by Casey Lane
I stepped back to look it over and applause broke out behind me. I turned around to see the scullery maids and even some of the other apprentices clapping. I blushed.
“I just hope everyone likes it,” I said.
“Of course they will!” said Joanne.
Footsteps approached from behind me and the other staff scattered. Turning, I saw Master Girard surveying the kitchen and the completed baking in astonishment. He quickly hid his expression and turned a critical eye on my tower.
I had made some extra pastries for him to sample and I held my breath while he ate. When he actually smiled at me, I nearly collapsed.
“Better than I expected,” he said. “It will do.”
It was the highest praise I could remember receiving from him and it made all the hard work seem like nothing.
“If the earl and countess are pleased with your creation, they may call for the chef to present themselves at the ball. I advise that you put on your best dress and cleanest apron, just in case.”
I nodded and fled the kitchen before he could change his mind. My feet seemed to have wings and as long as I was careful not to think of Stefan, I felt full of excitement. This was it! My big chance. Surely they would like it. I imagined appearing at the ball to receive their congratulations and thought I might burst.
Most of the other staff had already left to serve at the ball so the kitchen was quiet when I returned. My tower was still there, in all its chocolatey glory, and the neighboring bench was lined with the pastries I had re-baked for Brianna.
I admired them all from across the room before catching movement out of the corner of my eye. Brianna was approaching the benches and she didn’t look pleased to find everything completed.
She had dressed for the ball in a gown of dark gold with a large skirt. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she looked out of place in the kitchen. Even more out of place was the coal scuttle she gripped in one hand. Her other hand held her skirts well away from her dirty burden.
I couldn’t understand what she was doing but a presentiment of danger sent me hurrying across the room.
I wasn’t fast enough.
As I rounded the last bench, she tipped up the scuttle and poured ashes from the fireplace all over the pastries I had re-baked.
“Brianna!” I poured my years of frustration into the scream but she simply turned and tossed the last of the cinders over me.
I coughed and wiped my eyes before staring in dismay at my once white apron. I wanted to scream and rage and lash out but I couldn’t seem to muster anything but exhaustion.
“Why?” I asked at last, looking up to meet her eyes. “What did I ever do to you?”
“It’s not what you did,” she said, her voice filled with venom. “It’s who you are. And I would have been willing to overlook that if it wasn’t for your sneaky, deceitful ways. I saw you last night. I left something in the kitchens and came back to find it after everyone had left.”
My mind flew back to the night before and I blushed underneath the ashes streaked across my face.
“Yes, exactly,” she said. “I saw you with my own eyes so don’t even try to deny it. I will be the Countess of Westforth and I’m not going to let someone like you get in my way.”
She looked crazed, her face transformed by rage, and I wondered if she’d gone mad. I’d always thought it unlikely that the earl and countess would choose Brianna as their son’s bride but I couldn’t see how it had anything to do with me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I already told you not to bother denying it. I saw you in here, dallying with him. The whole thing is ridiculous. An earl’s son and a pastry chef’s apprentice. You make me laugh.” She looked more like she wanted to rip my throat out than laugh but I was too shocked to say anything.
“Once they’ve announced our engagement,” she continued, “I’ll be making sure he never comes near the kitchens again. I don’t know what you were planning but it isn’t going to work.”
“It was dark,” I managed to stammer, “you must have been confused. It was only Stefan…”
“Oh, Stefan, is it? From an apprentice! That’s Lord Westruther to you.”
I stared at her. Lord Westruther was the eldest son of the Earl of Westforth. Clearly there was some kind of mistake.
I wanted to protest again but several things were suddenly becoming clear. His family responsibilities. Why everything would change after the ball.
But he’d said he was a footman.
Or had he? I tried to remember if he’d ever actually said anything specific about his occupation. There were always footmen sneaking in after food and I’d just assumed…
It still seemed difficult to believe. Stefan – an earl’s son.
He’d never dressed like nobility. But then I’d seen some of the noblemen in training gear before and it did look remarkably like the off duty clothes of the male servants. Northhelmian practicality again.
Then why had none of the other staff said anything? Of course, scullery maids hardly had the chance to observe the nobility. Maybe the ones who’d seen him in the kitchens hadn’t known who he was either. And the cook had always treated him more like a favored nephew than a pesky underling.
Brianna seemed to take my stunned silence as capitulation because she turned to sweep away, dropping the coal scuttle at my feet as she skirted the black powder now coating my patch of floor. She’d barely made it a few steps, however, when Master Girard appeared.
His eyes flew from the ruined pastries to me and then down to the scuttle at my feet. He seemed to swell with wrath, his face turning purple as he struggled to form words.
“This…is…unacceptable,” he finally managed to force out.
Brianna turned to look at me, all trace of anger gone from her face.
“She tripped,” she said, her voice full of faux sympathy.
I had a sudden desperate longing to run over and smear ashes down her dress. I barely managed to repress it.
Master Girard took several deep breaths and then shook his head.
