No one comforted Cinderella as she sat in the family room, in tears. Now and then, Prince Archibald looked ready to approach her, but her recoiled posture urged him away.

The constables eyed my other two daughters as if they were inhumane. They stood stoic but I could see it, this situation had done its damage.

I prayed Poppy would recover. No, not all princes were this entitled but people of eminence powers rarely heard no.

It was luck he never served in the army. If this was how he handled women in his own homeland....

Wherever that despicable prince disappeared to, I wasn't sure, but his mother was here now, recounting what took place.

"The prince generously came to offer this poor woman his hand in marriage, but her stepmother hid her away."

"Hid her away?" the man said with a gasp.

"Yes. It was quite awful. And look at the rags she wears compared to others. Why, I was sure I saw a very room down in that cellar!"

The officer's expression was grim. "And how was the prince injured—?"

"He fell," Prince Archibald offered. His eyes settled on his mother, daring her to challenge him.

She cleared her throat and affirmed his words, "Yes. He took an awful spill. Please—please do not include that in your report to the king."

"I see. Am I even needed further—?"

"No, no," the woman pronounced, "all is well. It is simply an exciting occasion."

The constable convened with his men then turned his attention to me.

"How are you feeling?" Edmond asked in a whisper as we made our slow journey towards the study.

He had me pinned to the wall lest I fell. "Oh. Just...lovely. Haven't a care in the world. Or a muscle in my body."

"Whatever you do," Edmond said, "allow him to speak to the very end before you drop."

I thought to inquire about his meaning, but we entered the room and he stepped away from me.

The lead officer, finished with the business in the family room, came to the study. He waited for one of his men to close the door before he said, "I'm very sorry to impose on you like this, ma'am. But this is of the utmost importance."

I drew myself up to my full height, a feat that was excruciatingly difficult. "Yes, sir."

He hesitated then said, "It's your husband, ma'am. We believe he's been murdered."

A gasp came from me and I nearly lost power but willed myself upright. I trembled from my fatigue but the look of sympathy I received said the officer read my body language differently.

"What?" I gasped, winded.

"A horse thief confessed," he said. "Some days ago, as your servant rode into town for questioning, he spotted a horse he said belonged to his master. Well, we barely approached before the thief immediately confessed. You see, he happened on a drunk on the highway who dismounted to...relieve himself. He tampered with the saddle then followed behind him as he eventually fell off. His intent was to take the horse but your husband accidentally...broke his neck. I'm very sorry."

I waited for more and when there was none, I took a step forward and immediately swooned to the floor.

The constable caught me. After someone provided me with a chair, I stared at the officer, winded.

"Where are his remains now?"

"That...is much harder to explain, ma'am. A body was found in the river some months back. No one claimed it so he was buried sans what he possessed on him."

He held out a monogrammed handkerchief with Gareth's initials.

"Perhaps an animal dragged the body to the river."

My eyes stayed fixed on those initials for some time before I found the strength to take the cloth.

"He's dead...."

"I'm very sorry."

Other empty condolences came my way, but I didn't—couldn't pick my head up. I lost power sitting there.

The constable excused himself a last time and took his leave.

Once he was gone, the door swung open, and Cinderella rushed in.

"Stepmother! That woman—"

"Hush." I held Cinderella's hand and pulled myself to stand, giving her my chair.

The knock at the door was gentle at least so I bade them entry.

"We will be leaving now," the prince's mother said, her face the very definition of a miserable scowl.

Prince Archibald's eye never left Cinderella. He wore a pleased smile and knelt before her.

For a longtime, he said nothing. Finally, he told her, "I'd given up hope on seeing true kindness for so long. I'm happy that I was able to meet you. I'd like to invite you to stay with us for a time, but...I suppose you would not be interested."

Cinderella clenched her jaw.

He held out both hands and said, "Here."

She waited. "What?"

After he mimed putting something in her hands, he whispered, "Only the truly regal can see it."

The words stole my breath from me; it shocked Cinderella beyond words.

"Wait," I said. When the answer came to me, I affirmed, "You were the one she spoke to at that party months ago."

He gave a soft smile and bowed. "I've visited many parties since in search of her."

My eyes gravitated to Cinderella and she watched me. Was there such a thing as fate? I wanted desperately to believe it. So many mishaps and missteps surrounded us. Was it so awful to wish for something good for once?

I couldn't tell her what to do or how to behave.

Despite my fear and reservation, I called out before the prince could reach the door, "You must take her with you."

Cinderella stood in protest.

The fact that she had nothing to say was all the answer I needed. She genuinely feared the other prince, but not this one. Her hesitation now was something else.

"You don't belong here," I told her. "So leave."

She gasped. "Stepmother. But I'll do my chores better. I'll be better. I'll clean this entire house from top to bottom. Every day." When I didn't answer, she begged, "Please reconsider."

