The prince stood in the antechamber of the impoverished mansion, flanked on either side by his bodyguards and watched as a girl descended the main staircase. Her spun gold hair had been raked into messy submission and her clothes and face were smudged with soot. Her large, blue eyes held the prince’s gaze tentatively as she came towards him, her feet bare and her hands trembling. There was a shallow well of tears in her eyes and she worried her bottom lip as he reached out his hand. She looked at it, well aware that her fingers had once held his hand in a warm embrace but that they had been clean and she had been beautiful. She was heartily ashamed of her current state and hesitated to take his hand.

“Do not be afraid.” The prince said warmly. “Please…”

She swallowed and put her hand in his. He led her towards a chair that had been previously occupied by her two stepsisters who were in barely restrained fury behind a row of guards. Her stepmother glared daggers at her while her father hid his face in shame.

She sat down at the very edge of the chair and the prince held out his hand for the plush red velvet pillow that carried a delicate glass slipper. He took it off and kneeled before her. He didn’t take his eyes off her face as she looked down and daintily put one of her little feet into the slipper which fit as it had the night she had danced with him.

“I knew it was you.” He said warmly, taking her hand and drawing her to stand up. “The moment I saw you, I knew it was you.”

The girl blushed with pleasure as he kissed the back of her hand and then reached out to kiss her rosy lips. And somewhere in the large city, church bells rang out the good news.

Cinderella had been found.

Many years later…

“Two white tunics and a pair of leggings. Will that be all miss? I can’t interest you in a ball gown?”

Jé Kinah looked up from her small purse. “Why would I need a ball gown?”

“To go to the ball of course.” The tall, angular woman behind the counter came out and led the reluctant young woman to a dress maker’s doll that was adorned in a sumptuous gown of pale green burnished gold. “It would bring out the soft gold tones in your hair and reflect your eyes beautifully. And this is the last one.”

Jé Kinah suspected that tradesmen often sold the ‘last one’ several times over before actually coming to the bottom of their stock pile. However, going by the claustrophobic amount of people in the store she had an inkling that the woman was telling the truth. There was a queue of women waiting in the front of the store for their turn to be taken into a fitting area at the back of the store. There was a score of seamstresses and shop assistants bustling about with needles and thread, measuring tapes and an attitude of racing the clock. And then there was Jé Kinah who was just trying to find a store in the city that sold what she needed.

She had been turned away from almost everywhere else as there seemed to be a rush on ball gowns at the moment and had to venture further into the city than she had intended just to find a dressmaker who had something in her size in stock. It was a sad state of affairs when an elf had to scour human shops for a simple tunic but Jé Kinah was finding that tunics weren’t lasting long in her care and needed to replenish her clothing before she was reduced to scandalous attire.

Jé Kinah pulled back from the woman’s hand. “Just the tunics and the leggings.”

“But what about the ball? It is being held at the palace in their grand courtyard.”

Jé Kinah sighed. “Alas I have not received an invitation.”

One of the girls in the store giggled. “Oh that doesn’t matter. All the women of the city are invited.”

“All of them?” Jé Kinah asked in shock.

The girls tittered at her expression. “Look at her face! She doesn’t know about the ball!”

“I’ll have the dress if she doesn’t!”

“That’s not fair Luana! You already have a gown! You cannot wear two!”

“She cannot afford two.”

“I will when I am queen!”

The childish contention made Jé Kinah’s head ache. She looked at the woman who nodded, seeing the resolution in her eyes. “Just the tunics and the leggings.”

Jé Kinah emerged from the store with a great sense of relief. She stood on a narrow sidewalk and looked around. She was on one of dozens of little streets that riddled the large, lakeside city. The heart of the heart and its closest surroundings were all made of stone and the streets were paved. There were trees with lush green foliage gently moving in the sunlight and many walls were covered in creeping climbers and grape vines. Further from the heart of the city the buildings, which were mostly homes by that point, were a little more rustic yet beautifully so and surrounding the city were acres and acres of vineyards, each with their own mansion or grand house situated in the middle of it as though laying its claim.

The sunlight glinted off the water and the smell in the air was fresh and full of life. It seemed everyone in the city was out and about and the streets were a crowded mess of horse and carriage, butlers carrying hat boxes, young women with bags and boxes hooked beneath their arms and a general air of the mad rush before the big event.

Jé Kinah didn’t like cities. From what she knew most elves were the same, preferring untouched nature to the contraptions and manipulations of man. There were so many rules in a city, so many mannerisms and polite customs one had to be careful to adhere to that it was almost suffocating. Yet she had craved company of late. Company but not intimacy or personal inquiry. She needed to be around life, to be swallowed up by the chaos so that her problems and raw heart wounds would disappear and be, at least for a time, forgotten. But she did not want to be questioned and so she kept her head down, her satchel strapped to her back and her pointed ears in the dark confines of her hood.

It was too warm for a hood, cape and gloves. She longed to rid herself of them and walk unimpeded, perhaps even with her boots off on the green grass by the lakeside. But she had grown too familiar with humans and had met a number who did not harbor resentment at her kind so that she had been lulled into a sense of familiarity. However she had been stripped of any hope that humans would accept her pointed ears and fair folk lineage and kept herself as hidden as she could. And as for her fingernails…they had not receded since her last transformation and remained thick, dark green and sharp. Jé Kinah almost never took her gloves off.

Nearer to the outskirts of the heart of the city she returned to the blacksmiths that she had left a project with that morning. To do so she had to climb a decent sized hill through several stone arches and noted, not for the first time, that the entire population seemed to be in a very festive mood. As she crossed the square to the blacksmiths, skirting around the fountain that squirted water into its large basin, Jé Kinah had to dodge rings of dancing children, several little girls losing their shoe and several boys being gallant and picking it up for them. Surrounding the square, in a rather more circular shape than a square, were a number of stone walls with dark red and white striped awnings over small squares of glass set in dark green window frames. There were dozens of tables and chairs out and the people of the city toasted and drank to their good health and the health of their King.

The sweltering shop front was open onto the square and Jé Kinah ducked her head and went inside. The blacksmith, Alberto he had introduced himself as, was busy with a piece of silver.

“Ah, you have finally returned!” He chuckled. “I warned you about going into the city centre on such a day.”

“Yes, you did,” Jé Kinah looked over his shoulder, “and though I was gone all this time, you are still not done.”

Alberto chuckled good-naturedly and pointed to a small wooden table where there was a bottle of wine, some bread and cheese. “One must never be in too much of a hurry. Or else you may miss out on something. Please.”

Jé Kinah sat down nearby and accepted a small glass of wine.

“It seems a shame to have destroyed such a lovely dagger,” he remarked, pumping the whetting wheel with his foot and pressing the triangular metal edge to it, “and stranger still to have someone ask me to turn it into a silver arrow.” He raised it up and looked down its length.

“Paying you to turn it into a silver arrow.” Jé Kinah remarked.

“Of course, of course. Here…see its straight shaft.” He held it to her and she looked down it. “Straight as an…”

“Arrow?” Jé Kinah nodded. “This is what I need.” She looked into her purse and noted that it wouldn’t be long before there was nothing left. “Thank you.”

“I will wrap the arrow so that you do not cut yourself on it.”

Jé Kinah was going to thank him when she heard someone calling out in a decidedly abrasive voice.

“Mother! Cinderella is throwing your money away!”

“It’s true mother! I saw her! She gave it to that beggar woman over there!”

The owners of the voices were two young women, both beneath their twentieth year, dressed in the latest fashion. They had lovely faces but their beauty was greatly diminished with their harsh words and lips curled in disdain. A woman, undoubtedly their mother, walked onto the scene. She had a severe expression her face which had chased away her loveliness to make her look like stone. She stood over a girl dressed in rags, dark brown curls escaping wildly from a loose plait, who bowed her head at the mother’s approach.

“Is this true Cinderella?”

The girl sighed. “It was not your money stepmother. It is the pittance you give me each week that I have given away.”

“You are a foolish girl. What little you receive you must cling to so that you can raise yourself up out of the debt that you owe your family.”

“I am taken care of. She has nothing.”

“Silence!” Jé Kinah jerked as she saw the stepmother’s hand nearly come down and slap Cinderella’s face hard. She restrained herself as she realised that everyone in the square was staring at their feud. Cinderella kept her head down but Jé Kinah could see her jaw was tight and her eyes were flashing in anger. She was not so beaten that she wouldn’t fight back. “You will return home with us immediately to help your sisters prepare for the ball.”

“Yes! And you are not going!” One sister taunted.

“The invitation was to every eligible maid in the city.” Jé Kinah frowned, hearing an almost bored tone come out of the downtrodden girl.

“And who would want you?” The stepmother leaned down. “Pathetic little creature that you are.” She turned on her heel and strode away while her daughters danced and skipped alongside Cinderella as she carried their brown paper parcels, tormenting her all the way home.

“Pathetic little creature.”

“Disgusting little vagabond.”

“Sooty little princess.”

