Rodolf smiled at Ell as he carefully slid the glass slipper onto her foot. She tentatively smiled back. His proud figure was especially striking in the sunset, and his brown hair fluttered in the wind.
“Come with me, Ell. As the heir to the kingdom, you deserve a better life than this,” Rodolf said.
Ell’s adoptive mother snorted derisively. “Her, the heir to the kingdom? What nonsense is this?”
Rodolf said, “The slipper proves its. Haven’t you heard legends about a glass slipper that will only fit on a female of royal blood? This is the slipper.”
Ell felt faint. The heir… to the kingdom? She hadn’t expected… she’d never thought… “I’ll come with you,” she said to Rodolf.
Together, they walked out of the house that Ell had lived in for so many oppressive years. Rodolf helped Ell into his carriage, and they rode off into the sunset.

In the kingdom of Hertz, news travelled quickly. And so when the king announced that the beautiful crown princess was to be engaged to the handsome young nobleman who had found her, it was a well known fact by the second week. Young maidens everywhere sighed and hoped that one day, they would find their true love just as easily as Ell, while village elders compared it to a fairy tale.
Ell wasn’t sure what to make of the news. Rodolf was handsome, clever, and charming -- but engagement? It seemed too hasty to her. And Rodolf had said that he wanted to marry her soon.
“Shall we dance, my beloved?” Rodolf’s voice interrupted Ell’s thoughts. As always, she smiled back and took his hand.
The waltz was faster than usual, so by the time the song was over, Ell was panting from exertion. Locks of blond hair fell from her tight bun.
“I think I’ll go sit down,” Ell said.
“I’ll get you a drink, then,” Rodolf replied.
Ell teetered through the dancers and into a chair. Who knew that dancing could be so much work? When she had been a servant to her adoptive mother, the idea would have been laughable, but now it wasn’t. Ell looked around, hoping to see Rodolf coming with a glass of wine. Dancing was thirsty work.
After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, Rodolf still hadn’t arrived yet. Ell frowned. How long could it take for him to get a drink? All he had to do was to talk to the nearest waiter. In fact, Ell was sure that by the time Rodolf arrived, she could have multiple drinks already.
Perhaps he had simply forgotten where Ell was sitting? In that case, Ell should go look for him. She got up, still slightly tired, but she ignored the sensation. Ell walked around the crowd, but she still didn’t see Rodolf. Maybe he had returned to her seat? No, that couldn’t be it. Ell occasionally caught glimpses of it through the crowd, and at one point a boy and a girl were sitting on it scandalously close together.
Increasingly frantic, Ell forced her way through the talking nobles and searched the edges of the ballroom. Finally, when she was near the kitchens, she heard Rodolf’s voice.
“Hurry up, cook. My beloved is waiting for me.”
Ell recoiled with shock. She’d never heard Rodolf speak like this before! After a few moments, she crept towards Rodolf’s voice.
“Has this been properly prepared yet, cook? If you mess this up again...”
“Yes, milord.”
“Have you put in the drug yet?”
“Uh, no, milord.”
Ell heard a disgusted snort and the sound of slapping. What was going on? Rodolf had never shown this side of himself before -- at least, not where Ell could see.
“Remember, chef, if the princess discovers this, it will be your head on the chopping block. Is that clear?”
“Yes, milord.”
“I need her subservient, not stupid. So don’t put in too much.”
Ell listened with growing horror. Rodolf seemed to be involved in some scheme to make her subservient. But why? The cynical part of her, the one that she had buried when she left her adoptive mother’s house told her. He wanted power, simple as that.
Ell whispered to herself, “I thought he loved me.” But the part of her that had survived her adoptive mother told her that if she wanted to survive this, she couldn’t afford to mope.

It was the day before the wedding, and Ell still didn’t know what to do. She needed evidence that Rodolf was putting things in her drink to make her his slave. She needed more than whispers and guesses. Ell had already been laughed into silence when she had tried to talk to the king -- her father. Too drunk, huh? Ell knew that what she heard had really happened.
Perhaps… one more try couldn’t hurt. Ell had tried to avoid drinking or eating food that had been handled by Rodolf, but it had been hard to do so without drawing suspicion. She’d had to drink rainwater the last few days.
“Rodolf?” Ell asked, “I think I need something to drink. My throat’s parched.”
Rodolf, as solicitous as ever, offered to fetch her some wine. Ell nodded, and he left the room.
She fetched a servant’s clothes from a nearby hangar. She didn’t feel too guilty -- it was probably a spare. Then, she changed into them. Instantly, her gaze slid to the floor, and she started slouching, just as she had acted in her adoptive mother’s house. She hefted a tray experimentally and started taking it to the kitchen.
The moment Ell entered the kitchen, she realized that she had made a mistake. Her blue uniform didn’t match what the real chefs were wearing. Hopefully, Rodolf wouldn’t notice. She walked, trying to seem purposeful yet not too confident. Where was Rodolf?
Finally, she saw him shouting at a chef. He gestured angrily at a cup of wine, which was probably what he was going to give to Ell.
“You there! Serving girl,” Rodolf adressed Ell dismissively, “I want you to deliver this glass of wine to Princess Ell. Do you understand?”
Ell looked down. She didn’t want Rodolf to recognize her now. “Yes, milord,” she mumbled in falsetto.
Ell placed the glass of wine on the serving tray and left the kitchen. When she was out of eyeshot of anybody else, she started heading towards the king’s court. He wouldn’t be able to deny this piece of evidence.

In the end, the king saw what Ell was trying to say with less resistance than she had expected. He ordered for Rodolf to be thrown in jail indefinitely, stripped of his title and property. Ell wasn’t particularly sorry about that. Strange, she mused, that she had escaped a life of servitude to her adoptive mother, only to almost be made into a servant for Rodolf.
So, life hadn’t been a fairy tale after all. Still, Ell had survived, the way she always had.