Free Cinderella: Ninja Warrior by Maureen McGowan Page B

stepped back, her expression had molded into a smile of sorts, but this new expression injected more terror into Cinderella than any scowl. Cinderella knew that smile. Long ago, she’d learned never to accept it at face value.
    No longer expecting a reward, Cinderella wondered how her stepmother would punish her and what excuse she’d devise to make her punishment seem just.
    “I’m impressed, Cinderella,” her stepmother said, stepping back and keeping the hard smile on her face.
    Cinderella knew staring at her stepmother was beyond rude, but she had to wonder if she’d lost her touch at interpreting the woman’s expressions. There was no punishment yet.
    “When I saw the completed dresses and how you’d used every single bead,” her stepmother continued, her voice even and calm, “I assumed you’d used a wand, or the services of a powerful wizard to finish this in a single night. But now I see you used only your hands and your patience to complete this difficult task.”
    Cinderella waited for the “but.” When her stepmother doled out praise, there was always a “but,” and experience had taught her to expect a big one at a time like this.
    Her stepmother turned to Agatha and Gwendolyn, who looked confused. “What do you think of your dresses, girls?”
    Gwen looked to her mother for clues as to how she should respond, while Agatha’s attention vacillated between the dresses and Gwen.
    “Fine work, wouldn’t you say?” her stepmother asked.
    “Oh, yes!” Agatha ran her fingers over the beading again before stepping back to admire her dress. “I think they’re absolutely beautiful. The prince won’t be able to resist us.” She turned to Gwendolyn and grabbed her hands. “Don’t you think so, Sister?”
    Gwendolyn lifted one of the feathered sleeves of her dress, and her lips twitched as if she were fighting to keep a smile down. “They’re all right, I suppose.”
    “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” her stepmother said.
    Cinderella’s insides froze.
    “You’ve created a big problem for your sisters, Cinderella.”
    Her mind spun with the possible problems. “But the beading is lined,” she said, “and I made sure the feathers don’t fall too far down, so neither Gwen nor Agatha will trip while waltzing with the prince.” What problem could she have neglected to anticipate?
    “Slippers. Handbags. Hair adornments.” Her stepmother shook her head as if she were talking to a child who couldn’t remember that seven came after six. “After what you’ve done, nothing the girls own will do, and with my other engagements today, I cannot make time to shop with them.” She pursed her lips together.
    “You’re right, Mother.” Gwendolyn turned up her nose as if smelling sour milk.“My slippers are covered with brushed silver threads, but they won’t do with this gown. Under the feathered hem, they’ll look plain and everyone will laugh.”
    Cinderella suppressed a cry of protest. She agreed that the slippers Gwendolyn had planned to wear would be inappropriate with the gown, but not for the same reason. A much simpler pair of slippers would be better—ones of a soft dove gray, or the palest of pale pinks.
    “What will we do about this, girls?” her stepmother asked, crossing her arms over her bosom.
    “Tear off the beading and feathers?” Gwendolyn suggested, which made Cinderella’s stomach feel as if it were about to expel the few bites of porridge that had been left for her to eat after the others had finished.
    All her work torn apart? Even her stepmother would never be that cruel. Would she?
    “Mother.” Agatha stepped forward. “Given we have only today to shop, perhaps Cinderella should accompany Gwen and me to the village to help us pick out new slippers.”
    “That’s actually a good idea,” remarked Gwendolyn, running her hand over the beading on her dress. She turned to her mother with a forced smile on her face. Agatha beamed at the praise from her sister.
    Cinderella took a