xiii.

"YOU WERE MUCH TOO IMPOSING on his majesty King Alexander," Prudence, the head of castle staff spoke after a tedious while of eyeing Isadora Tremaine as though she was fresh produce the servants had fetched from the market for the palace pantry-trying to find faults that declared themselves willingly on the girl's exterior.

Meanwhile, in the now expired silence, the palace physician-a stout and worrisome man-had been merely speaking to himself under his breath as he applied a salve over Isa's bare ailing ankle and was now in the process of carefully wrapping it in white cloth bandages so as to keep the salve in place and force it to do it's due on the girl's fair skin.

"Do you not care for the royal etiquette, young lady?" The woman spoke when Isadora merely cast her a blank glance.

"In my twenty five years of working at the palace, never have I ever seen a more implying young lady," Prudence scrunched up her face in distaste, and Isa had to fist a single hand and dig her nails into the skin of her palm to compose herself and keep from lashing out.

Generally, Isadora Tremaine was a very composed lady-in fact the girl used her composure as a shield, and had done so for long now. But at present, her state of mind was altered and her heart refused to fall into it's daily manner of being, all because of the bold King Alexander Casimir of Angria. His words, his eyes-his implications-had altered her default state of being, and she was left grasping at herself, trying to dig deep for her composure that just wouldn't surrender to her at present.

"The king is new here," Prudence continued, after waiting for a response from Isadora but getting nothing in return.

"But should that mean that a girl throw herself onto him as though she were fish and he a fishmonger? He's a foreign king, his manner of suggesting things is to be expected considering he has little idea about the reservations in our kingdom in regards to our propriety and etiquette. But that hardly gives you leave to behave like this, especially considering he summoned you as his guest."

Isadora shut her eyes briefly, frustration tugging at every nerve in her body.

"You are something of a... beauty, I suppose, which can explain why his majesty King Alexander decided to be a little more... open, with you, but you clearly took advantage of that and I hardly have any doubt that he's already most regretful at paying you the attention that he did."

Isa saw servants glance warily at her as they passed through the infirmary, wearing varying looks of curiosity and submissiveness, trying to decipher why King Alexander Casimir's guest-who should've been treated otherwise in accordance with the standard-was getting such a lecture from the head of the palace staff.

"Have you no dignity? You should be grateful that you are even here, and have spent some moments in his company. Not every common girl in the kingdom gets such an opportunity."

Isadora schooled herself, keeping her gaze fixed ahead at the door that King Alexander Casimir had left through, as she found her composure back again and allowed it to consume her entirely. Her composure stifled the raging fire inside her every time. It made everything more bearable.

"King Alexander is no Prince Charming," The woman folded her arms across her chest, her hard features twisted in distaste as she grew increasingly frustrated at Isadora's lack of responsiveness.

"Did you expect him to ask for your hand?" Prudence hissed then, lowering her sharp voice to keep the passing servants from hearing.

"Just because you caught his attention at the ball last night? The King of Angria is young, but he is not foolish. He is thirty years of age, and if you had such a thing in mind before arriving here, you are indeed a fool."

Isadora exhaled slowly, before sharply whipping her eyes towards the haughty woman, all of the girl's hatred and anger diluted inside her ebony orbs.

She stood up on her feet, her bandaged ankle only faintly throbbing-much bearable-as the physician stood at a side, packing up the extra bandages and salve.

"I understand your worries," Isadora Tremaine began, her voice firm as she glared into Prudence's heavily lined eyes.

"But don't you dare speak to me like that again, because you hold no authority over me."

The woman's red painted lips parted in shock like a fish's, her eyes widening as though she hadn't expected-or even been-reprimanded before.

"See to your palace staff please," Isa raised a brow and gestured with her eyes over Prudence's shoulder at a maid who had stopped and was gaping at the scene unfolding in front of her with shock.

"Of which the King Alexander Casimir and I, are clearly not part."

The woman let out a delayed gasp, her arms coming loose from their state of being crossed across her chest. But before the woman could say something, a guard was at the infirmary door, clearing his throat to get the attention he required.

Isadora Tremaine looked at him, only to find the uniformed man holding the hand of her son at his side.

"Mama!" Archie exclaimed in relief and delight, breaking out of the guard's grip on his hand and running towards her as fast as his little legs would carry him.

He wrapped his arms around Isa's lower half, burying his face in her dress.

"I was playing with horses, mama, and he came and wouldn't let me anymore."

Isadora breathed out slowly as she put a hand on her son's head, stroking his hair as her eyes met Prudence's.

"I had someone fetch your little... companion," The woman re-crossed her arms across her chest again, her brows rising in judgement.

She had clearly assumed that Archie was only a mere companion to Isa, but apparently she didn't think the same anymore.

"As you said to the king, you are leaving, are you not?" She stated simply.

