In front of the house, the Captain stared at Lady Tremaine. The woman shifted uncomfortably as the singing continued.

"She's lying, Your Grace," the Captain said when Lady Tremaine continued to insist there was no one else inside.

"Nonsense," the Grand Duke snapped. He was tired of this pointless search and tired of the Captain. He grabbed the slipper and shoved it into the hands of a waiting guard. They had done what the king commanded—for the most part. How would Kit ever know they hadn't seen every maiden?

"Thank you," the guard said, accepting the slipper, his face hidden in the shadows of the cloak he wore.

The Grand Duke turned to go. But then the guard pulled back his cloak. The Duke gasped. Standing there, a witness to the whole scene, was Kit. "Your Highness," the Grand Duke cried. The other servants immediately bowed, as did the Captain and the other guards. Lady Tremaine's mouth dropped open as she sank into a curtsy.

(I always did like that Kit. Such a clever boy!)

Ignoring them all, Kit looked up at the house. "What sweet singing," he said. "It makes me want to tarry just a little. Captain, will you be so good as to investigate?"

The Grand Duke looked back and forth between the king and the Captain. He had been played! Kit had been there all along, watching him and making sure his orders were carried out. And the Captain had helped him! "Your Highness. I did not know," he said, trying to collect himself.

Kit looked at his friend. "Captain?"

The Captain knew exactly what Kit wanted. Taking Lady Tremaine by the arm, he pulled her toward the house. "Come along, then, madam," he said.

"It is a dirty servant, Your Highness," the woman called over her shoulder "A cinder girl!"

"He doesn't care about her station, does he?" the Captain said as they disappeared into the house. "He cares about her foot."

Ella was still singing when she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock. Her voice trailed off as the door swung open to reveal her stepmother and a man dressed in uniform.

"There," Lady Tremaine snarled. "No one of importance."

Ella recognized the man and his kind gaze. He had been in the forest and at the ball. If she remembered correctly, he was the Captain of the Guard—and a friend of Kit's! Her heart beat faster.

"We'll see about that," the Captain said to Lady Tremaine. Then he smiled at Ella. "Miss, you are requested and required to present yourself to the king."

Ella saw her stepmother's face turn red with rage. "I forbid you to do this!" Lady Tremaine screamed.

"And I forbid you to forbid her," the Captain countered. "Who are you to stop an officer of the king? Are you an empress? A saint? A deity?"

"I am her mother," Lady Tremaine declared.

Until that moment, Ella had been quiet, not daring to speak, not sure what was happening. But at the word mother, she stepped forward. She would not take Lady Tremaine's ruining her mother's name. "You have never been, and you never will be, my mother," Ella said, her voice steely.

Nodding, the Captain held out his hand to Ella. "Come now, miss," he said.

Ella squared her shoulders and walked across the room, not even looking at her stepmother as she passed. But she couldn't avoid the woman's foul words, whispered in her ear: "Remember who you are, you wretch!"

Ella didn't respond. She kept walking right out of the attic and down the stairs, Lady Tremaine's last words echoing in her head. She was about to see Kit, which was both exciting and terrifying. For what if, when he saw her for who she really was, he didn't want her? What if her stepmother was right and she truly was no one? She stopped in the front hallway, her whole body shaking nervously, the Captain in front of her, her stepmother behind her.

She stared at the door for a moment. On the other side was her future. Good or bad, happily ever after or not. And in that moment, Ella knew that she would not let Lady Tremaine's words weaken her. She wasn't a nobody. She was someone who was kind, even to people as horrible as Lady Tremaine. She was someone who made sure the mice were fed, even if she herself was not. She was someone who was brave, someone who wasn't afraid to stand up for what was right. She was someone her mother and father would be proud of.

Taking a deep breath, Ella walked the last few steps and opened the front door. Standing on the other side was Kit. Her eyes met his.

"Who are you?" he asked, looking at her closely, an expression of recognition slowly spreading over his face.

