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SOUNDS WERE ALL SHE HEARD. The battering of her heart against her chest, the soft pants of Archie's own, her footsteps against the throne room flooring, Archie's footsteps against the throne room flooring, the thuds of the grand duke and Cinderella's own footwork, the swishing of Isadora's emerald gown. Sounds, sounds and sounds, until they approached the throne and half of the commotion in Isa's ears halted abruptly.

Save for the wild beating of her heart and Archie's soft breaths, Isadora didn't hear half the things she was hearing before as they collectively stopped behind the grand duke.

Isa didn't raise her eyes, instead she fixed them at the back of the grand duke's feet, her hand holding her son's firmly.

After all the years of being trained in the four walls of the chateau on the etiquette of facing royals, Isadora would rather line up every meagre thing she had learned for the present and be done with this. Once there had been a time she couldn't wait to curtsey in front of a prince, or a king. And now that she was in a prince's and two kings' presences, she would rather take her son and go home.

"Your majesty," The grand duke bowed, addressing King Reginald. "I have been successful in my endeavor, thanks to your gracious trust in me. Allow me to introduce the maiden from the ball last night, who fit the glass slipper."

Elaborately, and still bowed at the waist, the duke scurried to a side, gesturing for Cinderella to step forward.

Isadora glanced briefly at her stepsister, as the anxious girl walked up front and dropped into a shaking yet seemingly appropriate curtsey. Isa dropped her eyes to the ground, slowly breathing in and out as she waited.

She felt eyes on her. Of course she did. She was the odd one out in the throne room. Her presence here was purposeless, for which slipper did she fit except the ones she owned and wore on her feet? One could suggest that she was here in support of her stepsister. But that was an utter falsehood.

Isadora Tremaine had never been one to reach out a hand for any of her sisters. Their bond was like a damaged bird-a creature pitied for it's apparent uselessness, it's living dead-ness.

Instead, Isa could only wait for her turn. Wait to be acknowledged once the future princess of the kingdom of Valence was met with.

"Cinder-ella?" King Reginald's tone was curious, an amusement lurking underneath. "My, child, that is an odd name."

"Father," Prince Charming blurted, his eyes narrowed at the king before he snapped his gaze back onto Cinderella-the prince's eyes lighting up like a constellation completing itself in the sky.

He seemed to be holding himself at bay, preventing himself from leaving his father's side and running up to her.

"I prefer it, your majesty," Cinderella replied, shyly breaking her gaze away from the prince's as she looked at the king.

King Reginald's comment hadn't bothered the girl in the slightest. A cruel childish jest turned permanent, her name had been a normality to Isadora for most of her life after Lady Tremaine had married the Baron. Cinderella had been bothered then, until she was not. Seemingly, nothing else would ever bother Cinderella in the slightest, from now onwards.

"Well, if you prefer it," The king waved a hand dismissively, an ease in his manner.

He eyed Cinderella then, before a smile broke over his face. It seemed to Isadora that Cinderella's dish maid attire was a mere inconvenience, as both King Reginald and his son's eyes chose to ignore the information the girl's clothes were giving them.

Isadora felt an odd lightness in her chest at the thought. She hadn't even considered the fact that the king and the prince could've turned Cinderella away if they discovered that she was but a mere dish maid, and now that such an outcome didn't appear to be the case, Isa felt strangely light.

Cinderella's royal departure would light the chateau on fire, and it would try to suffocate Archie and Isa. Yet, Isadora couldn't bring herself to hate her stepsister for it. The girl had left Archie on his own to dance, how was she to know that it would be a prince and that he would search for her to marry her after?

And how was Isa herself to know that she would be summoned here as well, on account of refusing an invitation?

How often do you blame fate's own doing onto people who couldn't have seen it coming?

"You seem to be a very spirited girl," King Reginald's voice tore through Isadora's thoughts.

Cinderella had been answering the king's questions, and after listening, he had made his statement.

"I can see what has my son so enamored with you," The king shook his head and smiled, gesturing to Prince Charming, who nodded and left his father's side, running up to Cinderella and taking her hands swiftly in his.

"Please, you are to be my son's bride and our kingdom's princess," The king beamed.

"Freshen up and rest, you will be shown to your room. And don't you worry, my child, I will make sure my son does not tire you so quickly as to make you want to run away and abandon us again."

"Oh, never!" Cinderella gasped, a laugh emitting from between her lips as she gazed into the prince's eyes, both of them pressing close to each other.

"We shall get to know you more, once my son behaves himself and you are well rested."

"Father, please," Prince Charming spoke, eliciting a giggle from Cinderella.