"We are," Isadora managed thickly, plastering a smile on her face. "Thank you for fetching my son."

Prudence's features scattered in horror, but Isa didn't prolong her glance towards her.

She bent down to address Archie, using her palms to smoothen his brown curls away from his face as they were getting into his eyes, rebellious as they fell over his forehead.

"We have to go sweetheart," She spoke, placing a gentle kiss on his supple cheek.

"Mama hurt her foot, and she's so sorry that you had to be separated from the horses because of it."

Instantaneously, Archie's expression morphed into concern as he dropped his eyes to the ground, looking at Isa's bandaged ankle peeking out slightly from under the hem of her dress.

"Mama..," The little boy trailed, meeting her eyes again in confusion and worry.

"Mama's alright," Isadora beamed at him, pushing past the agony in her heart and putting her bravest front.

"Let's go home? We can have cake and tea while we plant a new seed in the garden. Would you like that?"

Archie nodded and took hold of her hand firmly, attempting to guide her way on account of her injury. Isadora almost teared up at his concern, endearment tackling her heart.

Prudence gestured to the guard who had brought Archie, with a single hand as the man took charge and started leading their way out of the infirmary.

He took Isadora and Archie through the servant frequented path out towards the back, and Isa found herself walking through dreary hidden hallways until she stepped out through a small door after the guard, the afternoon sky outside welcomed her and Archie back.

The guard led them to the waiting carriage towards the front that had undoubtedly been kept waiting for only Isa and Archie, for Cinderella was not going to be accompanying them back.

The gravel crunched under Isadora's steps and Archie kept frequently turning to glance at her foot, worried that something should happen in the alternative seconds he was looking away.

"Darling, stop this. I'm alright," Isa hushed slightly, holding his cheek with her free hand when he turned towards her again, while squeezing the little boy's hand in her other.

"You'll fall if you don't look ahead."

Archie met her eyes dubiously, and then looked ahead to his own path for a few seconds, before resuming his earlier activity, focusing hard on Isa's steps and guiding her.

When they approached the carriage, the guard undid the latch to the door of the vehicle, but before Isadora could help Archie get in, a cry stopped them in their tracks.

"Isadora!"

Isa turned to look, only to find the form of Cinderella-changed out of her dish maid attire into a light blue elegant day dress-as she ran towards the carriage as though the vehicle was scurrying away and she had a train to catch.

Isadora saw the form of Prince Charming in the distance, amongst the greens of the palace grounds, holding onto the reins of a brown horse.

They had been out riding, Cinderella and her prince. All that while, Isa had only been left reeling by King Alexander's words, twisted her ankle and been humiliated by the head of the palace staff.

She felt something tighten around her heart-as though someone kept on making tighter knots on the fish wire that was wrapped around her organ.

"Are you leaving?" Cinderella let out, panting as she approached.

The blonde girl's hair was in disarray now, bits and pieces falling out of her hairdo-a formerly neat style that perhaps a castle maid had done for the princess-to-be.

"Yes," Isa managed, collecting herself.

There was no need to feel this strange hurt and discomfort. Isadora was not Cinderella, and neither would they share the same fate, regardless of which way the world tilted.

Archie shifted himself closer to Isadora's skirts, almost burying himself in their safety as he looked up at Cinderella with cautious blue eyes. In all his time after coming into Isa's custody, the boy had never really got on with Cinderella, both of them keeping their distances from each other with the former-a mere child-gradually learning to do so as the latter continually taught him what distances were.

"Oh," Cinderella let out, her eyes flickering over to Archie once and then landing back to her elder stepsister.

Isadora put her hand on Archie's back, radiating all her security over him.

"I merely just wished-" The blonde girl broke off, disappointment flashing on her face.

"I'm so sorry," She shook her head. "I thought the king would-he danced with you, I assumed he would-"

"He would what?" Isadora uttered when Cinderella paused, frustration in her tone.

"That he would not let you go."

Isa blinked, shock waves reverberating over the surface of her skin at the blatant statement. Instinctively, she pulled Archie closer, finding gravity in her little boy's form-his presence.

"You assumed wrong," Isadora swallowed thickly, not meeting her stepsister's eyes.

"Now, if you will excuse us," She took Archie's hand and helped him climb the two stairs to the carriage seating.

"Wait Isadora," Cinderella urged then, making Isa turn to acknowledge her again once Archie's form disappeared inside the carriage.

"Will you -," The girl broke off then, anxiety evident in the delicate features of her face as she glanced over her shoulder at the distant form of Prince Charming waiting by the horse in the far distance, his eyes fixed on the scene from a far.

"Will you come to the wedding?" She let out then, words in a rush to get out from between her lips.

