A crowded church, filled to the brim with the kingdom's finest and most elite.
Romantic vows, said while clasping hands and gazing into each other's eyes.
Two shiny rings, exchanged to symbolize the eternity of our relationship.
A kiss, the seal of our love.
A carriage, gilded and gorgeous and waiting to whisk us away on our honeymoon.
As the girl who had spent my life amongst the cinders, it was almost as if I had woken up in a dream. All those people, dressed head to toe in such elegant finery and draped in so much expensive jewelry, there to see and celebrate me. It was everything I'd ever dreamed of and more. My own Prince Charming. The most beautiful dress in the world. A castle to live in. And most importantly, a future without any scraps of food or rags or bossy stepsisters or cruel stepmother. A future free from the life of oppression and servitude that I had longed to escape for so long. A future in which I, the girl who had been known as Cinderella for so very long, would someday be queen. It was magical, a dream come true.
We arrived at the royal family's summer home that evening, located at the foot of the mountains on the edge of the Kingdom. Romantic and secluded, it the perfect location for a honeymoon.
"It's not nearly as big as the main castle, of course," the prince said, as he extended his hand and helped me down from the carriage. "But I hope that you find it satisfactory."
I laughed, gazing up at the beautiful stone structure in front of us. I decided that I liked it even more than the main castle. It was covered in ivy and surrounded by trees and gardens. Even standing outside, it felt much more homey and comfortable and welcoming. It was impressive, yes, but without the intimidating grandeur of the other castle.
"I think it'll do nicely," I said, smiling up at my new husband.
He smiled back at me, taking my breath away. He was so devastatingly handsome, with his big brown eyes and dark hair. I still couldn't believe that he was mine and I was his. How had someone like him chosen someone like me? After so many years of the worst luck in the world, why had fortune decided to bless me with all of this?
"Come on," the prince said, leading me up the stone pathway that led to the front door. "I'll give you a tour."
"This castle was built about 250 years ago by an ancestor of mine as a summer home for him and his new wife," he explained, as we entered the grand foyer. "Ever since then, it has been a tradition for members of the family to honeymoon here."
We continued on our tour, with him pointing out the ornate carvings in the woodwork or explaining who the people in the portraits on the wall were. Everything was so fancy and expensive-looking that I hardly dared to touch any of it for fear that I would break something.
"And here," he announced grandly at the end of our tour, "is the master bedroom."
I stared at the large wooden door in front of me, feeling as if a hundred butterflies had suddenly taken up residence in my stomach. The bedroom. This was where the two of us would consummate our love for each other. This was where we would truly become one – a thought that terrified me.
He reached out and grabbed the golden handle, pulling open the door. The sight that greeted us was, of course, magnificent. Gorgeous gilded designs all around the top of the walls. Stained glass windows in every color imaginable. Light danced off of the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Below it was the biggest bed that I had ever laid eyes on. My heart sped up when I saw it.
I opened her mouth to say something about how beautiful the room was, but before I had a chance, my husband had scooped me up in his arms. I squealed in surprise as he carried me over the threshold and across the room, dropping me on the bed. I fell back, my head landing on one of the many pillows. I lay there for a moment, gazing up at him from under my eyelashes, trying to remember what my ladies-in-waiting had told me about looking desirable. He crawled into the bed next to me, immediately planting a long kiss on my lips.
"Cinderella," he murmured after he pulled away, his eyes filled with a hunger that I had never before seen. Quite frankly, it made me even more nervous than I had previously been.
"Edmund," I said suddenly, "don't call me that."
He looked confused. "But that's your name."
"No," I said. "No, it's a nickname my stepsisters gave me. My real name's just Ella. And I like to be called that again. I haven't been just Ella in years. I've almost forgotten what it was like."
"Well, Just Ella," he said, his eyes twinkling in the way they always did when he teased me, "do you realize that we are now married?"
I felt a smile begin to creep across my face. "Really? I must not have been paying attention for that."
"Well," he said, brushing a lock of hair from my face, "I can assure you that we are. Which means that we are now quite alone and able to do…whatever we want."
