Read Cinderella: Ninja Warrior Online
Authors: Maureen McGowan
Tags: #Fairy Tales & Folklore, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adaptations, #Interactive Adventures
Cinderella: Ninja Warrior (5 page)
She stepped back. “I put everything down.”
He walked past her into the foyer, glanced around, and, not spotting any evidence of baggage, looked at her curiously. “Where?”
Caught in her lie, Cinderella squirmed under the gaze of his bright blue eyes. Moths fluttered in her belly, as if she had a light in there to which they were drawn.
Mentally swatting the moths away, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Excuse me, but I expect you came here with a purpose. Now that you’ve barged all the way in, would it be too much to ask what that purpose might be?”
He tipped his head back, as if startled at her question, and she caught another glimpse of his handsome face. Her moths started up again.
He removed his hat and bowed toward her. “My apologies, Miss. This is your home and I’m an intruder. Forgive me.”
“Certainly.” Her cheeks burned. She hadn’t expected him to bow. Men bowed to her stepmother and stepsisters, but not to her. She was nobody.
He straightened and the light struck his smooth cheeks, crisply angled jaw, and blond hair that—now released from under the hat—hung about his face like unruly golden corkscrews.
She sucked in a sharp breath. The messenger, not much older than she, was far more handsome than any man who’d come to their home before. In fact, she hadn’t realized this particular combination of ruggedness and good looks was possible in a human being. But it wasn’t his looks that struck her most; it was his smile and the glint in his eyes as he studied her with what almost looked like admiration.
An entirely new kind of fluttering started up in her belly.
She swallowed hard before saying, “No, it was I who was rude.” It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t open the door to her own house, and he’d borne the brunt of her frustration.
His grin widened, revealing dimples on his cheeks. “Shall we put it behind us?”
“Yes, please.” Relief flooded through her. “How may I help you?”
He cleared his throat. “Other than yourself, how many unmarried young women reside here?”
“I live here with my stepmother and two stepsisters, Agatha and Gwendolyn. Perhaps you have heard of them. They tell me that their beauty is renowned.” She swallowed the shame she felt for poking fun at her stepsisters, even if the messenger might not have sensed her sarcasm. They were pretty, sure, but it was boastful of them to constantly say so.
“Renowned beauties, you say.” His eyes flashed mischief. “I’m afraid I’ve yet had the pleasure to make their acquaintance, but if they’re half as beautiful as you are charming, their beauty must be renowned indeed.” He stepped back, executed another half bow, and Cinderella’s stomach lurched.
She steadied herself and grinned. At least he had a sense of humor.
“Oh.” He clasped his hands together. “What a lovely smile.”
His voice was soft and deep and reminded Cinderella of how she’d felt the one time she’d tasted chocolate. For a moment, she allowed herself to believe she was beautiful like her stepsisters. She wasn’t ugly, she knew that—just plain.
Enough of this,
she thought. He was teasing her and eventually her stepmother would expect her back upstairs; there was no sense risking another punishment. “Beyond false flattery,” she asked, “do you have a purpose for your visit?”
she thought. He was teasing her and eventually her stepmother would expect her back upstairs; there was no sense risking another punishment. “Beyond false flattery,” she asked, “do you have a purpose for your visit?”
His body stiffened, and she felt badly that she’d spoken so sharply.
He reached into the leather satchel that was slung over his shoulder and handed her four envelopes. “The king and queen extend their invitation to you and your family and hope you’ll attend a ball given in the prince’s honor.”
She accepted the envelopes, which were made of fine linen paper with gilded edges. Imagine, all that gold used simply to adorn letters.
“Will you attend?” he asked, another smile spreading on his handsome face.
Oh,
thought Cinderella with a sense of urgency,
he wanted a response now. Should she respond on everyone’s behalf?
“I’m certain my stepsisters will attend.”
thought Cinderella with a sense of urgency,
he wanted a response now. Should she respond on everyone’s behalf?
“I’m certain my stepsisters will attend.”
His smile faded. “Not you?”
Cinderella let out a short burst of laughter, then quickly covered her mouth with her hands.
He looked almost hurt or offended. Ashamed of her outburst, Cinderella cast her eyes down at the floor. He didn’t know his suggestion was ridiculous. In fact, he couldn’t know
why
it was, or he’d turn to stone. “Do you need our responses right now?” she asked. “Because I can call up to my stepsisters and—”
why
it was, or he’d turn to stone. “Do you need our responses right now?” she asked. “Because I can call up to my stepsisters and—”
“That won’t be necessary.” He returned the cap to his head and tucked all his loose golden curls back under it. “But I do hope you’ll come.”
Cinderella stammered. “I-I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“What’s not possible?” her stepmother said from the top of the stairs.
A chill invaded the room and Cinderella backed away from the messenger. There was no need to drag him into whatever horrible punishment her stepmother might have in store. She braced herself.
“Good morning, Madam.” The messenger bowed again, this time toward her stepmother. “I am here to extend invitations from the palace for you and your three daughters.”