"I am Cinderella," Ella said proudly. For Cinderella was a part of her now, and always would be. And she would no longer let it be a source of embarrassment. Instead, she would embrace it completely. Both as Ella and Cinderella, she' d become the person she wanted to be. "Your Highness, I am no princess. I have no carriage; I have no gowns. No parents and no dowry. I do not even know if that beautiful slipper will fit. But if it does, will you take me as I am—an honest country girl who loves you?"

There was a silence. For a moment, Ella worried she had said too much. But then she saw delight in Kit's eyes. "I will," he said. Then, kneeling, he held out the glass slipper.

Slowly and gently, Kit slid the shoe onto Ella's foot. The action felt familiar to both Kit and Ella as they thought back to the swing on that fateful night. There was a gasp from the onlookers as it slipped right on, a perfect fit. Raising his eyes to meet Ella's, Kit smiled. And in Kit's eyes, she saw what he saw. Not the glamorous girl from the ball, but the woman whom Kit, the king, loved. In his eyes, she was beautiful and radiant. She was strong and kind. She would be queen.

Rising to his feet, Kit took Ella's hand in his and squeezed. All around them, the servants and guards bowed. After a tense moment, even Lady Tremaine and her daughters curtsied, though they seemed pained to do so.

"Cinderella," Drisella began.

"Ella," Anastasia corrected, trying to get in her stepsister's good graces. "We are so very sorry!"

"Forgive us," Drisella cried.

Ella looked at the two girls and smiled. It was a smile that didn't make promises and left her stepsisters nervous. But Ella had already forgiven them. She could never treat them the way they had treated her. Still, for now, she would let them worry, just a little. After all, she wasn't perfect...

房子前面，侍卫长一直盯着特曼妮夫人。歌声仍在继续，特曼妮夫人不自在地扭来扭去。

“她在撒谎，大人，”侍卫长说道，但特曼妮夫人仍然坚持说家里没有其他少女。

“胡说！”公爵喝道。他受够了这毫无意义的搜查，也受够了侍卫长。他夺过水晶鞋塞到旁边一个侍卫手里。他们已经按国王的命令做了——做了一大半。基特怎么会知道他们没有查访到所有的少女呢？

“谢谢，”侍卫接过水晶鞋说，他低着头，斗篷的影子遮着脸。

公爵转身要走，这时侍卫扯开了斗篷。公爵倒吸了一口凉气。原来是基特，他站在那儿，目睹了刚才发生的一切。“陛下，”公爵喊道。其他人立刻鞠躬，包括侍卫长和侍卫们。特曼妮夫人行屈膝礼的时候，吃惊得张着嘴巴。

(我确实一直都喜欢这个基特。多聪明的小伙子啊！)

基特没理会他们，而是抬头看着房子。“多甜美的歌声，”他说，“它让我想多逗留一会儿。侍卫长，你能去调查一下吗？”

公爵看看国王，又看看侍卫长。他被愚弄了！原来基特一直都跟着他，看着他，以确保他的命令得以执行。而侍卫长在暗中帮助他！“陛下。我刚才不知道。”他说着，极力使自己镇定下来。

基特看着他的朋友：“侍卫长？”

侍卫长知道基特的意思。他抓住特曼妮夫人的胳膊，拉着她朝房内走去。“来吧，夫人。”他说。

“只是一个灰头土脸的女仆，陛下。”特曼妮夫人回头叫道，“一个灰丫头！”

“国王陛下关心的不是她的身份，”侍卫长一边走进房子一边说，“而是她的脚。”

瑞拉还在唱歌，这时她听到了钥匙转动门锁的声音。门被打开了，看到了继母和一个穿着制服的男人，她的歌声便停住了。

“喏，”特曼妮夫人吼道，“就是个不起眼的丫头。”

瑞拉认出了眼前这个男人和他和善的目光。树林里和舞会他都在场。如果没记错的话，他就是侍卫长——基特的朋友！她的心怦怦跳得更快了。

“我们会搞清楚的。”侍卫长对特曼妮夫人说。他笑着对瑞拉说：“小姐，你必须要面见国王陛下。”

