Ella Tremaine's Arc

Chapter 8 of 9

Prince William held Ella's hand and waited for her name. She opened her mouth to answer. Then a deep bell rang out across the hall. The clocktower struck midnight. Twelve slow chimes rolled through the great room. Ella's stomach dropped. Her godmother's warning came back to her at once. All the magic would end when the clock finished. The gown, the slippers, the carriage, everything. "I have to go," Ella said. She pulled her hand free. "Wait," the Prince said. "You have told me nothing." She did not stop. She turned and ran through the parting crowd. Dancers stepped back in surprise. Her wide blue skirt swept past them. Behind her, Prince William called out and started after her. At the edge of the floor, Lady Tremaine watched. Her cold eyes tracked the fleeing girl. She took one step forward, still hunting the answer she wanted. Ella reached the tall doors and rushed outside. The second chime rang. The third. She flew down the wide steps into the night air. Her heart pounded against the corseted bodice. Halfway down, her glass slipper slid loose. Her heel came free of it. The slipper stayed behind on the cold stone step. Ella felt the chill of bare skin. She looked back for one breath. The slipper glittered on the step, catching the palace light. The fourth chime rang. She had no time. She left it and ran on, one foot bare. The Prince burst through the doors above her. "Stop!" he called. "Please!" He could not reach her in time. The crowd spilled out behind him, filling the doorway. Ella ran to the carriage. Its golden trim gleamed in the dark. She climbed inside and the horses pulled away. The chimes kept ringing. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. As the carriage rolled from the palace, Ella felt the magic begin to fade. The fine seat grew soft and damp beneath her. A vegetable smell filled the air. The gown lost its shine and thinned back to gray rags against her skin. By the last chime, the carriage was a pumpkin again. Ella sat in the wet grass beside it, her mother's altered dress torn back to servant's cloth. One glass slipper still fit her left foot. It had not changed. It stayed clear and bright, the last piece of the night that survived. Above her, the road of thorns and roses faded from the ground. The pearls winked out one by one. Ella looked toward the far palace lights. On the steps, Prince William bent and picked up the slipper she had lost. He held it in both hands and studied it. The girl was gone. He did not know her name or her home. But he held proof she had been real. Ella pressed her one slipper to her chest and started the long walk home. She had been seen. Now the Prince would search, and her stepmother had watched her run.