I coughed away the black smoke as the stench of the burning serpent hung on my clothes. I brushed away the ash from my brow and I staggered into Estella's room, letting my knees fall into the mattress.

  Estella came to tend to me.

  "Andres? You'll be okay. Come on, now."

  My head spun. I fought back the bile in my stomach. I questioned if the past few minutes had really happened; if it had just been a dream. Yet, I did not need to be pinched. The stinging of my arm and my hands were impossible to simply imagine. My eye caught the glimmer of the glass slipper again, and while Estella rushed to Ana to help her stand upright, I gingerly took it from the fireplace and carefully placed it behind my back, wedged inside my belt.

  Ana leaned against the wall, beckoning for me and Estella to leave the manor for good. We came to either side of her, and although she insisted that she was fine, we lifted her up by her legs, and marched her with great difficulty up the stairs. She grunted throughout, hating being fussed over with so much unyielding determination, but for a moment, it at least got her mind off of the terrible truth she had learned about Ynez.

  We stumbled out of the office, trying not to show our struggle beneath Ana's surprising weight. She held onto us tight with her muscular arms, almost crushing our spines in the process, but giggling through it, Estella and I chose to endure. We crossed into the living room, almost bashing Ana's head against the edge of the doorway, and squinted against the light shining from the windows until we reached the great portrait of Gloria's twin daughters.

  Estella paused. She looked apologetically at the portrait of the young girls left without a mother, even if they had yet to learn of her fate. Sadness and guilt washed over her, and she pleaded.

  "I don't know what I would do with myself if I found out they knew about all of this."

  The girls, adorned in bright, infantile frills before their mother's monstrous plot took root, appeared with a hint of displeasure in their painted eyes. I had known them to be unpleasant and immature, but not capable of sending innocents to their deaths. I asked for Estella's input.

  "Do you think they did?"

  She shrugged and sighed weakly.

  "They have always been cruel to me. My stepmother encouraged it. They tore my dresses and cut my hair as I slept. They constantly insulted and belittled me and threw me around. They have been awful to me… but somehow, I cannot see them doing anything like that. They never could keep a secret, no matter how major." She turned to me. "Would you spare them? Please. I just have this feeling in my bones. I just…"

  Had Ana not been between us, I would have rested my hand on her shoulder for comfort.

  "No harm will come to them. You have my word."

  We dragged ourselves away from the painting, fearful of where the sisters were, and when they would return to see the self-inflicted tragedy that befell their mother. It was without question that they would be interrogated, if not exiled for treason, but it was my belief that keeping them in a cage or letting them die would not do any good. They were still young, and had much room to grow outside the influence of their parentage, just as I had.

  We reached the grand hallway, almost slipping on the polished tiles, but with a shared chuckle at our own near-failure, we stayed footed. With one hand for the split second I could set it free, I turned the doorknob and threw open the front door. Entrapped in our own hilarious struggle to not drop Ana, we looked at the ground before us, oblivious to the noise and commotion right in front of us.

  My face fell. It suddenly all became too much to ignore.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Around twenty men surrounded the garden with weapons drawn. They yelled out conflicting orders. We were told to stand, to drop to our knees, to state our names but also to not speak at all. Ana lowered herself from our grasp, but held onto us for support.

  "QUIET!" She screamed as loud as her weakened lungs could allow.

  All of the men answered to her. They recognised her voice. And then, they recognized me.

  "Your highness!" A knight exclaimed, falling to one knee, prompting the others to follow suit. One man remained, looking upon us with a mixture of solace and unease.

  "Thank the bloody Sun you're alright."

  Sir Rafael came towards me with his hand over his heart. His thick hair had pooled with sweat, and while he did not bow, he took my arm and sucked his teeth at the sight of the wound.

  "I'm sorry I didn't get here earlier." He said, not initially realising my utter confusion. Eventually, he caught on when he saw me and Ana's blank expressions, and he explained himself. "I knew you'd come back here. Both of you. When I discovered you'd gone…"

  He suddenly appeared rather sheepish as he noticed Ana's anger beginning to alight.

  "I am sorry, Zol-" he stopped himself, "-Ana. I was blind. I was following orders without questioning them. I really hope you'll forgive me. And if not, then at least let me have the courtesy of putting you forward as Captain in my place."

