Ana ducked into the bushes beneath the window with a shudder, drawing a shaky breath through her fingers. She didn’t know if they had seen her, but she couldn’t risk being caught. Her poor step-sister had no idea. She mooned over him, pathetically fantasizing about her life as a princess. She never asked why he’d wed an orphan like her, why he insisted on keeping their affair a secret, why she was granted a “fairy godmother,” or what had happened to the other girls he’d seduced.

The queen had invited Ana to the palace with her sister and mother – a transparent audition for the role of princess. He was nowhere to be seen, so she had plead a mild headache and gone out to the garden for some fresh air. She saw an ice-blue glow in a far window. Curious, she peeked into what appeared to be the prince’s study.

“She is enthralled, the little fool. You get her to the ball – I’ll make sure she is so dazzled that at midnight, she’ll never see your knife.”

The ball was tomorrow night. She had to save Cinderella.