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Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1010240
The fourth part to Cinderela
I actually liked Laurece’s suitor. He was funny, and a noble, of course, but he didn’t seem incredibly rich or incredibly haughty. He was the nicest one that had come through this house in quite a while, perhaps ever. After he left, I served the mistress and Laurece tea while they discussed whether this man was right for Laurece or not. The overall consensus was that he wasn’t rich enough.

Marianne arrived while they were still talking, and dismissed me for the night. Through the door I heard her tell them about the ball. I sighed and leaned against the door. Leave it to Marianne to tell everyone about my secret.

When she came out, I whispered anxiously, “What did you do that for? You could have just left them out of it completely.”

“Dear, if I had not told them, they would have found out when they go to the market tomorrow to watch the dancers, and they would have wanted to know why I hadn’t told them. It is much more subtle this way, with them knowing.”

I nodded and rolled my eyes. Knowing them, they probably would want to know why Marianne hadn’t told them. I retired to my room for the night.


The next morning dawned bright and clear. The wind rustled a few of the red and yellow leaves to the ground, and stirred the rest together into orange ones. The sky was that blue that only comes in October when the leaves have their change, pumpkins are harvesting, we are on the brink of winter, and moods could not be brighter. At least mine couldn’t be.

I was wide awake before I was meant to be, and was laughing while the other girls were still yawning. “What is with you today?” Iisha asked, and I didn’t have a really good answer, except for Aubrey.

I skipped to the kitchen, and helped make breakfast and start the pasta that would be part of the noon meal. Then I had a cup of tea, and asked Marianne for more chores in the market today.

“Dear, I really don’t have any. All I need is a pumpkin to make pumpkin pie with today.” She shook her head.

“That’s all right, I’ll take that.” A sudden thought occurred to me. “Marianne–what am I to wear?” I frantically searched my head for any clothes that may have been acceptable for a ball, and came through with not one item of clothing.

Marianne pursed her lips. “Honey-dear, I do not know.” She sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to go to the market and pick out fabric that would be suitable. Your mother‘s . . . no, no, never mind. Let us go.”

I quickly grabbed my tote bag and the leather one that the farmer’s boy had lent me, to return.

I laughed and twirled as I walked down the path, breathing in the deep, sweet scent of fall, and the coolness of the air as it rushed by me. Aubrey, Aubrey, Aubrey. It was the most beautiful name that I had ever heard in my life. Aubrey. His chocolatey eyes, the edge of his jaw, the wash of his wavy black hair.

We returned the leather satchel, then were off to the market. The colors were astonishing. The reds were like sparkeling rubies, the blues like the deepest depths of the oceans, and the yellows like a morning sun in the dead of winter. All were so vibrant that I almost couldn’t believe they were real.

Marianne put cloth up against me, and we decided. I picked the red as the prominent color, and black to go around my waist and trail down the back to pool at the back of my feet. There was an elegant black rose lace that would twine around my neck in swirls.

It would be perfect, and look perfect on me, for the perfect man. “Marianne, how are we to pay for all of this?”

She looked about then whispered. “We will take it from our mistress’ account. I run it, so they will never know.” She looked at me sadly. “They owe you so much.”

I shook my head, and knew better than to ask her what she meant, because of course she would just pretend she didn’t know what I meant. All the mysteries here were starting to bother me.

We had our fabrics packaged up nicely. The woman at the counter thought we were buying them for our mistress. We did not tell her otherwise, certainly.

“May I stop by and say hello to Leavitt and Baxter?” I asked Marianne. She was looking at a display of pumpkins in a stall corner, from the local farm.

“Yes, you may, as long as it is done quickly, so we may leave to make the pumpkin pie.” She picked a pumpkin up and tested its weight.

“Okay.” I ran to the bakery. I was halfway there when a hand laid itself on my shoulder. I turned around. “What–“ It was Aubrey.

I smiled. “Hello.”

He smiled back, softly. “Hello. I hope you do well today.”

