Cinderella Dressed in Ashes

asked too many questions.

Watching Cerene run, crying, shattered her heart.

Frozen in place, Shew watched her disappear behind the gap in the Field of Thorns. There was no point in running after her this time. Cerene was hurt and she doubted she could help her.

The ghostly wind spiraled again around her feet, and she felt unsafe, alone in the field among the sleeping beauties. With Cerene gone, Shew had the feeling  she was being watched. Something other than the girls hid in the cornfield, maybe in the Wall of Thorns itself. Shew began walking slowly toward the gap, wondering if it was Bianca.

Each of her steps echoed in a dreamy sort of way. She dared not look back but was sure someone was following her. She swallowed hard.

Her steps quickened.

Who’s behind me?

She began running, the footsteps behind her following her.

Shew stumbled over one of the sleeping beauties.  In that moment it occurred to her that whoever was behind her wasn’t chasing her, they were following her.

On her feet, she turned around to face whoever it was.

Remember you’re the Dhampir. You shouldn’t be scared.

Shew saw nothing but yellow corn, ashen skies, and blurry thorn bushes afar.

“Loki!” Shew screamed from the top of her lungs, thinking he was the one after her, “what are you waiting for? I’m here!”

Nothing.

No one called back, no evil Huntsman.  Shew let out a sigh and turned around. She walked slowly toward the gap in the Wall of Thorns.

She could hear the steps behind her again.

Running, she passed through the gap in the Wall of Thorns—the gab was large and the nearest thorns weren’t close enough to slash at her. It occurred to her that she could have passed through the wall if she’d ran through with a fast horse.

Finally, Shew entered the Black Forest. She managed to look back briefly and finally saw someone in a black cloak in the distance. Whoever it was, they were not riding a unicorn, but followed her on foot and stopped once she looked back. From such a distance, recognizing this mysterious person was impossible.

Silently, they stood watching, expecting and waiting. Their silence crept across Shew’s skin, giving her Goosebumps.

She turned and ran as fast as she could, hoping she could remember the way back to the Schloss.

Fifty strides later, she tripped over a log, bumped her head and fell unconscious. Her pursuer approached.

10 The Girl with One Glass Shoe

 Shew opened her eyes, not to the person following her in the black cloak, but to the Queen of Sorrow.

Shew understood immediately that she had awaken in another time because Carmilla had her favorite mirror next to her, which meant she’d met Bloody Mary already.

All other mirrors in Shew’s room had been covered with white blankets so they wouldn’t reflect Carmilla’s true nature. Shew watched her check out her crown and her braided hair in her beloved mirror. Bloody Mary wasn’t present.

 “We need to talk,” Carmilla said, sitting by the edge of Shew’s huge bed.

Shew sat straight up without uttering a word. She thought she’d better listen to what Carmilla had to say first.

“I know you’re lonely, Shew,” Carmilla said. “Because you’re part vampire we have been forced to separate you from everyone for your own good. Soon you are going to be cured. You just need to be patient.”

Shew was a Dhampir who needed to feed, but Carmilla was a vicious murderer of young girls.  Shew was ready to scream at her and tell her that her situation was nothing compared to the queens, but held back.

“However, this doesn’t mean I will allow you to be friends with that Slave Maiden. What was her name again, Tabula?” Carmilla clicked her gloved fingers without looking at her.

“Chi-re-ney,” Tabula answered, her hands rested upon each other in front of her, her chin almost touching her chest.

“Yes, Cerene, what kind of name is that?” the Queen rolled her eyes. For some reason, Shew thought the Queen knew Cerene, but was pretending otherwise. It was that devious sparkle in her eyes.

Uncomfortable by Shew’s suspicious stare, the Queen’s face changed, now acting as if the name rang a bell in her mind. “Isn’t that an Italian name?” she said with a smirk.

Italian? Shew grimaced. Cerene is Italian?

“You ever heard of the Roman Empire, Tabula?” Carmilla said.

“I heard the king mentioning it,” Tabula said. “He said it ended up being something called Italy. What does it mean my majesty?”

“Italy is a shoe-looking island,” Carmilla brushed something off Shew’s mattress with the tips of her fingers. “There is a myth that says the Creators of the World shaped Italy after a glass shoe. A rather romantic notion, some would argue.”

Shew didn’t understand why Carmilla was glaring at her. It seemed like she wanted Shew to read between the lines she spoke.

Why does she know such things about a Slave Maiden, and what is so special about a foreign land shaped like a shoe?

“But why did the Creators of the World shape it like that?” Tabula asked. “That’s rather strange, shaping a kingdom after a shoe, not romantic at all.

Shew knew Tabula was an immigrant from exquisite lands in the Eastern Realm of the world where raising a shoe in someone’s face was considered an insult.

“Wrong question, Tabula,” Carmilla said. She was checking her fingernails, breaking her gaze with Shew. “The Creators are always right. They always have a reason for everything that happens, even our suffering.”

“Then what is the right question, if I may ask my majesty?” Tabula said.

“Why one shoe, not two, would be a good start,” Carmilla’s lips waved into a slow smile. “Didn’t you ever notice that most important things in life come in pairs?”

“What do you mean my majesty?” Tabula questioned cautiously, a little worried why the Queen was having an actual conversation with her. Carmilla rarely talked to her servants. Even today, she wasn’t actually conversing with Tabula. She was sending Shew a message through Tabula.

“Most things in life come in pairs,” Carmilla repeated. “Shoes, couples, eyes, night and day, sun and moon, and even good and evil come in pairs. I guess it is the universe’s mysterious way of trying to create balance. Why only one shoe then? Don’t you agree, Shew?” she gazed back at the Princess of Sorrow.

Shew said nothing. She quietly wished the Queen would leave so she could investigate this dream further, but no one had ever dared to leave when Carmilla was speaking.

“I’ll tell you why,” the Queen finally said. “There is an old story I was told when I was a kid in my father’s castle in Styria. It was a story of a poor girl who lived with her stepmother and stepsisters. Of course, like any other boring fairy tale, her stepsisters were evil and the poor girl was naive,” Carmilla rolled her eyes. “One day, the poor girl wanted to attend a ball to see a cute prince she had a crush on—remember the yummy prince, Shew?“ However, the evil stepmother and the two nasty sisters didn’t let her attend the ball. Do you know why? Because the poor girl was much more beautiful than her sisters were. The villainous stepsisters feared she would catch the attention of the prince, so they trapped her in a small, cramped room covered with cinders of its fireplace, and went to attend the ball. It’s no secret that the rest of the story is agonizingly predictable,” she sighed