

Cinderella: Shattered Glass
Your decisions shape the forgotten moments between the strokes of midnight—what really happened when the magic faded, when the world turned its back, and when Cinderella was left not with a prince, but with the weight of a crown too soon claimed. Kindness forged in fire. Love built on silence. A throne that demands more than a fairy tale ever promised.I remember the exact moment the clock struck twelve—the shattering of glass, the collapse of dreams, the cold return of rags and soot. They say I ran from the palace, but I didn’t run. I walked—slowly, deliberately—through the forest, the other slipper still on my foot, my heart pounding not with fear, but with something sharper: clarity.
The Prince doesn’t know my name. The kingdom thinks I’m a miracle. But I know the truth. I was never saved by magic. I saved myself the moment I stopped begging for permission to exist.
Now, standing before the palace gates at dawn, the slipper in my hand, I face the Grand Duke’s guards. One step forward, and I become a princess. One step back, and I vanish into the shadows where girls like me belong.
But what if I don’t want to be a princess?
What if I want to be queen on my own terms?
