It was now evening.
In the dining room, Elise and Sophie carefully set the plates on the long table, the white cloth stretching across its surface like a soft, clean canvas.
Sophie placed the plates with precision. "Elise, where are the candelabra? Madam Rosalind wanted to place the candles on them to set the atmosphere."
Elise's hand flew to her mouth in sudden realization. "Oh, that's right! Big sister, I'll go get them from the storage room!"
She was just about to dash out of the dining room when—
Clarisse appeared in the doorway, the candelabra cradled gently in her hands.
Elise, surprised, halting her steps. "Oh! Miss Clarisse, apologies, I almost ran into you!"
Clarisse, holding the candelabra with a faint grin. "Hey, Elise. Were you looking for this?"
Elise, confused but relieved. "Yes, b-but... why? It's my job to fetch it from the storage room. You didn't have to do that..."
Clarisse handed it over, her expression softer than usual—almost hesitant, her words quiet but laced with an unfamiliar vulnerability.
"Don't worry about it. It's just... I wanted to help out a bit." She said it, hoping that by helping, she'd gain a better understanding of Cinderella.
Elise blinked, the weight of her words settling in, her fingers tightening around the cold brass of the candelabra. "Is that... so?"
From behind the table, Sophie placed a hand over her chest, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and something else—something softer, touched by the unexpected sincerity in Clarisse's tone.
"Miss Clarisse..." Sophie whispered softly.
Clarisse, offering a small but regretful smile, gave them a gentle wave as she turned to leave. "Anyway... keep up the good work."
As the door clicked softly behind her, a heavy silence filled the room. Elise and Sophie exchanged looks—puzzled, unsure, and yet, beneath that confusion, something had shifted.
The Clarisse they had known, the one who had always carried herself with a sharp, almost unreachable pride, was no longer the same. Something had changed. It was as though Ryo's presence had made them see the truth about her for the first time.
The sting of regret settled heavily in the Ravenswood family's hearts. A painful ache came with the memory of how they had once truly loved Cinderella—before resentment, envy, and cruelty took root. Once, they had seen her as a daughter… as a sister.
They had once taken her presence for granted, never fully understanding what they had until it was gone.
The ache in their hearts deepened as they quietly wondered…
If Cinderella were ever found—if Sherlock truly rescued her—could she find it in her heart to forgive them?
They didn't care if she returned to the palace, or if she chose to live beside Prince Vaelric forever. They would never ask her to stay, but...
All they wanted now, more than anything, was for Cinderella to return safe. Home. Even if it was just for a brief moment, just enough to remind them of the girl they had once loved so dearly.
Back in the attic…
Ryo found himself in a bizarre, zoo-like situation—far from the quiet nap he'd hoped for. He was surrounded by all of Cinderella's animal friends, the very ones she had once lived with here at the Ravenswood Manor.
They seemed to have claimed him as their personal hangout spot, lounging on his lap, perched on his shoulder, and even settling on his head as their cozy resting place.
Ryo groaned, sarcasm fully activated. "Wonderful. Just what I needed—an animal spa session on my lap."
The animals happily responded, blissfully unaware of Ryo's confusion or frustration, their carefree nature only adding to the absurdity of the moment.
The dog, wagging its tail, barked enthusiastically. "WOOF WOOF!"
The puppy, clearly filled with endless joy, bounced around excitedly. "Arf! Arf! Arf!"
One dove, chilling on top of Ryo's head like it owned the place, cooed lazily. "co cooo!"
The other dove, positioned in front of him, tilted its head and chirped. "COO COOOO!"
The kitten, snuggling against his knee, purred softly. "Mew! Mew! Mew!"
The squirrel, happily nibbling on an acorn while perched on Ryo's right shoulder, added its own little chirp. "Chi!"
Ryo shifted a bit, trying to adjust the animals so they weren't all piled on top of him. He crossed his legs and folded his arms, now fully immersed in analyzing the oddity of the situation.
But then a thought struck him. He remembered the old stories—Cinderella and her animal friends who always stood by her side, helping her out of tight spots whenever her stepfamily caused trouble.
Ryo had always wondered, after Cinderella's story ended, where did all the animals go? The stories always wrapped up with her 'happily ever after,' but never addressed the fate of her animal companions.
In this world, though, her animal friends were still here, still part of the manor. Had the stepfamily taken care of them? Or were they left to roam free all these years?
He glanced down at the dove in front of him, the one staring up at him with an intense gaze and letting out a loud, determined "COO COOO!!".
The other dove, now perched comfortably on his head, had earlier pecked his forehead—something Ryo hadn't forgotten.
