Tales of Fairies ~ A Collection of Modern (and Occasionally Queer) Retellings

The Prince and The Girl with the Golden Slipper

A/N : this is based off of Maria and the Golden Slipper, a story quite similar to Cinderella!!

—

A ball. That was how I was to choose my future wife, how I was to find the most beautiful woman in all the land. For, my father, the king, had spent ages introducing me to each and every princess and noble woman from the surrounding lands, each as boring and bland as the last.
I loved my kingdom. I still do. So does she, now. I loved the people, and I had seen more than a few beautiful women out in the streets. So, I threw a ball, and invited all the women of the proper age to come so that I could see them all at once, side by side, to find the perfect one,
So, on the first night, when everyone was coming in the door, laughing and chatting, and sneaking glances at me, running up, skirts swaying and the blush spreading across their cheeks when I bent down to place my lips on the backs of their fair hands.
I smiled. And then I saw her.
There was a girl with light brown skin, and dark curls that ran down her back, freckles scattered across her face, and across the bit of collarbone and chest her dress showed.
She looked nervous, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do. Unlike the others, she had not come in with her sisters and her cousins. She had come alone.
I watched as she looked around for a table with an empty seat, landing on one where two of the first girls to enter had been sitting, placing herself in the chair between them. The two sisters looked her up and down, but then, without a word, returned to staring at the other girls and whispering loudly to one another about how ugly all of them seemed to be.
The girl was looking around, her hands obsessively smoothing the skirt of her beige ballgown, until her eyes landed on me. I smiled, making my way towards her.
She stood when I was a few feet away. "Prince Macecadel." I said, kissing her thin hand, letting my lips linger a few seconds longer than they had on anyone else's.
The girl nodded frantically, her curls bouncing as she did, and she smiled. I felt as if her hand was no longer in my own, and that it had made its way between my very ribs, squeezing it ever so gently, but refusing to let go.
"May I have this dance?"

--
I danced with her the entire night, and it was clear she had never danced properly before, but I found it quite charming. She laughed and smiled, and allowed me to lead.
The click of her golden shoes against the floor as she spun are a sound I am sure I will remember for the rest of my days.
When the clock struck eleven, I saw her begin to get nervous, constantly glancing around, her laugh less full. "I must go." She said, and before I could get out a word, before I could ask for her name, she was gone.
--
Now, I could have searched for her. But none of my guards could remember how she looked, and I was certainly not going to go knocking on every door in the kingdom. So yes, another ball was clearly the best option.
I didn't bother greeting the other girls properly that night, much to my father's dismay, but I waited by the door for that girl, that beautiful girl, to return.
It wasn't until later that I realized what a gift it was that she had shown up, once again, in that same beige dress, and those same golden shoes, with that same smile that took up a room, and those same curls that I tucked behind her ear in between songs.
That night, she did not listen to the clock, and she did not run just past eleven. It 'twas not until midnight that she bolted, this time without a word.
This time, I did not let her run.
This time, I ran after her.
But she was gone. Gone, into the night, the only thing remaining of her a single golden slipper left on the staircase. So the morning after, I immediately sent out all the men to search for her, taking the golden slipper with them, and ordering them to have every woman try it on her foot.
Barely any time had passed when I began to wish I had accompanied them, just so that I could hope to see her sooner.
Barely any time had passed from them when she was there, in the scraps of peasant clothes, and two golden shoes, the sides of her lips flicked upwards nervously as she moved her hand in a timid wave, her head cocked slightly to the side, with one of my men on on either side of her, standing in my doorway.