“I want you to be my princess.” He lowered his eyes, looking at the floor.
Her feet were covered in wounds, and she was standing barefoot on the cold floor. Her hair was cut unevenly, showing no signs of any princess potential.
“Miss Gianna, I am now inviting you to accompany me to the ball tonight. You have ten minutes to prepare yourself. Remember, only ten minutes.” His words, though polite, were utterly irresistible. Just as he turned to leave, two burly maids entered without hesitation. They pinned her down on the bed and began dressing her.
Ten minutes later, he appeared at the door, already changed into a specially tailored black uniform of the SS. If it weren’t for the evil symbols, she might have thought this extremely fitted black suit was custom-made for some royal prince.
“My Cinderella has truly become a princess,” he said, his ice-blue eyes sparkling as he generously praised her. “But it seems Cinderella does not like her crystal shoes.”
“I can’t wear these shoes! If I’m going to a ball, give me a normal pair of shoes!” She glared at him fiercely. What Cinderella? Let those fairy tales go to hell; it was not some fairy godmother giving her shoes, but this devil! He was doing this to torment her. She was already unaccustomed to wearing such high-heeled shoes, especially since her feet were still covered in wounds from the broken glass last night. And those two burly women insisted on forcing her to wear these impossible shoes.
At his gesture, the two maids retreated. He slowly approached her, kneeling on one knee, gently slipping a shoe onto her left foot, the force so gentle it was irresistible. As the shoe slid onto her foot, she felt a sharp pain; her foot was being crushed by the hard shoe, causing unbearable agony. She bit her lip as he forced her wounded foot into the ten-centimeter-high crystal shoe.
“Very good, perfect.” He cradled her foot, trapped in the crystal shoe, a smile playing on his red lips.
“It hurts…” she couldn’t help but cry out, tears welling in her dark eyes.
“If it weren’t for your defiance last night, you wouldn’t be suffering now. But a little hardship is good for you; women must pay a price for beauty.” He slipped the other shoe onto her right foot, cradling her foot and kissing the arch that was bent in pain. “My little mermaid.”
“No, it hurts.” She could barely stand; he supported her with both hands, pulling her up. She lost her balance and fell toward him. He gently wrapped one arm around her slender waist, “What a passionate little thing; do you want to knock me down on the bed? Not yet; the driver is waiting for us downstairs.”
He dragged her down the stairs, limping, and stuffed her into a black car. Night fell, and it was dark around her; she had no idea where she was being taken until the car stopped in front of a magnificent castle. He gentlemanly exited first, opened the car door for her, and then, with polite words and a commanding tone, asked her to get out.
He led her into a brilliantly lit hall. Dressed in silk from her homeland, adorned with a precious purple marten shawl and a top-tier diamond necklace, she looked so delicate, graceful, and petite, with a hint of shyness and vulnerability, instantly attracting everyone’s attention. Undoubtedly, the women’s gazes were all on him, while the men looked at her.
“My little mermaid, you should be best at dancing barefoot on the edge of a knife.” He took her hand and stepped onto the flower-strewn red carpet under the watchful eyes of the crowd, seemingly kissing her cheek. “Smile; if I see a single tear from you, I will make you cry enough tonight.” He held her close and gracefully led her into the dance floor, swaying with the music.
Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she dared not let them fall. Her body was light, and her feet could move gracefully because she had studied ballet for two years. However, she was wearing those hateful crystal shoes, and her feet were covered in wounds. Even the slightest pressure on her feet sent sharp pain coursing through her. She instinctively leaned closer to him, allowing herself to rely more on his shoulder, relieving some weight from her feet. Finally, one piece ended, and he led her from the center of the dance floor to a resting area. He released her and temporarily stepped away; she leaned against a pillar, panting heavily.
“May I have this dance?” a sharply dressed officer approached her, politely asking.
“No, sir.” She leaned against the pillar, refusing to look up; her feet were in agony.
“But miss?” The officer was puzzled by her harsh refusal and smiled, intending to invite her further.
“I said ‘no’!” she shouted, no longer caring about manners or etiquette. This torment had turned her into a little shrew.
“Apologies, sir; she is my dance partner.” General Ryan stepped in front of the officer, took her hand, and pulled her into his embrace, leading her back to the center of the dance floor, whispering in her ear, “Your behavior has embarrassed me.”
She looked up at his handsome face, close enough for him to see the tears swirling in her dark eyes. “I have no obligation to dance with others; you said I was only your dance partner tonight.”
He glanced down at her feet, the flesh-colored lace stockings already stained with blood. He wrapped his arms around her waist with such force that her feet almost lifted off the ground, sliding her toward the terrace beside the hall.
“That’s right; you are my exclusive little mermaid.” He set her down on a chair, looking down at her with a smile, “If you continue to be as clever as you were this time, your days will be much better. Wait for me here.”