He couldn't help but wonder if these two were the same ones from the old Grimm stories, the ones who had pecked the eyes out of the stepsisters in a fit of vengeance.
Ryo thought to himself. "Yup, hopefully these bird brains don't do that here, especially while I'm around."
He then turned his attention to the dog and the puppy.
The big golden retriever was familiar—he'd seen it in the tales before—but the playful puppy bouncing around was definitely a new addition to this version of Cinderella's world. It was way too happy for his liking.
Then, a kitten jumped up onto his lap, snuggling into his T-shirt and purring adorably, its tiny paws kneading into him. "Mew! Mew!"
Ryo smiled and gently rubbed its head, finding its affection oddly charming. But then a thought hit him—this kitten had never been in any version of Cinderella's story. The animated movie had a cat, sure, but a naughty furball. But this one? It was too sweet and an adorable little kitten.
Finally, he looked at the squirrel sitting comfortably on his shoulder, nibbling away at an acorn. This little creature was also unfamiliar to him—never once had it made an appearance in any version of Cinderella's story.
It was like the squirrel had just randomly decided to show up and make itself at home.
Ryo leaned back, his eyes scanning the creatures gathered around him. The question that had been bothering him all along suddenly felt a lot more pressing…
Why were all of Cinderella's beloved animal companions so attached to him now?
Ryo scratched his head and finally asked. "So, guys, what are you doing here in the attic?"
Suddenly, all the animals' cheerful energy faded. Their ears drooped, their heads lowered, and their once happy eyes turned sorrowful.
Ryo blinked, tilting his head in concern as he looked around at their sudden change.
"Awww... what's wrong?" he asked gently, his voice softening.
The big dog suddenly hopped off the bed. It crouched low, crawling under the dusty frame with determination.
A moment later, it wriggled back out, dragging something with its mouth — a wooden chest, but smaller and shaped almost like a thick, heavy suitcase.
The dog gripped the handle carefully in its teeth, lifted it, and offered it to Ryo, tail wagging low and slow as if trying to be careful.
Ryo raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He leaned forward, taking the handle gently from the dog's mouth.
"Thanks, boy," he muttered, setting the chest down on the bed in front of him. As he looked closer, he noticed something: a tiny, old-fashioned keyhole right in the center.
Ryo rubbed his temples, groaning."How the hell am I supposed to open it?"
Before he could complain further, the dove still sitting on his head flapped its wings and fluttered off, gliding toward the large, dusty chest tucked against the wall. It pecked at it persistently.
Ryo, pointing at himself, puzzled. "Do you want me... to open that?"
The dove gave a clear nod, cooing softly. "Co cooo."
Ryo stood up and walked over. He opened the large chest again, revealing the same items he had seen earlier: worn shoes, torn rags, and broken toys. Nothing useful.
He glanced over his shoulder at the animals. "So... what do you want me to find here?"
Without warning, the squirrel leapt off his shoulder, landing neatly inside the chest. It hopped over to the worn old shoe—the right one—and began pointing at it urgently.
Ryo blinked. "Is there something inside there?"
The squirrel nodded excitedly. "Chi!"
Ryo reached into the chest, picking up the worn shoe with one hand and slipping his other inside. He rummaged around, his fingers brushing something cold and metallic. He pulled it out — a small, rusty key.
Ryo held it up, turning it between his fingers. "Ohhh, it's a key. Could it be for that chest?"
He returned to the bed, sitting down, and lifted the suitcase-like chest up onto his lap. He slid the key into the keyhole, and with a faint click, it unlocked.
Still holding the key in place, Ryo smiled and leaned closer. "Let's see what's inside here."
He slowly lifted the lid open—and inside, laying untouched for who knows how many years, was an old, dusty green dress.
Ryo furrowed his brows, confusion flashing across his face. He gently lifted the dress out with both hands. The fabric was delicate, worn thin by time, and torn in a few places. As he turned it around, realization struck him like lightning.
His eyes widened. "This... this is the dress Cinderella made with her own hands..."
The memory rushed in — in the story, Cinderella had worn the dress she made herself, hoping to go to the royal ball. But her stepsisters... they had shredded it, leaving Cinderella heartbroken and alone before the fairy godmother appeared to help her."
Ryo's hands tightened slightly on the delicate fabric as he turned toward the animals. Their sad, knowing eyes met his.
Ryo's voice softened with realization. "Could it be... you all knew Cinderella was kidnapped too?"
All the animals slowly nodded, their eyes shimmering with sadness. The kitten curled tighter into a ball on the bed. The dog and the puppy whined softly. Even the doves drooped their heads low.
