Cinderella Page #5

Gentlemen.

May I present my daughters,

- Anastasia, Drisella.

- Mademoiselle.

Off you go!

Smile.

Come with me.

Over there. Smile.

So, you're the prince!

Not "the prince," exactly.

There are plenty of princes in the world.

I'm only a prince.

But your name's not really Kit.

Certainly it is,

and my father still calls me that,

when he's especially un-peeved at me.

But you're no apprentice.

I am. An apprentice monarch.

Still learning my trade.

Oh, gosh!

Look, please forgive me.

I thought you might treat me

differently if you knew.

I mistook you

for a good, honest country girl,

and now I see you didn't want

to overawe a plain soldier.

Little chance of that.

No more surprises?

No more surprises.

Is that you?

I hate myself in paintings. Don't you?

No one's ever painted my portrait.

No? Well, they should.

Who is she?

She gave no name, Your Grace.

You didn't ask?

I was out of breath, Your Grace,

on account of introducing

Princess Blodwyn

of Llanfairpwllgwyngyll...

- Shut up, will you?

- "Shut up." Absolutely.

I don't believe this!

No! Not her!

Won't they miss you at the ball?

Maybe.

But let's not go back just yet.

What's wrong?

When I go back,

they will try to pair me off

with a lady of their choosing.

I'm expected to marry for advantage.

Well, whose advantage?

That is a good question.

Well, surely you have a right

to your own heart.

And I must weigh that

against the king's wishes.

He's a wise ruler and a loving father.

Well, perhaps he'll change his mind.

I fear he hasn't much time to do so.

Poor Kit.

People are saying she's a princess.

Our prince seems quite taken with her.

She went straight for him.

You have to appreciate her efficiency.

But surely, if she is a princess,

this may be good.

I've already promised him in marriage,

to the Princess Chelina.

But...

Forgive me, Your Grace.

I did not mean to intrude.

No, it's you who have

to forgive me, madam.

Your secret is safe with me.

I've never shown this place to anyone.

A secret garden.

I love it!

Please.

No, I shouldn't.

You should.

- I shouldn't.

- You should.

I will.

May I?

Please.

It's made of glass.

And why not?

Allow me.

Thank you.

There.

There.

Won't you tell me who you really are?

If I do, I think

everything might be different.

I don't understand.

Can you at least tell me your name?

My name is...

I have to leave.

It's hard to explain.

Lizards and pumpkins, and things.

Wait!

Where are you going?

You've been awfully nice.

Thank you for a wonderful evening.

I've loved it.

Every second!

"Lizards and pumpkins."

Excuse me.

Sorry! Terribly sorry.

My goodness!

My prince!

You've got the wrong one!

He needs her name!

I know he needs her name.

Her name, you ninny. Get her name!

That really hurt!

Your Majesty.

Young lady.

I am so sorry.

Think nothing of it, my dear.

I wanted to say, Your Majesty,

your son Kit

is the most lovely person I ever met.

So good and brave.

I hope you know

how much he loves you.

Excuse me!

Wait!

Wait!

Where are you going?

Hurry, hurry!

Come back!

Hurry!

Hurry, please, Mr. Goose!

Wait!

Watch out!

Captain, my horse.

No!

This may be some intrigue

to lure you from the palace.

Your father needs you here.

Captain!

I was having a fine old time.

You had to go and choose that one,

didn't you?

Yes, I did.

Hurry, Mr. Goose!

Come on!

Hee-ya!

Be careful, Mr. Goose!

Oh, my goodness!

You there! Stop in the name of the king!

Such bad timing.

Halt there!

I know what to do!

Yes!

Get this thing open!

Oh, dear!

No, no, no.

I'm sorry.

You'll find it's very comfortable.

Do shut up!

Cinderella!

Cinderella! We'll have to wake her up.

Cinderella!

Wake up, lazy bones!

Tea and a plate of biscuits.

Welcome back!

- You look cheerful!

- And wet!

I took a walk in the rain

to cheer myself up.

Typical.

Tea.

We did not communicate

through mere words.

Our souls met.

Precisely.

My soul and the prince's soul.

Your soul was over

by the banquet tables.

You didn't see him dance with me.

Dance with you?

He didn't even speak to you.

It was not our fault, Mother.

It was that girl.

The mystery princess.

Mystery princess?

My, what a charming notion.

She was no princess.

She was a preening interloper

who made a spectacle of herself.

A vulgar, young hussy

marched into the ball,

unaccompanied, if you will,

and to the horror of everyone,

threw herself at the prince.

And he actually danced

with the ugly thing.

- Yes?

- Yes.

It was pity.

He was too polite to send her packing

in front of everyone, you see.

But not wanting to expose us

to the presumptuous wench any further,

- he took her apart.

- And told her off.

But she refused to leave

and the palace guards

chased her from the party!

I pity the prince. Such bad taste.

They belong with each other.

Well, it's no matter, girls.

The ball was a mere diversion.

The prince is not free to marry for love.

He's promised to the

Princess Chelina of Zaragosa.

The Grand Duke told me himself.

It's so very unfair.

Yes.

The way of the world.

Hello again.

Thank you for your help.

It really was like a dream.

Better than a dream.

Ella couldn't wait to write down

all that had happened,

so that she might remember

every single bit of it

just as if she were telling

her mother and father

about the palace ball

and her time with the prince.

Above all, the prince.

You've come.

Good.

Father.

Don't go.

I must.

You needn't be alone.

Take a bride.

The Princess Chelina.

What if I commanded you to do so?

I love and respect you, but I will not.

I believe that we need not

look outside of our borders

for strength or guidance.

What we need is right before us.

And we need only have courage

and be kind to see it.

Just so.

You've become your own man.

Good.

And perhaps, in the little time left to me,

I can become the father you deserve.

You must not marry for advantage.

You must marry for love.

Find that girl.

Find her.

The one they're all talking about.

The forgetful one

- who loses her shoes.

- ...loses her shoes.

Be cheerful, boy.

Thank you, Father.

Thank you, Kit.

I love you, son.

I love you, Father.

Once the time for mourning

had passed,

a proclamation was sent out.

Hear ye! Hear ye!

Hear ye!

Know that our new king

hereby declares his love for

the mysterious princess

as wore

glass slippers to the ball.

And requests that she present herself

at the palace,

whereupon, if she be willing,

he will forthwith marry her

with all due ceremony.

Are you looking for this?

There must be quite a story to go with it.

Won't you tell me?

No?

All right then.

I shall tell you a story.

Once upon a time,

there was a beautiful young girl

who married for love.

And she had two loving daughters.

All was well.

But, one day, her husband,

the light of her life, died.

The next time,

she married for the sake

of her daughters.

But that man, too, was taken from her.

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