When they left the square Jé Kinah noticed many people turned to each other and nod and smile as though praising the situation. She jumped when Alberto appeared at her elbow.

“Now she would make a fine queen.”

“A fine queen?” Jé Kinah turned to face him. “The stepdaughter?”

“Aye. Cinderella is kind, generous with whatever meagre funds she receives from her stepmother and is a force to be reckoned with in defence of those who cannot defend themselves. A true leader and a tender heart.”

“That may be well enough but she seems to be little more than a servant in her own home.”

“And what a fine story that would make! An abused and downtrodden girl makes a glorious entrance to the grandest ball of the decade and wins the heart of the prince.” Alberto grinned. “What a tale that would become!”

“I suppose,” Jé Kinah looked back to where the family of four women had disappeared from, “but she would need some sort of miracle to get her there.”

“Or a fairy godmother,” Alberto handed Jé Kinah the arrow who took it gingerly and packed it into her satchel, “and those are a dime a dozen these days.”

Jé Kinah thought it was an odd thing for him to say and was going to inquire further but an icy hand gripped her heart and she swallowed down her curiosity. She paid the man, thanked him for the wine and went down to the lake’s edge for somewhere quiet to sit. The flecks on the water were quite harsh to begin with but as the sun started to drift towards the mountains its fearsome gaze softened and the land was bathed in a warm wash that was altogether more kind to those who still lingered outdoors.

Jé Kinah had found a large tree that held two swings from it. She felt a strange pang of longing for her childhood and set her satchel down at the base of the tree and gingerly sat down on the first swing. Her weight was so light she barely heard the ropes stretch under her weight and she lifted her feet from the ground and became weightless, adrift in the world around her. Her elf poise meant she didn’t need to hang on to the ropes keep her balance. She reached up as she always did when she had a hand spare and wrapped it around the small vial that rarely left her throat.

She closed her eyes and felt her bottom lip quiver.

“No.” She whispered. “I will not go.”

There was a slight creak beside her as if someone had sat upon the second swing and she swallowed.

“I know you want me to but I will not, I cannot, interfere in human lives anymore.”

A breeze rustled the leaves of the tree and she turned her face from the second swing. “I know what you want. I know you would have me go, play the role of the fairy godmother and see Cinderella to the ball but I tell you that I am done.” She could barely swallow past the lump in her throat. “After what happened with Jack…the way that my actions nearly killed him and may have damaged him for life…how can you expect me to hold to what I vowed when it is clear that I do more harm than good?”

She could feel the warm breeze trying to turn her head while the icy fingers of fear squeezed her heart tight.

“How can I keep doing this without you? How can I ever forgive myself?” Against all attempts to keep her tears locked away, one broke from her bars of eyelashes and trickled down her cheek. “How can I ever hope to redeem myself?”

She could feel a presence come closer and, though she knew it was impossible, she kept her eyes closed and hoped against hope. “Here you are miss.” Something was pressed into her hand. “If you need somewhere to sleep tonight, there is a shelter up the road. Bless you.”

Jé Kinah opened her eyes and looked down at her hand. It was a crusty bread round roll with the centre gouged out and replaced with a rich, thick vegetable stew that smelt of garlic and herbs. She gave a small, limp chuckle, knowing that someone had mistaken her for a crazy, homeless person.

Perhaps it wasn’t a mistake after all.

She looked to her right and saw that the swing was, as she knew deep down that it must be, empty. Her stomach rumbled and she realised how hungry she was, devouring every last crumb. When it was over the sun was casting orange rays across the lake and the sky behind her was already dark blue, quickly becoming black and littered with stars.

With food in her belly Jé Kinah felt warmth melt the coldness that had threatened to consume her. She swallowed and stood up.

“Now all I have to do is find Cinderella.”

It wasn’t difficult. Jé Kinah simply used her head and asked a beggar near the square where she had seen Cinderella earlier. The square was bustling with activity. It seemed that the royals weren’t the only ones having a party that evening as barrels of cider were rolled out and lanterns were being hung from every available eave. Jé Kinah had to dodge the workers in order to reach a filthy little boy with his hand out. For a piece of copper he said he knew where Jé Kinah could find Cinderella. Apparently she lived in a mansion outside of the city surrounded by vineyards and so, with the sun fully set, Jé Kinah started out along a road she was told would take her directly there.

It was a narrow road and at the start of her journey she had to press herself into a hedge to avoid being trampled by an open carriage carrying the stepmother and her two daughters to the ball, all done up in finery and smelling like a field of flowers. Jé Kinah continued on then had to press out of the way again as another, smaller, closed in carriage whipped by her, this one heading the same way she was going. It seemed it was a busy road she Jé Kinah wondered if Cinderella’s home was beyond a crossroads which would explain the traffic.

Yet there was nothing but the mansion on the road which circled around in front of the grand house that sat amidst a field of heady, ripe grapes. Surrounding the house were some lovely tended gardens and a few statues while the house itself was a large, perhaps a little unfriendly, mansion of stone and a tiled roof. The carriage had pulled up to the left where there was a chink of light from nearer to the back. Jé Kinah crept up to the carriage and peered around it.

A woman in an overdone pink frock of far too many frills for her plump frame came bustling towards the carriage, her ruddy face contorted with anger.

“The nerve of some people,” she exclaimed, “don’t know what’s good for them…” She turned and shouted back at the light. “Well I’ll not be wasting any more time on you, ungrateful little wretch! I’ve got four more maidens on my list that’ll be far more sensible than you!”

Jé Kinah cowered behind the carriage until the woman entered and yelled at the driver to go. She was left standing on the white pebble drive, watching the carriage fly back from where it had come. Jé Kinah frowned and turned back to the light. The rest of the house was in darkness so she guessed that the only person who hadn’t gone to the ball would be the one with a candle or two burning.

She crept down the side of the house and found that the back dipped away down three moss covered stone steps into a little courtyard where bluebells and irises were planted. The light came from a large four bar window through which Jé Kinah could clearly see a kitchen and a fireplace. A person crossed in front of the window and she ducked away. When she realised it was Cinderella she raised her hand and knocked on the window frame.

“I said go away!” Cinderella yelled and threw a china cup that was sitting on the table. Though the cup smashed on the window frame and didn’t actually pose a risk to the she-elf at all, Jé Kinah jumped back. “Oh! Oh I am so sorry! I thought you were…well…someone else.” She put down the large mass of fabric in her hands and opened the door. “I do apologise.”

For someone who had been raging one moment, the gentleness of Cinderella was hard to adapt to.

“I…” Jé Kinah realised that in her determination to actually find Cinderella…she hadn’t given any thought to the explanation why she was looking for her.

“Are you lost? In need of a good meal?” Cinderella took her arm with a firm grip and a familiarity that Jé Kinah was not used to and drew her into the kitchen. “You look as though you could use a hot drink and a warm bed. Here…”

Stunned Jé Kinah watched as Cinderella poured her a cup of tea and set sugar and milk in front of her.

“Thank you.” She barely whispered.

“It is my pleasure.” And the way she said it made Jé Kinah believe that it truly was. “Forgive me for working in your company but I must finish this mending.” Cinderella sat in a rocking chair facing Jé Kinah, nestled by a low burning fireplace. There was a cot tucked away behind a curtain at the end of the room and a pile of crockery to be washed in the sink. Cinderella seemed to be swamped beneath her work. The mending looked to be a large pile of scrap fabric pieces in varying shades of burgundy, green, gold and deep blue. “You must have wandered far from the city to have stumbled upon this house.”

“There is but one road.” Jé Kinah offered by way of a weak explanation.

“Ah yes. If you are looking for the road that will take you into the northern mountains, you needed to leave by the far left passage out of the square where you came from.” Cinderella tied off a thread and sighed. “I left this far too late and now…”

Cinderella had the warm skin and the dark brown hair common to her people. Her eyes were dark too and her eyelashes were thick and long, framing her large eyes. Her hair was tied up in rags so that she had shamble ringlets clustered over her head and reaching down to her slight shoulders. Though she had the composure of someone much older, she could not have been past her eighteenth year.

“Do you often invite guests in that you initially try to attack?” Jé Kinah asked.

Cinderella gave a chuckle. “Not normally. I thought you were a vile little woman that insisted I go to the ball tonight, come back for another helping.”

“You mean that was your fairy godmother?”

Cinderella almost snorted at this and nodded, her eyes creasing with laughter. “I suppose so. I shouldn’t have been so harsh. She is after all only performing her duties but I do detest it when someone insists I do something when I have clearly stated that I will not.”

“You do not wish to go to the ball?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Jé Kinah went to sip her tea then looked up. “But it is a grand ball, where there will be light and dancing and music and…”

“And the rest.” Cinderella turned the fabric over and her fingers flew fast through the stitching.

“Perhaps you are frightened to go on your own? I could accompany you. That way you would not be…” She stopped when she saw a suspicious spark glow in Cinderella’s eyes.

