text: [Themes: Fantasy, conversation, Cinderella, fairy tale, animal protagonist]
  
  > look around
  You give the place a once-over with your right eye. Then you turn your head and look at everything through your left eye. It doesn't make any difference. The farther parts of the room remain out of focus.
  
  The Prince frowns at Cinderella. "I don't recall seeing you at the ball."
  
  "No?" she asks, with that funny triangular smile of hers. "We were introduced. Perhaps I did not make an impression."
  
  He frowns, and you can see that he is considering asking her to try the shoe. The silence is sharp. But he realizes -- or does he? -- that her face is wrong.
  
  She waits.
  
  The Prince frowns at Cinderella a little longer, then seems to reach some decision.
  
  "This business of the shoe is nonsense," he remarks. "I've no business to be choosing a wife so arbitrarily."
  
  "And all your heirs would have such small feet," Theodora contributes.
  
  "Yes, that would be-- terrible," the Prince says. "In fact, I think--" He turns and hurls the slipper against the wall, where it splinters into dozens of sparkling pieces. There is a great sigh in the room, and the old lady actually laughs.
  
  The Prince's gaze lingers on Cinderella. She looks back at him, her chin tilted up. "There are things my father need not know. Though I also would not lie to him about anything that I knew for certain."
  
  "A commendable attitude," says the old lady briskly. "And now I am having a brandy. Would anyone else care for a nip?"
  
  > say yourself
  "Awwwk!" you say. "Pretty bird!"
  
  Cinderella smiles, and comes over to where you are, and pets the top of your head and whispers cossetting things in a language only you understand. Your heart is filled with sweetness.
  
  The Prince frowns at Cinderella a little longer, then seems to reach some decision.
  
  "This business of the shoe is nonsense," he remarks. "I've no business to be choosing a wife so arbitrarily."
  
  "And all your heirs would have such small feet," Theodora contributes.
  
  "Yes, that would be-- terrible," the Prince says. "In fact, I think--" He turns and hurls the slipper against the wall, where it splinters into dozens of sparkling pieces. There is a great sigh in the room, and the old lady actually laughs.
  
  The Prince's gaze lingers on Cinderella. She looks back at him, her chin tilted up. "There are things my father need not know. Though I also would not lie to him about anything that I knew for certain."
  
  "A commendable attitude," says the old lady briskly. "And now I am having a brandy. Would anyone else care for a nip?"
  
  > say the babies
  "NEED BABIES," you say. "Heirs to the kingdom, heirs to the kingdom!"
  
  Blood rushes up into the Prince's cheeks. He doesn't look your way.
  
  "It's so fortunate," says the old lady. "That you're of an age -- that is, that the King has been so blessed with an heir who can follow in his footsteps when the time comes, which we all hope will be--"
  
  Realizing she has led herself into a diplomatic difficulty, she sighs. "God has truly blessed our little kingdom."
  
  > say god
  "God!" you exclaim. All eyes turn slowly towards you.
  
  "Heavens," says the Prince mildly. "A pet with theological leanings. How unusual. You're most fortunate in your domesticated animals, madam."
  
  The old lady gives you a long, narrow-eyed look. Apparently she does not share the Prince's feelings on that topic.
  
  "Now I have heard a rumor," says the old lady, pretending that this conversation topic just now occurred to her, rather than being the object of her determined pursuit for the last half hour. "A rumor that you yourself were planning to wed, in the very near future."
  
  Theodora leans closer to the Prince, who tucks his hands more protectively around the slipper.
  
  "There are a great many rumors," he says.
  
  > say gay
  You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.
  
  "It's true, you know, that my father threw the ball in the hope that I would-- that is, that it would lead to a greater acquaintance--" The Prince stops again, rattled, and glares down at the small shoe cradled in his hands. "I had not been very attentive to ladies in my youth."
  
  The old lady looks very strange at that remark. "Well-- my dear boy--" she begins. "I am glad you feel comfortable-- that is, I will not mention-- if you feel you prefer--"
  
  He blinks thick girlish lashes, and you see why she is worried. "No, I didn't mean that I have a preference for boys, madam," he remarks, more at his ease now that she is uncomfortable. "Only that I have been very much occupied with other concerns, and not..."
  
  He gestures. The shoe almost slips off its pillow. He catches it just in time.
  
  > say yourself
  "Awk!" you say. "Nice bird! Adorable bird!"
  
  "I suppose it wishes to advocate a greater interest in aviary concerns?" the Prince asks, looking at you with curiosity.
  
  "I wouldn't credit it with nearly that much intelligence," says the old lady. Witch.
  
  > think
  Related ideas flit through your brain: nothing.
  
