After the hellish drive was over, we finally managed to extract ourselves from that tin can of a carriage. I prayed to God I didn't look how I felt, which was like dying.

  "It's starting, let's go," Mother commanded.

  "I need a moment, Mother," I wheezed. I felt sick from the ride, unable to breathe in this corset, and aching all over.

  "Me too!" cried Anastasia. "The carriage ride was awful, Mother! Who taught that stupid driver how to drive, anyway?" The driver was standing barely two meters from her.

  "Rest, but only for a moment," Mother said. "They will want to introduce us to the court soon."

  But then we saw more and more carriages arriving. And more and more eligible ladies pouring out of them. I wanted to scream at them that there were quite enough of you! There was only one prince, after all!

  But they just kept coming, and what was worse, not all of them looked terribly ugly. Not beautiful like Cinderella in that cursed dress, but still.

  As I looked at the dozens upon dozens of ladies, understanding started sinking in. The competition was too fierce.

  I hadn't pictured it like this. From Mother, we gathered there would be some competition, but if we did our cute best, we might have a shot.

  But looking at the reality of it, Cinderella or not, if I was being honest with myself, I didn't stand a chance of distinguishing myself from the herd.

  And if that was the case, I suffered this horrid dress and hellish ride for absolutely nothing! Damn, but I was in a foul mood.

  A single, rotten minute was enough resting for Mother, it seemed.

  "We are going," she declared, already moving. "It would look bad if we were the last to arrive."

  We followed. The entrance of the palace was grand. We walked up a giant set of stairs, and at the top was a huge corridor, filled with rows of stoic guards standing at attention in stiff-collared uniforms like lead soldiers.

  And I thought that maybe, if I tried hard enough, maybe squeezed my eyes shut a little bit, I could picture myself walking alone here—not as one of many ladies in a cattle horde, but alone, like a princess walking through the royal palace to meet her prince.

  A princess who, for some reason, couldn't get enough air because of this god-awful dress! It wasn't working. I was in a bad mood. The worst.

  Curse you, Cinderella. Curse you, Mother. Curse you, dress, and curse you, carriage ride. Curse you, hundreds of prettier-than-me ladies. And most of all, curse you, Prince! I hope you'll be happy with one of those... shameless trollops.

  After the corridor came another set of giant stairs, larger than the last. Then we spilled into the huge ballroom. We had to stand there, crowded like cattle with all the others.

  I was already sweaty from the stairs; now I had to stand with other sweaty ladies and smell them all, as if my misery wasn't enough.

  Then came the prince. He just stood there in front of us. Handsome, yes, but I wasn't in the mood for a handsome prince anymore. The prince himself looked bored out of his mind as he looked us over. It doesn't feel good when someone looks at you with that lazy, detached gaze. Even if he was bored with all the ladies.

  Well, I don't like you either.

  I looked to my right to see Anastasia practically bouncing with excitement, wearing a silly, stupid smile on her cow face. "It's him," she whispered. "The prince! Oh, but he is handsome! I could die!"

  Please do.

  Then the stoic page seemed to stir to life. It was finally time to present ourselves to His Most Serene, and Utterly Bored Majesty. It wasn't like he was going to remember our names anyway.

  "The Princess Fredrica Eugenie de la Fontaine," announced the page. Fredrica had a better face than me, a better dress, a better title, and as she walked, I couldn't help but notice, a better figure. She was the first, and I was already out of my league. She curtsied to the prince, and the prince bowed back. He still looked bored as hell. What was he expecting? A goddess?

  "Mademoiselle Augustina Dubois," continued the page, "the daughter of General Pierre Dubois." She was an ugly sort. Same bow from the prince, same blank expression. Oh, I think I noticed anger on her face; she was ticked off at being looked at with such boredom, too. Yes, I wasn’t suffering alone today.

  But my sister kept up that little excited jumping. I wanted to hit her! What, did she think the prince would suddenly look at her stupid cow face with gleaming eyes and want to marry her right then and there? Yes, I was sure that exact thought had crossed her mind.

  "Mademoiselle Leanora Mercedes de la Tour, daughter of Colonel and Madam de la Tour." She curtsied, the prince bowed, and then… he yawned! He actually yawned! And she was a pretty girl, too!

  I wanted to laugh. What was this event, anyway? We were herded here just to be ignored, yawned at, and humiliated by this awful, childish, bored, stupid, ugly… well, I couldn't lie, he was handsome… but probably a horrible person!

  Curse that ball invitation letter that led us to this moment.

  "The Mademoiselles Drizella and Anastasia Tremaine, daughters of Lady Tremaine."

  Finally, a chance to move. I arranged my dress, managed to plaster a smile over my horrible mood, and then my stupid sister stepped on my hem! A stupid cow, she was!

