Time suspended, holding her prisoner. She'd never acted so indecently. She stared at him as if he were Eros, come to life, yet he remained still as the statue, itself.
"Nicely handled, my dear."
Startled, Cinderella jumped back, the stick clattering to the floor.
"Ah, there it is. I wondered where I'd misplaced it."
Shamed burned through her. Her deplorable behavior fastened her in place.
"Oh, Fairy Godmother. I-I am, I-" Cinderella took another step back.
The distinct crack of wood had her gasping for air. Oh, no. No, no, no. She'd broken the magic stick. This could not be happening. Hands flew to her flamed cheeks. She waited for Prince to snap out of his frozen reverie. Denounce her very life. But not so much as a flicker of his eyelash fluttered. She dare not move. "Oh. I…I…" Her voice croaked in horror.
Fairy Godmother's dainty palm came up to halt Cinderella mid-sentence. "Did you break it, do you think? My wand, dear? Thank the heavens you found the blasted thing. 'Twould not do for it to fall into nefarious hands." She dipped forward and swiped two distinct pieces from the ground.
"Oh, my," Cinderella whispered. She had definitely broken it. She was too stunned to cry. "I shall-shall-" An audible gulp was impossible to mask. Resigned, she squared her shoulders. 'Twas time to pay the piper. "I shall turn myself in, of course. 'Tis only fitting I should be locked up. The dungeon would be preferable to the gallows, however. Is it possible…you could recommend…I would be most grateful…I…I imagine there are friends in the dungeon. Or, mayhap, Marcel…I am friendly with mice, you see. They are not so terrible, you know. He…is not…so…"
"Cease your prattling, dear child. It is not as dire as all that. Worry naught. I shall handle matters from here. Do you think you can manage your way back?"
Cinderella did not think so, but she could not seem to form a coherent sentence to convey the fact.
"Run along, dear."
"But, I need to tell Essie. He…she…they…" Cinderella flung out her hand unable to put sound to the word 'betrothed.'
"Let us not mention this little incident further, hmm?"
"But-" She choked at Fairy Godmother's stern gaze. "No…no, of course not." She stammered while heat burned her face. She swung on her heel. Then stopped, and asked over her shoulder, "Prince? Sir Arnald?"
"Not to worry, child. These spells never last long. You handled things magnificently, if I must say."
Pressing her luck was not an option. She ran for the cover of darkness-never mind the lack of ladylike etiquette, or the fact that she had no inclination, whatsoever, on how to find her way back. Or the many questions she'd had for her elusive Fairy Godmother, once she'd set eyes on her again.