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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1690827
What happened if the shoe fit someone else?
“It fits?” the ugly step-sister Drizella asked in shock and disbelief. The prince looked up at the sister. She was everything but beautiful. This could not have been the girls he fell in love with the night before.

“Wh… What?” Cinderella whispered gently under her breath. She dropped her broom loudly and ran upstairs. Everyone, including the prince, turned their heads and watcher her disappear.

“Who was that?” the prince asked, “Maybe she, too, should try on the glass slipper.”

“No!” the step-mother over-excitedly yelled. “That’s just my step-daughter. She doesn’t… uh… get out much,” she said through an evil smile.

“I see,” the disappointed prince said.

“What’s next?” the sister squealed. Excitement radiated through her ugly, fat body.

“To the palace,” the prince told her with a fake smile. “The shoe fits. You must be the girl I fell in love with last night.”

“I am,” Drizella lied. “I am, I am, I am, I am!” She jumped up so fast; her elbow smacked the prince right in the nose.

“Oh! Your highness! Are you okay?” the step-mother asked.

“I think my nose is bleeding,” he yelled. “Please, may I have a towel?”

“Cinderella!” the mother and sister screamed simultaneously. Cinderella hesitantly re-entered the room; hoping and praying that the prince had since left.

"Yes mother?” she meekly asked, being sure to avoid all eye contact with the prince. She just stared self-consciously at the floor.

“Get our guest a towel; he’s bleeding all over the floor.”

“Yes mother,” she obeyed. As she walked into the bathroom in search of their best towel, her heart pounded. “It was me!” her heart yelled, “you should love me!”

“Cinderella!” her mother barked to her. What else is knew? Cinderella thought. She grabbed the first towel she saw and dashed out the door.

“Well it’s about time!” her sister snapped. Cinderella held the towel up to the prince. As he went to grab it, she accidentally made eye contact with him.

As soon as his eyes hit hers his heart pounded as well. Her eyes suddenly fell to the floor, but his remained the same. The girl awed him. She was beautiful. She didn’t even have to try. Rather than wearing expensive, bright clothing like her sisters and mother, she wore brown rags that did nothing to accent her astonishing figure.

Her face did not have a drop of makeup, but there was a tiny smudge of dirt on her forehead. He yearned to reach out and wipe it off for her, but in this brief moment, he was frozen. The girl’s hair was unkempt, matted to her head. He’s never seen a head of hair much like hers. Not even his maids had such messy hair. She fiddled with one unruly strand and forced it behind her ear. They were not pierced. He desired to buy the most expensive jewels to pierce her ears, although he knew not even the rarest, most expensive jewels in all the land could make her look any more beautiful and real.

That’s it, he thought to himself. She is a real girl. He was a fancy prince. He could have any woman in the land, yet the only one he wanted was her.

“Hello madam,” he bowed to Cinderella’ her mother gasped. “I am the prince, as you know. I am most pleased to meet you.”

Cinderella looked up at the prince. She was at a loss of words. No one is ever nice to her. In fact, no one ever really talks to her, unless they’re barking orders.

“What do you say to the prince, Cinderella?” her mother said in an obnoxious baby voice.

“He...Hello Prince. I am Cinderella. Welcome to our home. Is your nose okay?”

“My nose?” he questioned. At the sight of Cinderella he had completely forgot about his injury. “I am afraid I bled all over the floor.”

“Its okay, Prince. I will clean it once you’ve left,” Cinderella assured him.

“You’re leaving with me,” he demanded.

“Oh no, she doesn’t go out. Aren’t you here to find the girl you fell for last night at the ball? Surely you haven’t forgotten about my daughter Drizella,” her mother pried. The prince was brainwashed by the beauty of Cinderella, but he couldn’t forget about the pure love he felt last night at the ball.

“Of course,” he said with a breath-taking smile. He extended his hand to Drizella. Cinderella frowned and tried to hold back tears as she watched her awful step-sister walk off with the man that is rightfully hers.

“You should be happy for your sister,” her disgusting mother insisted. “She will be the next Princess, and eventually she will be Queen of all the land. Do you know what that means for us?”

“What, mother?” she asked as she choked back tears.

“I will live in wealth and privilege. I can move out of this dreaded house and into the castle. As for you, dear Cinderella, I’m sure the royal stables will need scrubbing!” she laughed a wretched laugh that sent chills down Cinderella’s spine.

Cinderella retreated back to her room in the attic. She say by the windowsill and watched the horses that carried the prince and horses that carried the prince and Drizella back to the palace.

“It was me,” Cinderella sobbed to the birds and mice around her. They gave her a reassuring pat, but that wasn’t enough.

As she sobbed and sobbed and mumbled hateful words to herself, her Fairy Godmother appeared behind her. She ever so gently placed her hand on Cinderella’s shoulder.

“There, there, child,” she comforted Cinderella. “No need for tears.”

“But Fairy Godmother, he’s gone. He came for his true love and left with Drizella,” Cinderella sobbed.

“His true love is you my dear. You know in your heart that it is true,” the fairy godmother explained. “You know it is you.”

“Oh Godmother, will you please help me?”

“What else would I be here for, love?” she asked with an adorable wink.

“Thank you, of thank you Fairy Godmother!” Cinderella yelled as she through herself at the fairy’s feet.

***
At the castle
***

“I don’t believe it!” Drizella squealed in her awful and annoying voice. “I’m getting married to a prince!”