The butterflies in my stomach began to flutter even more wildly than before, but I managed to raise an eyebrow in a manner that I hoped was at least slightly seductive. "Oh, really?"
"Would you like to go change into something more…comfortable?" he asked.
I nodded.
"It's tradition for us to not bring many servants to this castle," he explained, "so you'll have to dress yourself while you're here. I hope that's not a problem."
After assuring him that it wasn't a problem and that I had, in fact, been dressing myself since I was quite young, I stood up to go change into my nightgown. It, like all the other clothes that had been packed for me, had not belonged to me before. All those dresses – ragged hand-me-downs from my stepsisters Anastasia and Drizella – had been thrown out, replaced by the most gorgeous wardrobe in the world. They were truly the clothes of a princess. Even this nightgown put my old clothes to shame.
I made my way back to the bed, where Edmund was lying, already changed. He was on the top of the covers, his bare chest completely exposed. My breath caught in my throat. He was beautiful.
His eyes lit up when he saw me approach. "Come here," he murmured, stretching out his arms.
I went to him and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his body.
"Are you nervous?" he whispered in my ear.
"Yes," I replied softly.
"Don't be," he said. "You can trust me. I promise."
So I did.
"What are thinking about?" he asked me, as we lay together afterward.
"I'm thinking that I'm glad you picked up my glass slipper and decided to find me," I told him.
This answer seemed to satisfy him, although it wasn't really true. I had actually been wondering how it was possible that the man that I was married to didn't know that my real name was Ella. It was true that it had been years since anyone had actually called me that, but it still seemed like something he should have been aware of. I wondered how much I didn't know about it him, and for the first time that thought crossed my mind that perhaps we had married a bit too soon.
The next morning, I awoke to find Edmund's side of the bed empty, a note in his place.
My darling Ella,
Meet me downstairs in the dining room for breakfast.
Your loving husband,
Edmund
I smiled to myself as I slipped out of bed and got dressed. The smile stayed in place as I descended the grand staircase. My doubts and insecurities from the night before had faded away with the darkness and now seemed silly. I had nothing to worry about. Yes, we had married rather soon, but he loved me and I loved him. We had the rest of our lives ahead of us to get to know everything about each other.
Entering the dining room, I found Edmund deeply immersed in conversation with the maid. He was sitting at the head of the table, an open newspaper in front of him. She was crouched down beside him, their heads bent together, reading what appeared to be the same article.
"Good morning," I said, as a way to announce my presence.
The maid immediately stood up. "Good morning, your highness," she said, curtsying clumsily.
I nodded at her, taking a seat. "So," I said brightly, "what were you two reading about?"
"We were just discussing this article," he said, pointing to a large story about a war that was taking place in a far off country. "It offers a unique perspective on the whole conflict. Perhaps you'd like to read it?"
I almost told him no. I'd never been one who'd paid much attention to foreign affairs. But then it occurred to me that I would queen someday and I should probably start making an effort to become more informed. Besides I didn't quite like the idea of Edmund having private conversations with this maid that I couldn't be a part of. It was an absurd thing to be jealous about, but she was very pretty, with wide set green eyes and long black hair that was pulled into a French braid and I couldn't help but feel a bit insecure.
"Yes," I said, reaching out and taking the newspaper from him. "I'd love to."
"Can I get you anything else, ma'am?" the maid asked me in a thick Spanish accent.
I noticed for the first time that the table was covered in dishes of food. Plates overflowing with fruit. Ham and cheese quiches. Frittata. Scones and jam. Belgian waffles and maple syrup. My mouth began to water. I hadn't been able to eat much the night before due to the combination and nerves and excitement, but this morning I was starving.
"No, thank you," I said, picking up a strawberry and sticking it in my mouth. "This is plenty."
She smiled at me, her lips pulled tightly together. "Very good," she said. She turned to Edmund. "And you, sir?"
He shook his head. "Everything is perfection, Catalina. Give our compliments to the chef."
Catalina. A gorgeous and exotic name that matched her perfectly.
She curtsied once more and exited the room.
We ate in silence for a bit, as I tried to the read the article. But it kept making references to previous battles that had been fought and politicians I had never heard of, and soon enough my eyes began to glaze over and I let out a yawn.
