The glass slipper. The fairy godmother. The crazy whirlwind romance. It’s Ella’s story of how she conquered her surroundings and took hold of her own life. But, it’s my story too.
That night wasn’t the first time we had met, it really wasn’t a love at first sight and a speedy engagement that no one thought would work. It started with socks and a letter. I was sent to lead my kingdom in a war with one of the neighboring countries. The days were long and the nights were cold on the war front and any comfort from home was a gift. One day, a box with a dozen knit scarfs and an equal amount of socks arrived for anyone in need of them. Any time a gift like this arrived, the men rejoiced and I would try and deal out the insides of the package evenly so every man would at some time get something. On this occasion, my second in command handed me one of the pairs of socks (I had finally worn through mine) and the letter that accompanied the package. The words in that letter were kind and comforting and offered solace should I only ask for it. So I did. Despite all of the men surrounding me, I was lonely, and afraid to confront my fear of fear out here in this field of death. She never failed to write back, always signing the letters with a simple “E”, while I never signed my at all.
When we finally ended the war and returned home, my father decided to hold a welcome home festival ending with a ball. He told me that I had earned a brake and I should start enjoying myself. He hinted at other things but I turned him away before he started talking about them, I had seen too much misery to start thinking about that.
I sent her house an invitation to the ball, not that my family had already taken care of sending out invitations to almost every eligible women’s families in the kingdom. That night, I danced and tried to be happy for the first part of the evening, dancing with the girls my brother and sister and I thought were pretty enough, if my brother didn’t get to them first, but I finally had enough. I went out into the gardens to find some peace from the crazy people vying for my attention. That was when I ran into her, literally.
She laughed as she laid on the grass and I apologized and tried to help her up. Her bright smile lit up the nights as she told me she liked it down there and she had, in that moment, decided to stay there for a while. Giving up, I joined her.
For a while, we simply laid down on the grass looking up at the stars, then we started taking, and talking, and talking. I finally asked her name, she said to just call her E, and I knew. She spoke with the same eloquence that she wrote with and had said some of the same things she had said in her countless letters to me, I couldn’t believe I had missed it. After a while, I asked her to dance and with no questions as to why or a laugh about how there was no music, she took my hand and we danced.
I love this version of this story much more than the original! A love rooted in kindness and the exchange of meaningful words is a much more powerful connection. So creative, Kinzie!
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