  There's an uncomfortable silence as everyone tries to think of a sensible direction for the conversation to take from here.
  
  "Mm, we were speaking of ball," says a Prince.
  
  > say Cinderella
  "Awk!" you say. "Cinderella!"
  
  There is the crack of a summoning: and there she stands, in the doorway, the secret daughter, the enchantress.
  
  "May I present my third daughter," says the old lady, very dryly.
  
  The Prince fumbles to his feet.
  
  "Do you recognize her?" the old lady asks.
  
  "I-- we've never met," says the Prince, looking puzzled. "I would have thought, as long as I have known your family, I would have--"
  
  "She likes to keep to herself. Except, of course, when she surprises us all, and goes out. Come in, Cinderella," says the lady. Lucinda squirms on the sofa.
  
  And in she walks, looking a little as though she has just been woken. The color rises in her cheeks when she looks at the Prince.
  
  > say the magic
  "Awwk!" you say. "Magic!"
  
  "Magic magic magic," you sing. "Witch, enchantress..."
  
  Cinderella swallows, but the Prince shrugs impatiently. "I had guessed as much," he says to you. And to her: "I suppose you have looked-- another way than this?"
  
  She nods, and takes the glass slipper from his hand.
  
  "Don't," says the old lady, reaching for her wrist; missing. "They can't-- without proof they won't..."
  
  Cinderella puts it on, turning her ankle to watch the effect. The change sweeps up through her, making her taller, more perfect, almost inhumanly beautiful.
  
  The Prince drops his hand.
  
  "You need not have done that," he says. "You could have broken it. Lied to me. Remained hidden." His jaw works. "Didn't you understand that--"
  
  "She understands," says the old lady, rising from her chair. "I told her. We all told her. She hoped that you would understand her secret but have the wit not to put her to the test." Her fingers dig into the chairback. "I'm afraid the rest of us -- not being in love with you, you see -- we had less faith in your intuition. We thought perhaps we might distract you with one of the other two. One of the plainly... non-magical ones."
  
  The Prince swallows. He is crying: not very man-like. "You see I cannot conceal this; it would be treason, now I have seen this witchcraft with my own eyes..."
  
  Cinderella backs away. "I have no truck with devils," she says. "I was gifted or cursed in my nature, that is all. I cannot make it go away -- the power remains with me."
  
  "It's true," says Lucinda. "We poured holy water on her every day for a year."
  
  "But the law," says the Prince.
  
  "You're an idiot," says the old lady. "You knew what you might find. If you loved her at all, you would not have come looking."
  
  > say the shit
  You squawk very loudly.
  
  "If that happens again," says the old woman to you, "we will sell you to the first man with an earring we can find."
  
  Lucinda's cheeks go pink.
  
  There is a long thoughtful silence. The Prince frowns at Cinderella. "I don't recall seeing you at the ball."
  
  "No?" she asks, with that funny triangular smile of hers. "We were introduced. Perhaps I did not make an impression."
  
  He frowns, and you can see that he is considering asking her to try the shoe. The silence is sharp. But he realizes -- or does he? -- that her face is wrong.
  
  She waits.
  
  > say the sex
  You stumble over that unfamiliar term and it just comes out a birdlike cry.
  
  "Would you mind trying this shoe?" the Prince asks, quite politely.
  
  She nods, and takes the glass slipper from his hand.
  
  "Don't," says the old lady, reaching for her wrist; missing. "They can't-- without proof they won't..."
  
  Cinderella puts it on, turning her ankle to watch the effect. The change sweeps up through her, making her taller, more perfect, almost inhumanly beautiful.
  
  The Prince drops his hand.
  
  "You need not have done that," he says. "You could have broken it. Lied to me. Remained hidden." His jaw works. "Didn't you understand that--"
  
  "She understands," says the old lady, rising from her chair. "I told her. We all told her. She hoped that you would understand her secret but have the wit not to put her to the test." Her fingers dig into the chairback. "I'm afraid the rest of us -- not being in love with you, you see -- we had less faith in your intuition. We thought perhaps we might distract you with one of the other two. One of the plainly... non-magical ones."
  
  The Prince swallows. He is crying: not very man-like. "You see I cannot conceal this; it would be treason, now I have seen this witchcraft with my own eyes..."
  
  Cinderella backs away. "I have no truck with devils," she says. "I was gifted or cursed in my nature, that is all. I cannot make it go away -- the power remains with me."
  
  "It's true," says Lucinda. "We poured holy water on her every day for a year."
  
  "But the law," says the Prince.
  
  "You're an idiot," says the old lady. "You knew what you might find. If you loved her at all, you would not have come looking."
  
  > say fuck
  "Right," says the old lady. And she rings for a servant to remove you from the room.