I open my eyes, instantly conscious that my feet are in agony. Late morning glows white at my window and Stepmother stands near my bed, cold as uncooked meat.

"It was you," she says quietly. "I can't imagine how I failed to recognize you. But just as we were leaving, I realized-"

"Stepmother!" I spring off the bed and fall against her soft chest. "Stepmother, hold me, I'm so scared!" I squeeze her arms and whimper into the lacey front of her gown.

"Heavens, child, what's the matter?" She sounds more curious than sympathetic.

I tell her what happened. I leave out the magic stuff (like Godnutter) and say the black dress belonged to my mother. I tell her how the prince treated me. That doesn't seem to surprise her as much as the offer of marriage.

"He truly asked you to be his queen?" she says.

"Do you think he'll look for me?" I ask, pulling her sleeves. "Do you think he'll find me?"

Stepmother looks over my head, thoughtful. "Without knowing your name, it will be difficult. I suspect he'll lose interest."

I sniff and try nestling into her. She puts a firm hand on my shoulder and pries me off. "Well, thank goodness it's over. Now dry your face and come lay the table for breakfast." She turns stiffly and heads down the attic stairs.

I rub my face with my hand. Stepmother is about as comforting as a cactus. But like she said, at least it's over.

Then a sudden thought grabs hold of my throat.

Is it over? I limp over to the small, square mirror on my wall. Godnutter said if I failed to win the prince, I would turn back into ordinary Cinderella. But the face in the mirror is still pretty Cinderella. Which means that the prince still wants me.

Which means it's not over.

No! I'll hide. I'll stay indoors for months if I have to. At least in this I can trust Stepmother. The last thing she'd want is for me to become queen. She'll lock me in the attic before she ever lets that happen.

The prince will give up. He has to, all he's got is my shoe. And whoever heard of finding someone with just a shoe?