Chapter Three
“There is darkness in light, there is pain in joy, and there are thorns on the rose.”
-Cate Tiernan
I sat in my room staring at myself in the mirror. My hair had been wild and undone after my furious run home; the gorgeous ball gown was out of sight, tucked away in the back of my wardrobe, along with the glass slipper that was hidden where no one would find it. A tear slipped past, the first tear I would allow after I got home. And it had been two days. I would never see him again, and he would never see me as Anastasia. He would always know me as Cinderella, and once he met Cinderella, I would be forgotten. I held up the letter that had arrived yesterday, reading it for the third time in the past hour. My eyes read over it to remind me, remind me that this was real. I kept skimming the same part over and over again in shock of the long scroll:
‘Prince Charming of Bendreya has chosen his bride, but because he can only rely on her name and has only her glass slipper to find her, he will search every home for the beautiful maiden. Her name is not being released because that will lead other women to give false information. This search will go on until he finds the woman who captured his heart.’
I dropped the letter on my vanity. My hand shook as I reached for the brush to help my hair stay down. This was happening. This was actually happening. How would I tell Cinderella? Cinderella had already seen the letter, as my mother read it loudly in front of her and my sister and I. Cinderella had looked to me first when she heard about it. She knew I had ‘lost’ my shoe on my run here. And she was more than curious as to why I had run and not taken the carriage with my mother and sister. I had told her I needed air, and she hadn’t believed me. Not that I blame her.
“Ana…?” A small voice asked from behind me. I turned to cast my eyes on my door, where Cinderella’s head peaked out from cautiously. I smiled and waved her inside and got up to greet her. She closed the door once she was inside and I sat down on my bed, patting the spot next to me.
“Hey Ella.” I whispered.
“How…are you?” She wondered trying to get a read on my emotions.
“I’ll be good.” I nodded to reassure her, “There’s something I have to tell you.” I sighed.
She sat down her blue eyes searching mine, “Does it have to do with the ball?”
I looked up from my lap shocked, “How did you know?”
“You’ve been kind of…unapproachable since then.” She said sheepishly.
“Oh…sorry.” I murmured, “I did something to help you out…with the help of someone. I can’t let you know all of the details…but I know how you can get away from here.” I sighed. One last chance…going once…going twice…
“What is it?” She frowned trying to think of what I could’ve done.
Gone. “I told the prince…that I was you. And now he’s looking for me-or well for you. He wants to marry you Cinderella! You can finally escape from this life!” Don’t you dare cry Anastasia. I reprimanded myself; glad my voice didn’t go shaky.
“You what?! But why?” Her incredulous eyes met mine.
I sighed, “Because…you like him.” I liked him too, I thought to myself, “and you deserve a guy who will be kind to you.” Me too, “And you don’t deserve how my mother you treats you…you don’t deserve the life of a maid when you’re my sister. You don’t deserve this life.” I smiled softly, wondering if I said that for her benefit or to reassure myself.
Cinderella jumped off the bed, excitement in her voice, “I can’t believe you did that for me! Oh Ana!” She pulled me in for a hug, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
I smiled softly. I was doing the right thing, “You’re welcome.”
Watching and listening to Cinderella droned on and on about the prince, and about how she loves him and can’t wait until she can meet him, and express her love for him was in one word: painful. In two words: Heart wrenching. The way she pulled at her dress, that was once a vibrant yellow and now a faded grey, when she wanted to emphasize how lovely his voice was. The expression of pure adoration and blissfulness of love as she talked about how he looks, was her taking my heart and ripping in in half. Slowly. How she talked about his strong chiseled jaw that leads up to his perfect plump lips, was her taking half of my heart out of my chest with her grimy, dirty hands. When she talked about how she had run into him at the market- in disguise so no one would recognize him, but she did- and he helped her up, his embrace warm against her body, that was her slamming that piece of my heart down on the ground. When his crystalline blue eyes met hers, and he asked if he had met her before, with his curly brown hair messily laying about was when she slammed her foot down on that broken piece. Jumping around on it violently.
But there I sat opposite of her, smiling and nodding and agreeing whenever appropriate. The one thing that scared me the most was the expression in her eyes. That little glint, a small spark of something that I couldn’t quite recognize or put my finger on, flashed in her eyes. It wasn’t…right. Something was definitely off. It was like she knew she was torturing me! She couldn’t possibly know that though. Cinderella was hidden from the cruel world after her dad died. She had a kind smile and a caring attitude; maybe I was just…seeing things. Cinderella’s mind was drowning in her own little world, where she was in love. With Prince Christopher. That she loved! The man…I also loved. But Cinderella deserved him, to have him, to get out of this life.
But what if she didn’t actually love him? I shook my head inwardly at that thought. Who am I kidding? Of course she loves him! This isn’t just puppy love! Staring at Cinderella after I had finished talking about the plan of how to get her out of this life, she looked happy. More than happy even! Ecstatic. Overjoyed. Everything would be right again for her. She would have no more evil stepmother, no more evil stepsister, but was I that bad?
I sighed and smiled at Cinderella as she started talking about what she should where when Prince Christopher got here, “I’ll let you borrow something of mine.” I murmured as I lead her to my closet.
