75 Cinderella

75 Cinderella
(Ella's POV)

I ran all the way back to the main building with my skirt lifted, my heart still racing from the close call.

The night breeze from the garden still clung to my skin, cool against the thin sheen of sweat on my forehead. Only when I stepped back into the second-floor corridor, my feet touching the soft carpet, did I finally dare slow my pace.

The hallway was empty. Crystal wall sconces cast warm yellow light, creating gentle halos on the floor. I leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, and waited for my heartbeat to settle before continuing forward.

Pushing open the guest room door, everything remained quiet inside. The curtains were half-drawn, moonlight leaking through the gaps to paint a thin silver line across the carpet. The maid still slept deeply beside the sofa in exactly the same position I'd left her—face turned to the side, arm dangling over the armrest, breathing steady and deep, her chest rising and falling gently with no sign of waking.

I quietly closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Dorian's sudden appearance had delayed me—I hoped Kyle wouldn't worry.

I had no time for further thought and quickly took out the remaining white gown. According to banquet etiquette, women typically prepared multiple outfits to handle spilled drinks or other emergencies.

I swiftly removed the deep blue dress. Though convenient for action, it was no longer suitable for the ball.

The new gown's pure white satin felt cool to the touch, its soft skirt falling naturally to my ankles with a perfectly fitted waistline. Unlike the lively yellow dress or the mature blue one, this added quiet gentleness. The shallow round neckline revealed my collarbone and the necklace chain, though I kept the pendant hidden beneath the fabric.

I simply arranged my hair in the mirror. Half of my brown locks were pinned up, the rest cascading over my shoulders. I refastened the hairpins and double-checked the vials hidden in my skirt's interior—hallucination, smoke, hemostatic—all there. The stoppers were secure with no damage.

After confirming nothing was missed, I took out another transparent vial.

This was the antidote to the earlier disguise potion. I uncorked it, and the cool liquid carried faint mint and the distinctive bitterness of certain herbs. Familiar magic flowed through my body as golden hair returned to its original brown inch by inch from the roots, pupils shifting back to deep brown. Even my facial features subtly returned to their natural gentle curves—the spacing between my brows and eyes, the line of my nose, the thickness of my lips, all seemed gently molded back into place by invisible hands.

I touched my face and cleared my throat—my voice had also returned to normal.

Only after confirming the disguise was completely removed did I kneel and gently feed the antidote to the maid. The pale green liquid slid past her lips as her throat moved, swallowing it down.

Soon, her long lashes trembled slightly before her eyes snapped open.

She looked around in confusion, then as if suddenly realizing something, her face went deathly pale and she sprang up from beside the sofa.

"Oh, oh my!" She stood hastily, her knee hitting the nearby small table.

"Miss, I'm sorry!" Her voice carried tears as she frantically straightened her disheveled skirt and hair. "I don't know why... I actually fell asleep! This is dereliction of duty. Please don't tell the steward, I..."

She kept bowing to me, her eyes already red with distress, tears threatening to fall from her lashes.

I quickly steadied her arm. "It's fine."

I gave her a reassuring smile, trying to keep my voice light and natural. "You're probably just tired from today. Anyone would be exhausted after preparing for such a long banquet."

"But—"

"See, I've already changed my dress, haven't I?" I stepped back and spun before her, the white skirt flaring gently. "My hair is arranged and my makeup isn't smudged. Everything's perfect."

The maid looked up, seeing I was indeed properly prepared. Her gaze traveled from head to toe, her expression visibly relaxing though guilt remained as she pressed her lips together, fingers twisting at her apron's edge.

"Really... I haven't delayed you?"

"Not at all." I gently patted her hand, feeling her slight trembling. "Everything's ready now. Shall we go down?"

She nodded repeatedly, took a deep breath, quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve, then helped arrange my skirt.

"Then... Miss, I'll escort you to the hall." Her voice still trembled but had steadied considerably.

"Good."

She walked ahead, opening the door for me.

Just as we reached the stairway, all the hall lights suddenly dimmed.

As if someone had simultaneously snuffed every candle, the brilliant crystal chandeliers extinguished in sequence—starting from the distant side halls, one by one, light gathering inward layer by layer until even the corridor wall sconces darkened. Only the most dazzling beam remained in the hall's center, pouring down from the dome to illuminate that circular area bright as day.

All guests simultaneously stopped talking. The sounds of clinking glasses, whispers, and laughter vanished instantly. Dozens of eyes turned toward the hall's center.

I followed the light and saw Dorian standing there.

Only now did I truly see his appearance clearly.