“Tripped? Tripped? I already gave you one chance today, girl. This is too much.” He mopped at his forehead. “I notice you managed to avoid your pastry tower. Well, don’t be thinking it will do you any good. There’s no way I’m going to let you parade yourself in front of the nobility now.” He stopped and had a good look at me. “As if you even could, looking like that!”
I opened my mouth to say something, although I wasn’t sure what, but he rushed on. “As far as any of them are concerned, I made the dessert with the assistance of my one useful apprentice.”
He glared at me but I was too horrified to protest. Brianna, on the other hand, was practically purring.
“You can count on me,” she said to Master Girard. “I won’t let anything else go wrong. I’ll serve it with my own hands.”
Without doubt she would – to the earl and his family. I somehow imagined that the rest of the guests would find themselves beneath her notice, however.
I stood frozen in place, as if the soot was sticky as well as dirty, while I watched my dessert carefully carried out of the kitchen. Both my brain and my emotions were so overloaded that they had ceased to function.
But when Brianna, the last to leave, swept a satisfied glance around the kitchen, I was galvanized into action. I ran forward and grabbed her arm.
She squealed at the sight of the black marks left on her skin and pushed me away.
“You may have taken credit for my work,” I said, my voice low, “but you won’t be able to take Stefan. He’ll never choose you. He hates you!”
If I had thought she was enraged before, it was nothing to how she looked at this pronouncement. I think she would have liked to strangle me where I stood.
Instead, she reached into her dress and pulled out a small clear bottle.
“Didn’t you hear?” she asked. “I’ll be serving Lord Westruther with my own hands. A few drops of this and he’
ll forget you or anyone else ever existed.”
“What…what’s that?” I asked, thrown off by her tone of triumph.
“Only a little potion someone managed to…acquire…from one of the godmothers. I had to make a bargain with a very strange man to get my hands on it but it was well worth it.” Her smile of satisfaction grew. “After tonight I’ll be done with these kitchens and done with you. And I’ll finally get the recognition and admiration I deserve.”
She wrenched her arm free and stormed away. I hurried after her but paused when I caught sight of my dress.
I could hardly go to the ball trailing soot. I’d be stopped before I ever got in. But I had to warn Stefan somehow. Stefan. Lord Westruther.
I sat down hard on a nearby stool.
How had everything unraveled so quickly? My insides felt as ruined as my outside. My dreams of making a future for myself as a pastry chef seemed gone. And with them any lingering hopes of Stefan.
I’d spent the night telling myself that maybe things wouldn’t turn out to be as dire as he feared. That somehow he would find a way to come back to me. But Stefan was going to be an earl one day. His responsibilities were far greater than I had imagined.
All these years I’d thought that if only he felt the same way about me as I felt about him, that would be enough. But now I knew it wasn’t enough and never would be. Tonight Stefan’s family would choose a bride for him and I would never see him again.
I put my head down on a nearby table and cried.
After a few minutes, the tears dried up and determination took their place. Even if I couldn’t be with Stefan, I wasn’t going to let his life be ruined by Brianna and a magic potion.
I looked around hoping that one of the scullery maids might be dressed neatly enough to take a message to the ballroom for me. But strangely, the kitchens were completely empty. Where had everyone gone?
I looked down at my ruined clothes and then felt the soot in my hair. It would take several baths to wash all of the grime away and I hated to think how long it would take to fill the tub multiple times. I could be carrying water all night. How long before they served the dessert?
My heart began to hammer and I scanned the kitchens desperately. I was still alone.
Maybe I could throw on a cloak and keep my face down. I might be able to slip in if no one noticed me.
I stood up and took a single step towards the door when I sensed that I wasn’t alone after all. I spun around and my mouth gaped open.
Directly behind me, surveying the sooty mess of the kitchens with distaste, stood a completely unfamiliar woman. She could have been someone’s grandmother if it wasn’t for the wings.
“You’re a…a…”
“Godmother. Yes, dear,” she said briskly.
I continued to stare at her.
She raised her eyebrows. “Why so surprised?”
“I didn’t know I had a godmother.” It was the only thing I could think of to say.
“Well, you are mistreated aren’t you?” She looked at me expectantly.
“I, I suppose so.”
“And deserving?”
I assumed that question was rhetorical.
“And you are faced with an impossible situation?”
That one was easy. I nodded.
“Well, then, here I am.” She rolled up her sleeves and once again eyed the soot. “I can see why you need me.”
“Thank you,” I said, dazed by my good fortune.
“I can only get you to the ball.” The warning was clear in her voice. “The rest is up to you. And the magic will only last until midnight so don’t forget to be gone by then.”
“That’s plenty of time,” I said, almost crying in my delight and relief. I just needed to get there before Brianna served my dessert.
I must have blinked because suddenly the kitchen was free of ashes. I looked down at myself and was disappointed to see I was still coated in them. The godmother began to circle around me, frowning and tut-tutting. I watched her, wide eyed.
After a moment her expression transformed into a smile. Now it was my turn to frown. Nothing had happened.
