella, her stepmother’s respectful expression transformed into one of surprise, then hatred. But just as quickly, she donned her mask of graciousness and turned back to Ty.

  “Your Highness, I am so honored to meet . . .” Her tight voice trailed off midsentence as anger strangled her clipped words.

  “This is my stepmother, Your Highness,” Cinderella said. She disliked using the formal greeting for Ty, but if he’d fooled her stepmother into believing he was the prince, she might as well keep up with the charade.

  “I feel sure we’ve met before,” Ty said as he bowed slightly toward her stepmother. “In any case, I’m delighted to meet Cinderella’s family.” He sent Cinderella the briefest of mischievous glances before turning back to her stepmother and continuing. “She’s quite enchanting, if hard to track down. I’ve been hoping for a dance with her all evening.”

  “I didn’t realize you were acquainted,” her stepmother said through gritted teeth.

  Cinderella felt sure that at any moment fire might fly from her stepmother’s eyes.

  “Cinderella,” her stepmother said, her voice dripping with icicles,“you are a selfish girl. You really must introduce your sisters to the prince.”

  “Yes, of course.” Cinderella looked at Ty, starting to think he really might be the prince.

  Ty turned to her stepmother and said, “Madam, if your other daughters are half as charming as Cinderella, I should very much like to meet them. Might you locate them for me right now?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Her stepmother bowed and curtsied as she backed away, but still managed to sneer at Cinderella.

  It was no matter. The happiness surrounding Cinderella formed a shield. Whether Ty was a messenger or a hunter or a prince didn’t matter; she’d found him.

  As soon as her stepmother had gone, she turned to Ty. “Are you really the prince?” She looked up at what had to be a genuine royal crown ringing his tied-back blond curls, then backed up a step. He was the prince—and he’d lied. “You tricked me.”

  “Not on purpose. But I am sorry. Can you forgive me?” He reached for her hand.

  She resisted the temptation to pull her hand away, and her fingers felt small and warm as he held them.

  “I’m so sorry I deceived you,” he said. “I can’t see t
he kingdom, not really, unless I go out in disguise. It’s amazing how no one recognizes me when I’ve got my hair down and I’m not wearing all this finery.” He ran his hand down the front of his velvet jacket. “Dressed as a servant, or beggar, or hunter, most people dismiss me, and don’t bother to notice my resemblance to, well, myself.” He grinned. “Helps that I borrow clothes from different people all the time, too.”

  Cinderella couldn’t imagine ever seeing Ty’s eyes, his kind smile, and the sharp, strong angle of his jaw without instantly recognizing him. She winced as she remembered how incredibly rude her stepmother had been to Ty over the past few days. She marveled at how polite he’d been to her now.

  Speaking of her stepmother . . . “I understand what you mean about some people not seeing past clothing or circumstance or what job you hold. It just happened to me.”

  “What do you mean?” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, sending a spark of joy through her that warmed her cheeks.

  “My own stepmother has seen me every day since I was five years old, yet she didn’t recognize me tonight, dressed like this. Not until you said my name.”

  A look of shock flashed over Ty’s face and he pulled her closer. Her skirt brushed against his clothing.

  Ty looked into her eyes, and Cinderella felt as if more than their hands were touching. Her heart thumped, her breaths quickened, and her chest rose and fell. The air had suddenly turned thicker and sweeter this close to Ty.

  “Your stepmother must be as blind as she is rude.” His voice was low and deep. “Your beauty shines through, no matter what clothes you are wearing.”

  “My stepmother’s never seen me in anything but rags.”

  “Really?”

  Cinderella nodded and bit down on her tongue. If she slipped and told him about the entrapment spells, they’d both be turned to stone, and there was no assurance any wizard could break her stepmother’s black magic.

  Taking her hand, Ty led her into another room, farther from the ballroom. “I don’t want us to be interrupted if your stepmother finds your stepsisters. You’re the only member of your family I want to talk to tonight.”

  She couldn’t stop smiling. “Are you really the prince?” She mostly believed it, but wanted to be sure . . . and change the subject. There was no way she would let her family taint her thoughts.

  “Disappointed?” His brow wrinkled.

  “Why would I be disappointed?”

  “Well, I heard from a reliable source that the prince is stuck up, not to mention a jerk who expects any girl he meets to immediately fall at his feet.” He gave her a dimpled grin.

  Her cheeks grew hotter and she averted her gaze for a moment. “I’m sorry. I was wrong to make assumptions. Can you forgive me?”

  He cupped her cheek. “I might forgive you if you grant me a kiss.”

  Her breath hitched and the world seemed to spin around her as if she were lost in space and time, floating, caught up in magic, although she felt sure no spell had been cast.

  His lips brushed over hers, soft as a butterfly landing, and her body instantly arched to close the distance between them. His hand shifted to her lower back, rested there, and their lips pressed together more firmly. Being in Ty’s arms felt more wonderful than anything she’d felt in her life. Exciting yet safe, powerful yet gentle, foreign yet home.

  “Excuse me, Your Highness,” a voice said, breaking though the heavenly haze. Ty’s lips lifted from hers.

  Nerves suddenly overtaking her, she stepped back and ran her hands over the bodice of her gown, hoping to quiet her pounding heart, which surely everyone could hear. The man who’d interrupted was dressed in a uniform like the one Ty had been wearing when they first met.

  “What is it, John?” Ty asked the intruder, while his intense gaze, so deep she felt it inside her, never left Cinderella.

