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

June-5

He looked me in the eyes and said, “You have always been good to me. I have treated you badly but I must be honest now. I do not love you. I have pretended long enough.”

He thought a moment, scratching his several day old beard. “The choices set out before us are clear. If we want to live at the castle, we have to raise a child together, yet I do not wish that.”

I could see my life with him clearly on his face. I had been a distraction, a fun companion for a time, but now he wanted to move on. I wanted so many things, but not the life he offered.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

He did not answer at once. He pulled back and laughed. “Do? What can I do? If I go back with you, we will need to pretend that we are happy and then come to an understanding. If I choose to leave, well, I am unable to do that as my mother would chase me to the ends of the Earth. So I will stay. Tomorrow we will see the witch, return home, and have a child so that everyone can be happy.”

He had not asked me what I wanted or how I felt. Wave after wave of anger and grief washed over me. I had always kept his feelings in the forefront of all my decisions because I wanted to make certain that he was cared for and loved. I had seen how his parents treated him, but his response was to rebel and back away.

My life stretched out in front of me and I envisioned being with him. We would be civil to each other. He would have his lovers and go on his adventures. In time, he would come to accept my taking a lover, and I would have a child. The witch could fix my problem for me, and the world would continue to see us as a happy couple.

Everyone would be happy—except me. I would always want more. I have a choice in front of me, and I do not remember what else we said to each other. He left my room and I stared out at the gardens, listening to the crickets. He had made his decision of half-heartedly committing himself to returning home with me. The years we had spent together had been of no importance to him. I think because he was the prince that I had always elevated him in my thoughts, for that is what one should do for royalty. It is what is expected, proper and right. I wondered how I would go forward, and my heart ached, but it was not over losing him. Dear Fairy Godmother, my heart ached not for him but upon realizing that I had allowed myself to truly believe in the fairy tale. I am off to bed now, for I do not feel well. I need some rest to help me prepare for tomorrow.

June 17

I have had some rest and would like to write before the queen calls me to leave to see the witch. Before I sat down to write this, I took my glass slippers out and put them on my bed. Today I will wear them, as they are my luck charm, and maybe some of their magic will help me with the witch. I must admit that I am frightened a bit. I do not know what to expect in seeing her, nor do I know what she looks like. I only know that she holds my fate in her hands, and I want our visit with her to be ended quickly. I will write as soon as I am able.

Late in the day on June 17

I have learned that I am with child.

I have so much I wish to write and put down here, for I want to be truthful. Oh, dear God, thank you for the bountiful gift you have given me!

Fairy Godmother, I will expound on all that that happened today at the witch’s. Let me start at the beginning. After I last wrote in this diary, I met the queen and prince for breakfast, and we then left by carriage to keep our appointment with the witch. We remained quiet on the journey, as I watched out the carriage’s window at the beautiful warm day that was so unlike the last time we visited. I did get to see the fields of sunflowers that the countryside is so known for in the summer. The flowers had not yet bloomed, but they were beautiful all the same. During the ride, the prince stared out his window with a look of disinterest on his face and the queen kept her eyes closed, seemingly relaxed, but I imagined she was praying for magic to heal the rift that had occurred between her son and me.

After some time, the captain of the queen’s guard informed us that we had arrived, and the queen exited the carriage first. With great interest, I looked out the carriage’s window, seeing her go into the house. She was admitted without trouble this time, and several minutes later she came out and was escorted back to the carriage.

The door was opened for her and she climbed back inside—her face a mask, hard to read. I looked at her expectedly and took a breath, sat back in my seat and folded my hands. Patience would do me well today.

“The witch wishes to see you alone.” The queen nodded to the nearest guard, who still held the door, and he opened it for me.

I climbed past my husband, who ignored me and said not a word, and asked, “What should I do?”

The queen thought for a moment and replied, “Be true.”

I took the hand of the guard and he helped me down the carriage’s stairs. I turned back and saw the queen and prince and felt this divide as though I were walking onward to another life, leaving them behind.

