Keep going.


    My heart raced as I yearned for Alma to go faster than what had ever been possible. My legs crashed against her as I was lifted and thrown back down from the unstable saddle, gripping tight in fears of falling off at the slightest manoeuvre.


    Ana guided me through the pathless grass, around the perimeter of the outer walls where we had to keep our heads down. The guards above had no reason to believe Prince Andres and Ana Gabriel had possibly escaped captivity, not in a cell where the most dangerous beasts in Mendessa were once suppressed. Still, we kept our faces hidden, ducking so low on our steed that our faces were practically buried into their manes.


    The challenge came at the palace entrance, which was left open but swarming with advisors and guards.


    Go, Alma. Go so fast that we are nothing but a blur.


    I closed my eyes with alerted ears until I could feel the wood of the drawbridge thudding beneath Alma''s hooves, and then the tapping of the city''s uneven cobblestone.


    I dared to look ahead at Ana, who had been lucky to choose such a swift charger, which was muscular yet thin enough to surpass the tight alleyways with ease, using its mighty presence to force people to move at a second''s notice. Alma followed suit, utilising the path created ahead to try to catch up to the azteca''s tail. At several moments, I could not watch, fearful that Alma might just clash against a blind or deaf civilian, or fall into a market stall spilling dangerously close to the road. I listened to the havoc I and Ana were causing; people shouting out, screaming with terror; tiny obstacles left in the road crushed breath eight iron horseshoes.


    I jolted again, suddenly feeling as though I was about to be sick.


    Keep holding on.


    My hands tightened. I sunk my face into my shirt, avoiding eye contact with every judging look around me. We were attracting far more attention than desired, but with my father''s men circling like vultures up on the rooftops, we could not risk being recognised. It was broad daylight - we could not give those men a single second to see our faces, if our lives depended on it.


    "Almost there!" Ana called out, stopping herself before she yelled my name out for all to hear. I still did not dare to look - not until silence and loneliness surrounded us, and our horses came to a complete stop.


    We reached the hill below Del Flores manor, finding ourselves looking up again at its grandeur. I was determined to not let my nerves and exhaustion get the better of me that time, and so, I began to march upwards, ignoring the bruises and the ache that still persisted in my legs.


    "So, what, are we just going to knock on the front door?" Ana pressed as though I was insane.


    "No. We are going to break in."


    Her eyes widened. Usually, that would be because the idea of breaking in might have excited her, but in that case, she had become fully convinced that I was beyond saving.


    "I''m just joking," I laughed, "but we are going to knock on the door."


    She pulled me away. Her eyes had become the size of the Sun, but she could not utter a reaction. I explained myself. "We are going to say that we need to double-check the house. Then, we search for ourselves."


    "And if she doesn''t let us in?" Ana said, but quickly came up with a solution of her own, "Say that you want to marry one of the twins!"


    "No!" I protested.


    "She''ll let you in then!"


    "But she definitely wouldn''t want me to find anyone hidden after that!"


    I argued with Ana in circles as we walked up, coming to no solutions without a variety of potential problems.


    "What if we threaten to kill her?"


    "Ana, no."


    "What if we actually do kill her?"


    "We can''t just kill somebody for not letting us inside!"


    "Okay, how about we torture the information out of her?"


    "How will we even get in in the first place?"


    "We could break in."


    "I thought you were against that idea."


    We suddenly hushed as we found ourselves at the front garden. With no plan but no time to loiter and wait to be found, we approached the door, trying our best to appear put-together. I stuck out my chest, but felt it quiver as though it wanted to shrivel and die. I brushed back my sweat-greased hair with my fingers, nervous that Cinderella might notice the forced confidence in my voice or the unkemptness of my appearance. I raised my hand to knock on the door, but my arm froze with fear.


    "Wait, what is the plan-"


    Ana impatiently rapped her knuckles loudly against the door before I even had time to consider our scheme.


    All we could do was wait.


