Fantasy Short Stories

Ballroom Beauty (Winner)

 wallflower_r                   ... in "Weekly Writing Contests" ... Prompt #10 ... Due March 31st ... (100-2500 words) ... Prompt: A re-telling of the Cinderella tale. What if she never got away but instead the magic wore off and the prince saw who she was?

The prince fell back a few steps sputtering and pointing at the young beauty he'd danced half the evening with. A moment ago she had been twirling in his arms to the faint sound of the orchestra, which was carried by a gentle breeze out into the garden where the two of them had been quietly and happily soaking up each other's company undisturbed. And now she was ripped from his arms by some magical force he was unable to counter as she was stripped of her sparkling tiara, her exquisite diamond encrusted gown and every vestige of wealth and refinement she'd been adorned in. The prince hardly knew what to do.

When the enchantment was undone he stared in abject horror at the dirty, forlorn, servant girl who stood before him in a torn dress with grass stains. He took comfort in the fact that she looked truly mortified by the unexpected change.

The prince watched with curious wonder as her mouth fell open with shock but not a single sound escaped her throat. She had such a pretty mouth. Such delicate, kissable lips. He shook himself of the thought. Now was not the time. Actually, never was not the time - she was a bloody servant!

"What is this witchery?" he demanded to know in a furious voice feeling equal parts duped, crushed and bewildered.

Her stunningly dark eyes, which he'd been lost in only moments ago, were glassy with unshed tears. She blinked and the first tear crested her eye lashes and spilled down her soft cheek. He'd caressed that cheek with his own hand half the night. He'd never felt closer to another human being his entire life before ... before her.

The tears of a woman and the tears of a child could wind their own spells around a man's unsuspecting heart. So, the prince very carefully hardened his heart against her tears now. She had deceived him and with a magical spell no less. What other things might she have done to him if he had not unwittingly discovered her ruse?

"Speak!" he commanded. He was so close to calling the Imperial Guards. He was on the verge of shouting for someone to arrest her and cast her into the deepest, darkest dungeon. Betrayal stung the pride but lacerated an open and trusting heart.

"I only meant to dance," she explained piteously as she hastily wiped at the tears which she could not stem. She looked as heartbroken as he felt. It was some consolation.

"Stepmother promised I could come. The invitation said all eligible ladies," she hiccuped and her shoulders sagged in her despondency. "I only meant to dance," she half whispered, half choked out again as if that explained everything. As if it absolved her of all responsibility for this treachery - for stealing his affections.

"Why the disguise?" he demand loudly, refusing to give in to his desire to comfort her and tell her all would be well. He folded his arms across his wide chest to give the appearance of a tall and menacing figure, which he was not.

If she had come dressed in anything less than the glories of a princess of wealth and rank he would never have brought her to the garden. He would have danced a single dance with her, as was expected, and kept moving through the crowds of eligible young ladies until he found a suitable princess to romance all night with his wit and charm.