“I do.” I searched my mind for other topics to talk about. Weather . . . no, that was too common. Animals . . . to broad. H’ajje. Perfect. “How is H’ajje? Still being spoiled, I hope?”

He grinned at the name of his horse. “Yes, she is doing quite well, thank you.” He looked around the market. “Do you often spend time here? It seems you are here almost every day.”

“Often enough,” I said, avoiding the fact that I only came to see him. “You seem to be here every day, as well.”

“Yes, well, it is not all the time there is a pretty girl here. I must take the chances as they come.” He smiled at me, and I blushed.

“I was actually on my way to say hello to Leavitt. Would you like to accompany me there?” I glanced up into his eyes, and was glad to see a warmth in them.

“Of course I would.” We walked side by side to the bakery, but once we reached the entrance, he excused himself. “I am sorry, but I really must be going. I promised my father that I would go hunting with him today, I hope you do not mind.”

“Of course I do not. I understand obligations well enough.”

He tilted his head. “Do you deal with family obligations often?”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid not. My mother died when I was born, and I am not certain where my father has been all these years.”

His eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I wish you the best of days.”

I nodded. “And you as well.” And he was off.

I walked into the bakery on a cloud. “Leavitt The most wonderful thing has been happening.” I walked up to the counter and waited while he finished with a customer.

When he was done, I said, “Lean in close. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to hear.” He leaned in closer.

“Leavitt, you know that man that was here in the bakery the other day?” I whispered. He nodded. “Well, do you know how there is to be a ball tomorrow night? Yes, well, I’m going!”

He jerked back. “How?” he asked, his eyes amazed.

“Well, it really was great. You see, I sent Marianne on a guilt trip, although I don’t really know what she feels guilty about, and she said I could go. It was something about her and the mistresses ‘owing’ me something, although I’m not sure what that even means. So I just picked out fabric, and Marianne is to make me a dress, and I think I’ll see Aubrey there, the man from the other day.”

Leavitt frowned. “Ela, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you aren’t a noble, what if they find you out?”

I shook my head. “Leavitt, even you cannot depress my happiness.” Baxter was sick today, so I told Leavitt to send him my love, took my sweet roll, and went to find Marianne. When I found her, I laughed. “He was here again! But he had to leave, to go hunting with his father. He’s perfect.”

“I’m sure he is,” Marianne said softly, a small, sad smile on her face. “I’m sure he is.”


I woke the next day more excited than I had ever been my whole life. I woke at four, and ran to the kitchen to start breakfast for everyone. I put on water, and started making eggs and browning toast for the mistresses. They always ate at seven, and the eggs would have been cool by then, so three of the manservants ate the breakfasts. Then I made breakfast for the rest of the servants, and continues making them until all the servants had eaten, and it was seven, time for the mistresses to eat. I ran their breakfasts down to them, one in each hand and one balanced on my arm.

I ran back to the kitchen and started making the dough for the noon meal’s cherry tart. Marianne was working on my dress, so I preformed her tasks. While the dough was rising, I made the filling, so that I would only have to put it together and place it in the oven when the time came. I quickly boiled water once again, and brought Marianne a biscuit and tea in her room.

Then I was swept away with the preparations for the ball. “Trim the edge with ribbon here” and “No, not that way, it has to be tighter, much tighter” graced the rest of my morning. It took the excitement of me going to the ball some, but when I escaped to make the lunch, thrills went through me again, shivering up my spine at the thought of dancing with anyone at all, but especially with Aubrey. Once I had put the cherry tart in the oven, I danced a few dances that I had learned from the books in the library, until it was time for me to bake the chicken and toss the salad.

I set the table and poured glasses of water, then took the tart out of the oven in the kitchen. It was a golden brown, the same color as Aubrey’s skin, a soft, sugary golden brown.

I put it on a cooling rack, then checked on the chicken. It was not completely cooked, so I closed the oven door once more and flitted around the kitchen until it was done.