    Desperately, I racked through my mind to think of what exactly I had to say once the door was inevitably answered. I thought of Gloria Del Flores'' heels tapping down the staircase, one after the other, growing closer and closer with each one. Adrenaline burned in my stomach, but through it, I forced an uncomfortable smile, preparing myself for the absolute worst bluff possibly attempted in all of human history. I thought of myself next to my father and grandfather in legend, not hailed as a great hero or warrior, but as the man who made the biggest oaf of himself, so terribly that he merely turned into a puddle and died at the scene.


    I could practically hear the footsteps.


    Four. Three. Two. One.


    My breath halted.


    I continued staring at the scarlet door, mimicking its hardened stillness. There was no shadow beneath it - no presence on the other side. Yet, I did not feel safe at all.


    Ana groaned and peered into the living room window without an ounce of discreteness.


    "She''s not here. None of them are."


    I let out a breath.


    "Are you sure?"


    She stepped away and squinted up at the window above.


    "It''s boiling out. They would keep the windows open if they were in. But they''re closed. They probably wouldn''t want someone breaking in while they''re out."The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    And finding something they shouldn''t.


    "Breaking in?" I repeated. Ana flashed a rebellious smile, as though I had given her permission.


    "Breaking in."


    I followed her around the side of the building, where we would not be exposed to the view below. Around the sides and back of the Countess'' avery, I flinched at the shadows of birds flapping from place to place, fearing that somehow, one of the shadows could be Gloria taking notice of us. Ana gritted her teeth as she stepped bare-footed on the thistles of sweet-smelling yellow poppies, accompanied by pineapple sage which masked an unusual undertone in the air.


    We reached a window into an empty office. Before I even had time to consider, Ana had taken a shovel and smashed it into the glass. I winced immediately, ready to run, but no other noise followed. She swept aside the broken pieces with the padding of her sock-bandage, and climbed inside with ease. Gingerly, I rose my leg up to the frame, and used it and my hand to boost myself over, almost slipping and slicing my arm on a shard of glass in the process. I tried my hardest not to cry out, holding onto the wound in agony. My eyes were tightly shut as Ana used a shard to rip up my shirt''s bloody sleeve and use it as a temporary tourniquet. The two of us looked like the mummified kings of Alahra, had they lost their dignity and been wrapped in just about anything they could find.


    The office, although small and hidden away, was dripping with the same opulence as the rest of the manor. The walls were painted a deep garnet colour, but almost completely covered with different-sized portraits of endangered species, most of which were credited to the late Count Fabián Del Flores. Despite his eerie presence in the room, it was clear that it had not been left untouched by his wife. On the desk, a quill rested in a half-used glass pot of ink, beside a candle with a freshly-burnt wick. Letters from lords and fellow conservationists addressed Gloria directly, asking about the birds in the avery and inquiring about her plans to build a sanctuary for an endangered breed of snake. The language in the letters were respectful; singing her praises; making it hard for me to not feel utter guilt at my accusations. Gloria Del Flores had clearly done much for these animals, and was doing well to continue her husband''s legacy.


    A wave of unease hit me - what if she was harbouring a feathered serpent? What would happen to all those creatures? Or alternatively, what if she was innocent after all?


    Both outcomes seemed bleak. But the damage had already been done.


    I pushed myself away from the desk, but a sudden sharpness attacked my injured arm once more and I lost my balance. With a split second to react, I went to hold onto the candle for support.


    It leaned forward with me, making a creaking sound.


    Ana stared.


    The candle, like a lever, was built into the desk, able to move back and forth. Weary of the contraption, I pulled it back, until it was standing still once more.


    "Do it again." Ana said apprehensively.


    I did as she said until I heard a click.


    With the lever forward, I pulled it towards me, and stepped back, feeling the desk''s unexpected lightness as it slid away from the wall, carrying a patch of the floor with it. I took more steps, slowly revealing more and more of what was hidden, watching as the floor slid away to reveal a staircase far below the manor.