  Ana's eyes widened and her head jolted around, baffled. The men never stopped bowing, agreeing with every objective that left Rafael's lips.

  "Come here." With his might, Rafael lifted her from me and Estella, and led her towards two men who he ordered to give her immediate medical attention. He briefly looked back at me, opening his arms out.

  "What even happened here? It's a bloody mess!"

  Ana, under a layer of cold, wet cloth on her side, raised her hand with much labour. She explained everything to Rafael and to the other soldiers, and they sat silently, unable to comprehend every gruesome detail that Ana graphically described, complete with gestures and ear-squirming sound effects. Estella could not hold in her stifle at the men's uncomfortable reactions, despite all the gore they had seen first-hand. Ana was effervescent, seeking dramatics in her delivery, and were it not for her injuries, she would have been darting around, getting close to each and every soldier to bask in their twisting faces. She was a great storyteller, yet each and every word was found to be believable, no matter how mythical parts of it sounded.

  Me and Estella watched on for a while, not noticing how close we had drifted together. We bumped into each other, and let out a short gasp each. We turned bashful, unsure of exactly what to say at first. What to say now? After so much time searching for her?

  "I like your smile." I admitted. She let out a quiet giggle.

  "I suppose you have never seen my face before." She said, aware of the confusion that had grasped me for so long. "It's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

  "I love a story. Remember?" I replied, thinking back to her awe at my extensive library. A little shy, but slowly easing in to be just as confident as I knew her to be, Estella told me everything, and I hung onto every sentence.

  She began by describing faint memories of her late mother, and the well-remembered years spent with her father. She told me of the indentured servitude she was coerced into over time after she was left in the sole care of her wicked stepmother, who only became so after her father's passing. I took in every word, amazed at her strength and persistent kindness despite her tribulations. She spoke of the Faerie Godmother, appointed by her father at Estella's birth without her knowledge, who came to her aid when she only wanted one night of freedom. Her Godmother had cast a spell over her so that she would not be recognized by her stepmother and stepsisters, which came at the price of myself and everyone else there being blind to her beauty. I noticed the waves of pain in her voice, which rippled into acceptance and joy as those happier times soon flooded from her lips. And then she came to my favourite part - where we danced at the ball.

  "I wanted to stay so badly," she said, "but the Godmother's spell wore off at midnight. I had completely lost track of time. I thought that... maybe you wouldn't accept a lowly orphan. A prince like you was made for a princess, or a duchess, at least. And so I ran. I felt I had no choice."

  Relief lifted a giant weight from my soul.

  "I am so glad," I said, "I thought that I had maybe said something that made you run. I have worried about it ever since."

  We turned to face each other, absorbing every detail now that we were under the Sun's natural light.

  "I cannot believe what you did to try and find me. You really did care." She said. "And against all odds, you found me."

  "How could I do anything else?"

  The distance between us closed as she took my hand. "I read your favourite book." I said.

  "And?"

  "I liked the ending."

  "When the maiden is freed from her tower and marries the prince?"

  I nodded.

  "And they lived happily ever after."

  In that moment, it felt again as though we were the only two people in the world, and everything beyond us meant so little. It was the feeling I'd had when I met her, and the feeling I wanted to persist for the rest of eternity.

  So I got down on one knee.

  "There is one thing left to do." I said, and I pulled the slipper from behind my back. She seemed surprised that I had found it, nevermind snuck it out of the fireplace without her knowledge. Slowly, with anticipation buzzing in us both, she slipped off her dirty sandal, and raised her knee. Her foot entered the slipper firmly, and as expected, it was a perfect fit. A surge of joy took my body uncontrollably as I waited and watched that the slipper would not react to her touch. Her face glowed, and I took my hands off the stained glass. I remained kneeled before her, overtaken by radiant emotion.

  "Estella Del Flores," I looked into her eyes. Their gorgeous bronze sheen glistened in the light, "will you marry me? And travel the world by my side?"

  Gasps surrounded me from every direction, but the only one I cared for was Estella's. Water welled up in her eyes,

  and she squeezed both my hands.

  "Yes," she breathed, "yes, Andres, I will!"