Glass
by Emily Short (2006)
Genres: Fantasy

The Prince sits awkwardly on the couch, holding his glass slipper and trying to keep it from crushing. Lucinda and Theodora have the ends of the same couch, and they are taking turns seeing who can bend lowest and show off the most cleavage; while the old lady, in her wing chair, carries on about nonsense...

action: %
response: The Prince sits awkwardly on the couch, holding his glass slipper and trying to keep it from crushing. Lucinda and Theodora have the ends of the same couch, and they are taking turns seeing who can bend lowest and show off the most cleavage; while the old lady, in her wing chair, carries on about nonsense. For instance:

"Do tell me about your father's health," she says, leaning toward the Prince. "Is he still ailing? Has the Spanish doctor been able to do anything for him?"

The Prince looks uncomfortable: this line of reason leads directly to the problem of heirs. "I believe so, madam," he replies, with a bit of constraint.
action: About yourself
response: It's hard to have a good look at the moment, but everything feels in order, properly preened, feathers lying as they ought.

"It's so fortunate," says the old lady. "That you're of an age -- that is, that the King has been so blessed with an heir who can follow in his footsteps when the time comes, which we all hope will be--"

Realizing she has led herself into a diplomatic difficulty, she sighs. "God has truly blessed our little kingdom."
action: Inventory
response: You are holding onto your perch with both claws.

"Now I have heard a rumor," says the old lady, pretending that this conversation topic just now occurred to her, rather than being the object of her determined pursuit for the last half hour. "A rumor that you yourself were planning to wed, in the very near future."

Theodora leans closer to the Prince, who tucks his hands more protectively around the slipper.

"There are a great many rumors," he says.
action: You ask the old lady about the rumors
response: You can only squawk things for everyone to hear.

"It's true, you know, that my father threw the ball in the hope that I would-- that is, that it would lead to a greater acquaintance--" The Prince stops again, rattled, and glares down at the small shoe cradled in his hands. "I had not been very attentive to ladies in my youth."

The old lady looks very strange at that remark. "Well-- my dear boy--" she begins. "I am glad you feel comfortable-- that is, I will not mention-- if you feel you prefer--"

He blinks thick girlish lashes, and you see why she is worried. "No, I didn't mean that I have a preference for boys, madam," he remarks, more at his ease now that she is uncomfortable. "Only that I have been very much occupied with other concerns, and not..."

He gestures. The shoe almost slips off its pillow. He catches it just in time.
action: You look at the shoe
response: It is very small for an adult woman's foot.

"I'm sure it's nothing surprising," remarks the old lady, "if you didn't meet anyone at the ball that you felt immediately you could marry. Such short acquaintances... there's much more to an alliance than that. One must feel at ease with the family, for instance."

The Prince opens his mouth, then closes it again. "I did meet someone," he admits. "But I know nothing of her family. It hardly matters to me, however. It will be the woman who can wear this shoe."

The old woman laughs slightly. "How beautifully romantic! But -- she didn't give you her name?"

The Prince shakes his head, looking embarrassed again.

"...but you would recognize her, at least," the lady says, looking down carefully at her hands folded on her skirt. "As soon as you saw her face--"

"I can't be sure," the Prince replies.

There is a thick silence. The old lady frowns, suggesting very rapid and dangerous thought. Theodora lies back against the pillows, interested in the story and too stupid to realize it has to do with her. Lucinda-- but Lucinda's thoughts are always the hardest to read.
action: You examine Lucinda
response: More compact than Theodora, and with more self-control.

"It wasn't a masked ball," the old lady says. "It wasn't even badly lit. Your father did not stint on the candles at all."

The Prince opens his mouth.

"Oh, dear, dear, I am being odiously prying. I'm so sorry. Perhaps you met this young lady out on the terrace..." She trails off, suggesting the very faintest disapproval of young ladies who linger on terraces, out of sight of chaperones, to hold conversations with Princes, and never tell their names.

"I met her in candlelight," says the Prince, goaded. "But she left me at midnight."

The effect of this comment is like the shattering of glass: for a moment you wonder if he dropped the shoe...? No. It is merely that he has admitted, or near-as-admitted, that his chosen bride is one who appeared to him under a glamor, a magical enchantment. A crime punishable by death under his father's law.

Everyone remains very very quiet.
action: You ask Lucinda about the old lady
response: You can only squawk things for everyone to hear.

"Maybe," Lucinda suggests, "she thought it would be wrong to deceive you about what she was, and chose this way to, to make it known."

A spark of comprehension comes into Theo's eyes. "Yes," she says. "She might have thought that-- I mean, I can imagine..."

The old lady glares at her. The Prince looks back and forth, confused.
action: You stand up
response: But you aren't in anything at the moment.