    "A secret staircase?" Ana said. Suspicion hung in the air, humid and uneasy, making me question any possible reasons for it to exist. I tried to think on the positive side, thinking that perhaps it was to hide some rare creatures that people may want to find.


    The only creature in my mind, though, was the feathered serpent.


    Ana went ahead of me fearlessly. She took her first steps down, expecting a creak. Against expectations, they did not make a sound.


    I followed close behind, noticing the steps'' polish, as though they were built somewhat recently. The walls cramped at my sides, too, were glazed with something which smelled like a mixture of fresh plant dye and human musk.


    Ana looked at every little detail with suspicion, reluctant to progress further unless she knew we would not be caught in a deadly trap. She ensured that if either of us were to die, she would die for the prince, as if that was still her duty despite being stripped of her knighthood. I did not wish to think of such a thing; not for either of us.


    We came to an unpainted door, latched shut. Ana held her ear to it, until she was sure that nothing waited on the other side. She fiddled somewhat violently with the latch, and then the door opened silently on its own.


    The shudder of cold from within wafted at me. At first, it was cooling, but it quickly became unbearable. For the first time in months, I felt my bones chill as I entered the room, wedging the door open with a loose stone.


    The cellar was dim and undecorated, save for an ash-coated fireplace and a thin mattress on the floor, bundled with blankets. On the side of the mattress, a book had been left upside down, open on the first few pages. It was worn with some age but much usage, with fingerprints squished into the leather, reminding me of how I, too, would hold a book tightly when I was deeply invested. The cover, although it had been stripped of its golden foil, had markings where such foil had once shone. I picked it up, curious, and saw the title which had been rubbed away:


    ''Rapunzel''.


    I started immediately and turned the book until I was face to face with its pages, annotated with a mixture of new ink and old pencil, underlining the words its owner cherished.


    ''The witch took Rapunzel''s freedom, and she took away all the things that led her curiosity away from the tower she was kept. But she, nor could anyone, take away Rapunzel''s dreams. Rapunzel''s imagination grew by the day, just like the long, golden hair that sprouted from her head.''


    With a finger over this savoured page, I flicked to the front, to see a message scrawled in delicate handwriting.


    ''To my daughter,


    Happy 10th birthday.


    Love from papa.''


    My eyes widened. Count Del Flores'' daughter was there, somewhere, alive but locked away. And that book, the very same Cinderella had gushed about, only strengthened the theory I had kept sacred out of fear of speaking it to life.


    I flipped back to where she had left off, focusing on the dreamily uneven lines she had left under her favourite passages. My heart lightened a little, forgetting my situation. Was it possible that Cinderella was rereading the book to remember me by? Could it be that she felt the same way that I did?


    I placed the book carefully where it had been, leaving its warmth from the tip of my fingers. Ana was over the fireplace, eyeing a small collection of books which had been left to collect dust. They were other fantastical tales I''d heard of before, stacked in a neat little collection in alphabetical order. But everything else in the room, from the walls to the floor to the ceiling, was stone gray - the picture of a depressed existence. The hard, cold floor had been swept with a brush made of sticks which leaned in the corner of the room, covering a hole where some mice had somehow managed to chew their way through. It was not like any other cellar - which would often store wine or food for safekeeping against the Sun''s heat. And it was not even the main cellar of the Del Flores mansion - their food cellar had been checked by the likes of Ana when we visited last. This was a secret. A cell for an innocent woman. But why Gloria Del Flores would keep someone restrained there remained a mystery.


    "What kind of room is this?" Ana questioned, but I didn''t have a clear answer. Instead, I was distracted by the blackened fireplace, where an unusual glint had caught my eye.


    I approached it slowly, and pushed away the frozen chunks of coal until I could see a curve of stained glass. Gasping, I quickened my pace, pulling the fireplace apart until there was no longer any coal left upon it. Carefully buried in the rubble - hidden in a place where no one could find it - was fearful, but elating validation.


