vii.

THE CARRIAGE WHIZZED BY against the backdrop of the deep night sky. The moon had taken refuge and hidden from sight-perhaps embarrassed at the events that had taken place right under her.

Isadora Tremaine wished suddenly that she too could hide herself way, if only briefly. The chateau couldn't come soon enough for her satisfaction.

The foreign prince's look had been hardened when she had glanced back at him as he stood on the steps of the palace with Prince Charming. The former had steeled his emotions-barring them from display on his dark features whereas the latter wore his disappointment and dismay clear on his face. Isa had been correct in deciding that there was no resemblance at all between the two cousin princes, they were each a different side of different coins. One was stone and the other was air, one unrelenting and firm while the other was free to drift whichever way he found the urge to.

Isadora didn't know what the foreign prince made of her rejection to his invite. Could he have seen how desperately she wanted to come? No, Isa couldn't have let that show. She had lost her composure quite a bit in front of him, but she couldn't have lost that much of herself to him.

Besides, she wasn't even sure how much she wanted to go. Little Archie would adore an observatory. He liked stories of stars and the ones she made up about the moon at nights for him-he enjoyed listening to her with dazed out wide almond shaped eyes as his imagination ran wild inside his skull. He would've liked to see an observatory too, but Isa realized that she didn't want to see something that her little boy couldn't be taken to see too.

Perhaps the foreign prince had been disgusted that she had refused to come because she had a child to look after, because she had no one else to count on where Archie was concerned. Perhaps like most gentlemen, children in general, irritated him.

Isadora wouldn't find out now, for she hadn't bothered to look at him receiving her words. She had cared enough to dread the displeasure on the dark prince's face. Perhaps it was all too well that she hadn't. The not knowing was better than the disappointment of knowing-most times.

The carriage jostled through the patch of woods that stretched all the way to town, roads had been laid years ago for those travelling between the town and the palace-yet still the carriage was tossed to and fro from the impact of the unevenness.

The woods were pitch dark at present, the moon's light from behind the clouds seemed only to briefly wash the surface of the small wilderness-refusing to penetrate the dark the woods held compact, each tree and bush clamped together to hold their secret.

The carriage abruptly jostled hard, and Isadora steadied herself with a gasp, her eyes catching onto the giant lumps of broken.. pumpkin? scattered across the road out of the carriage window.

The orange glistened under the dim moonlight, with the carriage wheels successfully crushing the lumps as the juice bled out on the dryness of the ground.

The woods didn't grow pumpkins, so where had these fresh pieces of it come from? Isa looked to the woods as the carriage passed and came onto smoother road.

In the darkness, her eyes spotted a familiar sparkle amongst some trees. There was a movement, and she saw a flash of skin against the moonlight-a half bare leg. The sparkle dimmed and as Isadora's eyes adjusted, she saw someone covering the sparkle with cloth-but the light of it still shone.

"Stop the carriage!" Isa managed, knocking hard on the carriage roof to signal to the driver.

The carriage abruptly halted on command. Isadora undid the latch of the door, gathered her skirts and hoisted herself down. The hem of her dress met the dirty ground, but she didn't care to acknowledge the dirt at present.

Isa hurried over to where she had seen the faint sparkle. If she was correct, it was the other glass slipper. The one Prince Charming had desperately been gripping in his cream gloved hands had borne the same sparkle-the light of glass catching a ray of moonlight and breaking it into the a mixed iridescent rainbow.

If she was correct, the girl who had run away from the prince was currently in the woods-hiding like Isa herself had wanted to just moments ago.

"Miss?" Isadora called, standing on the road and facing the subtle movement in the woods. She couldn't see anyone, but she knew the girl was there.

Isa couldn't step past the road, her elaborate red gown had already started catching onto brambles and would tear apart were she to venture far.

"Miss, do you need assistance?" Isa tried again, worried that the girl was troubled far beyond Isadora's comprehension.

The least she could do was to get the girl to town. It was only a little detour from the chateau, and Isa found herself desperate to do just that.

"I'm not-," Isadora started when no response came. The carriage horses neighed slightly, and Isa turned to find the driver's eyes pinned on her, his hat brim low.

"I can take you to town." Isa turned her attention back to the darkness of the woods. "I'm going that way, it's no trouble for me."

A shuffle was heard and seen, a little one that only indicated that the girl had heard and was perhaps considering or reluctant to entirely.

"You shouldn't be out here alone this time of night," Isadora spoke again, willing her voice to not quiver. Didn't the girl know that people got murdered just because they had no one at their side sometimes?

Was running and hiding from a prince worth losing your life?

"Please, just come out of there," Isadora pressed, urgency in her tone as she glanced sideways at the road. If Prince Charming had the girl pursued, carriages full of guards would come along the road in no time if she didn't make haste.

"I-I can't," The voice broke midway, as it came from the darkness, and Isa stilled in the familiarity of it.

"Cinderella?"

Slowly, twigs broke underneath the girl's movement as she stepped out and into Isadora's shocked view point. Her stepsister was dressed in torn clothes, yet the girl's corn blonde hair glistened in a perfect set of curls as she clutched the glass slipper against her chest.

"Isadora, I can explain," Cinderella started, the girl's light eyes brimming with tears.

