Fantasy & Magic: Stories & Contest Entries

10 Glass Slippers

Annette Dunrow trudged through the snow coating Brooklyn on New Year's Eve. She watched happy couples and groups on their way to friends' or clubs or parties. Her roommates were off to parties with boyfriends. She had not been invited anywhere.

She got a job for the holidays cleaning a brownstone inherited by her boss, Lance, and lugged boxes down from the attic.  Two boxes held champagne and one box held seven copies of an old collection of stories, 'Fantasy Tales from Westvalia.' Lance had given her a copy as a bonus instead of champagne.

In her basement apartment she changed into her warm flannel nightgown, thick socks, and curled under a blanket to eat pizza. She leafed through the book as the TV buzzed with virtual parties for singletons and stay-at-homes.

'Tales' had been commissioned by King Alfredo II of Westvalia. 'Glass Slippers' was about Alfredo's meeting with a lady, named Annette, when he was Crown Prince. Annette finished her pizza as the clock ticked 11.

She knew Alfredo's reputation. He was a notorious rake, with many lovers, both men and women. His Government insisted he marry and provide heirs. Alfredo agreed to a ball on New Year's Eve, 1820, to meet eligible ladies, for without heirs his throne and country would be annexed to Eastvalia. His brother's children were removed from the succession because their mother was a minor noblewoman.

'Glass Slippers' said Annette appeared in the capital, Covington, in Fall, disoriented and speaking a strange dialect of English. She saved Prince Alfredo's life when he was choking, after which he rewarded her by making her lady-in-lady to his mother, Queen Zora. 

The night of the ball Alfredo danced with Annette to much gossip, but she was ill and fainted. In the morning she was gone. Alfredo said she would return one day. He never married. He ended his days with his lover, Karl, a Czech prince, according to the history.

Annette yawned as the clock struck midnight. She yawned and slept.

"Wake up, miss! You can't sleep here."

A police officer tapped her with a staff. "Ohhh," she moaned, "I'm so sleepy." She was in a narrow alley, people in neat work clothes, and a policeman in a uniform she didn't recognize. She still wore her flannel nightgown, and the blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

"Where am I?"

"Covington, miss. Move along."

"Covington?"

"Covington, Westvalia."

She rubbed her head. "I must be dreaming." She got slowly to her feet, stiff from curling up on the cold ground. Women in bonnets and men in work clothes rushed up and down the streets as the sun rose. Horses and wagons creaked on the streets and men pushed carts, hawking their goods. A man went from streetlight to streetlight putting out gas lamps.

"I can't be here. Where is here?"

"Covington, Westvalia, October 2, 1820. Are you drunk?" The officer grabbed her arm. "Did you jump off a ship from the port? I'll have to arrest you."

Annette jumped back as a man in chef's clothes came out from a door behind them.

"What's going on, Officer?"

"This woman is drunk and disorderly."

"I'm not!"

The plump chef looked her over. "I need more kitchen help and waitresses. Leave her with me. If she causes any more trouble, I'll send my boy to have you arrest her."

"What?" Annette asked.

After some discussion, Annette admitting she was homeless and without a job, agreed to work for the chef and followed him into the cafe.