by Sarah Holman
When I reached the door of the kitchen, I tapped lightly. “Cynthia?”
No answer.
“Cynthia?” I spoke a little louder.
I heard movement inside, and the next moment the door opened.
“Amelia!” Cynthia enveloped me in her arms. “It is so good to see you. How are you? Come in.”
She ushered me into the kitchen and set me down. I smiled at her, so grateful that she had remained my friend through the past three years of turmoil.
“I am fine. How are you, Cynthia?”
“Well, very well.”
“Any news from Alex?” I tried to only ask in the summer time, but I missed my friend terribly. I hadn’t seen him since the day we had waltzed in the waves. By the time I had recovered from my burn, he had returned to court.
Cynthia sighed. “He will not come this year.”
My heart twisted. I didn’t know what I had expected. I hadn’t seen Alex in three years, and the last time I heard from him was the short note he had sent me two years previous, explaining he had to stay at court. His father had been ill and needed him there.
“But I’m sure you did not come all this way to see how I or Alex was,” Cynthia’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
I shook the cobwebs of memories from my head. “No, indeed. I came all this way because my step-mother wishes all the goat milk you can spare.” I placed two small coins on the table.
“Your own goats have stopped giving?” Cynthia crossed to the other side of the kitchen.
I shook my head. “No, she wants it for a bath.”
“What? Why?” Cynthia looked as skeptical as I had felt when my stepmother told me.
“For my step-sister. It is supposed to make your skin soft as a rosebud. And she wants to be perfect for tomorrow’s masked ball.”
I was very pleased to see the effect my news had on Cynthia. She turned slowly, her mouth gaping.
“Don’t tell me that you are speaking of the prince’s masked ball?”
I bobbed my head. “Umm humm. My step-mother is furious, because the invitation specifically states that she and both her daughters are to attend. I will be going with them.”
Cynthia shrieked and grabbed my hands, spinning me around. “You will finally get to go to a ball! I know you have dreamt of that since you where what? Sixteen?”
Yes, ever since Alex had given me the slippers, I had longed for the day I would wear them. But no one but Alex and I knew of the slippers. They had been a precious reminder to me of one of the last days I had felt loved. So I simply nodded in reply to Cynthia’s question.
“Will you meet the prince, do you think?” Cynthia leaned close.
“Since I think this ball is to announce the engagement of the prince to Amelia Ella, I think that it is likely.”
I laughed as Cynthia squealed like a girl half her age and twirled. “Finally! You can expose your step-sister for the charlatan she is and take your name and place back.”
My mirth drained away. I reached up and brushed my right cheek, feeling its hideousness.
“I can’t do that. Who would believe that I, who knows nothing of court life and am scarred, would be the chosen one for the prince? No. Things must remain as they are. I will continue to be just Ella. In fact, things might get better without my step-sister around, always calling me Cinder-Ella all the time.”
Cynthia placed her hand on her hips. “You are too obliging and sweet for how they have treated you.”
I shook my head. “They may not be the kindest, but they are my family.”
“I still say you are too sweet.” Cynthia grumbled as she retrieved the jugs of goat’s milk. “So what will you wear to the ball?”
“One of my step-sister’s hand-me-downs. I must confess, I have no idea what I will use for a mask.” I smoothed a crease of my earthen-colored dress, thinking with pleasure of the slippers tucked away in the white box. I might not have a fine gown or mask, but I would have the loveliest slippers at the ball.
“Well, I do not have time to make you a dress,” Cynthia said, placing the jugs in front of me. “But I will come over tomorrow evening with the loveliest mask you have ever seen. Better yet, you come here with your things.”
“I will try.” I picked up the jugs, knowing I had a long day ahead of me.
I had no idea how long it could take for two women to get ready for a ball. By the time they sent me down to dress, I only had an hour. I would not even have time to wash the stench of the last two days from me.
Somehow, as I raced toward the neighboring manor, it didn’t matter to me. I was going to go to a ball, with the loveliest slippers anyone had ever possessed. Perhaps Alex would be at the ball, and we could laugh as we danced together.
Then I remembered.
My face was not that of the girl he had left. I was not a pretty girl anymore. I was a scarred woman. Besides, we would both be masked. I doubted I would recognize him, and he probably didn’t even remember me.
I sighed. Perhaps it was better if our paths never crossed again. Better to cherish the past than to ruin it with a disappointing present.
Cynthia was waiting at the kitchen door for me and pulled me inside. “What took you so long?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but she held up her hand.
“Never mind. I know who kept you. Now hurry and get into the bath while I get the gown ready.” She took the white box from my hands.
I shed my garments and plunged into the water.
“Now, get your hair wet. It needs to be washed more than anything.”
“We don’t have time,” I protested.
Cynthia crossed the room. “Yes you do.” She pushed my head under water.
I came up sputtering. “Cynthia! My hair will never dry in time! I only have an hour.”
Cynthia chuckled deviously. “I sent Mrs. Margie over to see to your step-mother’s dress. You have a good two hours before she will be finished with them.”