瑞拉看到继母的脸气得通红：“我不许你这么做！”特曼妮夫人大声叫道。

“我不许你阻拦她，”侍卫长回敬道。“你是谁呀？竟敢阻挡国王的军官？你是女皇吗？是圣人？还是神仙？”

“我是她母亲，”特曼妮夫人说道。

在那之前，瑞拉一直没有说话，她不敢说话，不知道发生了什么。但是听到母亲这个词，她站了出来。她不能容忍特曼妮夫人污蔑了母亲这个称呼。“你从来都不是我的母亲，你也不会成为我的母亲。”瑞拉斩钉截铁地说。

侍卫长点点头，向瑞拉伸出手来。“来吧，小姐。”他说道。

瑞拉挺直了肩膀走过房间，看都没看继母一眼。但这个女人还是在她耳边恶毒地说：“别忘了你是谁，你这个臭丫头！”

瑞拉没有理她。她径直走出阁楼走下了楼梯。特曼妮夫人最后的话在她耳边回响。马上就要见到基特了，她既兴奋又害怕。如果他知道了她的真实身份，不愿意娶她该怎么办呢？如果继母说得对，自己只是个不起眼的丫头，该怎么办？她在前门走廊里停了下来，紧张得浑身发抖，她前面是侍卫长，继母跟在她身后。

她凝视着房门，门外就是她的未来。是福是祸，是从此过上幸福的生活，还是继续不幸下去。但是那一刻，瑞拉清楚意识到自己不能被特曼妮夫人的话吓倒。她不是个无名小卒。她是个仁慈而善良的人，哪怕是对特曼妮夫人那样的恶人。就算自己饿着肚子，她也会把小老鼠喂饱。她是个坚强而勇敢的人，她勇于为正确的事情挺身而出，从不畏惧。她是个会令父母骄傲的人。

瑞拉深吸了一口气，迈出最后几步，打开了房门。门外站着的正是基特。她的目光与基特相遇了。

“你是谁？”他问道。基特仔细看着她，脸上逐渐露出恍然大悟的表情。

“我是灰姑娘，”瑞拉自豪地说。因为现在灰姑娘已经成为她的一部分，将来也会这样。她不会再觉得这个名字让她难堪。相反，她会欣然接受这个名字。不管是瑞拉还是灰姑娘，她应经变成自己想成为的人。“陛下，我不是什么公主。我没有马车，也没有礼服。没有父母，没有嫁妆。我甚至都不知道能不能穿上那只美丽的水晶鞋。但是如果能穿上，您能不能接受一个真正的我——一个爱着你的诚实的乡下姑娘？”

周围一片沉默。有那么一会儿，瑞拉有点担心自己是不是说得太多了。但是接着她看到了基特欣喜的眼神。“我愿意，”说着他跪下来，拿出了那只水晶鞋。

基特轻柔而缓慢地把鞋穿在瑞拉脚上。这个动作让他和瑞拉都想起了在那个难忘的夜晚瑞拉坐在秋千上的情景。鞋子穿在瑞拉脚上正合适，不大不小，不肥不瘦，众人惊讶得禁不住吸了一口。基特抬起头看着瑞拉的眼睛笑了。透过基特的眼睛，瑞拉看到了他眼中的自己——不是舞会上那个光彩照人的女孩，而是国王基特深爱的女人。他眼里的她，美丽出众，光芒四射。她坚强又勇敢，仁慈又善良。她将成为王后。

基特站起身，他抓住瑞拉的手紧紧握着。仆人和侍卫在旁边纷纷鞠躬致意。一阵紧张不安之后，连特曼妮夫人和她的女儿们也行了屈膝礼，尽管她们那样做的时候看起来十分痛苦。

“灰姑娘，”崔西里亚叫道。

“瑞拉，”安泰西亚极力要讨这个妹妹欢心，赶忙改口。“我们很抱歉！”

“原谅我们吧，”崔西里亚大声说。

瑞拉看了看这两个女孩，微笑了一下。她的笑未置可否，让姐姐们忐忑不安。但是瑞拉已经原谅她们了。她永远无法像她们对待自己那样对待她们。但是此刻，她还是想要让她们紧张一会儿。毕竟，她不是完美的人……