“Are you her back up plan?” Cinderella asked. “She knew how much I detested the idea of this ball legacy and probably didn’t want to risk me tossing out the first fairy godmother that came along.” She stood up and whipped the fabric hand so that it fluffed up. “I will give you credit that you were so crafty, appearing like a beggar in order to evoke my sympathies but if you think I am going to change my mind…”

“Cinderella…there has been a terrible misunderstanding.” Jé Kinah stood up. “I thought you wanted to go to the ball. I thought that was what was meant to happen. I did not know I would cause offense. I am sorry.” She turned to go, the weight of bad decisions weighing heavily on her shoulders.

“Wait!” Cinderella called out. “You are not from this city are you?”

“No.”

“And you must have travelled far for you not to know the story of Cinderella.”

Jé Kinah looked back at her. “There is a story?”

“There are many stories.” Cinderella gestured for her to sit back down. “I will tell you the one which began it all.”

“Over one hundred years ago a nobleman lived in his mansion with his daughter. His first wife had died in childbirth and though he loved his daughter dearly, he yearned for a wife. So he remarried a widowed woman who became the daughter’s stepmother. The stepmother came with two girls older than the daughter and while she was pleasant and engaging at first, when she found out the true impoverished nature of the nobleman she quickly took over the household. She convinced her husband that they only had enough money for dowries for her daughters and that his daughter had to earn her keep.

Without her father’s complete knowledge his daughter was reduced to the role of a servant in the house. She cleaned, washed the linen, tended the kitchen fire and on the coldest nights she slept right up against the hearth to keep warm, smudging herself with cold cinders in the process. We are told that she became known as Cinderella although that could hardly have been her real name. Perhaps she was Ella once and because of the cinders…well…young girls can be incredibly cruel at times. Not once did she tell her father what she endured because she saw how much he loved his wife.

One day, when Cinderella was in her sixteenth year, the King announced that there was to be two grand balls, one after the other in honour of his son’s, the heir to the throne, eighteenth birthday. And there was a strong possibility that he would choose a wife from one of the many women who attended as every eligible maid in the city was invited. When Cinderella heard of it she asked if she could go and was ridiculed by her stepsisters. Her father pointed out that though she was humble in appearance, she was a nobleman’s daughter and allowed to attend. The stepmother said that Cinderella was allowed to attend if she made her own dress from one of her late mother’s old ones.

All money that could be spared, and much that could not, was spent on the stepdaughters in preparation for the ball. And while Cinderella stayed up late sewing and tailoring a dress of her mother’s, she could not escape the exhaustion from the chores the stepmother and stepsisters poured upon her. In the end she had no choice but to pretend that she had decided not to attend and waved her father and stepfamily off in a carriage without her on the night of the first ball.

Weak with sorrow she wept in the gardens when her fairy godmother appeared and told her she was there to make her ready to go to the ball.” Cinderella gave a light smile. “The next part becomes a little…unbelievable. Apparently the fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage, mice into footmen and driver and then, from the rags Cinderella wore, she created a stunning, jewel encrusted dress complete with glass slippers.

She was warned that the spell would disappear by midnight so she had to be home by then. When she arrived at the ball the prince had eyes for no one else but her and they danced late into the evening. Cinderella was mindful of the time and made sure she left before midnight. As the clock struck twelve, her carriage returned to a pumpkin and her gown became rags. Her stepsisters and stepmother spoke of the beautiful girl they’d seen at the ball and Cinderella realised that they had no idea it had been her.

The next night was the second ball and, again, her father and stepfamily left and the fairy godmother appeared. She warned Cinderella again to leave by midnight but she was so enraptured by the prince who sought her out among countless others that it was only when she heard the clock begin to strike twelve that she realised she had to leave. She ran from the prince who pursued her only to see her flee in her carriage, a glass slipper on the staircase of the palace, left by her in her haste.

All that had been enchanted turned back the way it was…except for the slippers. Am I boring you?”

“No. Please go on.” Jé Kinah sipped her tea.

“The prince, desperate to find the woman he wished to marry, went door to door with the glass slipper, trying it on every eligible maid in the hopes that he would find her. Eventually he came to the nobleman’s house and the stepsisters presented themselves and even though the slipper did not fit, they tried to win him over to no avail. When the prince asked if there was anyone else in the house, the father finally spoke of his daughter. With the stepsisters mocking her and the stepmother in a rage, Cinderella presented herself in her rags before the prince and the slipper, of course, fit perfectly. And then she showed that she had kept safe its twin.”

Cinderella had worked furiously on her bundle of rags and begged to disappear behind a curtain. Her voice carried out from behind the curtain as she continued the tale. “Whether or not they are the true facts of the legend is a matter of debate. But that is the tale as when I first heard it.”

“I do not understand.” Jé Kinah put her cup down. “You had a fairy godmother here. You have a stepmother, stepsisters who are unkind to you…there is a ball…what does all this mean?”

“It means that we are all meant to play our part.” Cinderella looked around the edge of the curtain. “The royals saw the immense power and influence the original Cinderella wielded and decided that they would try to recreate the story. And the people have bought into it. Up to sixteen years before a ball is due to be held, almost every girl baby born is Cinderella…or variations of it. Cindy, Cinder, Ella, Bella, Embers and one poor soul was even called Coal. And that is simply because they will be of eligible age when the ball is held every ten years.”

“Every ten years?”

“Every decade the King and Queen host a ball and invite all the eligible maids of the kingdom to attend in the hope of winning their eligible son. And there have been many new stories of Cinderella since the first one. Indeed I do not think there is a way of telling this story that has not already been done!”

Jé Kinah stood up. “Are you telling me every ten years the miracle of the first Cinderella is played out? They must have a great many sons.”

“They borrow them.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Many princes from other kingdoms are invited...sometimes there are nobleman’s sons there…it is a feast of eligible lords and ladies. And every decade there are those who truly believe that they are the embodiment of Cinderella.”

“Or those that believe someone else is.” Jé Kinah remarked.

“I am this year’s favourite.” Her tone was entirely without conceit and with a large dollop of sarcasm. “I have a stepmother, I have two step sisters and all that is lacking is a weak willed, impoverished father. I am kind to the poor and I do what I can to help the needy. I have been told often that I would make a fine Cinderella,” Cinderella looked out again, “and I will have no part of it.” She came out from behind the curtain. The cluster of rags had somehow turned into a ball gown of hand width squares of fabric, sewn outwards so that their hems were showing. The squares were on an angle so that they appeared to be diamonds and at the bottom they finished in a beautiful, uneven line. The bodice was dark red velvet and the straps were more scraps of the squares sewn together. She had not removed the rags from her hair and the effect was altogether remarkable.

“Which is why I have been instrumental in organising a, ‘we refuse to be Cinderella’ ball in the square you saw me earlier.” She picked up a mask from her chair and held it over her face, the main colour of it red like her bodice while the edges were burnt gold. “It is a masquerade ball so that we can enjoy a party without anyone knowing who anyone else is, including beggars, servants and other women like myself. You are more than welcome to join us. The fairy godmother left me a gown, shoes, gloves and hair combs in case I came to my senses.” There was a great deal of laughter on her face and Jé Kinah felt herself become quite envious and yet she was compelled to ask,

“Do you not want a happily ever after?”

“No!” Cinderella paused. “I mean yes. I mean, I want my happily ever after. Not someone else’s. I do not want my life scripted for me. I refuse to play into their hands.” She gave a weary shrug. “They have betting pools on who will win the prince. Why would I want my life to be the equivalent to a horse race?”

“To get away from the cruelty of your position.” Jé Kinah pointed out.

“There is nothing cruel about my position.” Cinderella smiled almost pityingly at her. “I sleep in a room upstairs, next to my stepsisters. This sorry little cot is just for show, for people to really believe that I am the embodiment of Cinderella. The only work I do around the house is the work I choose to for I cannot bear to be idle.”

“But your stepsisters were cruel to you…”

“They are as kind as the day is long. The eldest, Cosima, hopes to be an actress one day and Febe has a heart of gold. They only do what they do in town for…”

“For show.” Jé Kinah was starting to understand. “So your stepmother is a kind woman?”

“Perhaps that is a little too kind to say about her.” Cinderella chuckled, tying her mask on. “But after my father died six years ago she realised how dire the finances were…and brought the lands and her noble title back to wealth again. She is a clever woman and she is banking on me becoming the next Cinderella. I rather think it could be she who is running the betting pools.”

Jé Kinah shook her head. “What about you? What do you want?”

“I am not sure what I want. But I know what I do not want. I do not want to be queen. I do not want the weight of title and having to stand a certain way, dress a certain way, raise my children a certain way…” She brushed down her ball gown of rags, the red velvet bodice warm against her honey toned skin. “It is a farce and I am not good at lying.” She smiled. “There is food in the pantry and there is a warm bed upstairs, third door on the left if you need somewhere to sleep. I am off.”

Jé Kinah watched her pressed her skirts through the doorway and begin to walk away. She felt something jolt within her and knew she could not leave it at that. “Wait!” Cinderella turned. “What if I were to tell you that…when I look at a person, I feel an instinct about them, about the fact that they have a happily ever after.”