"Won't the whole kingdom?" Isadora suggested blankly, not understanding the request. Surely there was already an abundance of guests, and Cinderella hadn't even yet picked out a wedding dress-or maybe she had.

This wasn't the kind of wedding where one worried who will and who won't show up. This wasn't the kind of wedding invitations were really required. This wasn't the kind of wedding where you asked someone to attend.

"Yes, I mean," The blonde girl swallowed, holding her elbow nervously. "I would like a member of the family to be there-to attend to me, I mean. I would feel pathetic and I can't ask anyone else because I'd much rather it be you."

Isadora couldn't believe what she was hearing. "To attend to you?"

Cinderella faltered, sighing. "I mean just to be there. Not in the crowd but.. beside me, or behind me or near me. Whatever you would prefer."

"The prince," She glanced back briefly over her shoulder once again before meeting Isa's gaze again. "He used the words. I intended to ask you all along since I met him in the throne room today, but he said that I needed someone from the family to attend to me. I'm not insensitive to how it sounds, so forgive me."

Not insensitive, Isadora thought with a sour taste in her mouth. That word was all Isa could think of to describe Cinderella. Insensitive was all the girl had been, ever since Archie came into the chateau and into the lives inside it. But though Isa despised her dismissive behavior towards her little child, she knew it wasn't the girl's due nor her fault-especially since how Lucinda and Lady Tremaine had treated her. Isadora too had been vile and vicious towards Cinderella when she was but a mere girl, but Isa had grown up fast and detached herself from everything she had once been, and in her eyes, Lucinda and Cinderella had long stopped growing.

But now here she was, watching Cinderella about to get married to the kingdom's prince.

"Please come," Cinderella urged then, her eyes glassy. "It will be a comfort to me, and perhaps maybe it will encourage the King of Angria. Maybe he will realize-"

If Isa had even thought about giving in and saying yes, her mind abruptly changed as the blonde haired girl blabbered on, her words a stream of consciousness that infuriated Isadora.

"Stop," Isa let out then, her tone hard. "You don't get to play matchmaker for me just because you will become a princess now. Don't assume that you know what I want, I won't stand here and let you pretend that you know what I want."

Cinderella's brows furrowed. "I'm not! I'm sorry if it is coming off this way but that is not what I mean when I say that I want you to be there on my wedding day."

Isadora turned around in order to get into the waiting carriage.

"Please Isadora," The blonde haired girl cried out, hushing her voice lest the prince-much in the distance-heard.

"If you don't come then the prince or the king will ask Lady Tremaine and Lucinda. I can't begin to explain to the royals-or deter them-of the brokenness of my relationship with the family. I can't bring myself to do that right now. Please just please come. I'd rather have you."

Isa paused briefly, her back to Cinderella. She understood why the girl was asking, she knew that the princess-to-be had no other choice, stuck at a crossroads as she was.

Isadora Tremaine pitied her stepsister then, but in herself she only found her surety swallowing her sympathy. No pity could ever sway Isa to force herself into a room where she was wanted only conditionally.

She had long spent her whole life being conditionally wanted by her own mother and sister, and a father who had gone too early, laying conditions for the rest of Isa's life even in his death.

Being conditionally wanted was a curse that she was doomed to pursue regardless, for she sought a loveless marriage with wealth. But to actively put herself in continuous rooms that betrayed the same sentiment to her? If it came between poisoning herself slowly or taking an immediate large gulp, she would happily choose the latter.

"I'm sorry," Isa spoke then, "But I'd rather not attend."

With that, Isadora hoisted herself into the carriage led by the chauffeur's eager hand as she clasped it briefly to help her ascent, once again being grateful for the barrier of her gloves.

"Why?" Cinderella cried out then, frustration evident in the young girl's tone as she all but put her head through the open window of the carriage.

"Why are you so.. jealous of me?

Isa startled at the word-shocked at the implication of a sentiment that she had often considered a dozen times when she had thought about Cinderella, but never quite related to.

Isadora didn't deem it worthy enough for an answer, taking in the hysteric form of the princess-to-be as the girl gaped at Isa with blue eyes full of remorse and accusation.

"Please carry on," Isadora spoke instead, her voices directed to the chauffeur who obediently pulled at the reins as the carriage lurched forwards and began pulling out of the palace grounds.

Isa looked briefly at the form of her stepsister staring at the retreating form of the carriage with disbelief, as she pulled Archie's form close to her, taking comfort in the boy's warmth. Archie leaned his head against her, going limp in her embrace.

The palace decreased in size like a fake gem being rubbed with friction as the sparkle grew but the size diminished. In this much-past-afternoon light, the palace stood as a surety over the landscape-a confirmation and a promise. Yet to Isadora it had offered nothing all her life, and she knew it never will.

***

A/N:
finished this chapter in my uni library<3 the vibes were mid but that's alright i guess