Cinderella Junior Novel Page 9

  Until that moment, Ella had been quiet, not daring to speak, not sure what was happening. But at the word mother, she stepped forward. She would not take Lady Tremaine’s ruining her mother’s name. “You have never been, and you never will be, my mother,” Ella said, her voice steely.

  Nodding, the Captain held out his hand to Ella. “Come now, miss,” he said.

  Ella squared her shoulders and walked across the room, not even looking at her stepmother as she passed. But she couldn’t avoid the woman’s foul words, whispered in her ear: “Remember who you are, you wretch!”

  Ella didn’t respond. She kept walking right out of the attic and down the stairs, Lady Tremaine’s last words echoing in her head. She was about to see Kit, which was both exciting and terrifying. For what if, when he saw her for who she really was, he didn’t want her? What if her stepmother was right and she truly was no one? She stopped in the front hallway, her whole body shaking nervously, the Captain in front of her, her stepmother behind her.

  She stared at the door for a moment. On the other side was her future. Good or bad, happily ever after or not. And in that moment, Ella knew that she would not let Lady Tremaine’s words weaken her. She wasn’t a nobody. She was someone who was kind, even to people as horrible as Lady Tremaine. She was someone who made sure the mice were fed, even if she herself was not. She was someone who was brave, someone who wasn’t afraid to stand up for what was right. She was someone her mother and father would be proud of.

  Taking a deep breath, Ella walked the last few steps and opened the front door. Standing on the other side was Kit. Her eyes met his.

  “Who are you?” he asked, looking at her closely, an expression of recognition slowly spreading over his face.

  “I am Cinderella,” Ella said proudly. For Cinderella was a part of her now, and always would be. And she would no longer let it be a source of embarrassment. Instead, she would embrace it completely. Both as Ella and Cinderella, she’d become the person she wanted to be. “Your Highness, I am no princess. I have no carriage; I have no gowns. No parents and no dowry. I do not even know if that beautiful slipper will fit. But if it does, will you take me as I am—an honest country girl who loves you?”

  There was a silence. For a moment, Ella worried she had said too much. But then she saw delight in Kit’s eyes. “I will,” he said. Then, kneeling, he held out the glass slipper.

  Slowly and gently, Kit slid the shoe onto Ella’s foot. The action felt familiar to both Kit and Ella as they thought back to the swing on that fateful night. There was a gasp from the onlookers as it slipped right on, a perfect fit. Raising his eyes to meet Ella’s, Kit smiled. And in Kit’s eyes, she saw what he saw. Not the glamorous girl from the ball, but the woman whom Kit, the king, loved. In his eyes, she was beautiful and radiant. She was strong and kind. She would be queen.

  Rising to his feet, Kit took Ella’s hand in his and squeezed. All around them, the servants and guards bowed. After a tense moment, even Lady Tremaine and her daughters curtsied, though they seemed pained to do so.

  “Cinderella,” Drisella began.

  “Ella,” Anastasia corrected, trying to get in her stepsister’s good graces. “We are so very sorry!”

  “Forgive us,” Drisella cried.

  Ella looked at the two girls and smiled. It was a smile that didn’t make promises and left her stepsisters nervous. But Ella had already forgiven them. She could never treat them the way they had treated her. Still, for now, she would let them worry, just a little. After all, she wasn’t perfect....

  Ella and Kit stood quietly, hand in hand. In front of them were the two newest additions to the palace’s royal portrait gallery—one of Ella’s mother and one of her father. Ella smiled and squeezed Kit’s hand. So much had changed in such a short time. Seeing her family there among Kit’s, Ella felt love and happiness surge through her.

  Kit smiled. “We must have a portrait of you painted,” he teased, bringing them both back to the night of the ball, when they had stood in that very spot.

  “Oh, no,” Ella teased, playing along. “I do hate myself in paintings.”

  Kit put a hand to his heart, as though struck. “Be kind,” he said, grinning.

  “And have courage,” Ella replied, this back and forth now a part of their daily routine. A way to remind themselves of all they had and all they could have lost if not for their strength and conviction.

  “And all will be well,” Kit finished.

  They looked at the doors at the end of the gallery. “Are you ready?” Ella asked as they began to walk toward them.

  “For anything,” Kit replied. “So long as it’s with you.”

  Together, they pushed the doors open and walked out into the sunshine, where their subjects awaited the royal wedding. And as they said their vows and promised to love and cherish each other, it was clear to all those who had gathered that this fairy tale would end as all fairy tales should...with a happily ever after.

  My Dearest Reader,

  Can you see now why I’ve always loved this story above all others? It is the story I am most proud to have been a part of. It is a simple story, really. For at its core, it is a story about hearts closed off to love and hearts opened by love. It is a story of beauty, of pumpkins and horses and glass slippers. But most important, it is a story of kindness and the power of courage. And while I won’t often admit there are powers out there greater than magic, I want you to remember this: a kind heart is the most powerful wand of all.

  Now I must be off. A fairy godmother’s work is never done.