“Then you must feel that often for happily ever afters are not just restricted to royalty or girls called Cinderella.”

“It is not just any happily ever after. “ Jé Kinah reached up and clutched the vial around her neck. “I feel compelled to watch out for those whose happily ever afters could change the course of history, that would be known throughout the ages and that their story would be told for generations.”

Cinderella walked over to her and grasped her free hand. “I thank you for your concern. But this is my life and I cannot be someone I am not and live happily ever after.” She reached up and touched Jé Kinah’s face in a motherly way. Despite the fact that the she-elf was hundreds of years older than her, Jé Kinah felt like a child again compared to the young woman’s clarity. “Perhaps you should look in the mirror and discover your own happily ever after.”

She moved away and Jé Kinah blurted, “Cinderella…”

“My name is Maria.” She turned and smiled, her white teeth stunning against her red lips and dark chocolate ringlet curls. “My father deliberately gave me a sensible, practical name despite the temptation to christen me Cinderella. It is the name I intend to cherish and I honour his memory. Goodnight.”

Jé Kinah was left standing in the little courtyard as Maria hurried off to join her ball. She opened her mouth a couple of times, lost and alone then went back inside to pick up her satchel.

“You see?” She muttered to herself. “She did not need me. No one needs me. And I only ever needed you.” She lowered her head and felt the well of sorrow she carried around inside her threaten to burst its barriers and overwhelm her. It would be so nice, for the ache to finally go and for her body to stop living. She would never transform again as her body became dust and moss and Jé Kinah would be no more. The quiet rest, the eternal dark was as appealing as a warm blanket on a cold night.

“What of the beast?” She whispered. “What will happen to it should I die? Will it die with me? Or will I release it to seek out someone else in despair?”

Deep from within she heard a hollow voice chuckle and she shivered.

“I will not let you out.” She breathed.

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I TOLD YOU, YOU WOULD NEVER BE FREE OF ME!

Her jaw tightened and she swallowed down her sorrow, putting up the barrier than she needed to keep in place lest the ache in her heart killed her. The vial was cool and soothing in her hot hand and she paused a moment, taking comfort from the memories she clung to. When she opened her eyes her gaze fell onto a pane in the window. She could see her reflection, the tremor in the glass, shift with meaning. She knew instinctively that her shadow, cast by the firelight, was becoming longer, larger...jagged and sharp...

“No,” she said as she shook her head and stood up, the shadow dispelled in her movement until it was just her elf form that remained, “I will not be ruled by you.”

She slung her satchel on her back and went to the door...then paused…

“It is a grand ball,” she murmured and looked down at herself, “even with my elf ability to be inconspicuous I will not even be able to be granted admittance like this.” She looked over her shoulder at the curtain Maria changed behind and sighed. “Please be tasteful…and not pink.”

The gown the fairy godmother had left was, to Jé Kinah’s great relief, not pink or any other warm hue. It was ice blue with fine white lace covering the bodice, adorned with tiny crystals. There was white organza from the top of the bodice in white ruffles around the top half of her arms and met together at the back where it was laced up. The skirt was very full with more organza in generous scallops three quarters of the way down, pinned to the dress with organza roses. It posed a problem with the lacing up as Jé Kinah had no one to rely upon so she simply tied it as tight as she could, climbed underneath, breathed and relaxed with her arms up straight then through the armholes, until the dress simply slid on.

There was no way of knowing how it looked on her but Jé Kinah only needed to be presentable enough to get into the ball.

“If I can just see the prince...if I can know that he and Cind…Maria’s fates are not entwined, I will be content to leave well enough alone.” The slippers were blue covered with white lace and were a touch too big but they would have to do. She took up the hair combs and peered into the window pane.

“To think I once hated my curls.” She murmured as she scraped her hair back from her face, over her pointed ears, twisted them into delicate ringlets and pushed the combs in to hold them there, hiding her heritage. Finally she pulled on the satin gloves and her beastly nails and somewhat scaly hands disappeared under a layer of pure white. “There…I think that will do.”

The doorway presented a problem and she nearly fell through it. It was pitch black now and she had to pick up her hem in order to avoid treading on it. The dress weighed more than Jé Kinah was used to and she wondered if she would even make it to the palace with the energy to continue to stand. Providence, it seemed, was on her side as a pair of white horses thundered up the drive to the house, pulling a large, white and silver gilded carriage.

“Miss Cinderella!” The footman leapt from the back and hurried towards her. “I bring word from your stepmother. You must come to the ball at once.”

“But I…”

“I am afraid you stepmother was very clear on the matter.” The footman took her arm. “Please, this way milady.”

Jé Kinah found herself settled nicely inside the carriage on a plush seat as the carriage took off at speed, racing through the streets of the city. She clung on as they rounded several corners and she swore the carriage lifted from the ground at one stage in the driver’s haste to get her to the ball as he was required to do. Fortunately there was a mirror in the carriage and she was able to refasten her hair, leaving a large portion to hang down her back when the carriage paused for a pair of large gates to open and let them through.

When they finally stopped on crushed seashell gravel, the footman opened her door and another man reached for her hand. When Jé Kinah emerged from the carriage she was able to take in the palace in its entire splendour. It was a great yellow stone building of archways, columns and white trim. It glowed gold in the countless lanterns that were hung from it and the light washed out onto Jé Kinah, the carriage and the extensive gardens before it. A red carpet led from the carriage to the palace and it was lined on both sides by impeccably dressed footmen.

Jé Kinah stepped down timidly, starting to doubt the wisdom of her decision, and began to walk up the path. Apart from the footmen, the front of the palace was practically abandoned. Jé Kinah walked up to the palace, needing to draw her skirts up so that she didn’t trip over the hem in her awkward shoes. She peered inside as a tubby little man waddled towards her.

“My, my, my we are cutting it fine!” He slicked his three strands of oily hair back on his otherwise bald head and wriggled his moustache. “But then you are lovely. I am sure no one will mind your tardiness.”

“I just need to see the prince.” Jé Kinah tried to explain as she was taken by the arm and hurried along.

“Of course you do and you will. Now, up this staircase, down the corridor towards the open arch. Let us hope the curtains are still up.” He gave her an impatient wave and bustled off.

Jé Kinah shook her head, looked up at the marble stairs and took a deep breath. She hiked up her skirts once more and began to climb. Her loose shoes continually wanted to come off and she had to scrunch her toes to keep them on. Finally at the top of the stairs without humiliating herself by falling over she walked down the corridor. It could have had several giants in it and not seemed pokey it was so high and wide with chandelier after chandelier hanging from the ceilings where murals were painted and gold gilded frames with portraits of the previous monarchs hanging on the walls.

“I just want to be by a riverside in quiet comfort.” Jé Kinah whispered and shuffled to the end. Now she didn’t know where to go. There was a long corridor perpendicular to the one she had just traversed and along the far wall was a series of archways but they were all filled with white cloth. Jé Kinah looked to the left and to the right and saw large candelabra glowing brightly but not a soul to be seen.

She tip toed up to the cloth of the archway directly facing the main corridor and went to peer through the curtains when they were suddenly drawn aside to reveal a night sky full of stars. Jé Kinah peeked around the curtains and saw two doormen on either side of a red carpet that led across a short lip until it cascaded down three dozen large stone stairs with a dais at the first and second dozen markers before it opened up into a grand ballroom that was open to the sky. Large arches reached over the semi oval and there were statues and candelabra everywhere.

And hundreds of elaborately dressed guests and nearly half as many servants stood on the open ballroom terrace were standing, staring up at her. Jé Kinah gazed down at them in dumbfounded amazement then glanced over her shoulder in case they were looking at someone behind her. She realised that, though the curtain had been impossible for her to see through, to everyone at the ball she had been a crisp silhouette.

So much for sneaking in.

Panic rushed upon her with force and she was nearly on her tip toes to run when a tall, ruddy, good looking man sprinted up the stairs and stopped two steps below her. Without realising it Jé Kinah had picked up her skirts and half turned, her feet poised to run like a startled deer.

“Fear not my lady,” the man smiled broadly, his dark hair slicked into rich curls on his head, “you, of all people, are most welcome here. You are the fairest maid that I have ever laid eyes on.”

The audacity and scripted nature of his words nearly turned Jé Kinah’s fear into hysterical laughter but she swallowed down the urge. “And I am sure you say that to all the ladies.”

“A few.” He chuckled and held out his hand. “Please…”

Jé Kinah had to step forward to do so and her slippers decided at that very moment to do what they had been threatening to do all along and tripped her up. She would have righted herself except her treacherous ball gown threw its entire weight on top of her and shoved her forward so that she fell into the sweeping arms of the prince. The gasp of the crowd could be heard every from their perch way above and Jé Kinah was fairly certain she heard someone grumble that she had stolen their move. The prince smiled down at her stunned expression.

“What an entrance.” He said warmly and helped her to stand up.