When I arrived at the door, it was opened for me and I went inside. A strong, earthy herbal smell saturated the house as dried plants hung from one corner of the room. There were a table and chairs on the right, and the hearth on the left. The fire burned brightly on the warm day.

Coming out from the other room in the house, the witch entered. I had not known what to expect, but she did not appear as I had imagined. Tiny, slight of build and of middle age, she wore her hair down, and her loose fitting clothes suited her well. She had no shoes on her feet, and there were markings on her left shoulder. When she came toward me, she smiled and asked me to sit down by the table. I did so and waited. I did not know what would happen. For a few moments, an uncomfortable silence drifted between us and she reached across the table to take my hands in hers. She turned my hands over, studied my palms, and traced the lines there with her finger.

Then she smiled warmly at me. I remember that she offered me some tea and her voice was so melodic and free as though she had no fears or concerns. I declined the tea and asked, “What is your name?”

She poured herself some tea from a kettle on the table. “My name is Renée. What is yours?” Her English clear and nearly without an accent.

I told her my real name and she smiled, putting down the tea. “It has been a long time since you have used that, has it not?”

I remained quiet, unsure what to say, and she then took pity on me and changed the subject. “You are not here to discuss your name, but you have another question for me. What is it?”

I took a moment to focus my thoughts and concentrate on what I wanted to say. Then I asked, “Can you help me become pregnant?”

She responded right away which surprised me. “No, I cannot do that.” I must have flinched in fear and disappointment because she added quickly, “Because you do not need my help. You are already pregnant.”

Her words are still ringing in my head. I have longed to write those words down to prove to myself that I had not dreamed them up and that I had heard truthfully. I am pregnant now, I am with child.

After Renée told me that I was pregnant, I did not believe her and thought she joked. She asked if I felt some queasiness in the morning, tenderness in my breasts, and a veil was lifted from my eyes so that I could see clearly. I have attributed how I have been feeling to worry and stress. My days have been filled with much concern.

Renée sipped more tea and placed the cup down on the table and waited for me to calm. I had so many questions and she could see through me. “You did not know that you were pregnant?”

I nodded and started to say something but remained quiet.

“No one knows who the father is, do they?”

She had seen through me. I truly did not know that I was with child or I would have shared this great and wonderful news with you. All these years I thought that I was barren, but that is not the truth. On May 12, Henri and I took comfort in each other, and now I am with his child. I wonder what he will say once I tell him. My life is now changed, and all that I thought once set in stone has been uprooted and moved. Yet let me continue my story. Please, have patience with me and forgive my withholding such intimate details from you. I have been afraid to admit my true feelings for Henri, for I am ashamed.

For some time, I sat quiet and filled with such surprise and joy. Tears of happiness streamed down my face, and I could not stop crying. Renée hugged me, and for a good long while I rested in her arms. I said some things I do not quite remember, but she was strong, firm, and helpful. When I had regained my composure, she again offered me some tea, which I now accepted.

Renée watched me sip my drink, and I could see her eyeing me up as I composed myself. I wiped the tears from my face and fiddled with the ribbons on my dress. I looked at her and asked, “What am I to do?”

She reached across the table and took my hand. “You have choices …”

I cut her off before she went any further. I was adamant about the baby.

She squeezed my hand and told me to relax. “No, that is not what I meant. I have watched you long enough. I know you want the child. What I mean is that you have choices. You can lie about who the father is, or you can tell the truth. When you leave here, however, the queen will want to know what I have told you.”

With all my strength, I wrapped all of her words around my heart. I needed to make a decision. Never had I imagined that she would tell me that I was pregnant! I know that sounds so naïve of me, but I have believed that I am barren and the possibilities in my life have been limited by that belief.

I needed time to think and I told Renée that, but she again pressed her point home and asked me again, “What do you want to do?”

She let go of my hand, stood up, and came to stand behind me, covering my eyes with her hand. I could smell the Earth on her, and I relaxed, comforted by her power. “Close your eyes and be at peace.”