Theodora leans closer to the Prince. "I can go first, if you want," she says. Without any shyness, she lifts her skirt slightly and slips her feet out of her afternoon slippers, wiggling her feet on the soft carpet.

"So strange," she says, giggling. "Taking off my shoes in the presence of a man!"

"I won't tell anyone," the Prince assures her.
action: You fly
response: But the old lady has clipped your wings.
action: You examine the shoe
response: It is very small for an adult woman's foot.

The old lady slips her hands into the pockets of her skirt and leans back.
action: Squawk
response: "Awk!" you squawk.

The Prince drops to kneel at Theo's feet. He looks dubiously at the shoe. "Do you happen to know whether this goes on the left foot, or the right one?" he asks. "It's very--"

"You can try it on both," says Theodora. "If you want."

He begins to slip it onto her left foot. It won't go, not at all. "That's certainly not it," he says, smiling at her quickly.

She twitches her skirt, giving him -- you imagine, since you are at the wrong angle -- a passing view of quite a lot more than her ankles. He blinks once but does not allow himself comment.
action: You jump
response: You hop gracefully down to the other end of the perch.

"Right," he says. "Other foot now." He slides the shoe on, and it does go considerably further. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," he says.

"You're not, not at all," Theo assures him on a wince.

"Shoes are worn tight this year," puts in the old lady.
action: Squawk no
response: "No!" you squawk. "No no!"

Lucinda frowns in your direction.

The Prince stops his work with the shoe. "I can't -- this must not be --"

"Oh, for pity's sake," says the old lady. "You haven't the least idea how women dress. Let me." And she kneels at Theodora's feet, shooing the Prince aside, and gives a firm tap to the heel of the shoe; at which point it slides on.

"Bless me," she says.

The Prince is silent for a moment, looking at the shoe. "It's you," he says. "It's you, Theodora! Why didn't you tell me?"

The old lady turns away, tucking something into her pocket: something glassy and glinting.
action: Squawk glass
response: "Slipper!" you screech. "Wrong slipper! Wrong slipperslipper! In the pocket! Old lady!" It's the most complicated thing you've had to say in years, and your head aches by the time you're done.

The Prince looks at you for a long moment, then turns to the old lady; who shrugs, as though to say that she knows the game is up. Fishing in her pocket she draws out the true slipper. "The other one is only a little larger," she says, handing the real one over. "Theodora's feet are quite dainty, on the whole."

"You are a harridan," says the Prince. "A conniving, treacherous, beastly woman with no knowledge of love..."

"You could still try the shoe on Lucinda," she suggests mildly.

He snorts. "I thank you, I do not want to find my bride here. I imagine everyone under this roof is tainted with a little of the same venom."

"That is the truth," Lucinda murmurs; but he is already going, going, gone.
action: You wait for a while
response: You do nothing. The old lady stares at you, and you stare back.
action: Squawk love
response: "Love!" you squawk.

Theodora blows you a little kiss.

There is an odd silence, as though no one is sure what to do or say now. But it will break momentarily.

The Prince pulls Theodora toward him. "You are a woman of unexpected depths," he says softly. "All these years I have known you, seen you here and there, and thought that you were such a simple straightforward creature..."

She blinks at him, then says, "I hope you are not angry."

He laughs, and touches her cheek; and she kisses him.

Lucinda bites her lip. "Well," says the old lady briskly, standing. "How many unexpected turns life brings to us." And she pulls the bellpull with unnecessary force.
action: You look at Prince
response: He's tolerably attractive, in his flightless way. It's hard not to pity him a little.

"It's so fortunate," says the old lady. "That you're of an age -- that is, that the King has been so blessed with an heir who can follow in his footsteps when the time comes, which we all hope will be--"

Realizing she has led herself into a diplomatic difficulty, she sighs. "God has truly blessed our little kingdom."
action: Squawk death
response: "Awwk!" you squawk. "Magic! Magic!"

"Don't mind our parrot," says the lady, smiling at the Prince. "It has very bad manners."

The Prince glances at you. "I imagine any manners at all would be above average for a bird."

Lucinda smirks.

The Prince sighs. "Yes," he says. "The ball, I meant to tell you..."

He stops.
action: Squawk lies
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"I'm sure it's nothing surprising," remarks the old lady, "if you didn't meet anyone at the ball that you felt immediately you could marry. Such short acquaintances... there's much more to an alliance than that. One must feel at ease with the family, for instance."

The Prince opens his mouth, then closes it again. "I did meet someone," he admits. "But I know nothing of her family. It hardly matters to me, however. It will be the woman who can wear this shoe."

The old woman laughs slightly. "How beautifully romantic! But -- she didn't give you her name?"

The Prince shakes his head, looking embarrassed again.

"...but you would recognize her, at least," the lady says, looking down carefully at her hands folded on her skirt. "As soon as you saw her face--"

"I can't be sure," the Prince replies.