Isadora looked at Archie, the little boy met her eyes in curiosity of everything that was being said in front of him. Isa could see the questions floating in his eyes, and she could also see that he wouldn't ask them until he felt confident enough to do so. But at present, with Isadora silent, her son didn't know whether to speak or stay silent like her.

Isa's eyes stung suddenly, as she held tears back. The humiliation was intense. She was waiting fruitlessly to be acknowledged and have a due confrontation with King Alexander Casimir done with, yet he let her wait like this.

He let her wait like this with her little son as Cinderella and Prince Charming were gushed over. There's a happy situation that Isa's own present predicament would never be able to compete with.

Isadora Tremaine had rarely ever been jealous of Cinderella. The girl had no parents, no wretched blood related mother who held that blood like a curse over her head, no blood related sister, no murdered best friend who's child she had adopted. These were the only points that had incited Isadora's jealousy on the darkest of days.

But at present, Isa felt another inkling of envy touch her. Cinderella was making her departure from Lady Tremaine toxic malice, royal or not, and Isadora was still stuck with no exit in sight.

"Your majesty," The grand duke cleared his throat as he took Cinderella's spot once Prince Charming guided her over towards King Alexander Casimir, an introductory conversation ensuing at the side of the throne, that Isa couldn't make out.

She only saw-as she risked a glimpse-the handsome stature of King Alexander bow slightly in greeting towards Cinderella, as the girl offered an anxious curtsey in return, her lips parting as she spoke words Isadora couldn't hear.

"Pease allow me to also introduce Miss Isadora Tremaine," The grand duke bowed low before glancing at Isadora and gesturing towards her.

"The young lady's presence was requested by his honorable majesty, King Alexander Casimir."

Obediently, she walked forwards slowly upon her name being introduced, her gloved hand holding her son's firmly as she gently caressed the edge of his wrist with her gloved thumb-trying to calm both herself and him.

The conversation at the side of the throne stopped abruptly as every attention was pulled towards Isadora, as though the girl was a mere cave of wonders that a diamond in the rough could only gape at-too doubtful of himself to venture closer.

At that point, it had only been Prince Charming and Cinderella speaking to each other in their hushed ecstatic voices, and it seemed that both of them quickly silenced themselves, each eager to hear what was happening. Cinderella was probably curious to get her own answers, while the Prince-depending on if he was as much of a close confidante to his cousin King Alexander as Isa assumed-perhaps knew more than either she or her stepsister did.

Isadora kept her eyes glued to the crimson carpet underneath her feet, keeping her gaze ahead but low, centering her atmosphere in her peripheral vision, so that she knew where each person was standing without being so brazen as to allow her eyes to scrutinize without shame. Years of etiquette had made Isa a pawn on a board game, the kind of pawn that players didn't realize was as essential.

Her peripheral vision saw the form of King Alexander Casimir reposition himself as the matter required, his tall form excusing himself from Prince Charming and Cinderella'[s sides as he walked over to the front of the throne, closing the distance between himself and Isadora Tremaine to a mere respectable seven feet.

In the ensuing silence, she tried to focus on Cinderella's familiar form in her periphery, trying to ground herself. The blonde haired girl stood to a side with ease that startled Isadora and almost made her resolve crumble. At the chateau, Isa was so used to seeing Cinderella, but here and now, the girl looked like someone who had turned the last page of their own fairytale, knowing that from this moment on there would only be happiness.

There was no proper etiquette to be seen, for the girl held himself as though she was already the part of the royal family. Cinderella had only ever had familial etiquette-the kind she had picked up from her father the late baron, and his paid for tutelage. Still, the fact that her curtseys in front of royals, and her manner of speaking was far from formal or standard, was a fact that had been easily looked past-considering the girl's innocent naivety and the Prince's immediate fondness for her.

Isadora, however, had none of these things to her virtue. She was neither naïve, nor had the Prince's favor. Isa was the kind of girl who had given into the rigorous training she had been thrust into as a young girl because she knew she was neither rich, nor the naïve and innocent kind of girl that rich young men often wooed. Isa had only ever learned things harshly in life, and this was why Cinderella and Isa were so barred from each other. One had the bright beauty that reminded of flowers and Shakespearean sonnets in spring, while the other was the kind of beauty found in the abandoned depths of tragic poetry that poets never published, and gothic country castles.

Neither could ever truly understand or sympathize with the other, though they both sympathized for the combined chaos of Lucinda and Lady Tremaine-each in their own separate and distanced ways.

When Isadora curtseyed, she dipped herself low, the skirts of her emerald gown a cloud around her. Archie mimicked her, having the awareness to switch to a gentlemanly bow-the one Isa had taught him so many times. He managed it well, as he always did, and it made pride flush inside Isa. But she couldn't turn to him, ruffle his hair and teasingly acknowledge it at present. That very realization was a sense of acute loss inside her.