“My shoes are too big.” She blurted.

“All the better for leaving behind on a stair.” He bowed. “My name is Prince Antonio. And you are?”

Jé Kinah paused. Inwardly she heard herself yell not to give the answer she inevitably gave,

“Cinderella.”

Prince Antonio smiled again. “Of course you are. Please, allow me.” He escorted her down the stairs where, to her relief, the focus had shifted off her as she was presented to the other royalty. “Cinderella, may I introduce you to King Vittoria and Queen Michela.” Jé Kinah gulped and did her best to curtsey. It hadn’t occurred to her how much she would have to do and know in order to get her to who she needed to see. The King and Queen were adorned in royal splendour. The King had curls like his son which had turned grey. The Queen still retained her rich dark haired hue, the curls piled up in an epic style on top of her head.

Jé Kinah wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say anything to them or do anything in particular. Prince Antonio seemed pleased with her silent demeanour and moved her on to the next royal subject which was a prince. “This is my brother, Davide, second in line to the throne.” Davide was a nervy, gangly prince who looked like he wanted to be buried in a book rather than suffering a ball. Jé Kinah almost wished she could join him but Antonio moved her on to the last prince who was a sullen looking individual whose dark hair was quite long and tied back from his angular face. His brows were heavy and his mouth was in a firm line. He wore his clothes like they were an offense to him and Jé Kinah noted that he had deliberately not buttoned up his royal coat correctly. No one could misalign those gold buttons and even if they had, no servant would have allowed him out dressed so poorly. “And this is my brother Niccolo.” The way Antonio said it was a perfect reflection of Niccolo’s own attitude, tired and a little frustrated.

Jé Kinah curtseyed and Niccolo gave a slumping bow. Antonio then introduced her to a number of other royalties. Her head was reeling by the end of it and Antonio turned to her.

“That should be enough for now.” He smiled. “May I?”

“May you what?”

“This is a ball. Dancing is usually an acceptable practice at a ball.”

Jé Kinah was sure she was blushing and without being able to come up with an acceptable excuse found herself drawn onto the dance floor. Her shoes were problematic and eventually she simply kicked them away so that they slid beneath a round table with a floor length tablecloth. One shoe poked out treacherously and she glared at it before returning her attention to her dance partner.

“So...no more princes for me to meet?”

“You are discontent with the one you are dancing with?” Antonio seemed blessed with good humour.

“I am merely…”

“There are several other princes at this particular ball but they already had dance partners. Fortunately for you, I was free.”

He was also blessed with supreme confidence.

“I see.” Jé Kinah struggled to keep up with his movements, never having done much dancing in her whole life and the one dance she remembered fondly was nothing like this painfully graceful swirling. They were part of a large, rippling crowd on the ballroom floor and the motion was making her so dizzy she couldn’t even keep up polite conversation. Fortunately Antonio was enjoying the attention of the dozens of women dancing around him, enjoying their jealous gaze at his captivating partner.

Finally the dance ended and Antonio whisked her away to an archway near the far end of the ballroom. “I shall return with refreshment for you.”

“Unless I am whisked away again.” Jé Kinah steadied herself by clinging to the archway.

“No one would dare. I have made my claim.” Antonio winked and walked away.

With no other princes daring to accost her and all the eligible ladies of the city giving her death glares, Jé Kinah was thankfully left alone. “What was I thinking? Stupid, stupid decision yet again.” She sighed and fished the vial out of her bodice where she had tucked it for safe keeping. “He is not here. No one is here. Maria was right. Of all the stupid, idiotic…what is he doing?”

She spotted the youngest prince, Niccolo, moving stealthily to her position, then shifted behind an archway out of sight. Jé Kinah edged towards where he had been. There was no prince to be seen. She glanced around and saw Antonio had been happily waylaid by some young women with full skirts and low bodices. She was able to get even closer to the prince’s last known location. Tucked behind the archway was a concealed narrow staircase down the steep wall that was at least thirty feet long. It reached a very narrow corridor between the ballroom wall and the wrought iron fence that kept out the unwanted elements from the palace grounds.

And sneaking away far below was the discontented prince like a thief in the night.

Jé Kinah looked over her shoulder, saw she was free from observers, took up her skirts and tip toed down the stairs. It was precarious going as the stairs were narrow, her gown was full and a fall would possibly kill her, definitely maim. But she had the footing of a mountain goat with her feet unencumbered by big shoes and made it to the bottom intact. It was a quick sprint along the tiny walkway to where a gate had been left open that led out into the streets of the city.

Jé Kinah saw a shadow disappear around a corner and bolted after it…unaware that her escape from the Cinderella ball had not gone entirely unnoticed.

The prince moved fast. Jé Kinah had a hard time keeping up with him without alerting him to her presence with her rustling skirts but after a short amount of time it was clear where he was headed. His direction never wavered from aiming for the sound of a party in full swing. And in absolute irony Jé Kinah knew instinctively which party it was he really wanted to attend that evening.

At the very edge of the ball in the town square the prince abandoned his distinctive royal jacket behind a water barrel and picked up a random mask that had been dropped by the wayside. Jé Kinah, hiding in the shadows not far behind watched as he shook off more than his jacket. He rid himself of his disgruntled demeanour and perked up remarkably.

The square was a swirling mass of bodies dressed in beautiful gowns or raggedy gowns and the men were dressed in much the same way. There was so much laughter and light and music that it turned the ball they had just left into a sombre wake in comparison. There were barrels of cider and bottles of wine, tables of food, bread, cheese and fantastic smelling meats. The poorest people of the city were gathered in one place and the mood was fantastic.

Jé Kinah saw Maria serving behind a table, handing out bowls of soup with a side of crusty bread. Her face was covered with her mask but her eyes were bright and clear and she was smiling at every poor man and woman who came before her and handed out food. She noticed that the prince, disguised in his mask and without royal emblems on his jacket, approached the table. Maria did not hesitate to give him food even though it was clear he was better dressed than almost everyone else at the party. They spoke briefly and Niccolo moved aside to let someone else through, tucking into his meal with vigour.

“Come on.” Jé Kinah whispered. “Talk to her. Ask her to dance. She really would make a fine queen.”

The musicians struck up a new tune and called out a name that was unfamiliar to Jé Kinah. It was clearly well known as the square flooded with men dashing across and grabbing partner’s hands and drawing them into a chaotic mess that somehow organised itself into three rings with a single couple standing in the very centre. The band leader called out once more for any remaining couples and while Jé Kinah was looking anxiously to see if Maria and Niccolo were one of the couples, someone took her hand and pulled her into the fray.

“Oh I am sorry…I do not…”

But her voice was lost as the music began and suddenly she was pushed along with the tide, stepping to the right, twirling and stepping to the left. They clapped and side stepped and clapped again with Jé Kinah fumbling every other move, despite that this dance was far more like the one that she remembered. Her eyes were too busy looking for Maria and Niccolo when the dance forced her to change partners and the sequence began again. It was a brisk, whirlwind of a dance with the sequence meaning that the centre couple was replaced by a new couple each time it rotated. Jé Kinah had managed to catch sight of Maria at one side of the circle and then spied Niccolo on the other.

Something was burning deep within her as she looked back and forth between the two of them when firm hands grabbed her and drew her close as they moved to the second circle. Jé Kinah tried to pull back, putting a foot wrong and stamping on the masked man’s boot.

“Easy Jé. If this had been a canopy of twigs you would not step a foot wrong.”

Jé Kinah half froze in his arms, staring at the blue eyes that sparkled at her behind the mask.

Only one person in this city apart from Maria knew her name and only one person in many, many years of travelling had been told to call her Jé.

“Evander?” She asked as she reached up to take his mask off. He took her hand and spun her around.

“You should know there is a certain mask etiquette to be adhered to. If you remove it, you must kiss the person behind it.” Jé Kinah snorted then paled as Evander laughed and clapped around her.

“You are lying.” She retorted and followed his actions correctly.

“A prince never lies.”

“Of course not.” She ducked under his arm and went to change partners when Evander did something fancy with his footwork and kept her with him, the other couples simply moving around them with ease. “How did you do that?”

“I have been well schooled in many forms of dance.” He grinned, the mask still cutting off a great deal of his face but she took note now of his fair hair that fell across his brow and the scar on his cheek from the battle in the forest where she had met him. “The biggest question I have is…what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. This kingdom is far from your own.”

“Ah yes but trade routes know no boundaries and can span the entire world.”

“Do kings trade in their royal sons these days?” Jé Kinah asked.

“A first born son is a King’s greatest commodity. And since I was unsuccessful in rescuing and falling in love with a princess in the forest, here I am.”

“At the world’s largest princes to eligible maid ratio ball.” Jé Kinah shook her head.

“At least I was…until I saw you descend from on high and then disappear into the night. I thought I had lost my mind for a moment.” They turned into the centre circle as the music became quicker. She looked over her shoulder, searching for either one of her targets. Suddenly she saw them and they were indeed dancing together. Her heart gave a little leap. She felt Evander press his fingers against her chin and draw her back round to him.