“Yes, my dear, yes. Last night at the ball was so amazing! You were the best dancer in all of the Kingdom. It was a shame I could hardly see your face, but…” he hesitated to swallow loudly, “here you are!” the prince exclaimed.

Dancer? Drizella thought to herself. “Yes, of course. I could dance all day and night if you so wish,” she lied. She couldn’t hold a beat if her life depended on it.

“Then why, may I ask, did you run off, out of nowhere at midnight last night?” The prince was hurt as he watched the young lady run out on him last night. He had vowed that he would neither love nor marry anyone in the kingdom until she was found.

“Oh that,” Drizella said in an uneasy voice. She was the best liar in the land, she just needed a second or two to come up with a good answer. “It was my mother,” she lied. “My curfew was midnight. I knew if I wasn’t home, she’d never let me see you again.” She smiled a fake, cheesy smile. It did nothing for the prince.

He couldn’t help but think about Drizella’s sister, Cinderella. Now, if she had flashed a smile at him as Drizella just had, his heart would have surely melted.

“It’s weird that your mother would require you to be home while you were out with the prince,” he said. He noticed the uneasiness spread across Drizella’s face.

“That’s my mother for you.” She forced a laugh and turned her head to gaze out the window. “What a beautiful kingdom,” she diverted.

“Indeed,” he agreed as he walked up behind her. He gently placed his hand on the small of her back. It did not feel familiar. She did not smell familiar. Nothing about the girl in front of him was familiar. He would have known, he thought, if this was the girl he fell in love with last night.

“Drizell…” the prince started but was soon interrupted by the King.

“Here she is!” the King excitedly yelled as he barged though the doors. Drizella’s face lit up in awe as she looked up at the King.

That’s funny, the prince thought, didn’t she see him lat night at the ball?

“Your majesty,” she bowed. She could not hide the smile on her face.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you!” the King exclaimed. “You look so fertile,” he said as he reached out to touch her belly.

“That’s enough,” the prince interrupted as hit away the King’s incoming hand. The King’s cheek’s reddened for a moment but he soon snapped out of it.

“Very nice to finally meet you,” the Kind repeated as he left the room. Drizella could only giggle.

“Now what?” she asked the prince.

“Well,” he pondered, “I guess we shall plan the wedding. Shall we ask your sisters and mother for help?”

“My sisters?” she questioned, “Why, I only have one, Anastasia. Don’t you remember her? We were together last night at the ball!”

The prince did not remember another girl at the ball with his love. He distinctly remembered sweeping her away before she even entered the ballroom. They had danced, alone, all night long until she ran away suddenly as midnight.

Nothing about Drizella’s story was making any sense to him. She stared at him with adoring eyes; like she had never before seen him. She seemed to be in shock/ why would the girl he hell in love with the night before be shocked to see him now?

“Drizella?” she started.

“Yes, dear?”

“Where is the glass slipper? The one that didn’t fall off last night?”

“Oh, that,” she nervously laughed, again. “I’m not sure. It’s probably at home.”

“They are such a nice pair of shoes. Why wouldn’t you bring them to the palace to wear for the wedding?”

She giggled uncontrollably. It was apparent she was nervous and lying to the prince. “It didn’t even cross my mind,” she lied and broke out into a sweat.

“What did you plan on wearing on your feet for the wedding then?” he questioned as he eyed her plain and boring sandals she wore on her feet now.

“Is there any way I can send someone to fetch my slippers before we are married?” she asked as she flirtatiously twirled her hair. The prince simply turned his head.

“I shall see,” he loosely promised.

Suddenly the messenger knocked loudly on the door. “Your majesty? Your majesty? Are you in there?” he yelped.

“I am, come in,” the prince demanded. “What’s this all about?”

“You have a visitor, your highness,” the messenger explained.

“Who is it? I’m busy planning a wedding.”

“I think you’re going to want to see this,” he pushed. The prince looked up at Drizella. She seemed upset and confused. Reluctantly, he followed the messenger out of the room and into the common room downstairs.

Before entering the common room he felt uneasy. It was a good kind of uneasy. It felt like butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure what was going on. He thought he was nervous. He thought maybe the visitor was going to cause him grief and trouble.

Upon entering, all his fears were swept away. In fact, all his feelings, other than pure happiness and joy, were swept away. Sat on the couch was the beautiful girl he had met last night. He knew in his heart that was true.

She wore the same dress. She wore the same glass slippers; both slippers. She gave him the same sense of happiness and bliss. She looked up at him. He saw her eyes. He knew her.

“Cinderella?” he questioned as he approached the beauty.

“Prince,” she responded with a flawless smile,

“It was you. I knew it was you,” he said, matching her smile. “Drizella seemed different. She was too shocked to see me and meet my father. Nothing she said made any sense.”

“It was,” he gracefully told him.

“And she lied to me. But so did you! Why didn’t you speak up at your house?” he asked her, confused.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t recognize me or believe me while I was dressed in my rags,” she confessed.

“Cinderella, my dear Cinderella, will you marry me?” the prince proposed.

“I will,” she smiled.

“What?” Drizella shrieked as she ran into the room. “Get out of here Cinderella. You belong in the kitchen not in the castle!”

“Drizella, you lied to me,” the prince accused. “You betrayed my trust.”

“It is Cinderella who is lying!” Drizella tried. “The slipper fit my foot,” she pouted.

“It may have, but they belong to Cinderella.” Drizella began to cry. The prince felt sorry for the pathetic liar in front of him. However, he was so grateful Cinderella came back to him, so they can live happily ever after.
© Copyright 2010 Amanda Rose (amandarose6109 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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