No Glass Slippers for this Girl Part 2

Part 2

With us so far?

Unfortunately for Cinda, her etiquette lessons had to be cut short. No sooner did the diminutive fae teach the barefoot girl how to curtsey, did she give a sudden gasp, and rush Cinda into the Pumpkin carriage. "Oh, my dear, I am so sorry!" she said hurriedly. "If we don't get you to the ball now, you'll never set foot in the palace at all!"

Cinda got the message and climbed into the carriage. While the dress hid the ground beneath from view, she could still rely on her bare soles to tell her where she was stepping, with far more precision than even the men in their sensible work boots. She felt soft, thin carpeted steps, tickling her soles as she climbed in and took her seat. Inside, the carriage was decorated with furry walls, linen curtains and illuminated by an immaculate chandelier. None of it felt cramped, either.

There was one problem. Sitting in her burgundy ball gown, she couldn't see her beautiful bare feet, or the faux sandals that adorned them. "Oh dear, this won't do," she complained, crossing her legs and kicking one foot free from her sparkling gown. Now she could see it perfectly. Each bead glistened in the candlelight, just like the dress sandals she'd seen her sisters' friends wear. Ah, but even those women didn't know the joys of letting your feet truly free.

The godmother took her seat opposite Cinda, getting a full view of her bare foot. Outside, the carriage door shut on its own, while the horseman got her transport moving at a steady speed. This was it. Cinda's wildest dreams were slowly coming true. "Can't apologize enough for the glass slippers," she said sheepishly. "I don't wear shoes. I should've known better."

Cinda chuckled, flexing her toes. "Anyone else would've loved them," she said reassuringly, gazing at her firm, leathery soles. On the surface, they looked dirty and worn out, but she thought they were beautiful in their own way. Any dirt left on them was a texture she'd earned. Each blade of grass between her toes reflected the country girl she was. "Pity no-one else will appreciate these."

"You'll be surprised," said the godmother, playfully kicking her legs, before letting out a sudden gasp. "Oh, my dear, I forgot the most important thing!" She leapt to her feet, looking Cinda in the eye between the gap in the poor girl's toes. "The spell wears off at midnight! If you're not gone by then, everyone will see you as just some poor peasant."

"Oh no!" Cinda gasped, reflexively putting a hand to her mouth. She looked out the carriage window. They'd just passed through the town, and she could just about see the palace ahead. "What time is it now?"

"It'll be ten when you arrive," the godmother instructed, her voice high like helium. "That should be enough time for you to dance with the Prince, but not much longer." She turned around and spread her wings. "Get ready, princess," she said. "Your dream's about to begin."

The godmother walked into the carriage wall, and disappeared in a purple glow. Cinda stared in wonder, then put her feet where she'd just stood, playfully flexing her toes while the carriage finished its journey.

Now, Sophia and Eva had gushed about the Prince's palace before. They fawned over the intricate hedge maze, and the statue of His Highness that greeted everyone on the way in. Even though they lived in such a wealthy, spacious manor themselves! For something to wow those snobs like that, it had to be truly godlike.

Now, Cinda felt like they had sold it short.

For starters, the way into the palace was led by a long, clean, glass slope. Cinda had never walked on glass before, broken or otherwise. As delightful as it felt to walk on, she couldn't help but wonder why it was there. The other partygoers, decked in their elaborate masks and heeled shoes, didn’t even think about the reflective surface they were walking on. Then she looked down, and saw the palace moat flowing right below her feet. Quite simply, the sight took her breath away. Cinda was so amazed that she stopped to look at it, at her masked face gazing into the shimmering water below. It took a passing nobleman bumping into her to get her going again.

After that, a carpeted staircase led into the palace ballroom. A hedge maze surrounded Cinda, reminding her of the lush gardens back home she enjoyed walking through. Unfortunately for her, she had to focus on the mission at hand, and suddenly breaking from the pack to explore it did nothing to achieve that. Thankfully, the soft, thick carpets greeted her bare soles, and kept her focused. It felt just like being at home, except even more people were dirtying it with their muddy shoes. Her own footprints, little did she know, were far less mucky. For now, at least.

A clock tower watched from nearby. As she entered, Cinda gave it a look. 10:00 on the dot, the moment she first stepped inside the Prince's palace. This place was practically designed to wow the barefoot girl as many times as possible: the room was practically made of gold, accentuated by rubies glistening from the balconies, and symmetrically arranged chandeliers. None of the other partygoers seemed too impressed with the decor. But Cinda? This place exceeded her craziest dreams.

Speaking of the other guests… She kept an eye out for Sophie and Eva. There they were, by the fountain! Her stepmother wasn't with them. Presumably she was copying up with the Royal Court, buying the Prince's hand for her spoiled daughters. Said Prince wasn't anywhere near them! Wherever he was, Cinda already knew he had good tastes.