“Eyes forward and do not lose sight of your target.” He instructed and the irony was not lost on Jé Kinah who raised her eyebrows at him. “You were so kind as to give me pointers. Now I am doing the same. Turn here and clap! Turn back and clap!”

Jé Kinah was quick to memorize the rhythm and found she was able to keep up even with Evander’s experienced dance moves. He twirled her around again and she spun, somehow following his guidance into the very centre of the dance rings. The music was all encompassing and she found herself swept away in its grasp, in the memories that both comforted and haunted her. Their arms linked above their heads and they spun around and around, her gown flowing out behind her and Evander’s face closer than it had ever been before. The cheers, the laughter and cries of delight faded into the background as they continued to spin around and around…until it finally dawned on her that the music had ceased.

Jé Kinah stepped back, breathless in her tight bodice. Evander was panting as well and grinning.

“I knew you would catch on.” He chuckled.

Jé Kinah pressed her lips together and whipped up her hand. Her fingers slid beneath his mask and she pulled it away to reveal the face of Evander beneath. He gave a chuckle.

“Well…now you have to kiss me.”

She rolled her eyes and in doing so spotted a gown of rags disappearing down a side alley. She gasped and went after Maria, knowing full well that Evander was close behind. She saw Maria going into a pretty wilderness garden at the heart of the city surrounded by stone walls, creeping vines and large trees and wrought iron fences. As they crept along the fence and peered through the foliage they could see that it was a graveyard, a forgotten, overgrown graveyard with its own canopy of lights from the stars. And talking and walking amongst the gravestones was Maria and Niccolo.

Jé Kinah leaned against the fence, holding onto one of the bars and smiled.

Evander looked at her and shook his head. “I just do not understand you.” He said in a hushed tone so as not to intrude upon the romantic rendezvous. “You rescue a young, foolish prince from an ambush, go out of your way to see that a cursed princess receives her true love’s kiss, fight off hoards of evil beasts and then I find you here, a lifetime away from that forest, doing exactly the same thing in perhaps less filthy, yet equally dangerous, circumstances.”

“I do not hear question in there.” She remarked equally softly, her eyes never leaving the couple, unaware they were being observed.

“I think there is an interesting tale behind it all.” Evander smiled as he leaned against a portion of stone wall. “Why risk your life for someone else’s happiness?”

“The world is not as cold as you seem to think it is.”

“I believe it was you who pointed out that the world is a dangerous, unfeeling place.”

Jé Kinah blinked, her eyes lowering as she remembered her harsh words in the woods when she had first met the idealistic prince. “It is a dangerous place,” she said slowly, her tone subdued, “but I do believe there is still kindness and hope to be found.”

“I know it but whatever drives you is something beyond kindness and hope. You are compelled, even obligated and I wish I knew why.”

Jé Kinah paled and hoped that the darkness hid her fear. “It is not a question you would enjoy the answer to.”

“Am I not to be the judge of that?” Evander reached out and put his hand over hers. “Do you think me so fickle that I would cast you aside without a second thought?”

Jé Kinah looked at his hand, trembling on the inside. “Perhaps not the second thought. But eventually…you would run far away from me.” She whispered.

“I know you think I am young and foolish and a child compared to your age, though you are as fair as ever despite the years since I saw you last. But I have not been idle. I have travelled a great deal, sought out masters of exotic weapons and of remarkable talent and sat myself beneath their tutelage. I have fought beasts terrorizing villages and tried to live a life that I believed you would think well of.”

Jé Kinah looked into his blue eyes. “And you think that all that would mean something to me?”

“I have to believe that something does or else you would be looking at me with the same softness that you kindly bestow on couples in love.” He drew her hand to his chest and stroked the back of it with his thumb.

Her voice was being squeezed silent by her throat. “What about,” she breathed then swallowed, “about your prophecy? What the seer said about you at birth?”

“Why do you care about the prophecy?” He asked and his voice deepened as if he too were struggling to speak.

Jé Kinah shivered and looked away, unable to stand the intensity any longer. “I care about the princess...”

“Jé Kinah...”

“...her happily ever after...with you...”

“Jé Kinah, please...”

“Evander, you have a destiny...”

“Jé...look at me.” She had to bite her teeth together to keep her chin from trembling as she stared at the ground, at his shoes that were dusty from the filth of the streets. “Look at me.”

She was a coward. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t face him. Her resolve was all but gone and she knew that if she met his gaze, she would fold herself into his embrace, desperate not to be alone in the world anymore. But she had to restrain herself. “I have no soul.” She said coldly, cutting the heat of the moment with her statement. She could tell he was stunned, the silence between them no longer filled with passionate tension...but with shock. Having gained some ground she risked looking into his startled face. His face had paled. “Elves do not possess an eternal soul.”

“You mean…you will not go to heaven when you die?”

She shook her head. “It is why we live forever unless we are killed. And when we die, we become dust and moss of this earth. It is also why the elves left the earth, seeking a paradise of their own for life here had become unbearable for them.”

“Yet you remain.” Evander’s eyes were filled with easy tears and Jé Kinah cursed herself for having caused him the pain she knew she inevitably would. “I have heard it said that you can earn a soul if you do good deeds.”

Jé Kinah snorted. “Though I do not know everything, I do not think souls can be purchased so cheaply. I do what I do because…” She pulled her hand away from his chest and clasped the vial, willing for clarity to infuse her, for ‘his’ face to be her guide as it always had. But the only face she could see was Evander and her clarity was slipping away as he put his hand over hers, at the base of her slender throat. “Because…happily ever afters need a helping hand…or else they die.”

Evander jerked his head towards the garden and Jé Kinah turned to see Maria and Niccolo talking intimately, Niccolo holding her hand and Maria blushing with pleasure. He reached out and with a consenting nod from her, removed her mask and then leaned in to kiss her full lips.

“It seems this happily ever after will get along just fine without you.” Evander chuckled. “Maybe it is time to look to your own heart.”

Jé Kinah felt exhilaration and dread course through her in an intoxicating blend as Evander leaned towards her, his hand cupping her face.

“What do you mean you’re the prince?” Maria’s voice was hard and sharp as it cut through the night. Jé Kinah and Evander immediately turned to see Maria’s beautiful face twisted in anger and Niccolo shrugging pathetically.

“I mean I am prince…”

“I do not want to know!” She retorted, picking up her skirts. “You think just because of who you are you can waltz in here and manipulate me to your own end?”

“Actually I believe the dance was the Clockdale, not a waltz but far be it for me to exert my royal superiority and correct you on the matter.” Niccolo’s defences were quick to go up and he stepped back, the magic of their moment lost in their anger. “And you cannot honestly believe I came with the sole purpose of manipulating you. You played your part too.”

“I would never have done if I had known who you were! I did all this to get away from people like you!”

“Oh do tell, what are people like me like?”

“Spoiled, self righteous…”

“Tempestuous, judgmental…”

“Pompous…”

“Spirited…”

“Ungrateful…”

“Unrefined…”

“Prince!”

“Wench!”

Jé Kinah looked at Evander and sighed. “You were saying?” Her ears pricked up. “We have company.”

Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of pounding hooves as a dozen horses and three times as many guards from the palace stormed the town square, sending the dancers fleeing, screaming and crying out as they did so. Evander and Jé Kinah ducked into the shadows as Maria and Niccolo sprinted to the fence and looked out.

“They are after me!” Niccolo cried.

The head guard could be heard calling out, “You are in violation of the city’s code of conduct. No unauthorized celebrations may take place without express permission from the King through the city officials. You all may go free if you tell me who is in charge?!”

“They are after me!” Maria gasped.

“They are coming.” Jé Kinah whispered as several horses and guards closed on their position.

A light shone in Maria’s face. “You there! Halt!”

“Run!” Niccolo and Jé Kinah both cried at the same time.

“I will not abandon the people!” Maria retorted.

“I will stand in your stead! Now run!” Niccolo roared at her. Maria picked up her long skirts and bolted for the other side of the graveyard as Niccolo threw himself in the open gateway.

“Out of my way peasant!” The guard roared and dismounted.

“You dare address a member of the royal family with such disrespect?”

Jé Kinah elbowed Evander and they slipped away.

“I must go after Maria. If the guards capture her…” She looked up and saw a lattice up the side of a house. She began to climb and looked down at Evander. “Look after Niccolo.”

“I just found you. I will not lose you again.” Evander reached up to grasp her hand.

“Please.” Jé Kinah begged and Evander sighed and let go. When he nodded Jé Kinah was free to climb all the way to the top of the roof and stood on the tiles.

She could see Niccolo arguing forcefully with the guard who had managed to move him away from the gateway to allow guards to pour into the graveyard. She saw Evander go to Niccolo’s defence and did his best to distract the guards. Jé Kinah then sprinted across the rooftop to the far side of the graveyard. She could see Maria had made it out of the graveyard and was running down a street. Jé Kinah leapt over a large gap in the rooftops, slid on some tiles and continued to follow Maria all the way along.