"Leave." My answer came in one breath and my shoulders felt lighter. "This is your only chance to leave. Can't you see that?"

But she stood there, stubborn.

Edmond's hand on the small of my back was the only thing keeping me upright. Whatever was wrong with me, I feared for what would become of her if this was far worse than lightheadedness or stress. My other two daughters could study then go on to proper husbands. At the very worst, they could be governesses themselves. Cinderella...she had nothing more.

"The constable was just here. Do you know what he said?"

Cinderella took a step back, shaking her head as she pleaded for me to stop but I couldn't.

"He said your father has died."

That kept the prince from leaving. He swung his head around and watched us.

Tears formed in Cinderella's eyes, but I knew they weren't for the reasons Prince Archibald expected. As of now, Cinderella was holding me like a string, a string I intended to cut. A string she begged me not to.

"He's gone. And he was a good man but what can I do now?" I asked her.

Her jaw shook as upset won out over her desperation.

"It's easier with less mouths to feed. The best I can do is sell the estate to pay off his debts. And what will happen to you then?"

"This doesn't sound anything like you. Besides, you're so smart and resourceful. There are four of us. And Edmond—"

"Edmond will be sold as well. I need money to educate my actual children."

Cinderella froze.

"Because I'm not your mother."

Those words stole her power of retaliation. Her shoulders droop, heavy from the embarrassment.

"Your mother's gone. Your father's gone. A prince stands at your doorstep and an unwelcoming home looms before you. Only someone truly pathetic would cling to what is not theirs."

A shiver ran through her and she begged, "Please—"

I turned my back to her, and she stepped toward me.

"Miss," the one-eyed prince said, "will you be all right?"

Cinderella came close, but I wouldn't meet her gaze. I was something special to her, I knew. It wasn't arrogance to acknowledge that she valued the motherliness I provided. For her, I wanted to make up for all the time I'd lost. I'd been gentle with her, not for a weakness, but a desire to give her rest. Like any child safely by her mother's side, she knew—felt I would die for her and I would. I nearly committed treason today with my intention to hold a gun to her attackers if I had to.

I loved her.

I loved her but I wasn't good for her. She was no longer a baby, and I was no longer a young mother longing for something I'd lost.

The safety I gave her, I'd die to give her, was late—outdated and...harmful. Now instead of growing out of it and developing into a fine young woman. She was reverting into something unrecognizable. Something that needed me. Something that I couldn't promise could survive without my help.

Something unfair.

Therefore, when she tried to meet my gaze, I used my meager strength to turn away from her, shunning her appeal.

"Miss, I can't leave you here in good conscience," Prince Archibald told her. "I simply couldn't."

He waited, and I waited.

Finally, Cinderella stopped in her efforts. Then she turned to the prince and said, "When I leave this house, it will not be against my will. And it will be alone with my head held high."

She stomped out and I closed my eyes.

A flurry of chatter filled the study in record time. Surprisingly from the cook and even Piglet.

"What has happened? What is going on?" Cook demanded. "She's leaving on her own. With old dresses in her hands. What is going on, ma'am?"

The window afforded me a clear view of Cinderella, a small bag in her grip, marching past her rescuers and out the gate.

Outside, Prince Archibald ran his fingers through his hair, distressed as he spoke to his mother.

"Should I get the carriage and retrieve her?" Edmond asked.

I couldn't answer for fear I'd break down.

When she was born, I hadn't held her. Not even once. I'd been too tired when they'd put her beside me. Too exhausted in the night when I'd awoken and someone held her to me as she fed, and too weak to demand for her return in the morning when I'd awoken to find her gone.

And I'd never held her. But I was holding her now, even now as she looked back and hesitated in leaving. Between remaining in this old house with a bitter widow like myself or galloping off with a prince, my presence held her back.

Deep down, I willed for her to return. It was wrong to, but I'd never see her again, not the same way I had in this short time together.

The royal convoy trotted out, leaving Cinderella in the dust. The carriage was the last thing to pull up next to her. She ignored it. I worried until the one-eyed prince hopped out and sauntered beside her. He didn't try to speak or interfere, optioning to keep her company instead. She was nearly out of sight when she stopped walking.

I gripped Edmond's hand and he tightened his hold for support.

Cinderella looked back at the manor for a long minute before setting her sights on the man at her side once more.

He hesitated but extended his hand to offer her access to the carriage.

Fatigue from my weakened state had me trembling. Truly, I should have sat, I barely had the power to keep my head up, but I dared not look away.

The moment she took hold and allowed him to help her in, a cry left me.

Someone else was taking her away.

Edmond covered my mouth.

Cook stared at me, eyes wild. "What—?"

"Get a doctor, now," Edmond demanded. "Please."

I let out a scream but whatever I'd eaten in the last day came up, stifled by Edmond's hand.

"Please. Find us a doctor!"