    "The other glass slipper."


    Ana scampered behind me, not believing what she had heard. But sure enough, in all the details I had studied over and over again, it was the very same shoe. I brushed away the ash which had collected over its bright colours, turning my hands black.


    "Cinders." I whispered to myself. All of a sudden, the unusual pseudonym ''Cinderella'' made sense, and all the things I had seen clicked together to confirm my thoughts.


    "So she is here! Andres, you were right!" Ana beamed, all her energy rejuvenated by the news. She paced from left to right, looking for clues; searching for any sign that Ynez might be there too. At once, she spotted something. "Look!"


    I put down the slipper and followed her finger''s direction. On the floor, leading to another door with five keyholes, were footprints made by cinder-coated shoes.


    I placed my finger over the keyholes. They were an assortment of different shapes and sizes - made so that no one could possibly enter whatever room Gloria Del Flores was keeping. Like a fool, I knocked, but no answer came from the other side. Ana stood beside me, shuffling her feet with discomfort once they came close to the tiny gap at the bottom of the door.


    "It must be like a wind tunnel in there."


    I lowered my hand and felt the harsh cold breezing through.


    "Would it connect to the other cellar?" I asked.


    "The other cellar didn''t have a door in it." Ana answered, folding her arms from the chill.


    Although I thought it pointless, I twisted the doorknob, but miraculously, the door opened with all five keys left unlocked on the other side.


    I felt the icy breeze immediately as the door flew open. Ahead, was nothing but a pitch black tunnel, with no end to it in sight. I took a deep breath and proceeded to enter, but not before Ana took her place in front of me once again.


    "Ynez?" She called out, walking far faster than I was and less cautious than she had been before, "Ynez? It''s Ana."


    I tried to shush her, but it was clear that we were alone. I felt the light behind me melt away, until we were walking down an endless abyss, winding against the walls which turned us slowly from left to right. I could feel myself shivering, but it was not just the cold that was making me do so. Moreso, it was the emptiness and the fear of where we would be led; the fear of what dark secret was being kept so fiercely from outsiders.


    I drifted my hands off the sides of the walls, listening to Ana''s footsteps to guide me. Many times, I accidentally stepped on her heels with an instant apology, but she never made any noise that showed she cared all that much. Her feet had become numbed from the cold and from the other pains which seized her all at once, especially when blasted with a mighty breeze which smelled more and more like the iron bars we had sawed through the further we travelled.


    Just as disorientation truly took hold of the both of us, Ana called out once more.


    "Ynez? Cinderella?"


    "I don''t think they''re here." I regretted to say. As the silence endured, I felt my stomach grow heavy with unease. Perhaps I was right - the women we were seeking were not hidden in the pitch-black cavern. But someone - or something - definitely was. I could feel it. I felt the very same dread that I had felt in my dream as it came crawling back. I tried to shake it off, telling myself that perhaps the hairs on my neck sticking up may have just been a result of the cold. But it felt so similar to how I had felt when I was face-to-face with the feathered serpent in my nightmare. A presence - not Ana''s or my own - was definitely there.


    "Ynez?" Ana called again. That time, it echoed.


    I felt the wind turn still and my footsteps beneath me lighten, followed by their echo. We had found some kind of room, but it was impossible to see exactly what it was.


    "Is anyone here?" Ana said, apprehension bubbling up inside her. I could tell that she was growing aware of the presence too.


    Something shuffled. I flinched. A gasp left my lips.


    Something scratched against the wall behind me. I felt goosebumps take over my body, knowing that Ana had not made that sound.


    "Who''s here?" Ana spoke as clearly as she possibly could, given her shuddering. The wall scraped again. "Show yourself!"


    Another scratch. A spark behind us lit up. A dim glow flickered and wobbled behind me. A flame. I turned around.


    Holding a candle below her gaunt face was none other than Gloria Del Flores herself.