She turned down one street, bolted down another and suddenly found herself confronted with a locked gate at the far end. She pulled on the gate desperately then spun around to see a guard on a horse thundering down on her position. Maria looked around but there was no where she could hide.

Jé Kinah went into a slide, went straight off the edge of a roof, grabbed the edge and dropped to the ground, her voluptuous skirts cushioning her fall. She ran to the gate where Maria was trapped on the other side.

“Help! Please!” She screamed as the horse galloped closer.

“Look away.” Jé Kinah said in a dark voice and as Maria did so, fierce anger erupted within the she-elf. She grabbed the gate and roared as her arms covered in scales and her fingernails burst through her satin gloves in dark green horror. She bellowed and ripped the gate fully from its hinges and Maria practically fell through. The barely conscious Jé Kinah slammed the gate into place as the guard and horse skidded to a halt inches from it. She twisted the broken metal rods around the rest of the fence, trapping the guard without hope of untangling it.

“Run!” She yelled at Maria who had staggered to her feet, her eyes wide on her face. “I said run!”

A small burst of flame and smoke followed the terrified girl as she fled down the street and Jé Kinah turned her attention back to the guard.

He was terrified. “What the devil are you?” He whimpered and turned the horse around, galloping as hard as he could away from her.

Her hands shook mightily and she looked down to see they were covered in scales that burst out of her skin, that her beautiful satin gloves had been shredded and that her nails were dark and thick and long. Her back tingled and she could feel her body stretch and creak as the transformation tried to take her over completely.

“Go back!” She croaked. “Go back!”

WHO ARE YOU TO DEFY ME?

“Please…please…” She gasped and saw smoke come out her mouth. She clutched her throat tightly as if she could squeeze the air from her lungs and put out the fire within.

BEG FOR MERCY!

“I beg you…” Coughing convulsed her body and she swallowed down the burning in her throat.

YOU THINK ANYONE ELSE WOULD HAVE YOU? YOU THINK THAT LITTLE WRETCH OF A PRINCE IS A MATCH FOR ME?!

“Evander…”

I WILL CAUSE YOU TO TEAR HIM TO SHREDS!

“No!”

YOU KNOW I CAN. YOU KNOW I HAVE!

“Please…”

YOU ARE MINE SHE-ELF! MINE! AND NO ONE ELSE’S NO MATTER WHAT YOU MAY PRETEND!

Jé Kinah wobbled on her feet and tried to run as if she could escape the voice from within but the transformation was always harder to shake off than it was to change into and she stumbled around as though she was drunk. A half dozen guards came out of a street down the road so she threw herself into an alleyway, tripping over some crates and grabbing a line of washing as she fell.

Her head hit stone and that was the last she remembered.

It was late in the morning when the sun was finally able to climb high enough to spread its rays down the little alleyway where Jé Kinah had fallen. She winced at the light and put up her hand to block it, her arm tangled with clothing. She pulled the cord and clothes away, her head pounding without mercy and her eyes barely open. As she wobbled to her feet she put her hand out to touch the wall and felt her nails scrape the stone surface.

“Oh…” She moaned and peered at them. “Oh dear.” Her dress was almost as ragged as Maria’s ball gown and the trailing lace whispered across the cobblestones as she staggered to the end of the alley. “Maria…”

It took her an hour to walk to the mansion. Jé Kinah was in no shape to run so she simply put one foot in front of the other and pointed herself in the right direction. The jests and laughter of the people who saw her fell on deaf ears. Fortunately the evening had taken its toll on the city’s occupants and only the most dedicated people were out and about before noon that day.

And the sunshine did its best to wash away the terror of the night.

As she approached the mansion Jé Kinah could hear raised voices. She went around to the kitchen and slipped in that way. Her hands had been tucked beneath her arms so that they didn’t draw attention and before she did anything else she found her leather gloves and pulled them on. Then, curious as to what the yelling was about, she looked into adjoining room which was a pleasantly appointed sitting room.

In it was Maria who was sitting primly on a footstool while her stepmother strode up and down in front of her. Her stepsisters were also there and they looked uncomfortable at best.

“…to the ball? You had a dress! You had shoes! Everything about yourself was the best that money could buy and you threw such goodness back in my face!” The stepmother fumed. “Such an opportunity comes once in a lifetime and you wasted the night by dancing with vagabonds and commoners.”

“Better company by far than those at the royal ball.” Maria retorted.

“How dare you be so insolent! What makes you think…”

Maria stood up. “Stepmother, enough. It is over. Any opportunity you think I had at wooing the prince is finished. You can berate me until you are blue in the face but it will not turn back time nor will it make me feel the slightest contrition about my actions. What is done is done and what is more I have no intention of staying in this city to be of further humiliation to you.”

“What is this?”

“I am leaving. My bag is packed and I will not look back.” Maria tried to smile in the face of seething anger. “You have been kind to me. Kinder than you could have been and while I think a lot of it has been to your own benefit, there is no doubt that I am grateful. If I stay, you will have to provide a dowry should I marry. With me gone, you can focus on your daughters who deserve just as much attention to detail as you have provided me.”

“No Maria.” Cosima stepped forward, speaking for both of the stepsisters as Febe was in tears. “Please do not go. Mother, beseech her to stay.”

“She has a wilful countenance. Anything I have said or done for her benefit she has shunned.” The stepmother raised her chin haughtily. “I have no influence over her. Let her go as she wills.”

She stormed out of the room and Maria breathed a sigh of relief before Cosima and Febe were upon her, embracing her warmly.

“Do not cry my sisters. I would not have chosen anyone different to have grown up with.” Maria smiled. “I know one day I will hear of your great success on the stage Cosima and Febe, take care you do not lose that tenderness which makes you such a kind person.”

Jé Kinah drew back into the kitchen as Maria walked away from her sisters. She looked up and gasped.

“Jé Kinah! Oh my!” She rushed forward and grasped her hands. “After last night I feared the worst had happened to you! How you must have suffered!”

“Suffered?”

“Did the guard not arrest you?”

Jé Kinah swallowed. “You do not remember what happened?”

“I know you were infused with some incredible power to open the gate but after that…” Maria hung her head. “I was a coward and ran from you when I should have stayed.”

“I would not have let you stay.” Jé Kinah reassured her. “But what is this? I hear you are leaving?”

“I am.”

“And where are you going?”

“Somewhere far from here where the name Cinderella has never been heard of.” Maria was dressed in common clothing again, her hair tied back with a frayed handkerchief.

“Why are you not waiting for the prince to come?”

“Oh not you too!” Maria exclaimed. “I thought we had settled this! I do not want to live the life that Cinderella did! It is not my story. I want to live my story.” She moved away and put a bag on the table. “And as for the prince…self righteous…pompous…arrogant…funny…warm…honest…”

“Handsome, charming…kindness itself…” Jé Kinah saw Maria’s glance. “I…well I…”

Maria smiled at her. “And all the rest.” She sighed and leaned on the bag. “Jé Kinah…I do not want to be Cinderella.”

“Then go to him.” Maria looked up in shock. “Go to the palace. Do not let him come to you. Change the ending and make it your own.”

“How can I face him again? I said things to him last night…terrible things…if I had known who he was…”

“You would never have danced with him?”

“Of course not!”

“And if a prince had said that about a commoner…what would you say then?”

“That he was an arrogant brute.” Maria sighed. “I am not being fair, am I?”

Jé Kinah wanted to put her hand on Maria’s shoulder but she was fully aware that her fingers were monstrous and though they were hidden, they repulsed her. Instead she came up alongside Maria and looked into her face. “Not really…no.”

Maria smiled at the truth then paled. “Will you come with me? I do not think I can do this alone.”

“Of course.” Jé Kinah gestured to her tattered ball gown. “I would like to change first.”

An hour later they were at the palace gates and trying to convince the gatekeeper to let them in. He was adamant that they were not to be let in but at last he was convinced to send a page to the palace to check. When the page came back he whispered something in the gatekeeper’s ear and suddenly he was all politeness.

“Right this way ladies.”

Jé Kinah and Maria walked through the gardens to the front of the palace. It loomed over them, casting a long shadow. Maria gripped her bag tightly.

“I do not know about this…What if he rejects me without a second glance?”

“Then you walk away and shake the dust from your feet and live your life without regret.” Jé Kinah said firmly then stopped abruptly. “Evander!”

Evander took the stairs two at a time and jogged lightly to meet them. He looked fresh and rested, his golden hair silky smooth and his mouth in a beaming smile. “After we parted ways last night I realised I had no way of finding you again. I am very glad to see you Jé.”

Jé Kinah’s cheeks reddened to a red rose hue and had no shadow in which to hide. She caught Maria looking at her with a mischievous interest in her eyes and her embarrassment increased. Fortunately Evander turned his attention to Maria. “You must be the woman of uncommon beauty that Niccolo has been talking about since he was dragged in by the palace guard at one in the morning.”

“Uncommon beauty?” Jé Kinah raised her eyebrows at Maria.