"What is this, Alexander?" King Reginald inquired, his loud voice full of intrigue. "Do not tell me you had a glass slipper of your own to investigate for?"

King Alexander elicited a small laugh, a deep yet brief display that made something wildly flutter in the pit of Isadora Tremaine's stomach as she kept her eyes low.

"You can say that, Reginald," The King of Angria began, his voice dominating as it reverberated inside the massive throne room, and brushed against Isa's exposed skin.

"But no, actually, there were no glass slippers involved in my case. I merely met a lady at the ball who I needed to see again," The king paused, and Isadora felt his eyes on her, though all she could see in her main vision was the redness of the carpet on the floor, relying on her peripheral vision as she was.

"Unfortunately, our conversation was cut short," The King added then, a slight challenge in his thick tone. "And the withdrawal left me in brutal disarray, I must admit."

King Reginald laughed, and Isa could tell he was shaking his head in disbelief. "Must've been quite an intriguing conversation then, I fear."

"Quite," The foreign king managed, a hint of a smile in his voice.

Isadora kept silent, waiting to be spoken to. But then, what would she say? She had anger and frustration inside of her at being summoned like this, but she would be a fool to let it all out. She would be an idiot to say anything untoward at present-or ever-in the company of royals.

"I hope you didn't have much trouble locating my lady, Duke."

Isa sucked in a silent breath as the wings trapped in her stomach rebelled. My lady. And he hadn't even used it as an addressing to her, he had merely spoken of her.

"Oh no, your majesty," The grand duke hastened to oblige. "It was rather a relief finding the two maidens in the same house. Though if only we had approached their chateau earlier in the day, many other fruitless excursions could've been saved."

"In the same house?" King Reginald spoke up then, slightly shocked as the subject came up.

Isadora glanced at Archie then, meeting the boy's curious eyes. She could tell that he had been trying to catch her eyes for a while now, trying to see what had gotten his mama so silent. This was only just a room with important people, but then again, he was used to seeing his mama hold her chin high. So what had gotten her like this at present?

Meeting his sky blue eyes, she let herself bring up her free hand to brush a stray brown curl softly from his forehead. That simple gesture made relief flood Archie's eyes as he was convinced-just like that-that his mama was fine.

"They are step sisters your majesty," The grand duke responded with his chest puffed out, proud of himself for having accomplished all his given tasks and having all the information at hand for his superiors.

"Stepsisters?" King Alexander uttered, interest clear in his deep baritone.

"Yes, your majesty," Cinderella spoke up then, without being addressed, but like her other faults in royal etiquette, this one was pinned to her innocent naivety and went ignored.

"Miss Isadora Tremaine is my eldest stepsister," She elaborated on the grand duke's information as Isadora met her eyes. The girl smiled at Isa as though they were but precious sisters, facing slight adversity together. Like custom, Isadora found no comfort in Cinderella's eyes. She never had.

"My father married her mother-Lady Tremaine-upon the death of my mother when I was very little."

King Reginald started. "Ah, Duke, do I remember the name Tremaine from the ball presentations or am I mistaken?"

"You are not mistaken at all, your majesty," The Duke affirmed.

"I see."

"Alright then," King Alexander clasped his hands together, almost startling Isadora. "I must have a private conference with my lady. Reginald, you really must retire."

Isadora was shocked to hear the tease in his voice, clearly she wasn't mistaken. The foreign king was much at frankness and ease with Valence's King Reginald and Prince Charming, King Alexander's uncle and cousin respectively.

"Well, I have been meaning to," King Reginald laughed, picking up his stout form from off the throne as he stepped down.

"And please take my cousin and his bride-to-be with you," King Alexander mused, to which King Reginald laughed some more.

"Alright cousin," Prince Charming held Cinderella's hand as he started leading her away. "I see your haste is unmatched. May the act of us leaving you in this privacy lead you to lay to rest your.. brutal disarray."

The prince exchanged a grin with his cousin, something Isa could barely make out with her peripheral vision as she kept her gaze low.

Then, before she knew it, three sets of footsteps receded out of the throne room, leaving her alone in the daunting presence of King Alexander Casimir of Angria, and her own son glued to her side as he slightly squeezed her gloved hand in his grip, confused at whatever that was currently transpiring.

It was then, when a slight audible breath left Archie's lips at everyone else leaving, that King Alexander Casimir's attention turned to the four year old at Isa's skirts.

"What is your name, little man?"

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A/N:
please vote if you like it, thankyou<3 i'm trying to be consistent with updates.