August 21, 2021

#rewindtheclassics21

Short Story written for the Rewind The Classics 2021 Contest.

A retelling of Cinderella: What if Prince Charming was... Princess Charming?

Word Count: 2114

---

The clock struck midnight.

Hera ran as fast as she could. Red high heels in one hand, trains of her dress in the other, she scurried across the corridor, darted past from the gasping guests, and almost bumped into a woman holding a glass of wine. Finally, she jumped over the window.

Away, away from this hellhole!

As the bells of the clock continued to strike, she ran—as fast as her legs could bring her, as much as her lungs could take.

The ball was as terrible as she had anticipated. The uncomfortable stares from her 'suitors', the endless questions about her non-existent love life and her approaching 'expiration date'; they all drove her insane. Why was it that her twin brother got to dance with beautiful, young ladies from all over the country, while she had to deal with those gossipy hags and gross men?

The world was so unfair.

Her bare foot caught on a twig, and she tumbled forward. Grass—wet with dew and sharp like blades—jutted into her mouth.

"Argh!" she exclaimed, pushing herself off the ground while spitting out the dirt.

"Argh!" A similar exclamation echoed.

Hera spun around. Who's here?

Then, her eyes widened.

In front of her stood a gorgeous carriage, with crystals decorating its rim and glistening under the moonlight. But at every strike of the midnight bell, part of the carriage disappeared. First, the crystals; then, the wheels.

Hera watched, mouth agape, as every part of the carriage vanished into thin air, leaving behind a pumpkin. The horses became rats while the coachman became a dog.

And finally, out from the carriage-turned-pumpkin, spat a girl who tumbled onto the floor.

"What the f—"

The curse caught in Hera's throat when the girl turned around.

Porcelain skin as bright as the moon, lips as pink as her tattered dress, the girl looked as though she had come out of a portrait. Her emerald eyes, dusted with golden strands of hair, found Hera's and dilated in fear.

A goddess. She was a goddess. A timid, frightened one, but a stunning goddess nonetheless.

"H- Hello," Hera managed to say.

The girl yelped as she scrambled to get away.

Frantically, Hera called out, "No, no, don't go, please!"

The viridian eyes returned to view, this time, with a tinge of curiosity and a whole lot less fear.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Hera continued, crawling her way slowly towards the girl. "My name is Hera. What's yours?"

"C- Cinderella," she whispered.

"Cinderella? That's a beautiful name." As beautiful as you.

A tinge of pink washed over her cheeks. "T- Thank you. Hera is a nice name too."

"Were you... Were you at the ball? You..." Hera glanced at the pumpkin. "W- Well, you had a carriage..."

Cinderella nodded. "I was at the ball, b- but... I wasn't supposed to..."

"Oh, why not?"

"I'm not... you know, noble," she mumbled, tugging at her imperfect dress.

The shame in her voice angered Hera. "Who cares? You are prettier than any noblewoman I've ever seen in my life," she insisted.

The pink in Cinderella's cheeks flushed a brighter red. She lowered her head as if to hide the small smile that crept up her lips. "W- Were you also at the ball? Your dress is pretty."

"Oh, this?" Hera scoffed as she folded the billowy skirt over her legs. "It's more annoying than anything. And yeah, I was at the ball, but I had to get away. It was terrible."

Cinderella lifted her head, brows furrowed in worry. "Oh, that's too bad. I'm sorry, Hera." The shy smile returned as her head dropped again. "For me, I- I had a pretty good time..."

"That's good to hear." Hera once again blamed her mother for keeping her in the stuffy room full of potential suitors and their old parents. Why couldn't she be in the ballroom, dancing and having the time of her life, like the other young women? She stifled a groan. "The band that they hired played really good music."

"It was! And dancing with everyone was so fun, too." Cinderella let out a longing sigh; her dreamy eyes shimmered like the stars in the sky. "I would dance all night if I could! Except"—a cheeky giggle escaped her lips—"Prince Charming kept trying to steal all my dances."

This time, the groan fully left Hera's throat. She caught herself, and quickly explained to the flustered girl. "Sorry, Cinderella, I'm just- Well, Henri- I mean, Prince Charming, he's... he's my brother." And of course, her brother kept trying to dance with Cinderella! Who could ever resist?

Cinderella's palms flew to her mouth. "Oh my! Y- You're the Princess? I'm- I'm so sorry for my lack of manners..."

Before Cinderella could push herself up for a curtsy, Hera grabbed her arm. "Please, there's no need. We're not at the palace."

The redness in Cinderella's cheeks deepened. As if her body was burning like her cheeks, Hera quickly let go of her. She wrapped her hands around her knees, instead. Cinderella's skin was much smoother than she'd imagined.

"So, do you like Henri?" Hera asked

Cinderella tilted her head to one side; the golden swirls of her hair danced across the air like fairy dust. "Hm, not really," she mused. "He's cute... and he dances well... but he's not really my type."

"Oh?" Hera raised her eyebrows. "What is your type, then?"

Another delightful giggle. "I- I don't know."

"Okay, let me guess... You like the bad boy type."

"Bad boy type?"

"Yeah, you know, like someone who breaks the rules and stuff. Not someone who's a goody-two-shoes like Henri."

Cinderella was giggling again. The airy laughter filled Hera up with warmth. It was a sweeter melody than the ball music, and Hera wanted nothing more than to listen to it all day.

"Like you?" the blonde girl offered.

Hera blinked, before chuckling. "Yeah, I guess I do break the rules a lot." She stretched out her bare feet and wiggled her toes. "After all, I did just run away from the palace. My mother's gonna throw a fit."