A new song started to play. Unlike the more peaceful sonata that welcomed Cinda in, this one had vitality. The trumpets, drums and double-bass harmonized, lifting her spirits with the most uptempo song she'd heard in person. And this one didn't have that pesky vinyl crackle to spoil it. Before she knew it, Cinda started to dance. Her dress fluttered as her bare feet hopped around the floor, gracefully following the pianist's solo.

People started to notice. The masked girl in gold was spinning around the ballroom, running from one end to another, even jumping across tables like they weren’t even there! The crowd were, quite frankly, stunned. What possessed this guest to dance in such a childlike manner? Sophie noticed, and started sniggering. Unfortunately for her, her potential audience were too awestruck to join in. Why, if she’d gone on for any longer, even the band would have been distracted!

In fact, one person in particular was captivated by Cinda’s dance. A dashing young man, with a cubic chin polished like a stone, and two eyes as beautiful as the ocean. Unlike everyone in the crowd, this man was willing to walk up to the young dancer, to try and get her attention. He gave a gentle clap as he walked, which certainly grabbed her attention. Cinda came down from her high, and found herself gazing into his magical eyes. She knew, right then, she had met her Prince.

"Fantastic dancing," he said, his voice smooth like honey. "Haven't seen anyone move with such vigor since my mother."

"Thank you," Cinda stammered, too stunned to move. "You're, you're the…"

Her words trailed away when he offered his hand. "I could never dance like she did," the Prince continued. "Not on my own." He looked at her, a wry smile hidden from the royal court.

This was going to be fun.

What happened next turned into a blur for Cinda. She and the Prince twirled and leapt as the band picked up another uptempo song. This time, every member played with as much joy as the lead dancers themselves. Even the crowd got swept up in the festivity, clapping along. Some even cheered them on, not knowing either party's name. The Stepmother clapped too, but to the backbeat. Whoever the Prince was dancing to, it wasn't her daughters. She would have words with them later.

At last, the tempo slowed down. The Prince cradled Cinda in his arms, gazing into her masked eyes. Something reflected off them. He looked down, and saw her sweaty, bare footprint on the ground. His eyes widened. "You're not wearing shoes?" he asked.

Cinda gasped. "Sir, I am," she said, pointing to her barefoot sandals. "But," she added, with hesitation, "okay, not really." She hung her head in shame. The Prince could see her for the dirty barefoot girl she was. It had all been going so well, too. Should she run away now and call it quits?

Instead, the Prince gave a warm chuckle. "My mother also detested shoes," he whispered. "Sometimes, she would take me on walks through the countryside in bare feet. If she could have attended Royal functions without shoes, she certainly would have." He smiled. "You're so much like her."

Cinda gasped. All other sights and sounds faded from her attention. Even the cold marble floor underfoot ceased to exist. She was just floating, captivated. "I am?"

"My name's Declan," he said. "What might yours be?"

"Mine?" Cinda gulped. "My, my name's-"

BONG! BONG!

The time! The clock was striking midnight. All of a sudden, Cinda’s heart was filled with panic. "I'm sorry," she muttered to Prince Declan, before fleeing out of the palace.

BONG! BONG!

The marble floor and red carpet felt harsh and abrasive against her bare feet as she ran. In fact, she ran so clumsily that the strap on her left sandal was starting to unwind.

BONG! BONG!

The Pumpkin carriage awaited her at the end of the glass walkway. That too hurt her feet as she ran across it. Unfortunately for poor Cinda, she slipped, and tumbled the rest of the way down. That barefoot sandal finally came undone, and flew off her foot as she climbed into the carriage and rode away, with scarcely a second to look back.

BONG! BONG!

Prince Declan came running after. Of course he did. "Wait," he cried. "Come back!" It was all futile, but that moment had been so magical to him. What was so important that she had to leave at midnight? He came to a stop at the glass walkway, and noticed a scrap of her sandal, lying by a thick footprint pasted over the glass.

BONG! BONG!

Cinda watched her mansion home grow on approach. She was too panicked to think about it, but in the back of her mind she knew that he was the one. He accepted a poor, cleaning girl who wouldn't wear shoes like normal people. And before she could show herself to him, Fate forced her to flee. "Oh, Fairy Godmother," she cried, "Where are you?"

BONG! BONG!

When the spell came undone, it did so quite fast. The four horses became mere mice between hoofsteps. The driver was a cat before his whip could lash at his natural prey. The carriage was a pumpkin, exploding into chunks as its rider flew out of it. And her burgundy ball gown had become a mere, plain dress once again. Cinda's mask broke in two, and both halves melted into the ground.

Cinda stared numbly at her surroundings, at the mice carrying the remaining pumpkin away from the cat. In just a few short seconds, her dream had fallen apart. By tomorrow, the nightmare would continue. She stared despondent at her toes, wiggling them as she tried not to cry.

Wait, her right sandal was still on.

Cinda hurriedly untied it and pulled it off. Her feet were truthfully bare now. But still, she looked at it in surprise. If this sandal survived, then where was the other one? "Could it be?" she asked herself, thinking back to Declan's dreamlike face. Something told her the dream was not yet over…