There is a thick silence. The old lady frowns, suggesting very rapid and dangerous thought. Theodora lies back against the pillows, interested in the story and too stupid to realize it has to do with her. Lucinda-- but Lucinda's thoughts are always the hardest to read.
action: You examine the old lady
response: She looks plucked: thin neck with folds of skin exposed, nose beaky, lips white. Perhaps when her fortunes are mended her cosmetics too will improve.

"It wasn't a masked ball," the old lady says. "It wasn't even badly lit. Your father did not stint on the candles at all."

The Prince opens his mouth.

"Oh, dear, dear, I am being odiously prying. I'm so sorry. Perhaps you met this young lady out on the terrace..." She trails off, suggesting the very faintest disapproval of young ladies who linger on terraces, out of sight of chaperones, to hold conversations with Princes, and never tell their names.

"I met her in candlelight," says the Prince, goaded. "But she left me at midnight."

The effect of this comment is like the shattering of glass: for a moment you wonder if he dropped the shoe...? No. It is merely that he has admitted, or near-as-admitted, that his chosen bride is one who appeared to him under a glamor, a magical enchantment. A crime punishable by death under his father's law.

Everyone remains very very quiet.
action: Squawk glamor
response: "Squawk!" you squawk. "Magic! Magic!"

The Prince's eye goes to you. "Your bird, madam, is freakishly percipient. Positively unnatural."

"Yes," she says. "Though I promise you it arrived in that condition and was not made so by anyone in this house." She sighs. "You are in a difficult situation," says the old lady. "You are too intelligent not to have considered the problem thoroughly, and all the risks involved in choosing someone under those circumstances."

Lucinda's lips tighten. "Magic is abhorrent to God," she says.

"That is certainly the opinion of some," the old lady agrees. "I myself wonder whether He would have encompassed in His creation any power which He considered wholly evil. But that is a private philosophy, and does not excuse a violation of the law." She glances at the Prince. "Forgive me: I stray from your problem."
action: Squawk blasphemy
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"I have considered the problem," says the Prince. "Very closely. I have not been able to sleep for considering it."

"Do you know," asks the old lady, "why she...?"

The Prince shakes his head. "Until she fled I had no hint that she was not simply as she appeared."

"Extraordinarily beautiful, no doubt," remarks the old lady, with a hint of a curling smile; and Lucinda titters.

"And kind, and wise," the Prince replies, refusing to be drawn. "Do you know whether magic can counterfeit those qualities as well?"

"Wisdom rarely and kindness never at all," says the old lady.
action: Squawk kindness
response: "Awk! Kindness!"

Sadly this produces no almonds for you.

"Maybe," Lucinda suggests, "she thought it would be wrong to deceive you about what she was, and chose this way to, to make it known."

A spark of comprehension comes into Theo's eyes. "Yes," she says. "She might have thought that-- I mean, I can imagine..."

The old lady glares at her. The Prince looks back and forth, confused.
action: Squawk wisdom
response: "Wisdom," you intone.

No one seems to think you know much about that.

Theodora leans closer to the Prince. "I can go first, if you want," she says. Without any shyness, she lifts her skirt slightly and slips her feet out of her afternoon slippers, wiggling her feet on the soft carpet.

"So strange," she says, giggling. "Taking off my shoes in the presence of a man!"

"I won't tell anyone," the Prince assures her.
action: Squawk gold digger
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

The old lady slips her hands into the pockets of her skirt and leans back.
action: Squawk pocket
response: "Awwwk!" you squawk. "The shoe! The shoe!"

"Yes," says Lucinda to you. "You're very smart."

The Prince drops to kneel at Theo's feet. He looks dubiously at the shoe. "Do you happen to know whether this goes on the left foot, or the right one?" he asks. "It's very--"

"You can try it on both," says Theodora. "If you want."

He begins to slip it onto her left foot. It won't go, not at all. "That's certainly not it," he says, smiling at her quickly.

She twitches her skirt, giving him -- you imagine, since you are at the wrong angle -- a passing view of quite a lot more than her ankles. He blinks once but does not allow himself comment.
action: Squawk hussey
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"Right," he says. "Other foot now." He slides the shoe on, and it does go considerably further. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," he says.

"You're not, not at all," Theo assures him on a wince.

"Shoes are worn tight this year," puts in the old lady.
action: Squawk pockets
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

The Prince stops his work with the shoe. "I can't -- this must not be --"

"Oh, for pity's sake," says the old lady. "You haven't the least idea how women dress. Let me." And she kneels at Theodora's feet, shooing the Prince aside, and gives a firm tap to the heel of the shoe; at which point it slides on.

"Bless me," she says.

The Prince is silent for a moment, looking at the shoe. "It's you," he says. "It's you, Theodora! Why didn't you tell me?"

