"Why run away now when you didn't run before?" she was asked.
The short answer would probably be she didn't have the means to run away before. But here is the longer answer. This is her story and it might be different from how you have heard it.
It all started with the invitation I suppose. It reminded me of the girl I used to be. I loved parties; I loved balls; and I certainly never missed the King's Festival. But all of that seems like a lifetime ago.
Stepmother would never let me go. Ever since Father died, leaving us in debt, she forced me to become a servant. Her slave, more like. She refused to pay me. She said she was doing me a great kindness simply by not turning me out into the streets.
My father had left me nothing. Everything that was left after paying off his debts now belongs to Stepmother. I was penniless in every sense of the word.
Stepmother is a cruel person. She had never showed me any kindness when she married my father, only harsh words and punishment. After Father died last year, she became downright nasty. We had to move to a smaller house in a smaller town and she threw me in the attic and told me I must earn my keep. I threw a fit. I screamed and shouted and stomped my foot, but she locked me in the attic without food for days until I finally agreed to do the housework.
She let go of all the servants except Rachel the cook, Jane the housemaid and Thomas the coachman. Jane was always wary of me, for I had never had much reason to ever speak to her before. But now I had to rely on her to learn everything about being a maid. As soon as she had trained me to a manageable extent, even she was let go.
Stepmother punished me every time I made a mistake, and I made them frequently. She chopped off my hair once, when I complained I could not maintain it properly anymore. She sold away my dresses because she said we needed the money. I secretly managed to hide three of them along with a pair of my mother's slippers that she had left me.
She kept me in such misery that I had almost forgotten that I was wealthy once, that I had a good life when my father was still alive. Oh how I regret not appreciating what I had back then. I never stopped complaining to Father about Stepmother or Lucinda and Florinda. Even back then I thought they were making my life miserable because Stepmother would never let me have my way and send me to bed ever so often without supper. And my stepsisters were always fighting with me and fighting with each other and telling on me and telling on each other. But how wonderful that life seems when I compare it to a life of drudgery.
Not only did Stepmother make life miserable, but Lucinda and Florinda were almost as bad. Whenever they were not fighting with each other, they were bossing me around, sending me on endless errands that interfered with my daily chores, and always complaining to their mother about my unsatisfactory performance. All of these scenarios usually resulted in yet another punishment for me.
I contemplated running away several times, and even attempted it once. But I quickly realized that I had nowhere to go. I had no family to speak of. I had no money to support myself. So I came back and faced my punishment for running. I had no choice but to stay on in this life of utter misery.
When the invitation arrived, it made me long for my old life. I wanted to go to the Festival. It was the one time of the year when everyone was welcome at the palace. Every year, the townsfolk set up a market on the palace grounds and sell all sort of beautiful things from gowns and shoes and hats to handmade charms and jewelry and ornaments. Better still are the stalls where they sell sweets and delicacies of all imaginable kinds. But best of all is the dancing. Musicians come from all over the country to play and the dance floor remains crowded till well past midnight.
Father would always take us to the Festival for as long as I could remember. He and Stepmother would mind the merchandise he sold at the market, while Luncinda, Florinda and I would shop and dance to our heart's content. We would always fight over the dresses and hats we wanted to buy. We also fought over dance partners. We were always fighting back them. I don't fight with them anymore. Not when I risk a tirade from Stepmother at the slightest provocation. They were the ones who gave me the name Cinderella, because I would get covered in cinders after lighting the fireplace. I hate that name, but after a while, even I started using it because my real name did not feel like it belonged to me anymore.
At any rate, I determined that I would go to the Festival this year, even if for at least one of the three nights, but it would have to be in secret. Stepmother and the girls planned to stay all night, so as long as I returned early and judiciously avoided them at the venue, they would never know I was there. Thomas the coachman agreed to come back to take me after he had driven them first. He had always been very kind to me. I could trust him not to betray me.
I wore one of my old dresses and my mother's slippers. The dress was a little loose on me since I had lost so much weight on account of my drudgery, but it had to make do. The slippers fit perfectly. I have incredibly small feet just like my mother had. Father used to buy her special shoes from abroad, but Stepmother sold all of them, except this one pair that I managed to rescue.
When I arrived at the Festival, however, it did not feel like old times. Much had changed over the past year and I felt sorely out of place. I had no money, so I could not shop or enjoy any of the delectable treats. I felt too nervous to step into the dance floor for fear of running into Luncinda or Florinda. They would surely tell Stepmother right away if they found me out. So I hung by the edges and watched the guests.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the Prince actually came up to me and asked to dance. I panicked. A mere servant like me should not be dancing with the Prince! So I fled. I found Thomas and he brought me home. I was asleep before Stepmother and the girls came home.
The next day I could not stop thinking about how I had felt at the dance. I was dressed like my old self, I behaved outwardly like my old self, but somehow I could not be my old self. Last year, I would have been thrilled to have been asked to dance with the Prince. But this year, why had I panicked? When he asked me to dance, why did I think of myself only as a servant? Had I really started to forget who I used to be?
