Cinderella's Secret Witch Diaries Box Set: Lost, Stolen, Found

November-2

A gentleman talking with the prince nodded in my direction and then he turned around. I remember this moment. This is when it all happened and became real to me. I was Sophia still. My stepsisters had yet to poison people with their tales of my working for them, cleaning up their messes, and their lies about me. Before the time that everyone called me Cinderella. I was at the moment of innocence, and all would fall together.

“I am enchanted to meet you this fine evening.” The prince took my hand and kissed it with such charm.

I wore light blue gloves and could not feel his lips on my skin, but a shiver went through me, nonetheless, and a small part of me thrilled inside. “I am delighted to meet you, too.”

He smiled, and the night turned to day for me. My heart beat faster, and I wanted him to kiss me again. His eyes appeared to twinkle, and the blue energy that swirled around me intensified, and those nearest us took a step back in concern.

“Who are you?” His simple question asked more than the words.

“I am a merchant’s daughter.” I lowered my head, glanced away for a moment and needed to rally. I was talking to the prince. I needed to make my mark. This was my moment. “I feel a bit lost as this is my first ball.”

“I will take care of you then. You will be my guest.” He put out his arm for me to take hold of. “Would you like to dance?”

A circle of interested people had surrounded us. I had not noticed them before, but the prince had. He saw the attention we were getting and he liked it.

I hesitated for a moment and then took his arm. He smiled again and then pulled me close to him. Raising his arm, he made a quick motion with his hand and the music commenced. He pulled me with him across the dance floor, and I could not take my eyes off of him. I must admit that I could not do so. He was so charming that night. What had happened to us?

I never wanted the dance to end. He covered up all my mistakes, leading me with expertise and precision. As we danced, we flowed across the floor, and my magic surrounded us in light and crackling energy. We were a spectacle to behold. The prince and a young magical woman—not a common sight of the day.

The music swelled, and we danced along, our eyes locked. I could tell that neither of us wanted the song to end. For that moment, we were caught in each other and our spirits were entwined and happy. Happy with the possibilities of what we could do together as a couple, as two who would fall in love.

When the song ended, I expected him to bow and leave me for another, as I could see the other girls lining up in a circle, waiting to see whom he would choose next. I could see the anxiety on their faces, and I realized that I had been picked above them all. How they must have hated me with my magic dress and shoes. They all looked glorious to me, but how could they compete with my magic? They simply could not.

I went to pull away from him and he leaned closer and asked, “Would you like another?”

And I did. I wanted to dance the rest of my life with him. How foolish I was, but I fell for him there with his wavy hair, accepting smile, and firm hands. The hands of a prince never rough or showing the sign of working the land. My own hands were chapped from having scrubbed and washed the entire house in the anticipation that one of my stepsisters would be chosen by him. How laughable my situation was! How extraordinary that I could be twirling in my blue dress, which shot off sparks like fire, with the prince.

He twirled me and I spun, spun, faster and faster into his awaiting arms, and we came together as though it was our destiny. I remember all this. Reliving it again, with the memories I now have was private and special. We danced for hours, and slowly the onlookers gathered round, judging me without having heard me speak a word. Many were jealous and put off by my arrival and with how easily I stole the prince’s heart.

At an intermission, he pulled me away to a balcony. He smiled and went over to a table, pouring me a glass of wine.

“Here, you look thirsty.”

I accepted and took a tiny sip. The dancing and the closed quarters with so many people had exhausted me. I had been working since before the dawn, scrubbing away, but tired or not, I would not let my fatigue show.

“Thank you.”

I put my glass down and looked up at the full moon, not quite certain where the conversation should go.

The prince poured himself a glass and took a sip, looking at me with great interest. Now I know what that look meant, but at such a young age, I took his staring at me as simple curiosity. Back in the large hall, I could hear the low rumble of all the guests as they laughed and talked during the intermission.

“What is your name?” He stood by me and leaned against the balcony like a sly cat.

“Did you not hear me being announced when I came in?”

He nodded. “Yes, I did but I want to hear you say it.”

“My name is Sophia, Your Highness.” I curtsied and kept my eyes low.

“Sophia, the cinder girl.” He mumbled it low and when he said my name, a thrill passed through me.