The old lady turns away, tucking something into her pocket: something glassy and glinting.
action: Squawk lucinda
response: "Lucinda!" you squawk.

Theodora blows you a little kiss.
action: Squawk cheater
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

There is an odd silence, as though no one is sure what to do or say now. But it will break momentarily.

The Prince pulls Theodora toward him. "You are a woman of unexpected depths," he says softly. "All these years I have known you, seen you here and there, and thought that you were such a simple straightforward creature..."

She blinks at him, then says, "I hope you are not angry."

He laughs, and touches her cheek; and she kisses him.

Lucinda bites her lip. "Well," says the old lady briskly, standing. "How many unexpected turns life brings to us." And she pulls the bellpull with unnecessary force.
action: Squawk cork nut
response: "Almond!" you hint. No one takes you up on it.

There is an odd silence, as though no one is sure what to do or say now. But it will break momentarily.

The Prince pulls Theodora toward him. "You are a woman of unexpected depths," he says softly. "All these years I have known you, seen you here and there, and thought that you were such a simple straightforward creature..."

She blinks at him, then says, "I hope you are not angry."

He laughs, and touches her cheek; and she kisses him.

Lucinda bites her lip. "Well," says the old lady briskly, standing. "How many unexpected turns life brings to us." And she pulls the bellpull with unnecessary force.
action: Squawk alex
response: "Awk!" you squawk. "Splendid bird!"

"I suppose it wishes to advocate a greater interest in aviary concerns?" the Prince asks, looking at you with curiosity.

"I wouldn't credit it with nearly that much intelligence," says the old lady. Witch.
action: Squawk witch
response: "Squaw-awk!" you squawk. "Magic!"
action: Go north
response: You can't escape your perch.

The Prince sighs. "Yes," he says. "The ball, I meant to tell you..."

He stops.
action: Squawk ball
response: "Squawk!" you squawk. "The ball!"

"Don't mind our parrot," says the lady, smiling at the Prince. "It has very bad manners."

The Prince glances at you. "I imagine any manners at all would be above average for a bird."

Lucinda smirks.

"I'm sure it's nothing surprising," remarks the old lady, "if you didn't meet anyone at the ball that you felt immediately you could marry. Such short acquaintances... there's much more to an alliance than that. One must feel at ease with the family, for instance."

The Prince opens his mouth, then closes it again. "I did meet someone," he admits. "But I know nothing of her family. It hardly matters to me, however. It will be the woman who can wear this shoe."

The old woman laughs slightly. "How beautifully romantic! But -- she didn't give you her name?"

The Prince shakes his head, looking embarrassed again.

"...but you would recognize her, at least," the lady says, looking down carefully at her hands folded on her skirt. "As soon as you saw her face--"

"I can't be sure," the Prince replies.

There is a thick silence. The old lady frowns, suggesting very rapid and dangerous thought. Theodora lies back against the pillows, interested in the story and too stupid to realize it has to do with her. Lucinda-- but Lucinda's thoughts are always the hardest to read.
action: Squawk lucinda
response: "Awk!" you squawk. "Lucinda!"

"Yes, Parrot?" asks Lucinda, looking up at you rather coldly. She's always made it clear she thinks you possessed. Theo is much nicer.
action: You squawk theo
response: "Awwk!" you squawk. "Theo!"
action: Squawk cinderella
response: "Cinde--"

"Ssh," says Lucinda, glaring at you.

"And I suppose this is a suitable young woman for -- that is, your father will think her a good mother to his grandchildren?"

"I'm sure she comes of good family," says the Prince. "Everything about her spoke of breeding."

The old lady exchanges a glance with Lucinda; two little smiles of quiet smugness, even if they neither of them would like to say why.

"Very appropriate," says the old lady.
action: Squawk godmother
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"It's marvelous that you were so drawn to a young lady that you want to marry her even though you can't remember what she looks like," remarks the old woman.

The Prince glances at her sidelong, but she does not meet his eye.

"She was very pretty."

"As you recall," the old lady says.

"Yes, as I recall," he says. "I wrote down some notes at the end of the evening. Everything I could remember about her, everything I recalled her saying to me. I believe I noted that she was pretty."

The old lady casts about for something to say to that.
action: Squawk notes
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"It wasn't a masked ball," the old lady says. "It wasn't even badly lit. Your father did not stint on the candles at all."

The Prince opens his mouth.

"Oh, dear, dear, I am being odiously prying. I'm so sorry. Perhaps you met this young lady out on the terrace..." She trails off, suggesting the very faintest disapproval of young ladies who linger on terraces, out of sight of chaperones, to hold conversations with Princes, and never tell their names.

"I met her in candlelight," says the Prince, goaded. "But she left me at midnight."