Her stepmother smiled, and Cinderella cringed. “For my
three
daughters, you say?”
three
daughters, you say?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I understand there are two other lovely young women at this residence?” The messenger’s expression had changed, and so had his voice. It had grown more formal and distant. It was almost as if he could sense the danger that lurked behind her stepmother’s smile and upturned lips.
Fighting to keep her hand from shaking, Cinderella climbed a few steps and extended the invitations toward her stepmother. She regretted that she hadn’t tucked the fourth one inside her apron. Even if she could never go to the ball, it would’ve been nice to keep the invitation to serve as a reminder that the possibility of something better lay outside the grounds of her home.
Her stepmother took the envelopes and fanned them out. As she watched and waited to see what the woman might do, it felt to Cinderella as if hours passed. She didn’t fear for herself. She was accustomed to her stepmother’s cruelty. It was the young messenger she worried about. He didn’t deserve to be punished for delivering an extra envelope.
Her stepmother raised her head. “Thank you,” she said, her tone making it clear that the messenger was dismissed.
When he bowed a second time to her stepmother, he tossed a quick glance at Cinderella and winked. She raised a hand to her mouth to cover her smile.
As soon as he was out the door, her stepmother dangled one of the invitations between her index finger and thumb, as if it were poisonous. “Well then, Cinderella,” her stepmother said, an evil glint in her eye. “It seems you’ve been invited to the ball. Would you like to attend?”
If you were Cinderella, what would you do?
OPTION A: It must be another of her stepmother’s tricks, but what has she got to lose? And on the long shot that her stepmother’s question isn’t a cruel tease, there’s a chance the prince might choose Cinderella to be his bride—her ticket out of servitude. Besides, marrying a prince sounds dreamy. If you think she should say yes, go to section 2: Crystal Clarity (page 39).
OPTION B: Even if her stepmother is serious, what is there to gain from going to a ball? How boring. Not to mention, even if marrying the prince
would
get Cinderella out from under her stepmother’s spell, she’d be trapped in a royal marriage with all its pretentious customs and ceremonies. When she chooses a husband, it’ll be for love, not money. If you think she should say thanks, but no thanks, go to section 3: Hard Work Rewarded (page 73).
would
get Cinderella out from under her stepmother’s spell, she’d be trapped in a royal marriage with all its pretentious customs and ceremonies. When she chooses a husband, it’ll be for love, not money. If you think she should say thanks, but no thanks, go to section 3: Hard Work Rewarded (page 73).
Section 2
CRYSTAL CLARITY
2
C
inderella tapped her foot on the foyer’s inlaid wood floor, anxious to go into the village for the first time in over a decade and feeling as if she’d entered some kind of parallel universe. One where she was allowed to leave the house anytime she wanted, one where her stepmother was more like an actual mother, one where Cinderella was free.
inderella tapped her foot on the foyer’s inlaid wood floor, anxious to go into the village for the first time in over a decade and feeling as if she’d entered some kind of parallel universe. One where she was allowed to leave the house anytime she wanted, one where her stepmother was more like an actual mother, one where Cinderella was free.
Such a universe was not likely to exist. In this universe, she’d proceed with caution.
Her stepsisters had argued vehemently with their mother about the fabric selection, and their mother finally gave in to her daughters’ wishes. Then her stepmother acted as though it had all been her own idea: if Cinderella selected the fabrics, Gwendolyn and Agatha would have a much greater chance of outshining the other girls and snagging the prince.
If one of her daughters married Prince Tiberius—although her stepmother hadn’t admitted it—it was clear she believed that, as the mother of a princess and future queen, she’d gain more power.
“Gold? You can’t wear gold with your red hair.” Gwendolyn and Agatha bickered as they scrambled down the main stairs.
“You’re just saying that because
you
want to wear gold.” Halfway down, Agatha leaned over the landing’s oak banister. “Cinderella, I look better than Gwenny in gold, right?”
you
want to wear gold.” Halfway down, Agatha leaned over the landing’s oak banister. “Cinderella, I look better than Gwenny in gold, right?”
Anxious to leave before permission was withdrawn, Cinderella said, “Both of you will look beautiful no matter what color you wear. The prince will have a terrible time deciding which sister to marry.”
The two sisters giggled together for a moment and then descended the remainder of the staircase with more decorum. And it was about time they showed more decorum. Now Cinderella needed them to get into their cloaks so they could get out the door. She was still hoping her stepmother wasn’t coming.
“What color do you plan to wear to the ball, Cinderella?” Agatha asked as Cinderella helped her put on her bright blue woolen cloak.
“Oh, I haven’t decided.” Cinderella brushed a piece of lint off her stepsister’s shoulder and then turned to help Gwendolyn with her cloak. She still didn’t believe her stepmother would actually let her go.“I’m just happy to get the opportunity to attend.”
“I guess,” Gwendolyn said, not bothering to bend down as Cinderella reached up on her toes to place the cloak on her much taller stepsister’s shoulders. “I mean, it’s not like you stand a chance at getting a dance with the prince. There will be hundreds of girls at the ball, and maybe only fifteen or twenty open slots on his dance card.”
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