experience a slow-burn romance as events lead to the royal ball.
A short, slow-burn Cinderella story where she meets the prince by chance before the ball. Focuses on gentle romance, quiet tension, and Cinderella’s life at home. Perfect for immersive, emotional storytelling before magic and identity reveal.
She notices a young man crouched nearby, scattering crumbs for a small bird.
Cinderella (FL): startled but curious “Oh… I didn’t expect anyone else here.”
Young Man (ML, not revealing identity): looks up, smiling faintly “The gardens are usually empty this early. It’s… peaceful.”
Cinderella (FL): glances at the bird, then back at him “It seems to like you.”
Young Man (ML): chuckles “It does. And I suppose I like its company. Rare to see someone else appreciating the quiet.”
Cinderella (FL): blushing slightly, fiddling with her basket “I… I come here when I can. It’s… easier than being inside all the time.”
Young Man (ML): steps a little closer, voice gentle “Then I’m glad you’re here. You make this place feel… lighter.”
Cinderella (FL): looks down at the grass nervously “I… should go back now. My stepmother…”
Young Man (ML): nods understandingly, smiles softly “Of course. I hope… we meet again.”
Cinderella nods, turns, and hurries away. She doesn’t ask his name; he doesn’t offer it. Both feel the spark of curiosity and anticipation as they part, leaving the garden quieter than before, but somehow charged with something unspoken.
Scene:
Cinderella carefully prepares her modest gown for the ball, sewing small fixes by hand. Her stepsisters, Anastasia and Drizella, enter unannounced, snickering and full of malice.
Anastasia: pointing at the gown “What a joke… you really think you could wear that to the ball?”
Drizella: grabbing the fabric “Oh, please. It’s ridiculous. Let’s see how it looks after a little… ”adjustment.
They roughly tear at the seams of Cinderella’s dress, laughing cruelly. Cinderella gasps, clutching the ruined fabric, tears welling up.
Cinderella: voice trembling, crying softly “No… please… my dress…”
She stumbles backward, clutching the torn gown, and flees to her small room. She collapses onto the floor, sobbing, feeling helpless and crushed by her stepfamily’s cruelty.
Cinderella (FL): sniffling “I… I can’t go like this. I’ll never get to the ball…”
Suddenly, a soft glow appears in the corner of the room. The air shimmers as the Fairy Godmother materializes, radiating warmth and kindness.
Fairy Godmother: gentle, comforting “Hush now, dear child. There’s no need to cry. Your heart is too kind to be crushed by their cruelty.”
Cinderella: sniffling, looking up with wide, tearful eyes “Who… who are you? How… how can you help me?”
Fairy Godmother: kneeling beside her “I am here to show you that kindness, hope, and courage can never be destroyed. Look at what they tore, and now imagine it transformed — just as your spirit can shine, even in darkness.”
The Fairy Godmother waves her wand; Cinderella’s tears glisten like tiny stars. The torn dress begins to shimmer, repairing itself as magic flows through the room. Her heart lifts slightly, hope returning.
Cinderella: softly, almost whispering “It… it’s beautiful… but… why me?”
Fairy Godmother: smiling warmly “Because my dear, you deserve to be seen, to be celebrated, to dance tonight if only in the brilliance of your own courage. Now, go, and trust in your heart — the night is yours to discover.”
With that, the Fairy Godmother twirls her wand, finishing the transformation. Cinderella stands, radiant and astonished, ready to face the night, her spirit renewed and tears replaced with excitement and anticipation.
Prince (disguised, bowing slightly): “I didn’t expect to see you here… though I’m glad I do.” Cinderella: blushing, smiling softly “I… I wasn’t sure I’d even be allowed to come.”
He offers his hand, and she hesitates for only a moment before accepting. They dance, moving carefully with the rhythm, talking quietly amid the music.
Prince: “You have a way of making even this crowded, dazzling place feel… calm.” Cinderella: softly, almost whispering “And you make the garden seem… like home.”
As they dance, neither mentions who they truly are, but both feel the familiar pull from their earlier encounter, a slow-burning connection that lingers in every glance. Around them, the music swells, and the fairy lights glimmer, hinting at magic yet to unfold.
Opening (Before Garden Encounter)
Cinderella kneels on the cold kitchen floor, scrubbing ashes from the fireplace. Dust clings to her hair and apron, and the smell of soot fills the air. The clatter of dishes and the loud voices of her stepsisters echo from the hall.
Choose this opening if you want to start the story at home, establishing chores and Cinderella’s quiet resilience before the garden encounter with the prince.
Stepsister (Anastasia): “Ella, hurry up! The floors won’t clean themselves!” Cinderella: softly, to herself “Yes… I’ll be done soon…”
A small mouse scurries across the floor, and Cinderella bends down to stroke its tiny head. For a moment, she smiles—her only comfort in the harsh morning. The world outside the dusty windows seems distant, a hint of light and freedom she can barely reach.