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Once upon a time, in a kingdom not far from here, there lived a beautiful young girl who was kind and sweet, honest and caring. She was the love of her mother’s heart, and her father’s pride and joy. Her hair was the color of wheat, her eyes the color of the seas, and her voice was that of an angel’s sweetly singing all day long. The girl never met a stranger and even befriended the little woodland creatures that lived in the forest surrounding her home. All who knew her loved her and reveled in her presence.
One day, her mother grew ill and passed in the night. Distraught and weary, and desiring a mother to care for his daughter, the girl’s father married again. Her step-mother was strict, yet fair, and her step-siblings were as close as real sisters. A few years passed, and the young girl grew into a young woman. Her beauty far surpassed that of her step-sisters—the spoiled young women who’d begun to dislike her.
Again, disaster struck. The young lady’s father passed away, leaving her alone with her step-family. Immediately, her step-mother grew strict beyond reason and forced the young woman into a life of servitude. She was locked away in the attic, fed scraps, and forced to cook and clean from sunrise to sunset. Her step-sisters were so jealous of her beauty, they pulled her hair and scratched at her face, teased and taunted her until she wept, and forced her to wear worn and tattered clothing.
One day, the King announced throughout the land that there would be a festival to celebrate his son’s return from battle. All eligible maidens were to attend by strict command. The young woman’s step-mother promised she could join if her chores were completed, but her list was long and burdensome. However, she persevered and finished her work, only to have her dress ruined by her horrid step-sisters. The birds and animals in the forest had not forgotten the girl’s kindness toward them. They wove a fabric of the most delicate gold and silk and dropped it on their friend, making a beautiful gown. Her shoes were cast of gold and silver, threaded with silk.
She attended the festival and met the handsome prince who immediately fell in love with her. When the hour grew late, she knew she must go home before her family discovered she was missing. When she ran from the prince, he called out for her, but she did not turn back. He followed her, but she escaped, leaving behind one golden slipper.
The prince was distraught and ordered his footmen to find the maiden whose foot fit the slipper, and when she was discovered, they were to bring her to him so that he could marry her. The footmen roamed the village, door to door until they arrived at the young woman’s cottage. Her step-mother locked her in the attic so that she would not be found.
When the slipper did not fit the elder sister’s foot, she cut off her own toe to force it on. As the slipper filled with blood, the footman was horrified and knew the woman was not the owner of the delicate shoe. When the slipper did not fit the younger step-sister, she cut off a piece of her heel. Again, the footman knew she was not the owner of the slipper, as it again filled with blood. Just when the footman had given up hope, the poor servant woman escaped from the attic and ran down the stairs to stop his retreat.
When the young woman’s old wooden shoe was removed, the golden slipper was placed upon her foot. It was a perfect fit, and the prince sang with joy for he had found his true bride. The woman married her prince, and her pigeon friends pecked out the eyes of her step-sisters, cursing them with blindness for their wickedness toward their beloved friend—their Cinderella.
Calla Benson closed the tattered book of fairy tales with a heavy heart. She knew well how the Monroe sisters suffered, but now there was hope for them.
“I suppose we should make arrangements and be on our way to Philadelphia,” Ely said, looking to Calla.
“I’ll care for Hans. I’ll protect him as if he were my own, Ely. You know I will,” she replied to her brother’s questioning gaze.
A weight lifted from Ely’s chest. He knew his sister would lay down her own life for his son, and it eased the pain of leaving Hans behind. Ely had no memory of the girls, Sierra and Cecily Monroe, but one of them could be the mother of his child. It baffled him how that was possible. Every one of his siblings had regained their memory, but his had gaps and blurry spaces he’d yet to decipher. He knew he once loved a woman, but who she was and where she’d gone he had no clue. In fairness, none of them remembered the Monroe sisters, but for Ely, it was more than a simple forgotten acquaintance. The empty spaces that the mother of his child should have occupied, melded with other memories, fading them until he wasn’t sure what was real and what he’d imagined.
“Felix will go along,” Henry said, offering his cousin’s guidance on the long journey.
“That won’t be necessary,” Heidi said, her tone a bit cautious. Ely sensed the tension in her words. He didn’t like it. Anything that could interfere with finding the sisters was out of the question.
“I agree. We fared well enough against Snow. I don’t think we need a babysitter to find two sisters in Philadelphia,” Ely protested.
Henry’s eyes narrowed as he zeroed in on his frustrating brother-in-law, always testing the boundaries of authority—in this case, Henry’s authority over The Royal Guard.
“You did nothing. It was Princess Katharine and her bravery that forced Snow out of the tunnels and directly into the jaws of the courageous Princess Anneliese. Do not mistake their bravery for your own, Prince Eliot. Felix will accompany you to the States. Like it or don’t, it is your reality.”
If Henry weren’t Seline’s husband, Ely would have been beyond annoyed, but he was, and it was Henry’s duty to protect the Saliens at all cost. Ely stood with a frustrated grumble.
“I’m going to tell Hans goodbye, then pack a bag. Let me know when you’re all ready to leave.”
Heidi and Felix shared a look, a strained one that didn’t settle well with Ely but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Brody appeared cool as a cucumber, but Ely doubted the Grimm’s husband knew anything of her past with Felix. He shook his head and left the room to hug his child before going, hopefully, to return with his mother.