The effect of this comment is like the shattering of glass: for a moment you wonder if he dropped the shoe...? No. It is merely that he has admitted, or near-as-admitted, that his chosen bride is one who appeared to him under a glamor, a magical enchantment. A crime punishable by death under his father's law.

Everyone remains very very quiet.
action: Squawk pretty
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"Maybe," Lucinda suggests, "she thought it would be wrong to deceive you about what she was, and chose this way to, to make it known."

A spark of comprehension comes into Theo's eyes. "Yes," she says. "She might have thought that-- I mean, I can imagine..."

The old lady glares at her. The Prince looks back and forth, confused.
action: Squawk old lady
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

Theodora leans closer to the Prince. "I can go first, if you want," she says. Without any shyness, she lifts her skirt slightly and slips her feet out of her afternoon slippers, wiggling her feet on the soft carpet.

"So strange," she says, giggling. "Taking off my shoes in the presence of a man!"

"I won't tell anyone," the Prince assures her.
action: You think
response: Related ideas flit through your brain: heirs and a marriage.

The old lady slips her hands into the pockets of her skirt and leans back.
action: You say the heirs
response: "Awk!" you say. "Heirs!"

Blood rushes up into the Prince's cheeks. He doesn't look your way.

The Prince drops to kneel at Theo's feet. He looks dubiously at the shoe. "Do you happen to know whether this goes on the left foot, or the right one?" he asks. "It's very--"

"You can try it on both," says Theodora. "If you want."

He begins to slip it onto her left foot. It won't go, not at all. "That's certainly not it," he says, smiling at her quickly.

She twitches her skirt, giving him -- you imagine, since you are at the wrong angle -- a passing view of quite a lot more than her ankles. He blinks once but does not allow himself comment.
action: You think
response: Related ideas flit through your brain: heirs and a marriage.

"Right," he says. "Other foot now." He slides the shoe on, and it does go considerably further. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," he says.

"You're not, not at all," Theo assures him on a wince.

"Shoes are worn tight this year," puts in the old lady.
action: You say the cinderella
response: "Cinde--"

"Ssh," says Lucinda, glaring at you.

The Prince stops his work with the shoe. "I can't -- this must not be --"

"Oh, for pity's sake," says the old lady. "You haven't the least idea how women dress. Let me." And she kneels at Theodora's feet, shooing the Prince aside, and gives a firm tap to the heel of the shoe; at which point it slides on.

"Bless me," she says.

The Prince is silent for a moment, looking at the shoe. "It's you," he says. "It's you, Theodora! Why didn't you tell me?"

The old lady turns away, tucking something into her pocket: something glassy and glinting.
action: You think
response: Related ideas flit through your brain: heirs and a marriage.
action: You say the marriage
response: "marriage!" you say.

Theodora blows you a little kiss.

There is an odd silence, as though no one is sure what to do or say now. But it will break momentarily.

The Prince pulls Theodora toward him. "You are a woman of unexpected depths," he says softly. "All these years I have known you, seen you here and there, and thought that you were such a simple straightforward creature..."

She blinks at him, then says, "I hope you are not angry."

He laughs, and touches her cheek; and she kisses him.

Lucinda bites her lip. "Well," says the old lady briskly, standing. "How many unexpected turns life brings to us." And she pulls the bellpull with unnecessary force.
action: You think
response: Related ideas flit through your brain: heirs.

"It's so fortunate," says the old lady. "That you're of an age -- that is, that the King has been so blessed with an heir who can follow in his footsteps when the time comes, which we all hope will be--"

Realizing she has led herself into a diplomatic difficulty, she sighs. "God has truly blessed our little kingdom."
action: You say the heirs
response: "Awwwk!" you say. "Heirs!"

Blood rushes up into the Prince's cheeks. He doesn't look your way.

"Now I have heard a rumor," says the old lady, pretending that this conversation topic just now occurred to her, rather than being the object of her determined pursuit for the last half hour. "A rumor that you yourself were planning to wed, in the very near future."

Theodora leans closer to the Prince, who tucks his hands more protectively around the slipper.

"There are a great many rumors," he says.
action: You say the rumor
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"It's true, you know, that my father threw the ball in the hope that I would-- that is, that it would lead to a greater acquaintance--" The Prince stops again, rattled, and glares down at the small shoe cradled in his hands. "I had not been very attentive to ladies in my youth."

The old lady looks very strange at that remark. "Well-- my dear boy--" she begins. "I am glad you feel comfortable-- that is, I will not mention-- if you feel you prefer--"

He blinks thick girlish lashes, and you see why she is worried. "No, I didn't mean that I have a preference for boys, madam," he remarks, more at his ease now that she is uncomfortable. "Only that I have been very much occupied with other concerns, and not..."

