Mariette gripped her apron in breathless anticipation. The shoe had not fit her elder stepsister, Margaret, but now it was Lenora's turn. Lenora's feet were decidedly smaller than Margaret's, and Mariette began to worry that the shoe would indeed fit her obnoxious stepsister. Lenora was not beautiful, nor was she even remotely attractive. Her beaklike nose overwhelmed her face and her mouth was thin and tight, set in a permanent scowl. Mariette sat on the hard wooden chair, caked with dust and debris, and watched as her future began to unfold.
The prince--Alexander as he had insisted she call him--fell gently to one knee, slipper in hand. In one quick yet earth-shattering movement, he slid the shoe into place. It was a perfect fit.
Mariette unclenched her apron swiftly. "No," she whispered, but she was unheard.
Lenora was busy spinning in circles, squealing enthusiastically. The prince remained kneeled on the floor, his eyes wide and unbelieving as they focused on the wood. Mariette noticed that her stepmother had joined Lenora in her enthusiastic twirls. By the time they had stopped, Alexander had risen to his feet.
"My lady," he said, bowing to Lenora. "I would be honored if you would accept my offer of marriage."
The twirls resurfaced, but not for long. Mariette's stepmother gripped Lenora's shoulders, freezing her in place.
"Say yes," she hissed in her ear. Lenora was happy to oblige.
"Of course, you must come to my castle to live. Your mother and sister as well. And I insist that we bring a trusted servant of yours." His eyes roved the room, searching for the lucky servant. They rested on Mariette and widened in shock and recognition. "Her," he said intensely, his eyes staying locked on Mariette's.
"Her?" Lenora sneered. "She is not but a cinder girl, and filthy at that!"
Alexander glanced briefly at his betrothed, before again turning to Mariette. "Her," he repeated.
Mariette felt her heart begin to beat rapidly in her chest and hoped he couldn't hear it.