Author's note: Sorry it's been a while. It died, but now it's back to life and I know how I want to write it. Yay! Please review if you like it, or if you didn't, or if you didn't read it... no, please do read it.
The characters are mine, the fairy tales involved are not... hmm, can anyone tell that I've been writing fanfic for too long?

3: Drastic measures

The third night rolled around, just as she’d known it had to. More than anything, she wished she could stop time, but she knew it was useless. Six thirty would roll around, and she would once more be stuck dancing with Maximillian. The last two nights had done nothing to improver her opinion of him, and the thought of marrying him made her almost physically sick.

By the time the clock struck five, she was convinced that she would not survive. After all, if he married her, he would kill her of boredom, and if he didn’t, the others would kill her because she’d broken tradition. There was no way out of it. She began to plan.

“Hey Dani?” she asked when her fairy Godmother had appeared (accompanied by green smoke, this time).

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you could make the shoes a half size bigger? They seem a bit too tight.”

Dani looked at her suspiciously, but shrugged. “Sure. Where are they?”

Cecilia gestured under the bed. Dani bent down and pulled them out, frowning. “I could have sworn they were the right size! You’re sure they’re too tight?”

Cecilia grinned conspiratorially at her. “Well, not really,” she admitted. “But if he thinks they’re my size…”

Dani nodded, understanding. “Then when you lose one of them, he won’t be able to give it to you.”

“Exactly.”

Dani bit her lip, looking at the shoes doubtfully. “That’s not technically allowed, you know. The shoes have to fit exactly.”

“Please?” Cecilia begged. “And can you make the ball gown out of this dress, not the rags?”

Dani’s eyes widened. “You’re planning on running away, aren’t you?”

Cecilia nodded.

“Where will you go?”

Cecilia shrugged. “I don’t know. Anywhere but here. On the other side of the mountains, maybe.”

“And how will you get there?”

She shrugged again. “I’m strong. I can walk.”

Dani bit her lip, looking Cecilia over. “Are you sure?”

“What choice do I have? There is No Way I am ever going to marry him, and, if I stay here, I won’t have a choice.”

“True,” Dani admitted slowly. She suddenly made up her mind, and grinned. “Okay, I’ll do it. Hand me those shoes.”

Cecilia grinned in relief and handed the shoes to Dani. The fairy Godmother in training closed her eyes, screwed up her face in concentration, and waved her wand. Remembering the other times she’d seen Dani cast spells, Dani watched warily from a safe distance. Nothing seemed to go wrong this time, though, and when Cecilia stuck a foot in the shoes, they slipped around nicely. She grinned. That should help.

“Take your dress off,” Dani ordered.

Cecilia blinked. “What?”

“You want me to change that one, don’t you?”

Cecilia nodded.

“Well, I can’t do it when you’re in it. Sorry, that’s just how it works.”

Cecilia sighed, but stripped and handed the dress to Dani. The girl got to work.

“You don’t mind red, do you?”

Cecilia shrugged. “Won’t you get in trouble for this?”

“What, the color? No. So long as it’s not black, no one cares.”

“No, helping me break the rules.”

Dani shrugged. “Maybe. But they always tell me that I’m supposed to help you and grant your wishes, and your dearest wish is to not marry the prince, isn’t it?”

Cecilia nodded.

“So, technically, I’m not actually doing anything wrong.”

“True,” Cecilia agreed.

Five minutes later, Cecilia was dressed in the red ball gown and the too big shoes. She was grinning as she climbed into the carriage. If they thought she was just going to accept her fate like some kind of sheep, they were going to be sorely disappointed.

Maximillian started in surprise at the color of her dress, but he didn’t say anything. Cecilia saw Elizabeta glowering, but she paid her mistress no attention. After all, after tonight, it wouldn’t matter what Elizabeta thought. Cecilia would be free of her.

“When are they going to announce the wedding?” Maximillian asked, as he maneuvered her skillfully around a clump of dancers.

“When you put the shoe on me,” she told him.

“And there is no way to get out of it?”

“No.” At least, not for him. Cecilia knew that, once it was established that she was not coming back, they would find a new servant girl for him to marry. She almost felt sorry for him. But then he started in on the technicalities of fencing and she realized that there was no point. He didn’t deserve her pity.

The clock finally crawled to eleven fifty, and she extracted herself from his loose hold, going up the stairs and, as she’d expected, losing one of the too big shoes in the pitch he’d spread on the stairs. The other stayed on, just barely, and she kicked it off. She didn’t need them any more. The carriage was waiting for her, but she ignored it and kept going.

She didn’t know how long she ran. It was long after midnight, because the ridiculous ball gown melted back into her everyday dress, but she had no idea how long it had been. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she keep running. They would come after her, eventually, and she had no intention of letting them catch her. They might not make her marry Maximillian (after all, who would want a disobedient servant girl for a wife?) but they would make her come back anyway. Far better just to keep running and hope she could get far enough away before morning.