Dearest Cinderella Read Free Page B

hand in his to comfort her and
whispered so that only she could hear it. The servants turned their
faces away to give them privacy.
    "I will try harder, I promise."
She patted his hand over her own and smiled up at him.
    "I love you dearly my son."
    "And I you."
    "Your father is holding a ball
in your honor to mark your birthday, he will invite every eligible
female in the country and royalty from others. I expect you to
choose a bride."
    "Mother-"
    "Please Marcus, for me." He
sighed deeply and leaned against the back of the couch and
said,
    "I will consider it."

    CHAPTER
    THREE

    There were very little things in
life that surprised Cinderella, granted, the constant religion of
her day left little room for surprises. Welcome or otherwise. What
did surprise her, however, came in the morning. On her way to the
oak tree, diary in hand, prepared to bury the book under another
tree, she intercepted the mail upon its way to the mailbox. She
thanked the man, handing him a shilling and returned to the house
to deposit the letters on the bannister. As she ascended the steps
she read through the letters until she paused at one addressed to
herself. How could it be? She asked herself as she opened the
envelope and slipped a small ornately decorated and expensive
looking sheet of paper out. Her eyes scanned the words excitedly as
she read;
    You are cordially invited to
attend the Kings ball in celebration of Prince Marcus' twenty-sixth
birthday .
    It was to be held at the palace
and looked to be a very grand affair indeed. The prospect of
dancing in a beautiful dress among all the lords of the land filled
Cinderella with such excitement and joy that she almost forgot for
a second the complication her family would create. After she'd left
the rest of the correspondence inside, Cinderella departed, diary
and invitation in hand, in a very good mood. She reached the tree
and opened the envelope hesitantly, still expecting to find only
her own words. She was mistaken again. Cursive filled the rest of
the page,
    I'm sure they justly deserved
the illustration. I can only hope that I never do anything bad
enough to warrant my own drawing. You may call me Jon, might I
enquire after your own name though I know it would not be entirely
proper, but what part of our correspondence is? My mother has
recently made it clear to me that I do not interact with people the
way I ought. I apologise again for looking through your journal,
might we turn another leaf, as they say?
    Cinderella read over it
cautiously, he almost sounded as if he wanted to start a friendship
with her. It simultaneously confused and excited Cinderella. For
she couldn't understand why he would wish to befriend a complete
stranger, but the prospect of having a friend was one she hadn't
hoped for since childhood. As she thought on her reply she walked
to a nearby tree, dug a small trench and deposited her diary in the
hope that nobody would ever accidentally stumble upon it again. She
walked back over to the tree and sat by the hole, turning the page
over, and began.
    Hello Jon, you may call me
Cinderella. I have given your proposal some thought and I accept.
How, may I ask, do you fail to interact with others properly? I
assume you do not begin every friendship by reading the other
person's diary. Shall I begin our rapport with some type of innate
chatter that I'm sure must be traditional somehow? Let me begin
with saying, I am in the best of moods today. I am sure you will
have received one too, an invitation to the King's ball. Now, I
will encourage your reply by asking, do you mean to attend? I hope
to go, if my family allows it. Now, I suppose I shall have to wait
until you see fit to respond.
    Tomorrow came and there was
another missive...
    I may be attending the ball.
Though I am not quite certain, as of yet. Do you attend in the hope
of meeting the Prince and falling in love? If so I confess myself
disappointed. I had the impression of you being a rational young
lady. Many