I leaned back and laughed. “Cynthia, you’re an angel.”
Chapter 4
I watched as my slippers reflected the torches when I was handed out of the carriage. When I looked up, I gasped. I had heard of the lovely palace of the king, but nothing had prepared me for the glittering jewel that was in front of me. The granite steps gleamed, and laughter drifted out of the many windows.
I had never seen so many candles, torches, and lanterns lit at once. It was almost like being out in the daytime.
“Stay behind me, and let me do the talking,” hissed my step-mother.
I smiled beneath my mask. I didn’t care if she left me on the steps. I was soaking in this beauty. Nothing would spoil my evening. My scar was hidden, so no one would stare at me, I was in a pretty gown of pink satin, was at my first ball, and I was finally wearing the silk slippers! I felt like I was walking on air.
Stepping into the ballroom took my breath away. I never could have imagined so many lovely dresses. Who could have dreamed up so many different ones? The dancing was lovey, though nothing like the waltz I had learned.
My step-mother and sister turned off to one side, but I kept walking towards the dance floor, only to be jerked back.
My step-mother’s eyes glared at me from behind her mask. “We have to be introduced to the king, queen, and prince. Remember, not a word.”
“I promise to be silent,” I whispered to emphasize the fact.
We were escorted up more stairs and into a room that overlooked the ballroom. In the center sat two people who had more jewels on them than I had ever seen in my life. Each wore a crown and no mask.
My mother and sister knelt and bowed their heads with practiced ease. I mimicked them awkwardly from my place behind them.
“I welcome you, my lady. And you are Amelia?”
I lifted my head to respond, and then clamped my mouth shut, remembering my place.
“I am Amelia, your servant.” My step-sister’s voice dripped with false humility.
“Amelia, it
has been a long time.” The king came forward and helped my step-sister to her feet.
I cast a glance in my step-mother’s direction. She remained kneeling, and I followed her example.
The king surveyed my step-sister and smiled. “I still remember the sweet toddler that you were when your father and I planned this day. You have met my son?”
From a darkened corner, a masked prince emerged.
“No one ever could forget the magnificent Alexander.”
I wanted to gag at my step-sister’s obvious flattery. Had the girl never learned to speak with sincerity?
“I am honored to receive you today and that we will be able to finally announce our engagement to the world.”
I was glad I was kneeling, because if I hadn’t I would have fallen. That voice! That rich baritone could only belong to Alex. But that could not be. Alex and the prince could not be one and the same, could they?
“I too, have longed for this day when our secret would be revealed.”
Again I thought I would gag at the insincerity of my step-sister’s voice. But I held it together as the prince helped my mother to her feet and spoke some words about how he was honored to be her son-in-law or something. I did not hear most of it…well, not the words themselves. All I could hear was the tone of the voice. I knew it had to be Alex.
At first, my heart leapt for joy, and then it thudded. What if he recognized me? What if he found my step-sister was not Amelia? I could not bear for him to see what I had become.
A servant helped me to my feet, and Alex glanced my way before leading my step-sister out of the room. The king, queen and my step-mother followed close behind. I held back as long as I dared and then slowly followed. By the time they reached the ball room, I had managed to slip unnoticed away from the party.
I stepped down the steps onto the smooth surface of the ballroom floor and looked up at the vaulted ceilings. Paintings of angels and the heavens stared down at the merry-makers. I smiled, for most of the guests would miss so much of the beauty of the building, because they were too busy flirting, dancing, or eating.
I don’t know how long I walked around, just admiring the architecture and art. But as I was staring at a particularly lovey sculpture in one corner, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned my head and came face to face with the prince. I gasped.
“Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”
I swallowed hard. “There is nothing to forgive, your highness.” My response was barely above a whisper.
He held his hand out to me. “I wanted to dance with the sister of my bride-to-be. Will you do me the honor?”
I nodded and slipped my hand in his. My fingers tingled with the memory of the last time I had held his hand.
“I hope a waltz pleases you?” He slipped his arm around my waist.
I gulped and nodded again, not trusting my voice. I was grateful that it was the one dance I knew.
The soft strains of music began and the prince swept me along. We glided along the floor as smoothly as we had on the sand. I was grateful that I remembered the steps, but I kept my eyes on my feet, to make sure. My reflection stared back up at me every time my slippers peeked out from beneath my gown.
We had not been dancing very long when the prince’s steps slowed until he stopped. I lifted my gaze, wondering what was happening, since the music was still going. I found he was staring downward at my slippers.
“Ella?” he breathed and started to pull me closer.
My heart fluttered, and tears pricked my eyes. He remembered? Had those moments been as precious to him as they had been to me?
He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t get a chance. I was jerked from behind.
I spun around to see who the rude person was and found myself facing my step-mother.
“You will not steal this from me!” she yelled. Before I had time to react, she ripped my mask off, exposing my hideous side to the prince.