  “The king and queen have requested your presence in the ballroom,” the messenger said.

  Ty stepped closer to Cinderella, and regret came through his smile to his eyes. “I must step away for a moment, but I expect a dance from you later—several, in fact. Alas, for now, duty calls. Will you please excuse me?” He kissed her hand.

  “Of course.” If anyone understood obligations, Cinderella did.

  “On second thought,” he said, “come with me. It took so long to find you, I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” He took her hand.

  Suddenly, she glanced up to the grandfather clock at the side of the room and gasped. “I have to get home.”

  Sadness crept into his eyes. “But we haven’t even danced.”

  Although she couldn’t dance, although she hated the idea of all those eyes in the ballroom upon her at once, she couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than being back in Ty’s arms and twirling around the dance floor. But she had less than thirty minutes to get home.

  “I really must leave,” she said.

  “Don’t be silly. It’s not even midnight.” Ty grabbed her and spun her around so quickly she burst out laughing. “Besides, you need to be here when I announce my choice of bride.”

  Her cheeks burned, the back of her throat caught, and her heart galloped wildly. Surely he didn’t mean he’d pick her, but if not, mentioning it like this would be cruel—and Ty was not cruel.

  She looked into his eyes. “I’d stay if I could, but it’s crucial I arrive home by midnight.”

  “More important than this?” He leaned forward, his face close to hers. She thought he might kiss her again, right in front of the messenger, but Ty only winked.

  “Do you really have to leave now?” he asked.

  “If I don’t get home by midnight . . . it’s a life-or-death situation.” Life or mouse, anyway. “But I can’t explain.”

  “Does this have to do with your stepmother, perchance?”

  Cinderella looked down and clutched the fabric of her dress.

  He pulled her hands from the dress and held them. “I know you’d stay if you could.” He turned to the messenger. “ Tell my parents I’ll join them shortly.” He leaned in close to whisper into Cinderella’s ear. “But not until I arrange for someone to escort you safely home.” He signaled to a footman, who nodded and darted off.

  “Thank you.” Her heart swelled. In one of his carriages, she’d arrive home in time to save Max.

  “And with your permission”—he shot her a nervous grin as they walked hand in hand toward the front entrance—“I have something important I’d very much like to discuss with you. Something related to the announcement I’m supposed to make.”

  As they stepped outside, her heart nearly burst with joy, but she tried not to raise her expectations too high. The idea flashing through her mind—that Ty might actually chose her to be his bride—seemed outrageous, given her standing in society, or rather, her lack thereof. But if she was right and became engaged to the prince, there was no way her stepmother could keep her enslaved. She’d be free.

  She tried not to let herself get carried away. Better to enjoy the fantasy while it lasted.

  They paused at the top of the stairs heading down from the castle to the drive.

  “The carriage will be here in a moment.” He brought her hands to his lips and gently kissed them, spreading warmth inside her.

  “This has been the most marvelous day,” she said. “I had no idea. I never imagined . . .”

  “I take it the prince wasn’t as bad as you expected?”

  “Hardly.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m so glad I managed to suffer through meeting him.”

  He leaned down toward her, and she closed her eyes in anticipation of another kiss.

  When his lips failed to land, she opened her eyes to find him frozen in place, inches from her, lips puckered.

  “You ungrateful brat!” her stepmother shrieked, and Cinderella spun around to see the evil woman striding toward them, her wand raised and ready to strike again.

  Her stepmother had used black magic at the ball after all. At any moment, one of the guar
ds or the carriage could arrive. Her stepmother was taking huge risks considering that she could be easily detected, but at this point, it seemed she’d do anything to kill Cinderella’s happiness and punish her.

  She glanced down the drive, and her heart sank. The carriage, about ten feet away from the base of the steps, had stopped, too. She looked up to see one of the guards looking down from a balustrade, a grin on his face, clearly hoping to get a peek at the kiss. Her stepmother had frozen them all. Had she frozen time, too?

  “Unfreeze him,” Cinderella said, bracing her shoulders. “He’s the prince! What are you doing?”

  “Yes, he’s the prince, and you’re unworthy of him, not to mention a conniving, disobedient liar who broke my spell and sneaked out of my house!” Her stepmother circled Cinderella and the frozen prince, eyeing him as if he were one of her glass statues that she might break with the flick of a wrist. “I wonder which you care about more—your life, or his.” She poked Ty’s frozen arm and he wobbled.

  “Stop that!” Cinderella’s chest tightened with anger, defiance, and fear. “What have you done?” She strode toward her stepmother and grabbed her arm. She needed to leave to save Max, but couldn’t bear to leave Ty frozen this way.

  Cinderella looked up at the clock tower. “Unfreeze him. Now, please. I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

  Her stepmother grinned and tapped her wand against her palm. “Anything, hmm? I’m feeling generous. Perhaps we can strike some sort of a bargain.”

  Cinderella gritted her teeth.

  “If you promise never to disobey me again, never to leave the house, and, most importantly, to forget today ever happened . . .” Her grin widened, but her eyes narrowed before she continued, “. . . then I promise not to turn your prince into dust.”

  Cinderella cringed as she was smacked by the full impact of her stepmother’s boundless cruelty. Her thirst for power over others seemed insatiable, and if it were left unchecked, she wouldn’t stop until she ruled the kingdom. No matter what happened here tonight, Cinderella vowed to spend the rest of her days finding a way to expose her stepmother’s evil ambitions.