He gestures. The shoe almost slips off its pillow. He catches it just in time.
action: You think
response: Related ideas flit through your brain: heirs, a ball, Love and God.

"It's true, you know, that my father threw the ball in the hope that I would-- that is, that it would lead to a greater acquaintance--" The Prince stops again, rattled, and glares down at the small shoe cradled in his hands. "I had not been very attentive to ladies in my youth."

The old lady looks very strange at that remark. "Well-- my dear boy--" she begins. "I am glad you feel comfortable-- that is, I will not mention-- if you feel you prefer--"

He blinks thick girlish lashes, and you see why she is worried. "No, I didn't mean that I have a preference for boys, madam," he remarks, more at his ease now that she is uncomfortable. "Only that I have been very much occupied with other concerns, and not..."

He gestures. The shoe almost slips off its pillow. He catches it just in time.
action: You say god
response: "God!" you exclaim. All eyes turn slowly towards you.

"Heavens," says the Prince mildly. "A pet with theological leanings. How unusual. You're most fortunate in your domesticated animals, madam."

The old lady gives you a long, narrow-eyed look. Apparently she does not share the Prince's feelings on that topic.

"I'm sure it's nothing surprising," remarks the old lady, "if you didn't meet anyone at the ball that you felt immediately you could marry. Such short acquaintances... there's much more to an alliance than that. One must feel at ease with the family, for instance."

The Prince opens his mouth, then closes it again. "I did meet someone," he admits. "But I know nothing of her family. It hardly matters to me, however. It will be the woman who can wear this shoe."

The old woman laughs slightly. "How beautifully romantic! But -- she didn't give you her name?"

The Prince shakes his head, looking embarrassed again.

"...but you would recognize her, at least," the lady says, looking down carefully at her hands folded on her skirt. "As soon as you saw her face--"

"I can't be sure," the Prince replies.

There is a thick silence. The old lady frowns, suggesting very rapid and dangerous thought. Theodora lies back against the pillows, interested in the story and too stupid to realize it has to do with her. Lucinda-- but Lucinda's thoughts are always the hardest to read.
action: You think
response: Related ideas flit through your brain: a ball and Cinderella.

"It wasn't a masked ball," the old lady says. "It wasn't even badly lit. Your father did not stint on the candles at all."

The Prince opens his mouth.

"Oh, dear, dear, I am being odiously prying. I'm so sorry. Perhaps you met this young lady out on the terrace..." She trails off, suggesting the very faintest disapproval of young ladies who linger on terraces, out of sight of chaperones, to hold conversations with Princes, and never tell their names.

"I met her in candlelight," says the Prince, goaded. "But she left me at midnight."

The effect of this comment is like the shattering of glass: for a moment you wonder if he dropped the shoe...? No. It is merely that he has admitted, or near-as-admitted, that his chosen bride is one who appeared to him under a glamor, a magical enchantment. A crime punishable by death under his father's law.

Everyone remains very very quiet.
action: You say Cinderella
response: "Awwk!" you say. "Cinderella!"

There is the crack of a summoning: and there she stands, in the doorway, the secret daughter, the enchantress.

"May I present my third daughter," says the old lady, very dryly.

The Prince fumbles to his feet.

"Do you recognize her?" the old lady asks.

"I-- we've never met," says the Prince, looking puzzled. "I would have thought, as long as I have known your family, I would have--"

"She likes to keep to herself. Except, of course, when she surprises us all, and goes out. Come in, Cinderella," says the lady. Lucinda squirms on the sofa.

And in she walks, looking a little as though she has just been woken. The color rises in her cheeks when she looks at the Prince.
action: You say the Love
response: "Awwwk!" you say. "Love!"

The Prince and Cinderella both look up at you. Cinderella puts one little finger to her lips, and winks, but you are afraid.

"I met someone at the ball," he says, after a minute. "I felt for her. I thought to recognize her again by her shoe."

Cinderella tilts her head and looks at the shoe. "If that is the only way you can identify her, I think you are better off avoiding such a wife, hm?"
action: You think
response: Related ideas flit through your brain: a marriage.

"I held the ball to look for someone to-- someone that I might marry," the Prince explains to Cinderella.

"I went looking for the same thing," she says, tilting her head, the way you would. "And did you find what you were looking for?"

"I am not sure," he says. "Did you?"

"He has not told me yet," Cinderella answers.
action: You say the marriage
response: "Awk!" you say. "The marriage!"

"Don't mind our parrot," says the lady, smiling at the Prince. "It has very bad manners."

The Prince glances at you. "I imagine any manners at all would be above average for a bird."

Lucinda smirks.

The Prince frowns at Cinderella. "I don't recall seeing you at the ball."

"No?" she asks, with that funny triangular smile of hers. "We were introduced. Perhaps I did not make an impression."

