She gave him a watery smile. "Merci beaucoup," she sniffed. "It's true. One reaps what one sows. My deceit has caught me cold. "
Seconds later a tingling whisper wafted through the shadows, bits of glitter giving off a candlelight glow. The dark basement shimmered in a shower of sparkles that swirled upward in a slow moving motion.
A gown of the softest pastel pink chiffon shifted into focus like an artist creating from a blank page. The gentle face of an angel appeared, tapping one foot. She snapped a shiny stick toward an old black kettle in the corner, whipping it into a high-backed padded chair fit for…well, a Fairy Godmother.
"Hello, dear."
Her voice held a little sympathy. Very little.
Fairy Godmother swung round, and all but plunked into the chair like a sullen child. Her silver stick clattered to the floor. With an irritated huff, she snatched it up and brushed a small elegant hand over her skirts before meeting Cinderella's gaze. She shook her head with a sad smile and soft sigh.
The dejected sound filled Cinderella with so much despair; she sagged to the floor. "I vow I know not how this happened. I…I suppose when the tower clock struck twelve I tempted fate one step too far. I was overly enthralled, you see," she whispered. "But I ran as fast as I could." All was lost. She could see it in Fairy Godmother's eyes. Cinderella dropped her head. "I-I lost my shoe."
"Oui, I know, dear," Fairy Godmother said. Her voice was much gentler than Cinderella deserved. That gentle tone proved her undoing, and she burst into tears.
"It never occurred to me Esmeralda's foot should fit my slipper." She hiccupped. "He never saw her face. I'm his mysterious princess. What am I to do?" she wailed. Anguished tears poured down her cheeks.
"Cinderella, my sweeting, this is more than just about you." Fairy Godmother said this kindly.
Cinderella blinked, puzzled. "Pardonnez-moi, I don't understand?"
"Hmm. How shall I say this?"
Cinderella flinched under her piercing gaze, one that sent tingles racing up her spine. "Well, dear. I have been chatting with the queen."
Confusion wrapped Cinderella in a thick cocoon. Fairy Godmother continued a matter-of-fact…tirade. "Frankly, my dear, she is thoroughly appalled by her son's lack of imagination in pursuit of his…ahem…mysterious princess."
"But…but, he does not have to be," Cinderella assured her quickly, rising on her knees, poking herself in the chest with her thumb. "I am her. I am his mysterious princess." Hope filled her.
"I know you are, ma chère."
"So, all will be well?" Relief assailed her, and Cinderella bestowed Fairy Godmother with her brightest smile. But Fairy Godmother appeared to have not heard or seen her.