Despair settled over her like the heavy blanket weighing her down. Essie would marry Prince. She blinked back weary tears. He would never know his mysterious princess stood feet away watching every sordid detail, she thought glumly. The thought made her so very tired.
Perhaps, she just needed to see things from a different perspective. Luck had been with her after supper. For now, here she laid, snuggled deep in her bed with nary a word from Stepmama, just a few side glances Cinderella had meekly endured. Of course, things had been tense and uncomfortable, but Cinderella was certain she'd been successful in hiding her anxiety.
'Twas a blessing, at least, Stepmama had not demanded a solitary audience with her. Cinderella would never have come out ahead in that clash. Squashed like a bug, she'd be.
She closed her eyes and focused on the silence in the chamber. The sheer hush would unnerve even the bravest of souls. She shuddered beneath the heavy covers. Everyone knew she was the least brave person in all the land. 'Twas her last thought as draining fatigue finally claimed her.
*****
A prick in her arm from Marcel's teeny claws and frantic mew startled Cinderella to a sitting potion. Disoriented and out of sorts she fought to still her pounding heart when she heard the creak of the door. "Essie?"
"Essie, indeed," Stepmama cackled.
Terror ripped through Cinderella, rendering her immobile. Alas, it would seem her audience with Stepmama was inevitable.
Within the solemnity of the corridor, Stepmama hadn't even bothered to lower her voice. Light from the flickering candle she held gave her robust face an eerie mask-like quality straight out of a horrifying medieval epic tale.
Stepmama edged closer to Cinderella's frozen form until she towered above her. "You think you have managed quite a feat, have you not, my pretty? Turning Esmeralda from the bosom of her family."
Cinderella's response was an audible swallow. "I...I could never do that, Stepmama. Essie would never allow it." If she could not save herself, mayhap she could prevent Essie from some hazardous misfortune.
"Essie!" she spat. "How I despise that shortened version of her name. But 'tis not the reason I seek to speak with you, my dear." Stepmama set the candle on the bedside table.
Terror stuck in her throat, muting any response.
"I see how you have lured the affections of the Conte de Lecce's son."
The venom in her accusation tripped Cinderella into subtle action. "Non. Non. 'Tis not like that at all…" She shook her head sidling to the edge of the bed. But Stepmama would not be mollified.