Earlier in the garden, the night had been too dark—I'd only glimpsed a vague silhouette and overly bright eyes.

Now standing in the brilliantly lit hall center, he seemed gilded with soft golden radiance. Platinum hair was saturated with light, every strand gleaming with delicate luster. His skin was inhumanly smooth and refined, without a trace of time's passage around his eyes. His nose was straight, lips thin and rosy, jawline clean and sharp.

Without knowing his age beforehand, I'd never believe this man was thirty-five.

He looked barely twenty, young to an almost eerie degree.

I suddenly remembered the guests' earlier gossip.

"These past few days, he seems much younger..."

So what had happened recently? Something involving mermaids or mysterious merchants?

The thought flashed through my mind before I suppressed it. Now wasn't the time for such speculation.

I looked away, keeping my head down as I quietly apologized to guests in my path, weaving through the crowd until I reached Colin's side.

Colin turned, seeing me return safely, his expression softening slightly.

"How did it go?" he asked quietly, lips barely moving.

I nodded lightly, answering at a volume only he could hear. "Everything went smoothly."

Colin imperceptibly relaxed.

But the next second, his gaze fell on my dress and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Why did you change clothes?"

I looked down at the white dress, whispering, "Some unexpected situations arose. I'll explain later."

Colin nodded without changing expression, returning his attention to the hall center. He stood straight, palm gently supporting my arm in the perfect posture of a knight.

We turned our attention back to the hall's center.

Dorian was speaking, standing in that spotlight with relaxed posture and a smile playing at his lips. His voice was deep and clear, guests occasionally laughing softly or nodding in agreement—the atmosphere was quite harmonious.

But I heard none of it. All my attention was on the bell tower.

Had Kyle found Maris? The tower's internal structure was complex—would the Church have posted guards there? If something happened to him... if he were discovered...

Too much worry made it impossible to maintain my smile.

The hall's laughter, music, and clinking glasses seemed muffled by thick water, reaching my ears blurred and distant. Every second felt especially long.

Finally applause erupted, signaling Dorian's speech had ended.

"Next, it's time to dance~"

Dorian bowed slightly to the guests in elegant acknowledgment, then stepped aside, immediately surrounded by several nobles in fine dress.

Melodious dance music filled the hall. Strings and wind instruments wove together in smooth, cheerful melodies as guests moved toward the dance floor, skirts swirling and laughter ringing.

According to our original plan, I'd dance the first dance with Colin.

He took my hand and led me onto the floor, his other hand lightly resting at my waist. His steps remained steady, hitting every beat perfectly. Turns, pauses, side steps flowed as if practiced thousands of times. But my footwork remained somewhat distracted, my gaze unconsciously scanning around the hall.

Colin's thumb pressed gently on my hand.

"Don't look around," he said quietly, lips nearly touching my ear. "Stay calm, Ella."

I withdrew my gaze, forcing myself to focus on his shoulder insignia. The silver-threaded thorn emblem gleamed under the lights.

"I'm a bit worried," I whispered.

"It's not time yet. Wait a little longer."

As the song ended, I lifted my skirt in a small curtsy.

"I'd like to rest for a moment." My voice was somewhat hoarse.

Colin noticed my tension and didn't insist, simply accompanying me to sit in a nearby rest area. He fetched me a glass of honey wine, which I held but didn't drink.

But just then, from across the hall, Dorian actually walked directly toward Colin.

I immediately turned away, pretending to agonize over dessert selections.

Colin and Dorian conversed briefly nearby.

I saw Dorian smile and pat Colin's shoulder before turning away.

Colin watched him leave, then approached me.

And in his hands was the shoe I'd lost while running!

"Colin, this..."

I never expected Dorian to find the shoe!

Colin immediately interrupted. "Ella, have you seen this shoe?"

I noticed curious glances around us and maintained an expression of interest. "What a lovely shoe~ But I haven't seen it. Did Dorian give this to you?"

Colin nodded, looking somewhat helpless. "Yes, Dorian asked me to find the shoe's owner."

I widened my eyes. "How on earth could you find them? Did Dorian give any other clues?"

Surrounding nobles also came to examine the shoe.

"Dorian gave this to you?"

"What's the big deal? The shoe isn't even that pretty—the owner's probably quite plain~"

"Don't talk nonsense, this is a woman Dorian took notice of!"

"Must have been poor lighting—Dorian didn't see clearly!"

Someone stepped forward, interrupting the discussion. "Alright, alright, stop talking. Colin, what else did Dorian say?"

Colin showed a slightly embarrassed smile. "Dorian said he wants to find his Cinderella."

I couldn't help stepping back. Good heavens, what was Dorian trying to do?!