Cinders held out her hand and, after a moment’s consideration, Prince Joderick shook it.

‘I’m Cinderella, but everyone calls me Cinders,’ she said.

‘Why?’ the prince asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Cinders replied. ‘Cinderella is a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?’

‘No one calls me Jodders,’ the prince said, furrowing his brow. ‘And Joderick Jorenson Picklebottom is much worse than Cinderella.’

‘Probably because you’re a prince and I most certainly am not a princess,’ she said. ‘Thank goodness.’

Prince Joderick looked surprised. ‘You don’t want to be a princess?’ he asked.

Cinders shook her head while shovelling a huge brownie into her mouth. ‘No, thank you very much,’ she said. ‘Not if I’d have to live like this. I thought this was going to be a fun party, but everyone looks so miserable. I’d much rather live in my pink cottage in the forest where I can run around in the woods or play with my dog. Although, I have to say, the puddings here are top-notch.’

The prince looked surprised, as if he wasn’t used to people telling him what they really thought, but he rather liked it.

‘I’m sorry,’ Cinders apologised. ‘I always say the wrong thing when I’m nervous.’

‘Don’t be sorry,’ the prince said. ‘And you shouldn’t be nervous – I’m the one who’s hiding under a table after all.’

‘Why are you hiding from everyone?’ Cinders asked. It did seem a little off when she thought about it.

‘My father threw this party so I could choose someone to marry,’ Joderick explained. Cinders almost choked on her chocolate cake. Aggy and Elly would be beside themselves. ‘But I’d much rather be riding my horse or playing video games or baking.’

‘Baking?’ Now he was talking.

‘I made those brownies.’ Prince Joderick nodded at Cinders’s plate. ‘I’m a pretty good baker, but my dad doesn’t like me to do it. He says that’s Cook’s job.’

Cinders considered this for a moment while she chewed another brownie. ‘Controversial thought, but have you ever considered telling your dad to hop it?’ she asked. ‘Because you really shouldn’t waste your time getting married when you could be in the kitchen knocking out another batch of these wonderful things.’

‘No one tells my father what to do,’ Joderick gasped. He marvelled at the brave girl in front of him, currently devouring her third brownie. ‘He’s the king.’

Cinders shrugged. ‘Seems to me you need to learn how to stand up for yourself,’ she said, thinking about her stepmother. It also seemed to her that she and Joderick had a lot in common. ‘You shouldn’t have to do things you don’t want to do.’

‘I think I will have to get married eventually,’ Joderick said. ‘Everyone does, don’t they?’

Cinders shook her head. ‘I don’t think it’s the law, but if you’re dead set on it I’ve got two sisters who would both love to marry you.’

The prince perked up a little. ‘Really? Are they anything like you?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Cinders replied sadly. ‘Not at all.’

For a while, the two new friends carried on eating their cakes in silence.

‘I’m going to have to go back out there in a moment,’ Joderick said, pushing away his empty plate and wiping his face on the sleeve of his jacket. ‘At midnight, I’m supposed to dance with the person I’ve chosen to marry.’

‘Midnight?’ Cinders sat up so quickly she bonked her head on the table above them. ‘It’s almost midnight?’

‘It is,’ he confirmed before adding shyly, ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to dance with me, Cinders?’

‘I’m very sorry, but I have to go.’ Cinders grabbed a couple of extra brownies and tucked them into the pockets of her dress – because all the best dresses have pockets – and scrambled out from underneath the table. ‘It was nice to meet you, Jodders!’

‘Cinders, wait!’ Joderick yelled as Cinders dashed away, only pausing to grab a handful of sausages as she went.

‘Cinders?’ A familiar voice echoed that of the prince.

Cinders froze. Smack bang in front of her were the two biggest powdered wigs and enormous pink gowns with the most ruffles she had seen all night.

Elly.

And Aggy.

‘Excusez-moi,’ Cinders said, putting on a pretend accent and covering her face with her hands. ‘’Ave you seen le prince? I believe ’e is looking for someone to – ’ow do you say? – wed.’

‘Someone to wed?’ Both girls turned away from their stepsister without a second glance and scuttled off to hunt for Prince Joderick.

Cinders breathed out a sigh. Then she bolted out of the ballroom, ran along the hallway and leaped all the way down the marble staircase to find Sparks the footman and her two horse-mice waiting with the crystal carriage. She jumped inside, face first, and her ballgown blew up over her head, displaying her bloomers to the entire kingdom.

‘Home, Sparks,’ she sighed from underneath her skirts as the palace clock began to chime. ‘And don’t spare the horses.’

‘There’s no way we can get home before midnight,’ Sparks replied. Cinders looked up to see his red hair slowly transforming into a pair of silly shaggy ears as the palace clock chimed again. ‘And will you just look at your so-called horses!’

Cinders stuck her head out of the carriage to see their thick braided tails change into long, pink mouse tails.

‘No one will help me if I don’t help myself,’ she whispered, squeezing her hands into fists. ‘I wish we were at home already.’

This time, the magic came quickly. The sparkles showered the coach and, for a moment, everything was a blur. The next thing Cinders knew, her bottom hit the ground with a bump. She was outside her cottage, wearing her rags, one glass slipper on her foot and the other nowhere to be seen. Sparks sat in front of her, happily chewing the sausages she’d grabbed on her way out of the palace. One of her former horse-mice squeaked angrily before running away under the front door of the house.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ she said, picking herself up and dusting herself down. ‘Everything’s back to normal.’

‘Not quite everything,’ Sparks said, still scoffing his sausages.

Cinders had turned two mice into horses, but only one had turned back into a mouse. The other stood in front of her, still very much a horse, but with shiny whiskers and a long pink tail.

‘Oh,’ Cinders said.

‘Squeak,’ replied the horse-mouse.