A Prince Of Much Allure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: The Imaginarium


A retelling of 'Cinderella' where the Prince is not quite what he seems. Cover picture from Pixabay. CCO, free to use.

Submitted: June 07, 2018

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Submitted: June 07, 2018

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A Prince Of Much Allure

There was uproar in the house. The Prince....THE Prince, was holding a grand ball and it seemed that everyone who was anyone was to be invited.

“He’s looking to choose a bride, I’d say.” The Lady of the house, and I use that term very loosely, was heard to say. And even though she was way too old, she could not bring herself to accept that neither her or her daughters were in with no chance.

An uglier pair would be hard to find; fat in all the wrong places, warts, and just plain ugly. The fact that they piled make-up on top of make-up only made them look much worse. If they’d accepted what they looked like they would have at least been passable.

“You’ll not be going,” one said to their step-sister, taken in from the kindness of her mother’s heart, supposedly. Really, she was nothing more than slave-labour.

“But we will allow you to help us get ready.”

Cinderella was expected to be grateful, so she hid her tears, held her tongue and kept the truth to herself. Her step-sisters looked ghastly! Monstrous, would not really be an over-statement. With every additional bow and piece of lace, the effect became much worse.

When they finally left to make their way to the palace, Cinderella allowed her tears to flow. Why did life have to be so unfair? She wasn’t interested in the Prince, for he would hardly notice such an insignificant a person as herself. As she worked her way through the list of tasks that was left for her, she sobbed and sobbed. So intent was she in her disappointment she did not notice the plump, kindly looking woman who had appeared in the kitchen and now stood quietly waiting to be seen.

Finally, becoming frustrated with the wait, the woman spoke up. “Cinderella!” She paused, while the startled girl got back on to her feet. “You SHALL go to the Ball!”

“But how can I?” Cinderella choked back her sobs. “Look at me, all dressed in rags. I’d not be allowed through the door!”

“Ah, but with a sprinkling of this,” the woman tossed something towards Cinderella that looked like glittery dust; “And a dusting of that,” followed by some chalky looking ash, “you will be the Belle of the Ball!”

There was a swirling of air, a soft scented breeze that for just a moment made Cinderella want to sneeze. She shut her eyes and, when she opened them, she found herself dressed in the most gorgeous gown of red satin. It set her long blonde hair off beautifully. Even her face was made-up to perfection, not that she needed much to achieve the look.

“Come on, now, your carriage awaits. But one word of warning, make sure you leave the Ball before the stroke of midnight. For your own good. No matter how magical it all feels, do not forget.”And with those words the woman disappeared.

She’d just been dreaming, Cinderella thought, but looking down she saw she still wore that mind-blowing red dress and these slippers that looked to be made of pure crystal. When she opened the door to peep outside, a carriage waited for her. It was pulled by two pure white horses, and in her hand, edged in gold was that so important invitation.

The journey took place as though in a dream and, all too soon, she found herself climbing up the palace steps. Cinderella paused to look back, her carriage still stood there, she could escape when she needed. And with that reassurance she stepped through the door.

There were people everywhere, all intent on making a good impression. Never before had she seen so much satin, so much lace; but whereas her dress was blood-red, nearly all of the others were pale colored. Cream or white seemed to be the most favoured color. As heads turned towards her, Cinderella found herself wanting to turn and flee, but the crowd had opened up for her and she had no choice really but to keep going forward.

Instantly she was seized by the hand and waltzed on to the dance floor. One man after another stepped forward to whirl and to twirl her around. She caught sight of him at the same instant that he caught sight of her. She knew who he was; THE Prince. He watched her for a while. Every time her glance passed his way, there he was with that almost predatory stare.

Cinderella still jumped when she felt his hand upon her shoulder, watched her dance partner reluctantly step back. Alarm bells rang inside her head, there was something.....not right. But then her eyes met his and she found herself mesmerized; she felt just as though she was now where she truly belonged, in his arms.

Everything else faded, became nothing more than distant background, as he whisked her expertly around the floor. Other girls tried to attract his attention, but his eyes remained firmly fixed to those of Cinderella. She never wanted to let him go, but wanted this Ball to go on forever.

Just as the clock began to strike midnight, he leaned forward, bared his fangs and got ready to sink his teeth in to that perfect white neck. He had found his bride! But she pulled away suddenly, sharply, escaped his grip and fled towards the door. He could not understand it. He had not even begun to bite.

Cinderella was not running from the Prince. She wanted to stay with him for ever. But there had been a warning, hadn’t there. There was a danger. She’d forgotten to keep track of the time and now had to run, tripping her way down the steps and losing a shoe in the process.

Where was her carriage? Not where she had last seen it, and there were so many she dared not waste time in looking. She fled on foot, running all the way home.

Cinderella darted in to the kitchen, shedding off her fine red dress, tangling up her hair and smearing her face with dirt and dust as she went. They must not even suspect that she had been there. She scrunched up the beautiful fabric and hid it with the brooms and the brushes. No one but her ever went near them so what better place could there be to hide it. She curled up and pretended to be asleep, acted as though she did not hear all the talk about the mystery imposter who had selfishly stolen all of the Prince’s attention.

The Prince was heart-broken, the rumor said. Not quite true, as his heart was somewhat different to most, but his mind was made up. That woman in red, she would become his ‘forever partner’, no matter how long it took him to find her. The crystal slipper would be his clue. He was sure there was only one foot that it would fit perfectly.

Every female from near and far would have to try the slipper. If they would not do so willingly then they would do so by force. He wanted her and he would have her, with her consent or not. The Prince had chosen his bride-to-be, and that was, quite simply, that.

It was not until the second day that the search arrived at the house where Cinderella lived. She was shut away in the kitchen of course. After all, she had not even been to the Ball. One sister tried to squash her fat foot inside of the slipper; the other tried to squash a foot way too long inside it. Even their mother tried in spite of the bunions on her toes that made it all to clear that it could never possibly fit.

The Prince himself was there, trying to hide his frustration. He was hungry.....always hungry, and nothing else would do. He was just turning towards the door with his accompanying guards when the door to the kitchen flew open.

Cinderella stood there in that blood-red dress, and ignoring the gasps of her step-sisters, went forward. She walked none to steadily as one foot wore a crystal slipper and the other was bare until she stepped straight in to the one that matched it. Of course it fitted to perfection.

Overtaken by his hunger, the Prince wrapped her in his arms and sunk his teeth in to her neck. Cinderella gasped, first in shock, but very soon in pleasure. The Prince had found his for-ever bride and Cinderella soon adapted to the life of a vampire princess.


© Copyright 2018 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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