Broken Glass

“Where is the maiden whose foot fits this slipper?”

“She doesn’t live here, My Lord. My girls have already tried the shoe, and unfortunately it fits neither.”

“And, Madam, are there any other eligible young women who reside in this household, who have yet to try on the slipper?”

The woman side-eyed her daughters, who stayed silent.

“No, my Lord. We are the only residents here, since my late husband died three summers ago. I apologise for keeping you.”

The man on the horse smiled at her grimly. “I should apologise for intruding, Madam. I was informed that your husband had three daughters. Where is the third?”

The woman glanced behind her eldest child to the cellar door, where a faint voice was calling through.

“Help! Is someone there?”

***

“Hello. My name is Lord Speak. Are you Madam Tremaine’s daughter?” His voice was calm as he searched the dark room for the young woman. She stood behind the door in the shadows.

“N-no,” came a small voice, “I’m her s-step daughter. She was my father’s wife.”

The guard stopped for a brief moment, then pushed the door further ajar to find the girl. “Where are you? Please come out, we request that you try this shoe on.”

A moment of silence passed. “Why?” she questioned quietly.

“The Prince is searching for his true love, the beautiful woman he danced with at the masquerade ball last week. He does not remember her face, but she left behind this glass slipper. It appears to be made specifically for this girl, so each and every woman in the kingdom who is of age is expected to try the shoe, to see if it fits. Would you please come out?”

***

“It fits.” whispered the guard.

“It fits?” asked the girl.

“IT FITS?” shrieked Madam Tremaine. “How can this be? You were home all evening, I saw to it! And how could you have afforded a dress and shoes like those?” She stormed over to the cupboard, where the girl had hidden away her treasures - a beautiful golden dress, shining in the few rays of sunshine that poked their way through the boarded window, and the remaining glass slipper, which was filled with mice. They fled as Madam Tremaine shouted “VERMIN!” and knocked the shoe from the cupboard, causing it to fall and smash.

The girl ran away from the spreading glass shards, and stepped into the lit hallway. There, everyone could see her for the first time.

Gone were the ballgown and dainty shoes from the dance. Gone was the golden, shining hair, twisted into a decorative bun atop her head. Gone was the flawless complexion that awed the crowd.

In front of them stood a girl, no older than twenty years. Her dress was grey, ragged and hanging several sizes too large. Her hair was greasy and damp. Her skin was marked, from acne, burns and bruises.

The second slipper was still on her foot, perfectly snug around her grubby toes.

She almost ran into someone as she hastily rushed through the door.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked the new man. The girl recognised his voice automatically, as she’d spent a whole night talking and dancing with him. She looked up into his dreamy blue eyes, but instead of the wonder and lust he’d held for her before, all that she saw was disdain and disgust, her own reflection hidden behind.

Instantly, she fell to her knees and bowed to him.

“Your Highness, I am so sorry, I was not aware you were in my home, I apologise-”

“You’re wearing my shoe.” He stared down at her.

“I- what?” She was unsure if she should rise or stay on the floor.

“You. Servant girl. How is it that my shoe fits you?”

The girl looked down. Servant girl. He doesn’t remember me. “Y-your shoe? This one?”

She took off the slipper carefully, and reached her hand out to pass it to the prince. He ignored it, and stormed into the room behind her.

“What is the meaning of this, Lord Speak? You said you’d find me my girl, the one I danced with. Not some commoner that has the same foot size.”

Lord Speak had been arguing with Madam Tremaine about the broken shoe, and so was startled by the Prince’s sudden appearance. After a quick bow and a ‘welcome, your Highness’ from both him and Madam Tremaine, he spoke.

“Prince Alistair, we have searched far and wide all week for your missing princess. The cobbler at the market examined the shoes, and determined they were made specifically to fit only one person, as they formed around their feet. Look at the markings in them, and-”

Prince Alistair cut him off. “So, you’re telling me that this- this maid, this peasant is the goddess I danced with on my birthday? HER?” They all flinched at his raised voice. The poor girl almost dropped the shoe.

Lord Speak spoke up. “Your Highness, she is the step-daughter of Madam Tremaine, daughter of Lord Tremaine. She is not a peasant.”

Prince Alistair stepped closer to the Lord, so their noses almost touched. He pointed out of the door to her, where she remained kneeling on the floor.

“Does she look like a Lady? Does she look anything like the woman from the ball? Will anyone recognise her?”

Before Lord Speak could answer, he shouted, “NO! She doesn’t. No, they won’t.”

He let out a frustrated breath. All the searching, all the towns they’d been through, only to find she’s a dirty little slave?

He stroked the hilt of his blade, hidden in a sheath under his travelling cloak. His favourite (and most used) weapon. A quick, simple way to rid them of a problem. Not the first time, and definitely not the last.

Madam Tremaine busied herself with collecting the broken glass. The girl was crouched on the floor, slipper sat carefully beside her on the cold concrete. She shivered but said nothing.

Lord Speak was watching the Prince with hawk eyes. The movement to his sword caught his attention, and he wanted to make it known.

“Your Highness, see reason. No crime has been committed here!”

The prince laughed coldly.

“She impersonated a courtier. She stole a dress. And don’t get me started on how she got those shoes! Those are crimes, my Lord. Even you must know that.”

The girl spoke quietly from her place on the floor.

“I didn’t steal anything.”

The men stopped still for a moment, and Madam Tremaine froze over the broom.

Alistair rounded on the girl, and almost tripped over her. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her upright harshly. She winced.

The Prince held her shoulder tight. “What?” he questioned mockingly.

The girl focused on the ground, where she’d left the second shoe.

“I- I said I didn’t steal anything. They were a gift!”

Alistair gripped her shoulder tighter, making her whimper. Lord Speak tried to interject, but Alistair cut him off again.

“Who in their right mind would give you of all people, a gown and a pair of glass shoes? You’re not fit to be seen in the castle kitchens, never mind the ballroom!”

“I-” She gasped for a breath. “It was my fairy Godmother, she- she gifted them to me before the dance! It’s why I arrived so late, I-”

Alistair pushed harder until she couldn’t speak through her tears.

“That’s enough,” said Lord Speak.

Alistair let go, and she crumpled to the ground once more, holding her arm.

He shrugged at Lord Speak, and brandished his sword.

“I can’t have a deranged servant come back as my wife, now can I?”

And he plunged the blade through her chest.

***

“What will you tell your father?” asked Lord Speak. The ride back had been unusually quiet, which unnerved him a little.

Alistair dismissed him with a wave of his hand “Oh, something of the usual sort. She was attacked before we found her, it was love at first sight, I can’t live without her… some of that nonsense."

Lord Speak said nothing in response, and they continued in silence until they reached the castle gate.

“Did you even know her name?” he asked as they were let through.

Prince Alistair thought for a moment. Then laughed.

“No. But remind me, I need to thank the witch for giving her those shoes, and I need to get this dress back to my mother before she realises it’s missing.”

Bundling the golden gown into a ball, he sighed.

“Don't feel down. I needed a way out of the marriage law, and at least we picked a girl no-one will miss.”

Lord Speak watched Alistair smile like a madman as he rode away. A single tear fell down his cheek, which he wiped clean away before following the prince to the stables.