  We both walked to the prince, and I didn't miss it: when he saw us, he rolled his eyes! He absolutely, blasted well did it. It was like the yawn—humiliating! I wanted to punch his handsome face right then and there.

  But everyone was watching, so I needed to act. I smiled and curtsied with perfect manners and etiquette. He offered his empty, hollow bow back, and then… something in his face suddenly changed.

  The boredom seemed to vanish! Was he… against all odds, seeing something in me? I doubted it, but I kept my smile in place anyway.

  But then he just… walked! Right between me and Anastasia. I looked to see what had caught his attention, and it was another girl, standing far off. He walked over to her with absolute purpose!

  It was rejection. Complete, humiliating rejection. It was expected, of course, as sure as the sunrise and the moon, but it still hurt.

  But my curiosity was stronger than my misery. Who was she? Who managed to snap the Prince of Boredom from his sleepy state? Was she some ethereal goddess descended from the heavens just to perform this miracle?

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  I could see her from afar. It was hard to make out details, but from here at least, she looked like absolute perfection. Yet, she seemed somewhat lost. Now that I thought about it, why wasn't she lined up with the rest of us? She wasn't announced by the page. Was this some smart-ass tactic to seduce princes?

  I kept watching. He walked straight up to her, perfectly confident. She still looked lost, but he gently caught her hand for attention. When she turned around, he bowed—but not like any of the empty bows he'd done today. It was a true, sincere bow of deep respect. Then, he took her hand straightaway and kissed it.

  I heard gasps of annoyance from the other girls. "Ah!" I heard Anastasia gasp, joined by a chorus of irritated sighs from the girls around me.

  I took a tiny bit of pleasure in it; at least the other girls' dreams of winning the prince were finally crashing down, too.

  Then they walked hand-in-hand to the center of the room. Music started. A waltz. The lights dimmed. They... they were dancing!

  The contrast between my own miserable feelings and this joke of a romantic waltz was utterly sickening. I felt like I was watching a stage play. There was surely no connection between us girls, standing here bowing to a sleepy prince, and this storybook romance unfolding before us.

  But they danced, just the two of them, and they were infuriatingly good, too! As they spun closer, I tried to get a better look at her.

  "But who is she, Mother?" asked Anastasia. All these tall, annoying people were blocking my view!

  "Do we know her?" I asked, forcing the words out of my mouth. I desperately wanted not to know her.

  "Well, the Prince certainly seems to," my sister said with a jealous huff. "But I know I've never seen her."

  I tried to crouch and look between the crowd's shoulders to catch a view. That gave me a split second to see... Wait, she actually looked like... no, no, no, no. That didn't make any sense whatsoever.

  "Nor I," said Mother. "But she certainly is—" Mother suddenly stopped, narrowing her eyes in a suspicious manner. "But wait... there is something familiar about her."

  Mother then tried to sneak through the crowd to follow them as the two lovebirds danced away. But then I saw the pompous Grand Duke draw the heavy curtains right in Mother's surprised face, blocking her path entirely. I couldn't help but chuckle at that.

  Why was Mother so interested? Had she also seen the similarity between the mystery girl and... her? Silly Mother.

  Even if Cinderella was somewhat similar to her in features, she didn't have that gorgeous dress. Cinderella had miraculously hidden one nice dress, and we had ruined it beyond repair. I knew a thing or two about garments; this mysterious girl's piece was something else entirely. It cost a fortune. We couldn’t afford it by a long shot, let alone Cinderella.

  And besides, we got here by a fast horse carriage. It was physically impossible for Cinderella to have arrived here on foot by now.

  But then a thought passed through my brain, whispering, "You know there isn't anyone else who is quite so beautiful." That thought made me shiver.

  Stop with the silly thoughts, I told myself. It isn't possible, and you've been through enough today. This place... oh, it's getting to me. I need to sit down.

  We walked over to a table, and immediately, Mother began pointing at every lady and nobleman we saw, explaining who they were, why they were horrible people, and what the latest gossip about them was. Anastasia was bright-eyed and interested. Didn't the prince rejection hurt her even a little?

  "And why are you so gloomy, Drizella?" asked Mother.

  "Well, we came here for a chance with the prince," I explained the obvious. "And unless I'm missing something, that's not going to happen."

  "I suppose you're right," Mother said quietly, giving Anastasia and me a measured look. "Perhaps it was a bit silly of me to think either of you actually had a chance. Apologies."

  No matter what mood I was in, Mother always knew exactly how to make me feel worse.

  "Can we go home already?" I pleaded.

  "Oh, stop your whining," scolded Mother. "We cannot leave before midnight. It would be a breach of etiquette."

  "I like it!" said Anastasia happily. "When I'm in the palace, I feel like a princess!"

  "Princess of cows," I muttered.