I determined I needed to reclaim my old self, so I would go to the second night of the Festival. This time, I did not shy away from the dance floor. I danced with partners and I danced without partners, being careful to stay far away from my stepsisters. Eventually, I came face to face with the Prince and somehow he recognized me. He asked me why I had run last night and I stammered something about needing to return home. He began to ask me too many questions. He asked me my name and where I lived and what I liked to do. I tried to give him vague answers. I gave him my real name, Eleanora. I told him I lived near the hills on the other side of the river. And I told him that I helped to maintain my father's house. He thought I was one of the other fine ladies he had danced with that night. He would not be happy if he knew I was only a servant. I began to grow nervous again, and as soon as I had my opportunity, I ran back home.
I had decided I would not go back the last night. I had fallen behind on many of the household tasks. But that morning, when I went to pick up the firewood from the boy who delivered them, I saw the Prince riding past on his horse. Members of the royal family hardly ever passed through these parts. What was he doing here? I followed him as clandestinely as I could, and I heard him inquire after Eleanora. But no one knew me in this town, so they could not help him.
I rushed back home, my head spinning from what I had seen. The Prince was looking for me. Why would he be looking for me? Did he really find me that interesting? Would he still be interested if he knew I was a servant?
In the end, my curiosity got the better of me, and I went to the last night of the Festival after all. Putting on the last of the three dresses that I had saved, I nervously thanked Thomas after he drove me there. The Prince seemed to have been on the lookout for me, for he was by my side very quickly. We danced together for most of the night, and I enjoyed myself so much that I did not notice that it had gotten quite late.
When the clock struck midnight, I began to panic. I had to get home soon. The Prince did not seem keen to let me leave, and he insisted on having me accompany him as he wandered around the shops. He even bought me some of my favorite sweets. He told me he would not let me run tonight, thus he was determined not leave my side. I had no idea what he wanted from me. Did he want to be with me? Then would he save me from my stepfamily? But would he want to, if he knew I was their servant? It was all too uncertain. So I seized my opportunity and ran when he wasn't looking. But this time, he gave chase.
In my hurry to get away, I stumbled, and one of my slippers came off. There was no time to go back for it. I somehow managed to get to the carriage and Thomas drove me home. On the way, I wondered what the Prince would do with the shoe. Would he try to find me? Would he come to take me away?
The next day, I got into a lot of trouble with Stepmother because I had not completed so many of the household chores. She called me lazy and worthless and all sorts of names till I could not take it anymore and I shouted back at her. She locked me in the attic for the rest of the day.
In the evening, she let me out because she needed to send me to town to buy some household supplies. In the town square, I beheld a most curious sight. The Prince was there surrounded by a large crowd of people and he was asking all the girls present to try on a shoe. My mother's shoe. So he was trying to find me.
I pushed my way through the crowd to get a better look. All sorts of girls were forming a line to try on the slipper, Luncinda and Florinda among them. Apparently, the one who fit the shoe would get to go with the Prince back to the palace. It amused me to see all these girls struggle to fit the tiny slipper. But then my stepsisters saw me watching, and they started to shout at me and scold me for being there. They ordered me to go home at once. The commotion caught the Prince's attention and he came up to me. He recognized me and asked me to try on the shoe. Luncinda and Florinda protested and told him I was a mere servant, but he was insistent. I had had enough of them, so I tried it on. The slipper fit. The Prince took me back to the palace with him and told me I need not go back home.
Of course I was happy to have finally escaped home, but how would I live in the palace? I was not naïve enough to think the Prince wished to make me his wife. He was promised in marriage to some foreign royal years ago. He said he had hoped to make me lady-in-waiting to the young Princess, but in light of the fact that I was a servant, it would not be wholly appropriate. I protested and argued that I had been wealthy once, and I was capable of serving the role of lady-in-waiting, but the Prince remained skeptical and instead took me to the Queen and asked her to take me on as a handmaiden. Then he told me he wished me to be his paramour.
Perhaps it was worth it to get away from my stepmother and stepsisters. At least at the palace I was paid for my services, and I was never disciplined. The Queen was rather harsh with her handmaidens and made us work extremely hard day and night, but I was used to this. Nevertheless, I still found the work back-breaking. The Prince was always trying to interfere with my work by seeking out my company. He wasn't the only one. Upon witnessing my popularity with the Prince, there were other men of the court who wished to spend time in my company as well.
Very soon, it became exhausting to escape them and avoid them and turn them away. I began to fear that some of them would be very persevering in their advances. I realized, rather sadly, that I had not found freedom after all. But on the other hand, now I earned a wage. This changed my situation considerably.
For many months, I saved assiduously until I finally had enough to pack up and leave. Now I can start my life over in a new town where the Prince or anyone else from the court would not recognize me. I can use my savings to pay for food and a roof over my head while I search for suitable employment. In time, perhaps I will make friends, and perhaps I may be able to have a new family. And I will get to do all of this in my own terms.
She had not had someone in whom to confide for many months now, even years. But now she felt so relieved to be finally able to share her story with someone. Maybe she had made a friend.