And so it began. They knocked on the doors of large homes where the ladies greeted them with tea in fine china. They knocked on the doors in the humbler part of the village and stood shivering by empty hearths. When every maiden in the town had been seen, the search moved to the countryside. In small inns, women lined up to try their luck or hailed the group as they passed open fields.

The search began almost immediately. Led by the Grand Duke and the Captain of the Guard, a group set off from the palace. Per Kit's orders, they were to visit every maiden in the kingdom, whether she was rich or poor. Kit had placed the glass slipper in the Grand Duke's keeping to be used as a test. If the shoe fit, they had found their mystery princess.

Days passed and the search dragged on. But whether the ladies were from the town or the country, their excited reaction was always the same, and so was the outcome. The glass slipper never fit. On some, it was too small. On others, too large. It was too narrow, or too wide. No matter what the complaint, there was no doubt that they had yet to find the mystery princess.

Barely glancing in the direction of the Captain's finger, the Grand Duke waved at the house dismissively. "We have been there already," he said, agitated.

"We have not, Your Grace," the Captain said. The Captain was no fool. He had seen the way the Duke barely went through the motions, scoffing at the poorer girls and getting out of houses as quickly as possible. But this was Kit's future. There was no way the Captain was going to let him down.

The Captain sighed and turned his horse to go, but catching sight of a house down the road, he paused. "We're not done yet, Your Grace," he said, pointing.

"Enough folly," the Grand Duke said as he and the Captain rode. It had been weeks and still nothing. "Not a foot will suit this accursed shoe," the Grand Duke went on. "Time to head back to the palace, Captain."

The Grand Duke sneered at the Captain but reluctantly nodded. "Very well," he said. "We can tell His Highness that we have searched every house in the kingdom." Kicking his horse into a canter, they approached the house.

"Mother!" Anastasia cried from the parlor. "It's our chance!"

"Let them in!" Drisella shouted.

"A moment of your time, good lady," the Grand Duke said.

Unbeknownst to either man, the house was in fact not just a house. It was Ella's house. And hearing the sound of hoofbeats, Anastasia and Drisella went wild with anticipation.

Sighing, Lady Tremaine walked to the door and opened it. She was surprised to see the Grand Duke at the head of the search party. There was a brief look of surprise on his face, as well. But then he composed himself and bowed deeply. She curtsied in return. Both pretended they'd never met before.

Unlike her daughters, Lady Tremaine was calm. She knew what would happen. Neither girl was the mystery princess. She was locked up in the attic. Yet her daughters acted as though they actually stood a chance. Not for the first time, she had to wonder how they had become such fools.

"Of course, Your Grace," Lady Tremaine replied.

The Grand Duke took out a well-worn scroll and read, for the thousandth time, the proclamation and the command of the king: to try the glass slipper on every maiden in the kingdom until they found the foot it fit. Nodding, Lady Tremaine called to Anastasia and Drisella.

"Yes," Lady Tremaine said, pushing Drisella forward.

Taking the glass slipper off the cushion upon which it had been resting, the Captain of the Guard kneeled in front of Drisella. She lifted the hem of her skirt and began to squeeze her foot into the slipper -- until her foot got stuck. The shoe was far too narrow. "How strange," Drisella said through clenched teeth as she continued to shove her foot inside the slipper. "It fit so well at the ball." Then, with a yelp, she lost her balance and fell over.

"Enough!" the Grand Duke cried. He motioned to Anastasia.

"These are your daughters?" the Grand Duke asked, glancing at the two girls who fidgeted at their mother's side. Lady Tremaine nodded. "And they are the only maidens in the house?"

Just as her sister had done, Anastasia lifted her foot. The Captain slid the slipper on. But where Drisella's foot had been too wide, Anastasia's foot was just wide enough. For a brief moment, it looked like it might be a fit. And then everyone saw it: Anastasia's heel stuck out over the back of the slipper. Her foot was far too big.

"Ah, well, it is the way of the world," Lady Tremaine said, shrugging. She and the Grand Duke shared a barely perceptible nod. "But fate may yet be kind to us."

The Grand Duke clapped his heels together. "Very well," he said. "Since there is no other maiden, our task is done." Then, for it was what he was supposed to say, he added, "The king will be disappointed."

Up in the attic, Ella was unaware that the Grand Duke and the Captain of the Guard were in the house. She didn't know that the other glass slipper was being tried on her stepsisters' feet or that Lady Tremaine and the Grand Duke had a plan in action.

"Indeed, madam," the Duke replied. "You are as wise as you are beautiful."

With another bow, the Duke and the Captain turned and began to walk to their waiting horses. But as they did so, the Captain heard something. Pausing, he cocked his head and listened. There it was again: the very faint sound of someone singing -- a girl singing. Whipping back around, he leveled his gaze at Lady Tremaine. "Madam," he said, his tone warning. "Are you sure there is no other maiden in your house?"

She sat on her bed and sighed. She wouldn't allow herself to cry. Instead, she would focus on the good, just as her mother had taught her to do. She would hold on to her memories of Kit and remember the happier times from her childhood. She would think of her mother and father and the love they had given her, and that would keep her warm when winter came. Those thoughts would nourish her when she was hungry. While things had not gone her way, she knew she had kept her promises, and that was enough. It was freeing to let go of the pain and sorrow.

She began to move through the attic, her fingers brushing against the remnants of the toy butterfly, which was now gently laid on her bed. She leaned down and waved hello to Jacqueline and Gus, who twitched their whiskers happily. As she walked, she began to sing her mother's lullaby. "Lavender's green, dilly dilly," she sang, her voice soft and sweet. She approached the door and leaned against it, her voice growing stronger. "Lavender's blue… You must love me, for I love you."