ANYONE COULD SEE IT WAS A MAGIC SLIPPER

Zawadi waited until the very end of the line. Until the king, with his magic repelling sword, had escorted in an unfortunate young lady and left Azize to the last few women. She had watched women of all ages, sizes, and personalities approach the king and his son, and either pass their test or fail. Wasn’t it intriguing what magic did when its creators did not pay enough heed to guide it? She’d given Asha magic for five hours, but that girl hungered so wildly for the power that she managed to keep her magical creations past their hour of expiration. Those slippers should be steadily fading in power and leaving this world, but every skin they touched fed power into the pair, so they remained.

She’d watched Zuberi’s first wife play tug-o-war with the young prince trying to control the slippers. Neither of them aware that while they were urging the shoes, their’s were not the only wills affecting it. Every woman whose foot touched the shoe left a bit of their own desire behind.

And the one that had most intrigued Zawadi was Zuberi’s eldest. Everything about that girl felt like her father in ways that Asha did not. Though Asha surely had his callousness and wonder, which looked so lovely, but cut so deep. But his eldest—her foot had fit in the slipper despite her being shouting out that it wanted nothing to do with the shoe, that she wanted to shatter the beads apart and be free—the slipper ignored her.

True, her mother was one of an iron will and was fighting to see it fit. And the prince’s momentary desire had effected the shoe as well. But it was as though the magic couldn’t touch her. And it was something Zawadi had already been feeling from her.

She was so angry and self-loathing that even Zawadi couldn’t find a punishment that would take from her what she already denied herself.

It was a challenge. But there was nothing keeping Zawadi alive but this quest. They would all be punished. And his eldest would be stopped before she as well decimated an entire people.

The prince was ready to turn inside by half past six. Tired and sweaty and so self-pitying that he felt his day of judging his female citizens was a torture. He had no idea. Zawadi approached the young man, in child form, in sweet Kiwi's form. Zawadi tugged at his tunic.

“You forgot me.”

Azize faced her and laughed, full of amusement and pity. Too often, Zawadi saw men who thought themselves superior because they did not see another’s worth. Size, gender, age, nation, they found so many reasons to look on another being and hold themselves higher. He would be his father’s son if he didn’t learn better soon. Enzi’s sort of power had a twisted appeal for frightened little boys.

“You may come in,” Azize said in a tone he thought generous.

“I have to try it on first. The king said,” Zawadi persisted. She didn’t break rules lightly. Already she was bending her quest, granting Asha the power for a second time. It wasn’t how Zawadi had envisioned that girl suffering. She’d expected to watch her hunger for that magic for the rest of her days, slowly unraveling as it ate up any control she had with passions far stronger than her human form could contain.

Each time Asha took in the magic, she shortened her life. And Zawadi was giving it, because the moment seemed to call for it, because the magic seemed to want it, and because— Zawadi wanted her to figure it out! She wanted Asha to know she was being punished. And that girl was still too consumingly confident to see the threat.

“Well I am the prince and I say—“

“You don’t think I can fit it, do you?” Zawadi asked disdainfully.

Zawadi walked around him and hopped lightly onto the throne. She held out her already bare foot. “I don’t cheat. Either you want me inside or you do not. Slipper please.”

Azize laughed and knelt before her. She could feel his amusement softening the beads of the shoe, pulling them tighter. He raised the slipper to her foot and watched in open-mouthed wonder as it glowed bright and shifted, shrinking until it was the perfect size for her tiny foot.

“Anyone could see it was a magic slipper,” Zawadi said smugly. “It lets in the people you like.”

Zawadi removed the slipper with her own hands. The prince was too flabbergasted to do anything but watch. She hopped from the throne and stared at him expectantly.

“You shall save me two dances,” Zawadi informed him pertly. “Once you’ve bathed.” She turned on heel and marched away regally, instructing over her shoulder, “come find me, soon.”

She could feel him startle and smiled to herself as she walked into the palace.