I glanced down at myself and gasped. The soot was gone and with it my dress. Instead a magnificent blue ball gown clung to me. Cap sleeves and a fitted top belled out into a huge skirt that swished as I moved. Tiny glittering diamonds sparkled from the embroidery as if the dress itself were magic.
It was the most magnificent garment I’d ever seen and looked far more expensive than Brianna’s gown. I reached up and found my hair elaborately curled and arranged on top of my head, a ribbon threaded through it.
When I turned back to look at the godmother she was grinning at me.
“Like it?”
“It’s more beautiful than anything I ever imagined.” I shook my head in wonder.
The godmother cocked her head to one side. “It is one of my better creations if I do say so myself. You’re just missing two things.”
I couldn’t imagine what they could be.
She reached into a small bag and pulled out a delicate blue mask. It was also studded with tiny diamonds and had elegant ribbons to secure it around my head. She gestured me towards her and tied it over my eyes and nose. Thankfully I could still see clearly.
It itched a little and I wriggled my nose and sneezed loudly.
“None of that,” said the godmother. “It ruins the effect.”
I laughed.
She reached down into the bag and pulled out two perfect glass slippers.
I stepped backwards and held up both hands.
“Oh, no, no, no,” I said. “I couldn’t possibly wear those. I need to be able to move quickly.”
The godmother glared at me. “These won’t disappear at midnight, you know. They’re a gift. I thought you deserved something extra special.”
I immediately felt guilty but the trepidation didn’t abate. I continued to shake my head but she ignored me. And I could hardly push her away when she knelt down to put them on my feet herself. Reluctantly I slipped into them.
To my surprise they were soft and pliable and felt as if they’d been molded to my exact size. I held out one foot to examine it. It still looked like glass. I reached down and felt it. It felt like glass to my fingers but to my foot it felt like the most comfortable shoe I’d ever worn.
I looked back up to express my amazement but my godmother was gone. And I hadn’t even thanked her. I looked around a little wildly but there was no sign of her anywhere in the now silent kitchens.
I hesitated for a moment and then remembered that I didn’t have any time to lose. I raced for the door.
It seemed to take forever to make my way through the corridors of the palace. I only let myself slow down when I neared the entrance to the ballroom. Hundreds of candles lit a wide corridor lined with footmen. I scanned their faces looking for Stefan before I remembered.
I kept waiting for someone to stop me and yell ‘imposter’ but no one approached me at all. When I finally reached the large double doors, I paused, closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
When I opened them, I glanced down at my dress and felt myself fill with confidence. I was certainly dressed for the occasion if nothing else. I smiled and stepped forward.
A shallow set of stairs led down into the ballroom and I found myself standing alone at the top of them. As I stood there, the music stopped and a fanfare played. Just in case I wasn’t already self-conscious enough.
Across the room, I could see Brianna standing by my pastry tower. A magnificently dressed man and woman stood beside her. Presumably they were the earl and countess and I supposed that the fanfare preceded the dessert and some sort of speech. Probably a formal recognition of the coronation in far-away Rangmere.
My arrival had been just in time then. It had also distracted most of the guests who now stared up at me. I was glad the mask hid the color I could feel rushing into my cheeks. Not the quiet entrance I’d been planning.
I looked ba
ck across the ballroom and saw Brianna’s expression change from smug satisfaction to annoyance. I felt a petty satisfaction of my own. Then a rustle of movement through the crowd caught my attention.
Someone was moving towards the front of the room and the rest of the crowd drew back to make way. The young man that appeared looked so different in his formal suit that it took me a moment to recognize who it was. Stefan.
I froze. In my rush to warn him, I hadn’t actually thought about how it would feel to see him. His face was so familiar but our strange surroundings reminded me that everything had changed. I braced myself and tried to suppress the rush of joy I felt at the sight of him.
He took the stairs two at a time and was bowing over my hand before I had time to prepare myself. I remembered my mask and wondered if he even recognized me. My heart whispered that he had better not have been rushing across the ballroom to greet anyone else.
“My lady,” he said, straightening back up. “That’s a beautiful dress.” There was wonder in his voice and I narrowed my eyes at him.
The look he gave me in response had as much recognition as amazement so I relaxed and smiled.
“Dance with me?” He hadn’t let go of my hand and he drew me down the stairs before I had a chance to protest. I’d never danced at a ball before.
He signaled to the musicians and the music started back up. To my relief other couples quickly joined us and I was able to relax enough to follow his lead. When I wasn’t thinking about all of the eyes following us, it was actually quite enjoyable. It was certainly intoxicating to feel his arm around my waist and his hand clasping mine so firmly.
For a time I forgot why I’d come entirely. I forgot that the dress was only borrowed and that I wasn’t really the sort of girl who went to balls and danced with the handsome sons of earls. It was a very pleasant dream.
“You have excellent timing.” Stefan’s familiar voice jolted me back to reality. “Brianna was about to claim credit for that delicious looking pastry tower and I was about to say something entirely unbefitting the host of such an event. You saved me from disgracing myself.”
“I’ve saved you from more than that.”
He looked at me sharply so I explained what Brianna had said to me.
