The Next Cinderella

Chapter 26--Sha-la-la...Kiss the Girl

Deep in the kitchen and secluded by the food storage shelves, Myrielle traded glances between the glistening spit-fired turkey leg and Fredrick.

"Do you like it?" he asked, with the expectant look of a guy who'd bought his girlfriend that Tiffany necklace she'd been eyeing.

She closed her eyes and deeply inhaled the aroma. "No one's ever gifted me meat before..."

"I couldn't help but think of you when I saw it," he said, his tone quickly escalating to 'ultimate boyfriend devotion.'

As far as sixteenth century courtship between two people who had zero money went...this was quickly climbing the charts.

She began to reach for the turkey leg but stopped herself. What if she returned to the dining hall and they noticed? The king would be the first to sniff out the truth. "They'll be expecting me back at the table now..." The words that were coming out of her mouth conflicted with the way she was licking her lips. "I need to finish that proper royal dinner before it gets cold..."

He rolled his eyes. "That bird food? You know that isn't you...come on then, just have a little taste."

Fredrick had transitioned from devoted-sounding boyfriend to 'guy on a street corner peddling crack cocaine.'

Judging by her hypnotized expression, his contraband turkey-dealing ways were working. "It is quite silly," she said. "That they expect grown women to eat like birds..."

He nodded in encouragement. "Extremely silly."

"Especially considering the fact that we have adult-sized bodies," she went on. "Which of course would mean we have adult-sized bellies too!"

"Of course"! He cheered. "You have needs!"

"So why should they stop us from feeling full?" She tentatively took hold of the turkey leg. "Perhaps it's time to start a revolution!"

Fredrick raised his fist in the air. "Go forth!"

With one bite, Myrielle would change the world. Or so she thought. In reality the twenty-first century would prove to be obsessed with 'cantaloupe diets,' and the pressure to have sexy post-baby bodies.

The future was bleak, but on this fine day, in the year fifteen-hundred-and-something, Myrielle held that turkey leg for all those hungry women out there, the ones who suffered the fate of being painfully squeezed into corsets.

"Just a few bites and we'll return to the others," she said dreamily, which in two seconds flat transitioned into full-on devouring.

As she chomped away like déjà-vu from the first strange day that Fredrick and Myrielle had met, he had just one question that he needed to get out of the way. "There's something I must know for certain," he said quietly.

She glanced up at Fredrick mid-chew, a juicy piece of turkey skin hanging out of her mouth. "Yes?"

"I suspect that I'm an accomplice to Bella's current predicament," he said. He'd initially convinced himself it didn't matter if a girl like Bella suffered a dose of sabotage, but he was starting to feel a little guilty. "Is her face the result of the ingredients I gave you? Please be honest."

She rolled her eyes. "Well of course it is."

He was completely thrown off by her candor. "But she just...looks so horrible now. Was that really the right thing to do?"

Myrielle nodded. "She does look horrible. And yes it was. But you have to believe me when I say that she was horrible to all of us." She sighed. "And you also have to believe I have an antidote. Because I do. Okay?"