The Next Cinderella

Chapter 33--How Low Can You Go?

In the next two weeks the contest progressed without incident, something that was certainly a first. Another new development was Bella's face, which had miraculously improved since slathering on the contents of the mystery jar. In a matter of a week she was back to her flawless self, and not only had the prince taken notice, but he'd kept her in the contest long enough to advance her to the final four.

The beastly reversal didn't suddenly mean that Myrielle and Bella became friends; if anything it only re-established their earlier animosity. The renewed tension was really no surprise to Myrielle, but what she hadn't anticipated when fixing Bella's face, was how desperately the prince would want to have her as his princess instead. How had Myrielle not anticipated that? Maybe the inevitable contest win had falsely expanded her ego, or maybe she'd actually started to believe that the prince could grow accustomed to her unglamorous appearance.

"I've decided to make Bella your handmaid," the prince declared, as Myrielle escaped from her swirling thoughts and remembered she and the prince were strolling in the garden. It was the evening of the final elimination before the royal ball, and tensions were high for the other three contestants who actually thought they had a shot.

"Excuse me?" she said, smelling the flowers that passed along the way to distract her from this boring session.

"Bella will become your handmaid," he repeated. "As soon as you officially become my wife." He choked down some vomit as he uttered the last word.

Myrielle struggled to wrap her head around the idea. "But why?"

"Because having her as your handmaid will mean she'll always be in the castle, with easy access to our bed chamber, and well...I'm sure you can guess the rest."

She studied his perverted smile with newfound shock. The prince had sunk to a brand new low of being a piggish and horrible excuse for a human. She'd tried to ignore his heartless disposition as much as possible in the last two weeks, but every attempt had been a challenging task and now it was near impossible.

"Is Fredrick okay?" she blurted out. She hadn't expected to mention his name let alone have the nerve to request a 'dungeon update,' but the prince's description of his future whoring made her long for Fredrick's kindness more than ever.

The prince started to twitch like there was an insect in his eye but it was actually the ticking time bomb of rage. "What did you just ask me?" he uttered in a vicious whisper.

Now was her chance to beg for forgiveness, but something about the way the prince handled himself made the fear she should've had for him non-existent. It was probably because of how he'd flinch whenever horses galloped past him, or the way he'd screamed that one time when he'd tripped over a twig and nearly fallen. It was almost like he was made of glass and could shatter at any moment, and if that was the case...she would crush him if he tried to be aggressive in any way.

"I was asking you how Fredrick is doing in the dungeons," she said with confidence. "Is he handling it well?"

The prince turned and blocked her from going any further, his blue eyes burning bright with anger. "The servant you betrayed me with is not your concern."

She met his stare and wasn't the least bit intimidated. "You're certainly one to talk about betrayal don't you think? When you plan on keeping an in-house mistress in the castle?"

"That's because I'm a prince," he said proudly.

"And soon I will be your princess," she said. "And there's nothing you can do to fight it or stop it if you want the kingdom to prosper."

His confidence faltered for a moment, but he managed to kick it into 'fifth gear jerk mode.' "The debt will be gone once I marry you, but that doesn't mean I can't make your life completely miserable for every single day thereafter."