The attic felt heavier now. The air thick with memories.
Memories of a girl who had once been their light... and who was now gone.
The squirrel suddenly leapt toward the wall, climbing swiftly up to a high window ledge. It balanced itself on the narrow edge with ease, its tiny paws steady as it turned and pointed toward the distant horizon.
Ryo tilted his head, curious.
"Is there something you want me to see out there?" he asked.
The squirrel nodded firmly.
Though the window was set high, Ryo was just tall enough to reach it without trouble.
He gently set the dress aside on the bed, pushed himself up, and stood. With quiet determination, he walked over to the wall and rose onto his toes to peer out from the window where the squirrel pointed.
And then—he saw it.
A castle stood far in the distance.
Its grand towers barely visible through the haze. Ryo recognized it immediately.
It was the castle from the Cinderella tale—the royal home of the King and Queen of the Kingdom of Evendelle (though in the original story, the kingdom doesn't even have a name)… the same place where the prince lived, and where Cinderella had once stayed for three months after being brought there by the prince—before she mysteriously vanished.
Ryo turned back to the animals, realization dawning in his eyes.
"I see… you all heard the news about Cinderella's disappearance. So you went there yourselves—and found out something wasn't right."
The animals nodded in unison, but sadness lingered in their eyes—especially the white dove, who had flown back and now perched on Ryo's head, its feathers slightly ruffled.
He remembered what the Fairy Greatmother had mentioned…
The castle had been placed under strict lockdown after Cinderella vanished. Now it made sense—Cinderella's animal companions had seen it for themselves. That was how they knew something was wrong.
Ryo rubbed his chin, trying to piece together the mystery. He'd already searched through Cinderella's belongings earlier while geeking out, but hadn't found much—just the things he already knew from the story.
However, thanks to the big dog, he had uncovered a chest containing the shredded remains of a dress Cinderella had lovingly sewn together from scraps.
But this didn't reveal much, especially since Ryo's thoughts kept returning to Edmund. He was growing more suspicious of him by the minute.
Turning back to the animals, Ryo asked. "Do you guys know of anything else in this attic that belongs to Cinderella?"
The kitten let out a small "Mew!" and jumped off the bed, hurrying toward the far corner of the attic. It pawed at something loose on the floor.
Ryo raised an eyebrow. "You want me to check that out, buddy?"
The kitten glanced back at him, nodding adorably. "Mew!"
Ryo walked over to the corner, crouching next to the kitten. There, he noticed a loose floorboard. He hadn't spotted it earlier—though the attic was still dim, even with the candlelight flickering beside him.
The loose board had escaped his notice… but then again, he'd been so caught up in fanboy excitement that his focus had slipped. For a moment, he hadn't been the sharp detective he prided himself on being, but just a fan caught up in his love for the tale.
Ryo carefully pried up the floorboard, lifting it without breaking it. He leaned in closer, his face hovering over the opening—and then he saw it.
A dusty old book.
"What is this…?" Ryo muttered, furrowing his brows.
He reached down and picked it up. The book was small, its brown leather cover cracked with age, the pages brittle and faintly smelling of ash and old lavender.
"Could this be Cinderella's diary?" he wonders.
In every version of the Cinderella story, Cinderella never kept a diary. But in this world, she does. As a fairytale fan and a detective, Ryo's curiosity was piqued even more.
He returned to the old bed, sitting down with the book. The animals gathered around him, sitting in a circle, watching him intently.
Ryo opened the first page. There, written in delicate handwriting, was the first sentence…
"I write these words in secret, hoping they will never be found—but if they are, may they tell the story of a life spent in waiting, and the dreams of freedom that I dare not speak aloud."
The words were all written in French, but thanks to the Fairy Greatmother's earlier spell—a light tap on his head with her wand—Ryo could now understand the language effortlessly.
Still, even with the translation magic making the words easier to understand, the weight of that very first line hit hard.
This diary… it wasn't going to be a happy one. Not before she was taken to the castle.
Ryo's eyes drifted to the top right corner of the page, where a faint, elegant date was written: 1697.
His breath caught. "What the… That's the year Perrault's version of Cinderella was published!"
It dawned on him, then—this hidden diary wasn't just a keepsake. It was the place where her untold words began. A record of her life before the ball, before the glass slipper. Before the fairytale.
This was her truth—the raw, forgotten pieces of Cinderella's life as a servant under her stepfamily's roof.
The part of the story everyone knew… but never truly heard.