I turned and saw the horror in Alex’s eyes that no mask could hide. I burst into tears and started running. I heard my step-mother’s laughter and someone calling my name, but I didn’t turn around. I ran to where the carriages were waiting. I told the coachman I was ill and needed to go home; he would have to return for the others.
It was only when I collapsed onto my bed that I realized how cold my left foot had become. Somewhere, I had lost one of my slippers. It didn’t matter. I suddenly hated the slippers that had betrayed who I was and exposed my marred features to the man I had secretly loved for all these years.
Chapter 5
I beat on the rug with all my might, thinking that perhaps it would stop the flow of tears that had come and gone in the two days since the ball. I had cleaned the house from top to bottom and washed everything that I possibly could, but work was not helping.
It didn’t help that my step-sister kept rubbing in the fact that Alex had been so delighted with her that they were going to be married soon. And my step-mother kept saying that after I had left, Alex had said he was glad he had been saved from a marriage with me.
Although I knew that Alex had probably been kinder with his words for the sake of our old friendship, the words still stung.
I threw all my weight behind the next whack of the paddle, but it still didn’t help my hurt.
“You are going to put a hole in that poor thing.”
I brushed the hair from my face and lifted my eyes to Cynthia. “Well, it deserves it for catching so much dirt.” I hit it again.
“That is its job, to catch all the dirt, so you don’t have to sweep as much.” She grinned.
I was in no mood for joking. “Did you need something?”
“No need to be so curt. I… have you been crying?” she rushed to my side.
I wiped at the corners of my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I moved away, grabbing the rug.
“All right, then I will simply return this.” She held out a small box.
I took it. Awkwardly holding the rug to one side, I opened it. My missing slipper was inside. “Where did you find it?”
“Alex brought it by.”
“You mean Prince Alexander?” I turned my back on my friend and headed toward the house.
“He is Alex to his family and very close friends. He wants to see you.”
I dropped the rug and spun around, tears gathering once again. “How long have you known, Cynthia? How long have you know that Alex was the prince that I was pledged to marry?” I was angry.
“I have known it from his first visit. His father sent him every summer so that the two of you could know each other as friends long before you knew you were pledged to him. And it worked well. Alex was going to tell you himself when you turned 17, but his father has been ill, and he has had to stay and help rule the kingdom.”
I threw up my hands. “Did you tell him I had been scarred? That my step-mother has refused to teach me the ways of the court? That I would be useless to him?”
Cynthia only smiled. “I think I could talk until I was blue in the face, and it would not change his feelings for you.”
I shook my head and retrieved the rug. “Perhaps not, but seeing my scarred face will have done that.” I hurried into the kitchen.
Cynthia followed me. “Do you think his love is so flimsy that he would toss it aside because your face has changed?”
I threw the rug into the corner and took Cynthia by the shoulders. “Look at me! No man in his right mind would love my scars.”
“But if a man truly loved you, he would see the beauty that lies much deeper than those scars.” Cynthia’s calm reply diffused my anger, and my tears started once again.
“I never wanted him to see me this way. I… excuse me.” I could talk no longer. I grabbed both slippers and ran out the door. I ran across the grass in my bare feet until I felt the lovely summer sand beneath my toes.
I glared down at the slippers that had been my cherished tokens of my childhood friendship. They had also betrayed my identity, a
nd for that I could not forgive them. I would dance on the beach one last time in them, seeing the ocean reflect in them, then waltz them into the waves. I would leave them for the ocean to do with them as it would.
Slipping them on, I began to move in time with a waltz in my head, watching the refection. I closed my eyes as I got close to the water. I could not bear to watch the actual moment when I sacrificed them to the waves.
I took a spinning step, but knew that I had a few more to reach the ocean. I listened to the waltz in my head and spun closer and closer to the water. As I felt the sand beneath me change from dry to wet I braced myself for the next wave.
Something warm took hold of me and lifted me off my feet. I screamed and my eyes flew open. Only inches away, Alex’s eyes looked into my own.
“Such lovely silk slippers will be ruined in the water.” His voice was soft.
I turned my head away and tried to get out of his arms, but he held me fast. “I never wanted you to see my scars. If only I hadn’t worn these stupid slippers.” I closed my eyes and waited for him to set me down and let me go, but he held me without wavering. I finally turned back and looked him in the eyes. My lips parted when I saw tears in his eyes.
“Do you no longer care for me, Ella?” His voice was so full of pain it twisted my heart.
“It isn’t that. It is just… you are a prince, and I would never make a good wife for you.” I swallowed and looked down at the folds of my work dress.
“Why do you think that? Didn’t we plot together many times as children the fun we would have in court someday?” He chuckled.
Tears slid down my cheeks. “Yes, but that was before…” I reached up and touched my cheek.
“Before what?” he didn’t seem to understand my hint.
“My face was marred. A prince could never possibly marry or love a girl with scars. A princess should be perfect, and… oh, marry my step-sister. She knows about court life and is pretty and… not scarred.”
“I don’t want to marry your sister. I want to marry you, Ella, my best friend.”
