The Cinderella Theorem by Kristee Ravan Page A

the inside information, I wasn’t able to enjoy the soup as
much as I would have if I’d known exactly how it fit into Smythian
society. [18]
    Beryl
(the amazingly prompt little green person), arrived at precisely twelve
forty-five to lead me to the throne room. It seemed a great deal less confusing
this time, but that was probably because we were able to take the elevator
marked Throne Room . When we got off the elevator, Beryl ushered me
through a doorway into another library. My parents were already there, and they
looked surprisingly royal.
     
    Surprisingly
royal = crowns, ermine fur lined capes, and scepters.
     
    “You
look lovely, Lily,” my father beamed.
    “Thanks,”
I murmured. As irrational as it sounds, I was starting to be excited about
being presented.
    “Alright,
Lily. This is what’s going to happen.” Mom placed a sparkling tiara on my head.
“Your father and I will go in first. The gathered populace will shout ‘Long
live King Matthew! Long live Queen Virginia!’ as we walk to our thrones. When
the cheering stops, your father will make a speech and end with, ‘I give you
Princess Lily!’ Then, you come in and walk to your throne, while the gathered
populace shouts ‘Long live Princess Lily!’ Do you understand?”
    I
nodded.
    And
that was exactly what happened.
    Right
up until the part where I tripped on my dress and knocked over some candles that
Mom didn’t mention which–briefly–set the floor on fire.
    Following
my amazing display of grace and agility, several Smythian men rushed in to save
the damsel in distress (me) by putting out the floor fire. My father (who I may
decide to call “Your Majesty” since “Dad” seems weird) did an excellent job of
thanking “the brave men who, forsaking personal safety, chose to save the
Princess.” [19]
    I
think I regrouped well after the fire incident. I advanced to my throne, sat
gracefully, and listened to my father’s speech, which in addition to gratitude
for the volunteer firemen contained a lot of words that all seemed to be taking
the longest possible way to say, “Hey, aren’t we all glad Lily is here?”
    He
said, “When we look back across the chasms of time that have led us to this
glorious day,” and “Surely, our hearts contain fountains of joy that know no
lack of purest water,” and “Her arrival heralds a new dawn of bright hope and
promise for all in this great and abundant land.”
    This
was all long, boring, and annoying.
    Finally,
after using all the words in the English language, King Daddy said, “Now,
people of this land, come forward and meet your Princess.”
    This
dramatic statement was followed by more cheering. When the cheering stopped,
Macon came forward.
    “Warmest
greetings, Princess,” he bowed. “Allow me to present, Lady Potio Bane of
Hemlock.”
    As
he spoke, the main doors of the room opened, and a positively scary woman
entered. She wore a deep purple cape, and after she bowed low, she removed her
hood to reveal jet-black hair. I realize, mathematically speaking, a deep
purple cape plus jet-black hair do not necessarily equal positively scary, but I
was afraid of that woman.
    “Welcome
to the Salty Fire Land, my princess,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. “In
honor of your arrival, I have brought gifts.” (My mother hadn’t said anything
about gifts!) She clapped her hands twice, and the doors opened again for a
young servant boy. He carried a box wrapped in paper of the same deep purple as
her cape. On top of the box sat a bright, shiny red apple. Even though I just ate
lunch, my mouth watered for a taste of that apple.
    The
boy advanced and bowed before me, while uplifting the gift. Not really sure
what I was supposed to do, I stood and took the box from his hands. The apple
was mine! I would have taken a bite right then if my father had not spoken.
    “We
thank you kindly for your attentions, Lady Potio. But, of course, we shall have
the apple tested for poison before we allow the