And yet, something didn't add up. Even though this world seemed to merge elements of the Brothers Grimm version, the story still began in the year tied to Perrault's tale—1697.
Ryo stared down at the fragile pages, the weight of forgotten history heavy in his hands.
He continued reading.
The next line appeared—written in Cinderella's delicate handwriting…
"The first three months after Mother married Edmund were… happy. Truly happy. He was kind, gentle, and thoughtful. He treated me like his own daughter, and was so patient with Clarisse and Seraphine. We felt like a real family. For a moment, I believed the worst was behind us."
The dove that had been perched on his head fluttered down beside him on the bed.
Ryo brushed a few soft feathers from his head, but inside, he was frowning in confusion.
He had suspected Edmund from the beginning—as the one who might've started Cinderella's spiral into misery. But this entry… painted him as a kind and decent man. At least at first.
Ryo flipped to the next page.
Another line surfaced…
"It was after five months… that everything began to change. Suddenly, they all started looking at me with disgust. I don't understand why. What did I do?"
Ryo sat up straighter.
This was it. This was the beginning. The part of the story he knew—the moment her suffering was about to begin.
He turned the page again.
"Edmund began to grow distant. Cold. He wouldn't speak to me anymore. He wouldn't even look at me. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve it."
Ryo narrowed his eyes.
The loving father figure… vanishing. Just like in every version of the tale.
But still—he muttered under his breath, "Why? What changed?"
More curious than ever, he turned the next page.
"Mother Rosalind… Clarisse… Seraphine… they weren't the same. They began ordering me around. At first, it was small things—sweeping the floor, fetching tea. Then it turned into scrubbing chamber pots, cleaning chimneys, and doing everything while they sat and laughed. They used to call me sweet names. Now they just spit insults."
Ryo narrowed his eyes further.
"Hmmm… Could it be that Edmund was pretending to be the perfect stepfather for those first five months—just building up trust? Playing a part, until it didn't serve him anymore?" he wonders.
He flipped to the next page.
There, the ink was smudged—wet tear stains soaked the parchment.
Ryo paused. He could almost feel her pain.
The next entry was shaky, full of trembling emotion…
"Why… Why…?"
"Clarisse and Seraphine threw water on me today. A whole bucket. I was soaked and shivering while they laughed and called me names. Ash-face. Dust rat. Filthy girl. I tried to ignore it. I tried not to cry."
"But now they only call me… Aschenputtel."
Ryo exhaled sharply.
This was it. The moment when the Brothers Grimm version started bleeding into her life—right inside this blended world.
He turned to the next entry.
"I begged Edmund to help me. I told him what they did. He didn't even blink. He just looked at me, face blank… and walked away."
Ryo groaned. "Great… there we go... Just like in the story—Mr. Invisible Father."
He looked to the animals. "Right, guys?"
The animals collectively sighed.
Even the two doves shook their heads, while the dog and puppy rolled over with an exaggerated grunt. The squirrel facepalmed with its tiny paw. The kitten gave the smallest, most offended "Mew!" imaginable.
It seemed they had all seen Edmund acting distant toward Cinderella and were clearly not impressed.
"He was about as helpful as a brick wall painted with disappointment," Ryo muttered, deadpan.
He turned the next page.
"When Mother Rosalind ordered me to go to the market, I'd stop by the riverbank first—just to cry. Just to breathe. I couldn't cry inside the manor anymore. They'd hear me. They'd mock me. The river became the only place I could let myself break."
Ryo felt his chest tighten. "First a servant… then a princess who found love and freedom… and now, kidnapped."
He sighed, voice low with sympathy. "She just can't catch a break from her misery."
He turned the page once more.
"I began visiting Mama's grave again. Her resting place lies deep in the grove, hidden where the wildflowers bloom. I don't remember much about her—I was just a baby when she passed. But sometimes, I feel a warmth when I think of her, like a memory buried deep in my chest. I go there to cry. To pray. I ask her to make it stop. I never really knew her, yet I miss her… and I miss whatever life we might've had before everything was taken from me."
Ryo exhaled slowly through his nose. "Just like in the Grimms version, huh…"
His brows furrowed as he pieced things together.
This worlds story began in 1697, like Perrault's version—but the world around Cinderella was blending, twisting… dragging in sorrowful threads from the Grimm brothers' darker telling, published in 1812.
Then he paused at a word: Grove.
Cinderella's mother—Aurelia—was buried in a grove.
He sat up straighter. 'Guess I'll ask the Ravenswood family where that grove is… and visit the grave with Ma'am tomorrow.
There was something waiting there.
He could feel it.