Two Uses of a Glass Slipper

Why is there so much stuff I could have edited ((Please excuse me if I have weird typos

________________________________________________________________________________

Cinderella stared at her bloodied slipper. The glass slipper she wore to the first ball where she met her prince. It was all magical then. 

A happily ever after.
She hobbled up on her feet and slowly walked toward the castle. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about what had happened a few minutes ago. Her pounding heart still was not yet soothed.

Ella's eyes swept over the long corridors leading to another set of unknown rooms in the castle. Her ears were still ringing from the party below. She wandered around aimlessly, wondering if the soon-to-be king had noticed that she had disappeared. He seemed to be distant lately. Colder. 

So much had changed since the wedding two years ago, in 1856. She had finally gotten out of that suffocating place thanks to her Prince Charming.
But wound up in another one. This time, there were no mice to befriend. She only had one person to rely on–the wrenched boy. Pardon, the Prince.  

At first, Cinderella didn't notice the prince's condescending attitude toward her. Or maybe she did– and ignored it–no, tried to.

"What do you mean you're sick? You better not come closer." Cinderella had watched as he walked away, not even asking if she needed anything, if she needed a doctor. Wasn't those things people did for their wives?

"Sorry, I was... busy. We can spend time, later." But it had been ages since they had any time alone.

"Where are you going?" A tight hand clenched her wrist, leaving a red handprint on her skin. He was just worried. She had to be careful, after all. But was that really his business? But he cares, yes, he cares! That was all she needed to know.

Ella always thought this was true love. Ha! She was nothing but a foolish girl, with stupid fantasies. Her life was a fairytale of the century!–she thought, anyways. See, a prince saves the princess, and takes her away to a safe, lovely castle, away from harm. They get married and live happily ever after.
What a cliché line.

But enough of that- she is a queen; a queen shall be engaging in a party like this. The snobbish–well, not all of them are, maybe– nobles will gossip amongst themselves. 'The prince should have never married that grubby commoner. She doesn't even know how to attend a party!'
Really, she can't bear that. What an embarrassment it would be!

While conversing with other nobilities–those that are 'not snobbish,' Ella carefully made her way up to her fairy godmother. The latter was, surprisingly, at the party. She looked just like when Ella had seen her for the first time.
Taking in her features, Ella noticed more greying hair. But the fairy's eyes–they never seemed old. Drooping moss-green eyes that sparkled like stars. And her dimples were still there too. Ella always thought the fairy grandmother had the most beautiful smile.
How she loved it when people stayed the same.

Grinning, Ella tapped the fairy's shoulder. "Ella! It has been a long time since I last saw you!"

The fairy grandmother hugged her, "It's excellent to see you, my dear."

Ella sank into her hug; how long had it been since she had felt warm touch? "It's nice to see you too."

Pulling away, she attempted a smile, saying, "I'm enchanted being here, thanks to you. The prince is very good to me. And the royal family, too, of course."

The fairy godmother grinned, satisfied. She noticed Ella's ruffled hair from the hug and handed her a mirror. Taking it in her hands, Cinderella noticed the prince's reflection, far behind her. She whipped her head around.
There he was, laughing without care towards the world. With a girl next to him. Doesn't he look happy, giggling with a little girl that came out of nowhere? She must admit, the girl is, well, pretty. Ginger hair, shining blue eyes, as one could call her–a beauty. Well, beauty or not, doesn't he have any shame?

Had he ever laughed with her like that? He hadn't even laughed like that on their wedding day!
The blue-eyed girl gave the prince a coy smile, leaning closer to him. Cinderella forcefully turned back around, holding the mirror up again.

As she angrily tried to fix her hair, a thousand thoughts rushed past her as Cinderella's lips trembled. Despite her attempts, her hair was increasingly getting messier. Her hands shook violently and fumbled around her bun.
A scorching fire began to burn slowly over her chest. Cinderella tore her hands from her hair and turned around. This is a good enough reason to confront him, no? Cinderella lurched forwards.

She began to stalk deeper into the party grounds. Had he even talked to her once this evening? Today, even? No, but there he was, talking to this young lady like he isn't married!
She shoved past a young couple. Oh, how she envied them. Endless love, just plain love, even; was that so much to ask? 

She reached where a few of the nobles were playing chess. A man with wax ridiculously slathered over his head; moved his white queen towards the black king with a clack of wood. She finally stopped in place right in the center of the party. She could see the prince a few feet away from her.
Checkmate.

Her cheeks were already wet and blotched when she reached the musicians: where the Prince was, laughing with the ginger girl.

She watched as a blonde girl, hair loosely bound on top of her head–hair falling out, crown crooked; go for her left slipper. The glass slipper from that first ball.
Everything was blurry, but her eyes bore through Prince Charming's figure.

Smashing the slipper on a nearby table, she clenched the very slipper that helped the damned prince to find her. Glass shards decorated the grass floor, dragging on her gown. Not like she cared anyway.
She could see his retreating figure, that face she once thought was handsome. The girl was long gone when she saw Cinderella coming towards them. She hadn't noticed.
She'd seen a lot of emotions on his face. Anger, disappointment, disgust– she always had felt those expressions marred his face. A shame, really.
But this?
This was new.
His eyes that once pierced her like daggers, unable to meet her own. Stuttered remarks of excuses, his feet stumbling back.
Where are you going?
Aww, she gets it now, she really does–the prince is scared!
What a dramatic change. A good one, it is too.
Cinderella let out a bitter laugh, grip tightening on the broken half of the slipper in her hand.
A stray tear rolled down her cheek. And another..then another. A rainfall was starting in her eyes. Her mouth was in the midst of laughter.
Was that all it took to make her feel better? She scowled, shaking away her tears as her eyes narrowed. She ran a thumb over the jagged part where she had snapped the slipper off.
Blood stained her punctured glove. It was like when she had wine all over her glove once.

That would be enough.

She raised her hand, a glint in her eye.
Cinderella had given him everything; her trust, her attention, her hand in marriage, her life.
Is it so wrong for her to have his too? Especially when he just proved it was nothing.

Carving the prince's expression on her mind one last time, she raised her arm–

"–Ella?"
The fairy godmother yanked the hand mirror from her hand. "My apologies, I gave you the wrong mirror."
Cinderella trembled, suddenly cold. Her head ached, making her dazed. "This one has an enchantment on it; it shows your greatest desire." The fairy hurriedly explained. She didn't seem to meet Cinderella's eye. Cinderella stiffened. Her muddled head slowly processed the information. She gasped, suddenly filled with horror.

Cinderella's eyes darted from the mirror in the fairy godmother's hands to the prince, alive and well–and still with that girl, and back to the mirror again. She stumbled back, images flashing in her mind, then ran deep into the empty garden. She gaped for air; chest heaving.

Stabbing the prince with her slipper? That–her desire? Oh, that was just the spur of the moment, she would never do that–she was just rather..upset. Jealous. She had a valid reason to be jealous; what husband in their right mind would frolic with a lass so publicly? It's enough to make one go out of their mind!

Trying to ignore the lingering thought of how she enjoyed seeing the image of fear in his eyes, she hurried away to the back gates.

With a crack of broken glass, she buckled as her glass slipper broke under her. Cinderella tripped and fell, reducing her into a heap on the wet, grassy floor. Hands shaking, she held up her broken slipper. 

________________________________________________________________________________

Dun Dun DUnnnnnn