Cinderella Escape- R18 -hajime Doujin Circle- Official

The reflection reached through the crack and handed her a shard of the broken mirror—a jagged, silver blade.

“Each time you break me, I learn where the cracks are. In you.”

He snapped his fingers. The mirrors flickered, and suddenly Ella saw herself not as she was, but as she had been in past loops: scrubbing floors until her fingers bled, kneeling in the rain, her mouth sewn shut with golden thread (a gift for talking too much).

Ella swung her legs out of bed. On the nightstand was a single glass slipper. Its twin was missing, held by the Prince as a leash. As long as he had it, she could not leave the manor’s grounds. She had tried. The invisible wall at the garden gate was sharper than any blade. Cinderella Escape- R18 -Hajime Doujin Circle-

He tilted his head. “And what is that?”

The west parlor was lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Reinhard stood in the center, tall and impossibly handsome, his smile a blade wrapped in velvet. At his feet lay a box wrapped in black ribbon.

She stepped through. Behind her, the manor collapsed into a silent heap of glass dust and wilted roses. The reflection reached through the crack and handed

And the manor screamed .

“No,” Ella said, climbing the first step. “You’ve reset me a hundred times. But you forgot one thing.”

Ella didn’t curtsy. She met his gaze. That was her first mistake. The mirrors flickered, and suddenly Ella saw herself

Inside was a pair of ballet heels—shoes designed to force a dancer onto her tiptoes, the arches impossibly steep. They were made of the same fragile glass as the slippers. And they were locked with a small, silver key that hung around Reinhard’s neck.

Ella walked barefoot through the forest until she found a stream. She washed her face, her arms, her feet. The cuts from the glass were shallow. They would heal.

His smile didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened with delight.