A moment in time was coming quickly. A path in the road and I realized that I would need to make a decision. I remember what I had done when this happened the first time. How my life had changed from that moment onward. I glanced up at the sky and could see a few stars and the bright moon, climbing into the sky. My gown flowed around me and the magic within rested a bit. All was calm.

The quiet moment continued between us and I did not know what to say.

“Sophia, come kiss me.” The prince put down his glass and then put both hands, palm down, on the balcony. He leaned against the stone, waiting.

My choice, the thoughts that circled all through my head, and my heart beat like fire thrumming to the dawn of a new day. I could turn toward him, or I could leave. I know what I had done before, but now, with all that I knew and everything that we had been through, would I choose different? All the pain and the hurt, his harsh words and criticism and yet, here, in the dark of the night, with music swelling from the ball, I looked into his eyes and he wanted me. I could see it now. He wanted me like a man wanting a drink in the desert, and I could deny or surrender to him.

Would my life be different if I made a change now? Why had the Silver Fox brought me here? There had to be a reason. There always was with him. It was a game within a game, yet could I erase all of my history by walking away or declining his request?

I acted and quickly came forward, kissing him on the cheek, but this time, I went further and with gentle care I closed his eyes with my hand and kissed him on the lips, lingering for a moment so that he could take my presence all in.

Then I withdrew, hovering over his lips for an instant longer, and I pulled back with fiery intent. He opened his eyes and I could see that I had surprised him. He took a breath and then coughed into his hand. He regained his composure and I could see him thinking on what to do next. I had changed the rules and made a slight change in history. What would he say and do?

“Thank you.” He came away from the balcony and put out his arm. “We should get back to the ball.”

“Let us go back and dance some more.” I accepted his arm. “I would like that.”

When we entered the room, all chatter ceased, and the guests turned to us, whispering. We had been gone for only a few minutes, but I suspect the rumors had already begun. That was the way of court life. In the past, when I did this for the first time, the attention and the onlookers overwhelmed me. I leaned close to the prince and he protected me. Yet tonight I held my head high and smiled right at the faces in the crowd. They were powdered, primped, and jealous. I smiled openly and let my warmth flood out over the group.

The prince raised his arm and shouted for all to hear, “Let us have music and dance!”

The music struck up instantly and we skipped across the floor and I laughed, loving every moment. For the rest of the night, we danced and my magic flared, sending blue shocks of light spinning around us, harmless yet awe-inspiring. Magic so rare and often not seen, the bewildered guests gave us some privacy, as no one dared enter into my sphere of influence for fear that the sparks would hit them.

I cannot remember how many songs we danced together, but another break came and I could see that midnight was upon me. Once again, I had nearly forgotten. At the end of the song, I begged away so I could attend to myself, but, like before, he could not be so easily fooled.

He pretended to laugh at a joke of mine and then whispered into my ear. “You are leaving, are you not?”

I would not lie to him. For all that we had gone through, I did not wish to plant a seed of untruth between us.

“Yes, I must leave for the night. It is nearly past my time.”

He walked me to a side room and we were alone once inside. “Is there nothing I can say to make you stay for one more dance?”

“No, I must go.”

He thought a moment, started to speak, and stopped. A moment passed and he asked, “Will I see you again?”

I could answer with such accuracy now. “Yes, you will if you want to.”

“You are so cryptic and mysterious.”

I came close to him, tiptoed and gave him a kiss on the lips. “No, I am not. I simply speak the truth.”

He marveled at my words and pulled me close, giving me a deep kiss of wonder. Young love, so warm and true and heartfelt! I allowed him to kiss me and returned his affection. We stood pressed against each other as best we could, as my gown acted as a guardian for me, keeping us somewhat separated. The kiss lasted longer than I had remembered and much more passionate as the years stretched by and all of my memories and love fell into that simple act.

I counted the seconds in my head and there I was, like a girl again, kissing the prince, falling in love again, and knowing that the future would bring me such pain and hurt. He was a man and, for him, he gave his heart so easily and without regret. As a woman, trust took time and was much more private and unspoken. The words that he would say to me about his love would be like poetry that he wanted the world to see, whereas I would simply show him my love for years and years and years. My love would be a ribbon stretched through time, a gift of sight, sound and experience, and yet he would one day reject it.