What if Aubrey would not like that I had come to the ball, and ignored me? What if he would not dance with me because he knew I was a servant and didn’t like that? What if he didn’t really like me, and was only being polite? What if he didn’t go at all, for whatever reason there may be? What if he despised dancing? What would I do then?

I shook my head. I was being ridiculous. Of course he would love dancing, and of course he would like me and not mind that I was there. And if he did, then I would leave, or find someone else to dance with. It was that simple, was it not?

I took the chicken out of the oven and placed it on a serving plate. It felt heavier than it had been when I bought it as I carried it to the dining room, and placed both it and the salad on the table. All the mistresses had sat down, and I started cutting the chicken. I placed one on the mistress of the house’s plate, and she said, “Do I know you?”

I looked down. “I have worked in this household for many years, madam.”

“You may address me as duchess. And I think it was from before that . . . from somewhere else.”

I shook my head. “I have no recollection of meeting you before I worked here, duchess.”

She turned to her meal, and ignored me. “I must have been thinking of someone else,” she said to Victoria.

Marianne walked in while I was about to serve Laurece. “Mela–I mean, Ela, I’ll take that.”

The duchess looked up from her meal. “Did you just call her . . . Mela?”

Marianne turned her face to the floor. “I apologize, duchess, but I had forgotten for a moment her name. You must understand, with all of these servants around, that I can most certainly not remember all of their names, begging your ladyship's pardon.”

“I suppose so,” she said, but her ice gaze was on me, assessing my features in a way she had never done before. “I recognize you,” she finally announced. “I know I do, but I have yet to figure out from where.”

Marianne walked into the kitchen, while I was cleaning it, full of advice. “Stay away from our lady as much as you can today. For her to recognize you now would be potential death.”

Fear thrilled through me. It drilled up my spine. It was only when I saw what was in the duchess’s eyes that I could believe Marianne–the nothingness that completed her face, her inside that said there was nothing there, and everything, even lives and love, were business.

I walked to the sink and turned on the water. I soaped up a cloth, and started on the first dish. The water ran harshly, hitting the bottom and spraying all over everything else, much like the effect Marianne’s ominous threatenings had on me.

Once I had finished the dishes, and rinsed the remaining suds down the drain, I collapsed into a chair. This was supposed to be a wonderous, exciting day for me, going to a ball, and seeing Aubrey, and–hopefully–dancing with him. Maybe this was Marianne’s way to say yes, you may go, but I am going to ruin it for you. I couldn’t concentrate on my happiness, not with Marianne always telling me about my death and then, even worse, not telling me what it meant, or why or how it would be my death. I cannot stop what I do not know, can I?

I shook my head and went about to the other chores that had been assigned to me.

Iisha came for me while I was washing the kitchen floor, one task that I had taken from Marianne, and gave me the message that Marianne requested my presence in her chamber. Iisha told me “that was her wording, not mine.”

I quickly walked down the hall, sneaking around corners to make sure the duchess wasn’t watching for me. When I came to the small room that was Marianne’s, I looked around, then knocked lightly.

“Come in,” Marianne called. Once I was in and Marianne saw that it was, in fact, me, she grinned. “Ela, you will look beautiful in this, believe me. I was hesitant in the market about your choice of colors, but this is amazing. Now turn around. I’m going to dress you in it, then let you see.” Once she had fastened the ties in my back, she turned me towards the room’s small mirror.

“Oh, my God.” It was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen. The skirts flowed in and out like rivers, rivers of silk. The dress was a cherry red, with a wide bottom and fluffy petticoats underneath. There was a wide, glossy black sash that spun under the bust of the dress, and hung down the back of the dress in two long, thick, wide, streams of silk, falling to the floor, and pooling at my feet in wide circles. Black lace curled lovingly around my neck, and covered most of my chest, for the dress was so low in the front, and sleeveless. The lace was a thin, black, spider-web material and there were small, intricate roses within the pattern. There was practically no back; the silk didn’t start again until my lower back.