He frowns, and you can see that he is considering asking her to try the shoe. The silence is sharp. But he realizes -- or does he? -- that her face is wrong.

She waits.

The Prince frowns at Cinderella a little longer, then seems to reach some decision.

"This business of the shoe is nonsense," he remarks. "I've no business to be choosing a wife so arbitrarily."

"And all your heirs would have such small feet," Theodora contributes.

"Yes, that would be-- terrible," the Prince says. "In fact, I think--" He turns and hurls the slipper against the wall, where it splinters into dozens of sparkling pieces. There is a great sigh in the room, and the old lady actually laughs.

The Prince's gaze lingers on Cinderella. She looks back at him, her chin tilted up. "There are things my father need not know. Though I also would not lie to him about anything that I knew for certain."

"A commendable attitude," says the old lady briskly. "And now I am having a brandy. Would anyone else care for a nip?"
action: You say the shoe
response: "Awwwk!" you say. "The shoe!"
action: You look around
response: You give the place a once-over with your right eye. Then you turn your head and look at everything through your left eye. It doesn't make any difference. The farther parts of the room remain out of focus.

The Prince frowns at Cinderella. "I don't recall seeing you at the ball."

"No?" she asks, with that funny triangular smile of hers. "We were introduced. Perhaps I did not make an impression."

He frowns, and you can see that he is considering asking her to try the shoe. The silence is sharp. But he realizes -- or does he? -- that her face is wrong.

She waits.

The Prince frowns at Cinderella a little longer, then seems to reach some decision.

"This business of the shoe is nonsense," he remarks. "I've no business to be choosing a wife so arbitrarily."

"And all your heirs would have such small feet," Theodora contributes.

"Yes, that would be-- terrible," the Prince says. "In fact, I think--" He turns and hurls the slipper against the wall, where it splinters into dozens of sparkling pieces. There is a great sigh in the room, and the old lady actually laughs.

The Prince's gaze lingers on Cinderella. She looks back at him, her chin tilted up. "There are things my father need not know. Though I also would not lie to him about anything that I knew for certain."

"A commendable attitude," says the old lady briskly. "And now I am having a brandy. Would anyone else care for a nip?"
action: You say yourself
response: "Awwwk!" you say. "Pretty bird!"

Cinderella smiles, and comes over to where you are, and pets the top of your head and whispers cossetting things in a language only you understand. Your heart is filled with sweetness.

The Prince frowns at Cinderella a little longer, then seems to reach some decision.

"This business of the shoe is nonsense," he remarks. "I've no business to be choosing a wife so arbitrarily."

"And all your heirs would have such small feet," Theodora contributes.

"Yes, that would be-- terrible," the Prince says. "In fact, I think--" He turns and hurls the slipper against the wall, where it splinters into dozens of sparkling pieces. There is a great sigh in the room, and the old lady actually laughs.

The Prince's gaze lingers on Cinderella. She looks back at him, her chin tilted up. "There are things my father need not know. Though I also would not lie to him about anything that I knew for certain."

"A commendable attitude," says the old lady briskly. "And now I am having a brandy. Would anyone else care for a nip?"
action: You say the babies
response: "NEED BABIES," you say. "Heirs to the kingdom, heirs to the kingdom!"

Blood rushes up into the Prince's cheeks. He doesn't look your way.

"It's so fortunate," says the old lady. "That you're of an age -- that is, that the King has been so blessed with an heir who can follow in his footsteps when the time comes, which we all hope will be--"

Realizing she has led herself into a diplomatic difficulty, she sighs. "God has truly blessed our little kingdom."
action: You say god
response: "God!" you exclaim. All eyes turn slowly towards you.

"Heavens," says the Prince mildly. "A pet with theological leanings. How unusual. You're most fortunate in your domesticated animals, madam."

The old lady gives you a long, narrow-eyed look. Apparently she does not share the Prince's feelings on that topic.

"Now I have heard a rumor," says the old lady, pretending that this conversation topic just now occurred to her, rather than being the object of her determined pursuit for the last half hour. "A rumor that you yourself were planning to wed, in the very near future."

Theodora leans closer to the Prince, who tucks his hands more protectively around the slipper.

"There are a great many rumors," he says.
action: You say gay
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"It's true, you know, that my father threw the ball in the hope that I would-- that is, that it would lead to a greater acquaintance--" The Prince stops again, rattled, and glares down at the small shoe cradled in his hands. "I had not been very attentive to ladies in my youth."

The old lady looks very strange at that remark. "Well-- my dear boy--" she begins. "I am glad you feel comfortable-- that is, I will not mention-- if you feel you prefer--"

He blinks thick girlish lashes, and you see why she is worried. "No, I didn't mean that I have a preference for boys, madam," he remarks, more at his ease now that she is uncomfortable. "Only that I have been very much occupied with other concerns, and not..."