“Flattery and hollow words.” She said brusquely to hide her pleasure.

“I told the gatekeeper you were to be admitted at once. This way.”

They entered the palace and stood at the double doors of a royal sitting room. Inside they could hear the King talking loudly and sharply.

“Of all the fool hardy, impudent things to do…sneaking away from a royal ball…do you know how much we invest in the ball in order to entice all the eligible maids to attend? We have to in order to find someone who will have such a rebellious, wilful son!”

“I did not want to play into such a farce! I heard there was a street party and decided that, instead of being bored to death at a royal function, I would go dance with the commoners and actually enjoy myself. If I am such a disgrace to you for doing so then disown me! I will happily live a common life!”

“Do not tempt me boy!”

“They are tired and somewhat wrung out over the events of last night.” Evander whispered. “The King ordered Niccolo to spend the night in a prison cell to ‘shake some sense’ into him. I think it has had the opposite effect to the one intended.” He pushed on the double doors and they opened to reveal a room adorned much the same as Maria’s home was only in excessive gold opulence and with many tapestries and servants. The Queen was seated with a straight back on an even straighter chair, her hands resting neatly in her lap. The King was storming up and down the room, his good humour of the night before lost in his frustration for his son. Antonio was there, standing with superior confidence as well as Davide who had buried himself in the corner of the room with a book.

When Evander, Maria and Jé Kinah came into view, all talk ceased and all eyes looked to them. Jé Kinah was at a loss but fortunately Evander knew exactly what to do.

“King Vittoria, Queen Michela…may I introduce Maria Giovanni, daughter of the late Lord Gabriele Giovanni.”

Niccolo’s eyes locked onto Maria and he darted forward. “Praise be! It is you!”

Maria hesitated. “You know who I am?”

“Of course. I danced with you last night.”

“So you do not need a fallen slipper to confirm it?”

Niccolo’s shoulders sagged. “You mean you, too, have fallen into the Cinderella illusion?”

“No of course not,” Maria snapped, “and do not presume to call me a fool.”

“No such word passed my lips.”

“You implied it.”

“No you assumed it. Just like you assumed because I was a prince I was arrogant and unpleasant…”

“I never said unpleasant.”

“I believe being arrogant is to be unpleasant.”

Jé Kinah looked at Evander. He winked and put a hand on her shoulder lest she attempt to intervene.

Maria paused in her verbal assault. “You called me a wench.”

Niccolo flinched, a bubble of humility rising to the surface. “That was uncalled for. My temper got the better of me. I apologise. Please forgive me.”

Maria pursed her lips and nodded. “Please forgive me for my words also.”

“Of course.”

“Niccolo, what is this? Who is this woman?” King Vittorio demanded.

“This is the woman I intend to marry father.” Niccolo announced, putting his arm around Maria who shoved him back and glared at his startled expression.

“I think not!”

“But I thought…”

“You assumed again, that I would want to be royalty. The last thing I ever wanted was to be queen.”

“Queen!” Niccolo exclaimed and Davide snorted with laughter in the corner. Vittorio looked to his wife and back at the confused couple while Antonio sniggered.

“As if my little brother was ever fit to be king.” He explained. “Niccolo is only third born and likely to end up a lord or duke…nothing too fancy.”

“Royal entanglements are unavoidable,” Niccolo shrugged, “but unless both my brothers meet untimely, childless ends, I will never sit on the throne. Uncomfortable thing it is.”

“Niccolo…” Vittorio admonished.

“So…” Maria frowned. “…if I were to marry you…I would not be queen?”

“But you would have a good portion of wealth. Think of all the good we could do?” Niccolo leaned closer. “Think of all the street parties we could host.”

Maria bit her bottom lip and looked down at his outstretched hand. Before she could take it Vittorio stormed over.

“I will not have it! Not a bit of it!”

“Vittorio…” Michela spoke for the first time. She was elegance herself as she stood up and moved across the carpet, her rich hair curled over one shoulder and her gown of peach, gold and cream swishing behind her. She reached out and took Maria’s chin, turning her face both ways then circled the young woman, appraising her with a careful eye. “She is quite a lovely creature with a great deal of potential. I think she would do well for our Niccolo,” Vittorio spluttered in his astonishment while Michela eyed Maria firmly, “if that is agreeable to you.”

“Yes, it is,” Maria paused, “provisionally.”

“I beg your pardon?” Niccolo turned to her, shocked. Maria smiled.

“I barely know you and while I think I could marry you and live happily ever after, I do not think we should assume so.”

Niccolo raised his eyebrows. “Then what about a courtship? With the intention of marriage?”

Maria’s smile was hard to contain and she nodded. “I accept.”

“Father?” Niccolo asked, taking up Maria’s hand and looking at the King. “Will you give your blessing?”

Vittorio’s anger was quick to ignite but burnt out fast as well it seemed as he shook his head, chortled and then roared with laughter.

“It seems I could not marry off my eldest last night but I have not failed completely. Come my dear and let us depart for your home. I should like to meet your family.”

Maria blanched. “My stepmother will love that.” She looked at Jé Kinah who gave her a sympathetic look. Maria sighed then started giggling and gazed at Niccolo happily. As the royal family moved past Evander and Jé Kinah, Antonio stopped and looked at the she-elf.

“You look familiar. Do I know you?”

“Not at all.” Jé Kinah replied firmly.

Antonio bowed and continued out. Evander raised his eyebrows at Jé Kinah.

“You just lied.”

“I did not. He met a stranger last night. Even I did not recognise her.”

Evander chuckled and escorted Jé Kinah through the palace to the ballroom terrace at the back. In the light of day the lake could easily be seen and there were lush gardens on either side. It was void of life, a far cry from the bustle of the night before. “Another happily ever after beneath your belt. You must be pleased.”

“Happily ever afters should please all who hear about them.” Jé Kinah remarked.

“And as always you are already prepare to move on.” Evander noted the satchel on her back.

“There is not much reason for me to stay.”

“So...where shall we go?”

“We?” Jé Kinah felt him take her hands and looked at his open face.

“Well, my business here is concluded. I have not married a princess or eligible maid as my father wished so I believe I could be disowned by him…” He stepped closer so she could feel his body heat. “I am very likely poor and common.”

Jé Kinah gave the smallest smile. “You are neither of those things.”

“Then let me come with you. Please Jé Kinah. You know how I feel.” Evander shuffled closer again, his head higher than hers so he had to look down. “Even if I wanted to hide it I could not. I am not very good at pretending. I am in love with you.”

Jé Kinah’s head jerked and her eyes focused on the spot just over Evander’s shoulder. The words she had heard only hours earlier ripping through her mind like fire.

YOU ARE MINE SHE-ELF! MINE! AND NO ONE ELSE’S NO MATTER WHAT YOU MAY PRETEND!

She yanked back from Evander, the force of the words as powerful as a physical blow.

“Jé Kinah?” Evander reached out to her but she recoiled from him, the air sucked from her lungs.

YOU THINK ANYONE ELSE WOULD HAVE YOU? YOU THINK THAT LITTLE WRETCH OF A PRINCE IS A MATCH FOR ME?!

“No.” She whispered and turned away.

I WILL CAUSE YOU TO TEAR HIM TO SHREDS!

The image of a body, broken and turning to ash in her hands seared across her mind’s eye and Jé Kinah felt rage and sorrow rise up within her from a place she had tried so hard to forget.

YOU KNOW I CAN. YOU KNOW I HAVE!

“Jé Kinah? What is it?” Evander reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.

Jé Kinah turned back to face him and the hardness in her expression caused him to take back his hand in surprise.

“What you feel for me is vague illusion, a hapless fantasy out of your own idiotic brain. Do you think for one moment that an elf would have anything to do with a human?”

Evander gaped and though it was tearing her up on the inside Jé Kinah advanced on him as though she was his enemy.

“Everything about you offends us, offends me. You are superficial and you are frail. I cannot look at you without seeing a flaw.”

Evander swallowed and shook his head. “No. I do not believe it. I will not believe it.”

“Whether you do or not is irrelevant and there is no plea you can make or sacrifice you can give that will appease me. Humanity is weak. You are weak.” Jé Kinah buried down any tenderness and looked at him with ice in her eyes. “You disgust me.”

She started to walk away from him.

“That is it? That is all you can say? What about last night?” Evander ran up to her. “I know you felt it too!”

He grabbed her shoulder and staggered back as a blade came singing through the air, scraping his cheek. He clapped his hand to his face, blood trickling out between his fingers, his eyes wide and fixated on her cold expression.

“Have I made myself clear?” She demanded. Before he could answer she turned on her heel and stalked out of the palace. When she was out of the palace she began to run. She ran until her legs burned. She ran until her chest heaved. She ran until her lungs were on fire. She ran like there was a pack of wolves at her feet and when she collapsed at the side of the road, wheezing and shaking, she discovered that no matter how far she ran, she couldn’t escape the sorrow in her heart.

And for once the vial around her neck gave her no comfort.