  "What did you say? You ugly—"

  "Stop it!" Mother hissed. "We are still at a royal ball; behave yourselves! Prince or not, remember that some of the kingdom's most important men are here. You must be on your best behavior, mingle, and leave a good impression. There are plenty of other eligible, wealthy noblemen here besides the prince."

  "But they all look old, Mother," complained Anastasia.

  "Oh, enough of this," Mother sighed. "I am going to chat with the Countess and exchange the latest gossip." She turned back to us and added in her most frigid, icy tone, "Do not embarrass me."

  "I'm going to try the refreshments!" said Anastasia happily, wandering off toward the lavish banquet table.

  I had no mood for food, making acquaintances, or gossiping. I just sat, sinking and drowning deeper and deeper into my black mood, waiting for the time to pass.

  Time crawled by slowly, and I began to feel sleepy. But then I heard it, my salvation—the tolling of the midnight bell! Finally, this nightmare would end.

  I waited for Mother to finish clucking with her old cronies, but then I heard shouts, followed by a sudden wave of murmured commotion rippling through the hall.

  I stood up to look and saw a flock of ladies stop what they were doing to step toward someone running. Yes... it was the prince. There were so many ladies they totally blocked his path, but he seemed fiercely distressed, desperately trying to push past them.

  I looked in the direction he was staring, and then I saw her! His dream girl, and she was... running away! She, too, looked highly distressed.

  What, had they already gotten into a fight?! I couldn't believe it; they were at the peak of romance not a moment ago! But... he clearly wanted her back. What on earth did he say to her that made her run away? And from a royal prince, no less!

  I was tired and miserable, yes, but I was dying to know the drama! The Grand Duke also seemed to take note of her fleeing and, for some reason, decided to chase after her as well. That was weird; a lover's quarrel was none of his business.

  I decided to follow. She ran fast! The Duke, huffing after her, struggled to keep up. She wasn't crying or anything, but she looked genuinely... terrified. Like she was escaping a monster. What did that awful prince do to her?!

  As I reached the grand staircase, I saw her sprinting down it. And while she was at it, one of her slippers slipped right off her foot.

  It looked like... a glass slipper. A beautifully crafted piece; I could tell even from that distance it was wildly expensive. But... instead of stopping to pick it up, she just kept running. Was she running from the Duke?

  "Mademoiselle! Se?orita!" shouted the Grand Duke after her. "Just a moment!"

  It wasn't making sense anymore. What in the world could make a girl run like that?

  "Guards! Guards!" he then bellowed. "Stop that coach!"

  Guards? Stop her? Was she a criminal now?

  And then... quiet. It seemed she had managed to get away. It was so bizarrely confusing, I tried to make sense of it. I did like mystery novels, after all.

  First, she was all lovey-dovey with the prince. Then she runs away, but the prince chases her, then the Grand Duke chases her, and she’s in such a hurry she doesn't even stop for her expensive shoe. Then the Grand Duke calls for the royal guards to stop her.

  Oh I know! There was actually a simple explanation to it all.

  She seduced the prince in order to get close to him, just so she could steal some rare and expensive royal treasure!

  Yes, I could see it clearly. She probably lured him in, and mid-kiss, asked in a sugary sweet voice if he would show her the royal family diamonds. The enchanted prince, overflowing with blind affection, complied. Then she simply snatched the jewels and vanished under the cover of night! He tried to run after her to catch the thief, but she was faster, and she knew the court ladies would block his path. Clever thief...

  It was actually not unlike a plot in my favorite book, The Scandalous Adventures of Fifi LaRousse. In Volume 3, Fifi travels to the miserable, rain-soaked island of England. She must seduce Lord Archibald—a broad-shouldered Duke with eyes the color of a stormy Thames—to steal the royal treasury from the Tower of London.

  After a passionate night involving a buttered crumpet and a velvet whip, she poisons his tea, loots the vault, and escapes on a stolen carriage, leaving the poor man utterly ruined.

  Yes, it was similar, but... perhaps without the tea poisoning part. And also, the prince hadn’t looked particularly angry while he was chasing her...

  Besides, why would a thief steal the jewels right in front of him instead of slipping away quietly in the shadows?

  Ugh, that was far too much thinking! I’d had quite enough of thinking for one day, anyway.

  "There you are, Drizella," Mother's voice came from behind me. "We are leaving."

  We got back into the carriage and back to our cramped suffering.

  When we finally got home, I ripped off every piece of that cursed dress and threw it to the floor, while Mother gasped at my barbaric behavior.

  I didn't care. I'd had it. Today was absolutely the worst! I crawled into bed, intending to finally end that miserable excuse for a day.

  Before drifting off, I remembered Cinderella running and weeping after we tore her beautiful dress and denied her the ball.

  Was it cruel of us? Perhaps. But what of it? At the very least, I had the comfort of knowing she’d had a perfectly miserable day, too.

  A shoutout for a cool story: