Dancing on Glass

Shatter Me

As it was, from gossip through town, every lady really was allowed to try the shoe. And every lady failed to fit.

For ladies with small feet, the shoe fell off. For ladies with large feet, the shoe wouldn't go on. For ladies with the same size shoe as Cinderella, well it never seemed to be quite right.

And every day over the next week, Cinderella checked on her shoe. Buried in the depths of her room, at the top of the house, paranoia made her move it around the room. Under clothing, in the trunk, under the floor boards, even in a small cavern in the wall where the bricks could be pried loose and finally out of her room all together and into Dia's.

The shoe and the lady were all anyone could talk about since the letters came through. Everyone was convinced they knew who the Duchess was.

One lady said it was her daughter, proudly boasting she had disguised her every night. People were inclined to believe her.

At least until the shoe arrived for its fitting and the mother almost broke her daughter's foot trying to force it in. Quite embarrassing.

A gentleman explained that it was really one of his maids and it had all be for a bit of good sport. Quite possible, even if the shoe did fall off and almost shatter from the drop.

"La, it's so very boring waiting for our turn," Giselle said, hanging over the back of the sofa at the end of the week, staring dully out of the window. "Why didn't he just come here first?"

"Why? Do you expect your foot to fit?" Jezabelle asked without looking up from her book.

"It might."

"Then mine will to. And Cinderella's."

"Please, as if Cinderella would try it on, you weren't even at the ball."

"I might like to still try it on though," Cinderella said calmly as she poured Giselle a tea.

"So you can play fairy princess?" Giselle laughed.

"There's nothing wrong with playing pretend," Cinderella replied, "Besides, it wouldn't matter one way of the other. Because if it fits one of us, it fits all of us. A shoe doesn't prove anything."

"How would he possibly even know her to look at her anyway?" Giselle said, "She wore masks and wigs every night."

"Really?" Cinderella asked, handing Jezabelle her tea.

"Really. Quite unnatural things. All to make her look supernatural, I suppose."

"Not all, the third one wasn't a wig," Jezabelle said, sipping her tea.

Her sisters looked at her.

"You could tell?" Giselle asked.

"You couldn't?"

Giselle glared. "Of course I could!"

"It was clearly her real hair," Jezabelle continued, "So at least he knows her skin and hair colour, and her eyes to, judging by how close they were."

"Shame really," Giselle said, turning back to the window, folding her arms on the back of the sofa.

"What is?"

"I thought Prince Andrew loved that princess."

"And?"

"Shame they won't let him just marry her."

Cinderella and Jezabelle looked at Giselle in shock but she didn't notice. A moment later they were distracted by Lady Constantia calling Edgar and Dia down to the entrance hall.