He gestures. The shoe almost slips off its pillow. He catches it just in time.
action: You say yourself
response: "Awk!" you say. "Nice bird! Adorable bird!"

"I suppose it wishes to advocate a greater interest in aviary concerns?" the Prince asks, looking at you with curiosity.

"I wouldn't credit it with nearly that much intelligence," says the old lady. Witch.
action: You think
response: Related ideas flit through your brain: nothing.

There's an uncomfortable silence as everyone tries to think of a sensible direction for the conversation to take from here.

"Mm, we were speaking of ball," says a Prince.
action: You say Cinderella
response: "Awk!" you say. "Cinderella!"

There is the crack of a summoning: and there she stands, in the doorway, the secret daughter, the enchantress.

"May I present my third daughter," says the old lady, very dryly.

The Prince fumbles to his feet.

"Do you recognize her?" the old lady asks.

"I-- we've never met," says the Prince, looking puzzled. "I would have thought, as long as I have known your family, I would have--"

"She likes to keep to herself. Except, of course, when she surprises us all, and goes out. Come in, Cinderella," says the lady. Lucinda squirms on the sofa.

And in she walks, looking a little as though she has just been woken. The color rises in her cheeks when she looks at the Prince.
action: You say the magic
response: "Awwk!" you say. "Magic!"

"Magic magic magic," you sing. "Witch, enchantress..."

Cinderella swallows, but the Prince shrugs impatiently. "I had guessed as much," he says to you. And to her: "I suppose you have looked-- another way than this?"

She nods, and takes the glass slipper from his hand.

"Don't," says the old lady, reaching for her wrist; missing. "They can't-- without proof they won't..."

Cinderella puts it on, turning her ankle to watch the effect. The change sweeps up through her, making her taller, more perfect, almost inhumanly beautiful.

The Prince drops his hand.

"You need not have done that," he says. "You could have broken it. Lied to me. Remained hidden." His jaw works. "Didn't you understand that--"

"She understands," says the old lady, rising from her chair. "I told her. We all told her. She hoped that you would understand her secret but have the wit not to put her to the test." Her fingers dig into the chairback. "I'm afraid the rest of us -- not being in love with you, you see -- we had less faith in your intuition. We thought perhaps we might distract you with one of the other two. One of the plainly... non-magical ones."

The Prince swallows. He is crying: not very man-like. "You see I cannot conceal this; it would be treason, now I have seen this witchcraft with my own eyes..."

Cinderella backs away. "I have no truck with devils," she says. "I was gifted or cursed in my nature, that is all. I cannot make it go away -- the power remains with me."

"It's true," says Lucinda. "We poured holy water on her every day for a year."

"But the law," says the Prince.

"You're an idiot," says the old lady. "You knew what you might find. If you loved her at all, you would not have come looking."
action: You say the shit
response: You squawk very loudly.

"If that happens again," says the old woman to you, "we will sell you to the first man with an earring we can find."

Lucinda's cheeks go pink.

There is a long thoughtful silence. The Prince frowns at Cinderella. "I don't recall seeing you at the ball."

"No?" she asks, with that funny triangular smile of hers. "We were introduced. Perhaps I did not make an impression."

He frowns, and you can see that he is considering asking her to try the shoe. The silence is sharp. But he realizes -- or does he? -- that her face is wrong.

She waits.
action: You say the sex
response: You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.

"Would you mind trying this shoe?" the Prince asks, quite politely.

She nods, and takes the glass slipper from his hand.

"Don't," says the old lady, reaching for her wrist; missing. "They can't-- without proof they won't..."

Cinderella puts it on, turning her ankle to watch the effect. The change sweeps up through her, making her taller, more perfect, almost inhumanly beautiful.

The Prince drops his hand.

"You need not have done that," he says. "You could have broken it. Lied to me. Remained hidden." His jaw works. "Didn't you understand that--"

"She understands," says the old lady, rising from her chair. "I told her. We all told her. She hoped that you would understand her secret but have the wit not to put her to the test." Her fingers dig into the chairback. "I'm afraid the rest of us -- not being in love with you, you see -- we had less faith in your intuition. We thought perhaps we might distract you with one of the other two. One of the plainly... non-magical ones."

The Prince swallows. He is crying: not very man-like. "You see I cannot conceal this; it would be treason, now I have seen this witchcraft with my own eyes..."

Cinderella backs away. "I have no truck with devils," she says. "I was gifted or cursed in my nature, that is all. I cannot make it go away -- the power remains with me."

"It's true," says Lucinda. "We poured holy water on her every day for a year."

"But the law," says the Prince.

"You're an idiot," says the old lady. "You knew what you might find. If you loved her at all, you would not have come looking."
action: You say fuck
response: "Right," says the old lady. And she rings for a servant to remove you from the room.