Free The Ugly Stepsister (Unfinished Fairy Tales Book 1) by Aya Ling Page B

Or Darcy Guy. I should have finished the journey, but I can’t risk it. I gather my train in my left hand, brush my veil aside with my right, and slink away to the nearest seat.
    Even though I’m keeping my head down, I can sense Bianca’s glare, directly across the aisle, sharp and piercing. Her performance must have been flawless, but I, on the other hand, couldn’t have been worse. Well, I had made an impression, though not what Lady Bradshaw expected.
    The queen pretends that nothing happened, bless her.
    “Let the next lady be presented.”
    Claire proceeds down the aisle; she is perfect as the quintessential blonde beauty. Her hair trails down her back like a waterfall of pure gold, her crystal blue eyes are luminous and fringed by thick lashes, her skin pink and glowing. She executes the curtsy in a movement as smooth and graceful as a ballet dancer.
    If the queen were an Olympic judge of gymnastics, she would have held up a card with full marks on it. Whereas I would get a big fat zero.
    While I’m staring at Claire’s back, I notice Darcy Guy looking over at me. His eyes—hazelnut like the queen’s—gleam like a flashlight in darkness, and he gives me the tiniest of nods.
    I don’t respond. I’m mad at him, even though it isn’t his fault. Judging from his attire, he must be a close relative of the queen. Holy guacamole, he could be the prince!
    I told him the royal family were imbeciles. What if he tells the queen? He asked my name, and they announced it just now, so he knows who I am. Oh God, what kind of trouble am I in?
    Someone kill me again.
     
    At the dessert buffet that follows the presentation, I avoid talking to others. Which isn’t hard; no one bothers to talk to me. Except for Poppy, who tries to offer a few sympathetic words. Maybe, after seeing how I humiliated myself before the queen, everyone figures it’s best to leave me alone.
    I pick at my food and sigh. They have arranged chocolate muffins, cranberry scones, and lemon cream puffs into pyramids on huge silver platters, along with glass pitchers of chilled fruit juice. But right now I’d have no appetite even if I were at the Ritz. I screwed up my presentation.
    Bianca’s chatting with some other girls. Poppy is occupied with her aunt and Claire. I poke my fork at the food, then reach for a glass of water. I really wish I had a fan.
    So I do the most logical thing available. I stand up, wipe my fingers on the napkin, and get out of the chair.
    “Katriona, where are you going?” Lady Bradshaw says sharply. Nothing escapes her eagle eye.
    “I just need some fresh air,” I say. “It’s stuffy inside. I’ll be back soon.”
    “You’re supposed to remain indoors.”
    “If I don’t get out now, I will faint away and make an even worse spectacle. I’ll just be gone for a second, and no one’s going to miss me anyway.”
    She purses her lips and glances at the crowd in the room. Everyone’s conversing and having a good time.
    “Very well then. But do not wander too far. It would be dreadfully embarrassing if you lost your way and required assistance to be brought back.”
    I slink away, glad for a chance for temporary relief. When meeting difficulty, I escape. In the modern world, I’d hide in my bedroom and cry, or delve into books, as if they could ease the pain.
    I ask a servant to show me the way outside. Soon I find myself in the gardens. There’s this maze of tall green hedges that looks like the one they depict in Alice in Wonderland . It’s pretty cool, and just what I need at the moment.
    I duck into the maze and remove my slippers. My feet ache terribly. Angry red boils have sprung on my big toe, and my heel is blistering. Blissfully barefoot, I find a bench right at the end of the maze, beside a rose bush.
    Urgh. Thank God the presentation is over. I look up at the sky. Wispy clouds float in a sea of blue. So carefree, so relaxed...unlike me.
    Brisk footsteps head in my direction. I jump up and look for my