The Next Cinderella

Chapter 30--The Ultimate Choice

All eyes were on Myrielle, waiting for her to answer the million-coin question.

Did she love him?

Only minutes before, Fredrick's hopes had been shattered when he'd learned that the kingdom's only chance out of debt was to keep Myrielle in the contest. Now he felt the tiniest glimmer of hope, knowing that if Myrielle spoke from her heart she would no longer be able to continue this spectacle. The only thing he wasn't sure about was whether or not she would do it.

Recent memories flashed before Myrielle's eyes. They included every moment she'd spent with Fredrick since their first strange meeting in the academy. He'd always seen her for who she was, and not only had it always been enough, but it had also been fun, addictive...and lately quite romantic too.

And then there was the prince. The prince had only ever seen Myrielle as a source of mockery and trash, so why would she lie just to share a life with him? She instantly remembered what would happen for the kingdom if she didn't.

"We need an answer," said Gianni "Lovesick and a traitor?" He frowned. "Or a winner who saves the kingdom from its heavy financial burden?" His murderous clown-grin returned.

Myrielle took a calming breath before turning to face Fredrick. His pleading eyes were practically oozing out of his head. "Don't do it!" he whispered.

She clutched her stomach but the churning waves persisted. "Love?" she said softly.

With all the strength she could manage, she pulled her stare away from Fredrick's oozing eyes. And then, impossibly...she matched Gianni's clown-grin with a psycho smile of her own. "You're asking me if I'm in love with a servant?" She then proceeded to cackle, as the last bits of Fredrick heart were trampled on, set on fire and thrown off a cliff.

The prince was in no way convinced by her callous reaction. "Love, yes, that's exactly what we're asking you. And, if it isn't true, how do you explain what the beast-girl saw?" He gestured to Fredrick's hands. "And what's slathered all over his fingers?"

Myrielle's clown-grin never wavered, as she seemed to have a way of committing herself wholly to manipulative tactics when needed. "I never actually said we didn't kiss—and we did, for which I deeply apologize." She put the clown-grin on pause to clasp her hands together innocently. "But the reality is...I didn't have much of a choice."

The prince seemed confused. "So you're saying that...he forced himself upon you?" He stepped towards Fredrick like he was suddenly defending her honor, the honor of a woman he openly despised.

Myrielle stepped between them and waved her hands in the air. "I wasn't forced!" she cried. The prince put his supposed macho display on hold. "I wasn't forced but at the same time...I was compelled in a way that left me with very little choice."

Gianni ability to record every line of gossip was as dedicated as it was speedy. He flipped to the next page and underlined the words 'Peasant Conundrum'.

The prince's face was inches from Fredrick's now, an intended sign of intimidation that actually made it look like they might kiss. "Tell me what this monster did to you," he said.

"It wasn't what he did but rather who he is." Despite Fredrick's heartbreak he was suddenly intrigued. "Fredrick's been a servant now for what, ten years?"

The king nodded. "Ten years and nearly four thousand nightly baths," he said firmly.

"Ten years without the touch of a woman?" she said shaking her head. Fredrick's glimmer of hope turned to raw humiliation. "Who could live like that?" She shuddered. "I pitied him for a long time, and when I noticed that he was so captivated by me...could I really deny him the chance at some excitement?" She shook her head. "It just seemed cruel not to make his lowly life a little better."