CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: The Pumpkin Carriage

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As the King's Festival drew nearer and the rainy November days turned into frosty December nights, Cynthia got more and more nervous about the ball. She had taken to pacing around her room at the bed-and-breakfast, looking pale and distraught.

"But you were so excited when we bought your dress!" I said one morning, exactly a week before the party. "And you've been doing so well with the going outdoors thing."

"I know, but now it feels real. There are only seven days before I meet Prince Christopher." She gnawed at her fingernails. "I need to clean something, Noelle. Quick, give me a dish rag, some silver, anything. Why is everything so spotless around here?!"

"Cynthia, sit down and breathe." I pushed her into a chair and fanned her with the room menu. Did this bode ill for the ball? What would I do if she fainted in front of the prince?

Her anxiety waxed and waned over the next few days. It was yet another thing I had to deal with along with all of the other preparations for the big night, not to mention my guilt and hurt and confusion over what had happened with Kit last week.

Had I overreacted? After all, the princess was a beautiful girl. Everyone liked to look at her. Admiring a pretty face wasn't a crime.

But Kit had barely even glanced at me. And shouldn't he have? Wasn't I the girl he had kissed, the one he said he liked?

As I brushed aside Cynthia's hair so she could admire her new earrings, I wondered if it would always be this way, being a fairy godmother. Never the one to shine, never the one who made the wishes. Always the one to step aside so that everyone could look at the princess.

And yet I couldn't hate Cynthia, not when she turned to hug me. "I'll never forget what you've done for me, Noelle," she said softly. "You're the truest friend I've ever had."

I hugged her back and tried to push aside all thoughts of Kit. It was not a time to be selfish and self-pitying, not when there was a ball to plan for, a princess to marry off, and a trainer to send to the House of Godmothers.

"I made a list of everything you'll need. Here it is: jewelry, makeup, dress, and, last but not least, shoes." I pulled the glass slippers out of my bag and handed them to Cynthia, whose jaw dropped as she held them up to the light.

"They're beautiful," she breathed, but when she tried them on, they were too big. She slipped and slid as she walked across the room. "Can we stuff something in the toes, maybe?"

"No good. People will see it." I chewed on my lower lip, thinking.

I considered melting the shoes again to see if I could shrink them, but I didn't want to ruin our handiwork. Then an idea came to me - sandpaper. From the kit Mom had given me, I took two slivers of sandpaper, wrapped them with cotton, and lined the slippers with them, which seemed to do the trick.

As the days went by, I grew more confident that I had thought of everything, from pins for wardrobe malfunctions to pre-wetted handkerchiefs for touch-ups.

But then, one day in the village, I overheard a conversation that rang a bell in my head. I stopped so suddenly that Cynthia bumped into me.

"Oh, no," I said. "I forgot about your transportation."

She shrugged. "That's all right."

"No, it's not," I said, groaning. "The palace is too far for you to walk there in glass slippers. We need a carriage."

But I had my doubts as to whether we'd be able to find one, and it turned out I was right. The whole kingdom was packed with tourists, not to mention all of the princesses come from afar to try and bag the prince like a Christmas turkey. Every last vehicle, it seemed, had been reserved.

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