Isa didn't know what to say. Shock, and anger were mixed in her, pumping out into her blood as she reeled from the pressure of it. Cinderella was the mystery girl Prince Charming had danced with.

"You were supposed to be at the chateau," Isadora let out, her voice accusatory, hands fisting at her sides. "You left Archie all alone!"

The girl blinked in confusion, as though she had been expecting a different reprimand.

"Mon Dieu," Isa brought her hands to her face, her voice breaking in her horror. "He's been all alone for these hours."

"Did you even bother to check up on him before you left?" Isadora cried, not caring that her voice carried in the silence of the woods.

"I-I-," Cinderella swallowed, willing tears away. "Stepmother forbids me to, and in her absence I didn't think to-I should have-only I-"

"You were more concerned with the stupid ball," Isa tightened her jaw, hatred evident in her dark ebony eyes.

The fury inside her ebbed harshly at her, and Isadora supposed she might break down and tear her own hair out if she didn't keep forcing herself up. Everyone around her was so blind, so deeply and truly selfish that she couldn't fathom it. They couldn't even put aside their dislike for her and look at Archie-instead he fell into Isa's category. If she was hated, he was hated. He was only a boy.

Mon Dieu, Isadora pleaded silently inside to no one in particular and everyone at the same time, Archie's just a little boy.

"Did you enjoy it then? Dancing with Prince Charming?" She clasped her hands at the base of her stomach, willing her distress away and molding it into plain unrelenting fury.

"I hope it was as much an ode to your selfishness as you expected it to be."

Cinderella bit her lip then, a surprise taking over her. Tears fell freely down her face then as her eyes implored Isadora's hard ones.

A cold wind blew, and Isa turned to look at the waiting carriage. The driver was still very much engaged in the scene that she was unfolding behind his vehicle.

"Get in the carriage, we're returning to chateau," Isadora Tremaine swallowed a chunk of her fury. "Despite all your shortcomings, stepsister, I wouldn't want to see you murdered in account of them."

Cinderella slowly trudged forwards, her head bent low as Isa stepped aside to let her pass first. The girl was barefoot, and looked in general as though she hadn't seen a royal ball in her life let alone danced with a prince.

The girl hoisted herself into the carriage and Isadora followed suit. Seating herself opposite and shutting the door, Isa knocked on the carriage roof twice and the driver pulled on the reins and the vehicle jolted forwards, continuing the journey.

"Will you tell stepmother?" Cinderella asked after a pause, daring to meet Isa's dark eyes.

"Tell her what?" Isadora scoffed, glancing out of the carriage window. "That you left Archie all alone? You are stupid if you think mother would care."

"No," The girl shook her head, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I mean about me going to the ball."

"I know what you mean," Isa shot her a hard look. "I am merely choosing to ignore what you mean because I do not care. You are mother's responsibility-her stepdaughter, her scullery maid-you mean nothing to me and I would be insane to waste my breath mentioning you at all."

Cinderella blinked registering the words, before nodding in compliance. It appeared the words didn't hurt her-merely only confirmed perhaps a pre-existing notion that she'd already had.

The carriage continued the journey, and the woods started thinning out as they started approaching the end of it.

"I was dancing with Prince Charming," Cinderella's voice interrupted Isa's senses again. "I didn't know that-I didn't realize it. Only when you said it did I-"

Isa furrowed her brows in distaste. "He wore the sash across his chest bearing the kingdom's colors and emblem. Were you so lost you didn't notice it?"

"So did yours," The girl spoke up, realization flashing across her face. "I saw you dancing too, it was hard not to notice since I dreaded you would recognize me."

"You were dancing with a prince too," Cinderella continued, as Isadora merely turned her face away.

"If you want to survive my mother you will drop this and not mention it again," Isa tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, and rested her back against the seat.

"But-," The girl frowned. "Lady Tremaine intended for you to find suitors. Does the prince you danced with qualify as one?"

"Does dancing with someone signify that? Because I felt like I was on the clouds in Prince Charming's arms. I didn't feel real."

Isadora tilted her head slightly, observing the whimsy on the girl's face. She chose not to answer, tethering between not having anything to say and not wanting to say anything at all. Searching for words meant prodding into herself, and Isa just wanted to let herself be.

"Isadora please, I want to know," Cinderella urged, a desperation in her tone. "I want to know what it means for me-for us both. Because I have never felt anything like this before."

"It means nothing," Isadora snapped then, fury lacing her tone as she saw her stepsister's expression fall.

"This doesn't mean anything, Cinderella, don't allow yourself to dwell on this night-on the prince. He doesn't know what you are! And as for me? The prince I danced with was only a moment in time. He doesn't know who I am, or anything that I want. I will never see him again. This was just a single night and it won't change any of our lives."

"But what if it does?" The girl offered softly, a certain bravado in her eyes. "What if this night changes our lives in more ways than one?"

Isadora shook her head. "You don't get to do this," She tightened her jaw. "You don't get to dream and force others to do the same-not you, Cinderella, you have no right to with what you are."

The girl didn't say anything then, merely dropping her face and stroking the glass slipper she held in her lap. Isa saw her tears fall onto the glass as she wiped them away with a shaking hand.

Isadora Tremaine bit her own lip and turned her face away.

***

A/N:
This was a little sad to write :(