Dancing on Glass

Hot Chocolate

"Is it true?!"

The door to the kitchen banged open and Cinderella almost dropped the plate she was cleaning as Giselle burst in, staring at her, eyes wild.

"What?" Cinderella asked, staring.

"Is it true? Is Mama allowing you to come back to court?" Giselle said, racing down the steps, hands slamming on the kitchen table, eyes widening even more.

"I... yes," Cinderella said, setting the plate down, "She needs me to come back because she can't hide the fact that she has a third daughter."

Giselle sank into a seat, stunned.

"It's not that surprising," Cinderella said, offering her a cookie from the fresh batch she had left on the side for cooling.

Giselle took one automatically, cramming it into her mouth and taking two more, still staring blankly ahead.

"Do you hate the idea that much?" Cinderella asked, setting the tray aside again.

"What?" Giselle said, looking at her in confusion, then glaring. "No of course not, that's not it. I couldn't care less if you were a servant or lady."

Cinderella raised an eyebrow. "Funny, I didn't get that impression before," she said.

Giselle shrugged. "Just because I don't care doesn't mean I can't play up," she said and Cinderella glared at her.

"You're a wretched piece of work, you realise that don't you?" she said and Giselle sneered at her.

"Only told yesterday that you'd return to court and already speaking above your station," she said back.

"When I am returned to court, you'll fast realise that, at least in public, you're station is below me," Cinderella replied.

Giselle rolled her eyes.

"Poor, naïve, stupid little Cinderella," she said, dropping her chin in her palm, "You have no idea what life has in store for you."

"What do you mean?"

Giselle laughed. "You cannot truly believe life will change for you just because you'll be visiting court once in a while?" she said, staring at Cinderella like she was insane. "You won't get any freedom just because you get some pretty dresses and a dance with a duke at the occasional ball. I doubt she'll let you marry well – if at all. Who is going to save you?"

Cinderella was silent. She had no come back, no retort.

Nothing that wouldn't belie her hurt at the words. She felt a lump force its way into her throat and pressure compress her chest at the knowledge that Giselle was probably right.

"I don't need someone to save me," she muttered bitterly, slowly taking a seat, her hands clenched together on the table top.

"Be that as it may, she isn't wrong."

Cinderella and Giselle looked around as the kitchen door opened again and Jezabelle walked in.

"There's nothing to stop me telling people about her – about all of you," Cinderella said as Jezabelle took a seat beside her sister.

"No, but who would believe you? The poor child whose mind was unravelled by the deaths of her parents."

Cinderella opened her mouth... then paused. She had been about to retort with 'I have more allies than you might think,' then changed her mind. No sense in showing cards at this stage of the game, she might need an ace – or two – up her sleeve yet.

"Honestly, she's not going to have a clue about life with people like us," Gisele muttered to her sister.

"No? She's more graceful and pleasant on the eye then you are half the time, which is a good start."