Cinderella beamed. "You're right then. I think I do prefer the bad boy type."

Hera's heart skipped a beat, while blood shot up into her head. "Oh..."

As if coming to her rescue, the used-to-be-horses-rats pulled at the hem of Cinderella's dress. She stood up. "I'm sorry, Hera, I have to get back home now, before my sisters notice that I'm gone."

"W- Wait!" Hera found her voice just as Cinderella trotted away from her. "Where can I find you?"

Cinderella stopped and turned. "The birds will guide you."—Was that a wink from her?—"See you soon, Hera."

And just like that, the goddess was gone.

---

Five weeks later...

A thousand spears rained down from the heavens, piercing into Hera's heart. She glared at the ripped dress in her trembling palms, and then faced the blonde girl.

"They shouldn't treat you like this," she growled.

Cinderella hummed to herself as she prepared her sewing equipment. Her golden hair sprawled over her shoulders and into her bare chest. Any other day, Hera would have pounced with excitement on a sight like this, but right now, she was too overwhelmed with anger.

"It's alright, Hera," Cinderella said. "They just had a bad day and then got a little bit angry, that's all."

"That doesn't excuse anything!"

Cinderella raised her eyebrows and chuckled. "See? You're angry now, too."

"But this is different!" Hera exclaimed, throwing the dress down on the table. "I'm angry, but I will never hurt you! And I don't want anybody to hurt you!"

The dress started to slide off the table, but Cinderella caught it. A wistful expression painted her face for a split second before she hid it behind a smile again. "Thank you, Hera."

Folding her arms, Hera plopped down on the chair. She was still fuming, but it was very difficult to remain angry with Cinderella's lighthearted attitude. So she tapped her feet on the ground and changed the subject.

"My brother is trying very hard to find you, you know," she mumbled sullenly. "He has a glass slipper of yours, apparently."

Cinderella did not lift her head as she concentrated on sewing up her dress. "Ah, right, I dropped one of them that day."

"He's going to every single household to check everyone's shoe size."

"That's ridiculous, and so much effort," Cinderella said in between streams of songful laughter. "Doing all that for a girl? Your brother is just like you."

Hera's cheeks heated up, and she averted her eyes. "Is it selfish that I don't want him to find you?"

"He won't be able to, Hera. My sisters will never let me meet him. I wasn't even supposed to be at the ball, you see." Cinderella looked up from her dress and winked cheekily. It was mere seconds and she had already fixed up the dress.

Hera let out a sigh, her lips still jutting out in a stubborn pout.

Cinderella put the dress away and tapped on her lap. "Don't be like this. Come here."

Like an obedient puppy summoned to her master's call, Hera trudged over. "I don't want him to find you," she muttered, planting her head into her bosom. "I don't want any men to find you."

A pair of soft, warm hands wrapped around Hera's torso. "Don't worry. I'm yours forever."

Hera closed her eyes.

"Promise you won't let him find you?"

"I promise."

---

Another two weeks later...

The palace balcony had a full view of the sky. Tonight, the moon hung on the night sky like an exquisite pearl, as if celebrating the news of the wedding.

Hera leaned against her armchair as she pulled her knees close to her aching heart. Ever since the wedding was announced, she had retreated to her room and hid in her balcony. She could not bear to face her family; she could not bear to see Cinderella.

"Hera."

Her head jerked up. Tears blurred her vision, but she could still make out the slim figure scaling the balusters.

"Cinderella!" Hera leaped up from her seat and rushed over to the balcony. "What the hell are you doing?"

Grabbing Hera's hand, Cinderella heaved herself upwards. She landed on the balcony and immediately lost balance. Hera tightened her grip, and the falling girl ended up planting her head onto her chest.

"Hello, Hera." Cinderella strained her neck to stare at Hera. Her bright emerald eyes seemed ten times bigger—and more beautiful—than usual, while her warm breath sent shivers down Hera's spine.

"This was so dangerous, don't ever do that again!" Hera snapped, pushing the blonde girl away. "And I'm still angry at you." She gritted her teeth. "You lied to me. You let Henri find out about you."

"I didn't mean to, Hera..." Cinderella mumbled. She stepped towards Hera hesitantly, but the more she advanced, the more Hera retreated.

"Hera, please, I... Henri noticed that there was somebody in the attic and demanded for me. I never wanted him to find out. Trust me, Hera, when I say that I had no say in this. I can't- I can't offend a Prince, can I? I don't know how to turn down his proposal."

Hera's back hit the wall; she had retracted all the way to the end of her room. Her shoulder, lurching violently, rubbed against the wallpaper as she sobbed.

"Don't cry, Hera, please." Cinderella placed her palms on Hera's face. The slender fingers caressed the tear-washed cheeks, as she whispered, "Remember when I told you I have a Fairy Godmother?"

Hera managed a nod. "Y- You said, s- she helped you g- get to the ball?" she said while sniveling.

"Yes, she gave me till midnight then. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me, because it allowed me to meet you." Cinderella's voice, as sweet as ever, calmed Hera down like a spoonful of honey down her throat. "And tonight, my Fairy Godmother is giving us till midnight, too."

Hera frowned. "For what?"

"Elope with me."

A small gasp, followed by a complete halt of her heart. Hera's eyes widened as she stared back at the green, shimmering eyes, so determined, so fierce. So passionate.

"Elope with me, Hera," she repeated. "We have until midnight to leave the palace."

Hera gulped. This would mean abandoning her family, her kingdom, everything she had ever known in her life. But as she stared at the love of her life, she knew she would give up the world for her.

Carefully, she took Cinderella's hands into hers, and nodded.

"Lead the way, my goddess."