I spun, and the skirts twirled out, showing a hint of the black and red petticoats. “It’s beautiful.” I twirled again. “It’s the most beautiful dress I have ever seen.”

I threw myself at her to hug her, but she held me off. “You’ll wrinkle the dress.” I laughed and stepped back and out of the dress.

The door opened, and the duchess entered. “Marianne, could you . . . Oh, I see you have a visitor. What are you doing?”

Marianne lowered her head. “I beg your pardon, madam, but everyone’s in a rush for this ball, and I just thought . . . well, a lady in the village asked me to make her a dress, for pay, of course, and I said yes.”

The duchess sniffed. “Well, I suppose this is the girl?” She gestured to me.

I bobbed down into a curtsey. “Oh, of course not, duchess. Marianne simply asked me to try the dress on, to see if it would fit, for she thought that the girl and I were about the same size.”

“Really. Well, Marianne, I must ask you to stop this activity at once, and help my maid with my dress in my chambers. The girl’s really is of no use.” She stormed out.

I stepped into my normal dress, lacing it up over my undergarments. “Iisha’s not of no use. She knows her way around needle and thread.”

“My honey-dear, you do realize that now it has become of greater danger for you to go tonight. I just hope she will not recognize you.”

I threw my hands into the air. “Marianne, either tell me what is a danger to me, or don’t mention it at all. I am getting tired of you worrying me over something when you won’t give the fear a name.”

“My dear, I am sorry, but I cannot.” She shook her head as I ran from the room.


I had long since finished my chores, and went back to Laurece to help her into her dress and make the final adjustments before they left for the ball. “Do you think this dress adds weight to my figure?” Laurece asked, as she tugged down the dress around her hips.

“No, madam.” There was nothing in the world that would make Laurece look fat. There was not one moment in her entire life that she should have been worried about her weight. You could always see her rib cage.

“It would be most amazing if the prince chose me to be his bride, would it not be?” Laurece fiddled with a lock of her perfectly straight blonde hair. “I mean, wouldn’t everyone want to be his wife?”

“Yes. Have you met him?” I leaned back, then frowned at the way the dress hung around her. I went back, and started taking in the sides more.

“No. But that would not matter, would it? I mean, he is a prince, so he would have to have money, no?”

I shook my head out of her peripheral vision. All she really thought of was money. Not a lot upstairs, with Laurece. “Yes, he would have money.”

Her dress was a pale, pale pink, that brought out the slight tinge in her cheeks that had been helped with rouge. It was long, and had a very full, stiff skirt of lace. I could just imagine her walking to a chair, and knocking over the punch table with her skirt.

I wished I had the money to own such finery as this. I would wear it all the time, and dance in it just to feel the swish of the thick skirts around my legs, the soft fabric against my skin.

“That looks beautiful on you,” said the duchess, coming around to the front of Laurece, to admire the hang of the dress on her frame. “Absolutely beautiful, my daughter.”

The duchess was dressed in a long, thin lavender dress that had dark green embroidery around the top and vines curving around her neck. The neck was square, and a rose necklace hung in the hollow in her neck. There was a thick lavender fabric that made her arms seem even thinner, and a pale lace to match the dress covering the arms and torso of her fabric. There were small pieces of fabric that made a V over each of her hands.

“I admire how that dress appears upon you, duchess,” I said, training my eyes away from her. It would not be good for her to recognize me, so said Marianne, but not addressing her could be just as bad.

“Girl, were you not the one who served me my noon meal? Did not Marianne call you ‘Mela?’” She gripped my chin in her hand and shoved my face upward.

“You look like someone I knew once but . . .” she shook her head. “No, no, that’s impossible.” She released my chin and wiped her hand on her dress.

I nodded to her, and fled the room before I could cause more mishap than I was already causing.


We waved them off to the ball in their stagecoach, even though the castle was only through the marketplace. It was a beautiful evening. The dusk shimmered the horizon with reds and oranges, while the air shone with pinks, purples, and that soft indigo that cannot be described as any other color. The violet clouds stunned me; they were of the most perfect color, with tints of pinks, reds, and blues.