Edmund glanced up sharply. "Is the article boring you?" he asked.
"A little," I admitted.
"You know, Ella," he said, reaching out and taking the paper back, "you're going to be queen someday. At some point, you should probably start to take an interest in foreign affairs."
I flinched at the condescending tone of his voice. It was a side to him I'd never really noticed before and I didn't much like it. I'd spent years being talked down to by my stepsisters and stepmother; I hadn't gotten married to experience the same thing.
His eyes softened a bit. Perhaps he's noticed that he'd upset me. "I'm sorry, Ella. That wasn't fair of me. I know that you didn't have a chance to receive much of an education."
This was true. I had been kept busy, cooking and cleaning for my lovely family. Any free time I had was usually spent sleeping and on the rare occasion that I did get a chance to pick up a book, it was usually a novel. Still, I remember before my father died that I used to love learning. I'd go into his study and sit on his lap as he read to me from the newspaper. He'd explain the articles to me and point to the countries that we involved on the globe. How strange, I thought, that I knew more about current events when I was seven than I did now.
"Could you explain it to me?" I asked. "I'd love to understand."
Edmund smiled at me. "Of course, my dear. I'd love to."
"So what are we going to do today?" I asked, after we had finished breakfast.
Edmund leaned back in his chair and gazed at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Whatever you want, darling."
"I'm not used to having so much free time," I said. "I hardly know what to do with myself."
Before meeting the prince, my life had not been much more than an endless stream of cooking and cleaning. Even after becoming engaged, my days had been kept pretty busy with wedding planning. But now there were no floors for me to scrub and no meals for me to cook. There weren't even any dress fittings or cake tastings to attend.
"Would you like to go horseback riding?" he asked.
I nodded. "That sounds like a nice idea. I think I'd like that very much."
He stood up, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. "I have a few things I need to take care of first," he told me. "Some letters to write, that sort of thing. So how about you go relax for a bit, then put on some riding clothes and meet me out at the stables at eleven?"
"Sounds like a plan," I said, standing up as well. "I'll see you in a bit."
At eleven I opened the door of our bedroom and stepped into the hallway, adjusting my hat as I went. As I turned the corner, I collided with Catalina, the beautiful maid Edmund had been talking to that morning at breakfast.
"I'm sorry," I said, leaning down to pick up the feather duster she had dropped. Handing it back to her, I noticed she looked a bit frazzled, her braid half undone and an uncomfortable expression on her face. She didn't quite meet my eye as she took the duster back, her gaze darting in every other direction in an apparent effort to avoid making eye contact.
"Are you feeling okay?" I asked.
She nodded. "Yes, fine," she murmured hastily, brushing past me and disappearing down the hallway.
Her behavior struck me as quite strange, but I shrugged it off. By the time I reached the stables, my mind had shifted to other thoughts. Like the fact that I hadn't ridden a horse in years, not since my father had died when I was nine.
"Feeling nervous?" Edmund asked, when he arrived a moment later, looking much too handsome in his riding boots and jacket.
"A bit," I admitted.
"Well," he said, cupping my chin with his hand and planting a kiss on my nose, "you mustn't worry. I won't let any harm come to you."
I nodded, gazing into his brown eyes. "I know," I whispered.
"By the way," he said, as he helped me mount my horse, "Catalina told me that when she went in to clean up our room this morning, the old sheets were already stripped off and new ones put on. Did you do that?"
"Yes," I replied sheepishly. "I'm so used to having to do everything for myself. It would have felt so strange to walk away without making the bed."
"Ella," he said, squeezing my hand, "you are a princess now. Princesses don't make their own beds."
"No," I replied. "I suppose they don't."
"Just remember who you are," he continued, as he mounted his own horse. "You're no longer – and will never be again – a servant. You're the future queen of this kingdom. Never forget that."
How could I forget something like that? The future queen. It was like something out of a dream.
This is my first fanfiction that isn't Harry Potter related. I was inspired to write it one day when it occurred to me that Cinderella had married her prince without bothering to get to know him at all. This seemed like it would lead to a lot of troubles in their marriage and I thought those troubles would make a good story.
Please review!