I was pulled from the sky by Marianne. “Ela, you must come now! You have yet to take a bath, and we have to get you dressed, and make-up, and hair . . .”

I followed her as she ranted on, giving a complete list of what they were to do to me. As I stepped into the bath, I found that Marianne had put the vanilla-scented soap that only Laurece was allowed to use on the tray next to the tub. I grinned and luxuriously bathed in the vanilla scent that covered my body until Marianne pulled me from the tub to dress me.

She dried me quickly and effortlessly, as I stood and waited to be clothed. I slipped into my undergarments as Marianne ran to retrieve my dress.

It felt just as wonderful on as the first time. I could not believe how soft and slick the silk was, or the way it swished around my body as though it were alive. I traced the black lace as it flew in intricate patterns across my chest, and I smoothed my hands across the sides of the dress, feeling the silkiness of it.

“Stop your fussing, and sit down.” Marianne pushed me gently into a chair, so as not to ruin the dress, and slowly brushed my hair. She had asked Iisha to help her, and Iisha, much to my surprise, did it without complaining. I believe there must have been some conference between Iisha and Marianne out in the hall.

Marianne finished brushing my hair and moved to my make-up as Iisha took over my hair. She smoothed the front into complex twists, so my hair was parted in the middle, and two twists swirled together in the back, and the rest of my hair curled down my back in long waves.

Marianne brought out a thick black paste. She opened it, looked at me, then closed it once more. “Ela, dear, your eyelashes are so thick and long that this would make you unable to see out from under them. We’ll skip that.” She took out another small, round container, which contained a bright red substance. She peered into it, looked at me, and artfully dabbed some on my mouth. She frowned, adjusted it, then nodded. She put that container away, looked in her drawer, and retrieved a smaller tub of black paste.

“This is eyeliner. Look up while I put it on the bottom of your eyes.” I looked up, and she carefully applied some with a thin wooden stick. Then I looked down, so she could do the top.

She and Iisha stepped back and looked at me. “Perfect,” Marianne said, nodding.

She turned me to the mirror, and I leaned closer. My hair curled over my shoulders, the black in sharp contrast to the red of the dress. My eyes were dramatically outlined in black, and my lips were as red as my dress. I looked perfect for meeting Aubrey.

I grinned, and hugged Iisha and Marianne. Marianne pushed me off of them. “You’ll wreck your dress,” she said, gingerly placing me back.

I frowned. “How will I go to the palace? I won’t ever make it in these shoes.” I was wearing three-inches of black shoe, which made me five foot eight.

Iisha frowned. “Marianne has rented a carriage for the night, to drive you there, and back. You can stay as late as you like, and if it’s too late for you to work tomorrow, we’ll say you were sick.”

I nodded, and Leavitt rushed in the door. “The coach is here,” he said, gasping for breath. He saw me and said, “Wow.”

I frowned. “Leavitt? Why are you here?”

He grinned. “I wanted to wish you good
luck.” He gestured at me. “Although, seeing as how well you clean up, I don’t think you’ll need it. You’ll dazzle them all, El.” He hugged me, then pushed me out the door. “You should really get going. The coach is already waiting, and the ball has started.”

I laughed, and ran as fast as one can in three-inch heels to the door. When I was about to leave, I turned and blew a kiss to them all. “I’ll see you later,” I said. A ball! I was going to a ball!

“I love you, my honey-dear,” said Marianne, wiping tears from her eyes.

I ran to her and wiped her face. “Do not cry, today is the most wonderful day!" With that, I ran from the room and into the carriage. It was round, the most extremely odd shape for a carriage to be. I sat at the window and looked out as the horse’s clip-clop made music in the air.

I turned and waved to my escort, Marianne, Leavitt, and Iisha. Marianne was crying again, and Iisha was looking as though I truly deserved this. Leavitt was jumping up and down and waving madly at me, yelling his luck to me. I laughed and leaned back into the carriage.

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