Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale

by Lenore, Lani

  “I would see you stoned were I not so afraid your spirit would come back to haunt me! Go! And do not come back or you will die, you wicked wicked girl! I hope you die a cold and lonely death!”

  Cindy stared back with hollow eyes, neither of them seeming to notice that the fire had suddenly vanished from the house.

  “I wish the same upon you,” the girl said as her last statement, “but the difference is that you truly will.”

  Cindy then turned in the street – and was gone.

  While Isabella had been so pleased that the girl had left, that last promise – and it was a promise – still stuck to her mind. But now, within Christian’s own house, staring at him through the door, she forced herself to forget all that. To everyone else, Cindy was dead, and so she would also be to Isabella. All there was left to do was claim what was hers. Christian was still engaged to the dying Morgana Thompson, but Isabella was not worried about that. That young woman would be dead very soon. She had seen to that herself. Now, she pushed open the door further, letting herself in.

  Christian was still staring into the mirror, and though her form was clearly visible behind his own, he did not even lift his eyes to her reflection. She thought over what she should say for a moment, but then decided she would just see what came out.

  “Are you going to sit there forever?” she asked in a gentle tone.

  He said nothing. His gaze did not break from his own eyes.

  “Could you at least tell me what your purpose is?”

  Silence. She knew she should be patient, but she felt frustrated. She was nothing to him, and he ignored her accordingly. Very delicately, she rested a hand on his shoulder. His body did not respond – not with a flinch or recoil.

  “I know I’ve been insensitive,” she said, “but I truly am sorry to see you so upset. I suppose real love does that to a man.”

  Christian’s stare still did not break, and suddenly she was furious.

  “She had you under some sort of thrall, Christian!” Isabella insisted, her fingers digging tighter into his shoulder as she spoke. “I know she did! But you can be free now. I–I’m going to do my best to take care of you no matter what.”

  How long would this behavior last? It was, of course, only the first night after the fire, but she hadn’t expected him to act so strangely. Could he truly have cared about that wretched girl so much?

  “Do you need anything?” she asked softly with worry in her voice.

  He did not respond, and by now she did not expect him to.

  “Well if you need me, you know where I will be.”

  She left it at that, taking her hand from his shoulder and leaving him. As she shut the door, she glanced back. It was just he and the mirror left alone, staring each other down.

  3

  By some miracle – or perhaps by curse – Isabella got what she wanted that night. Christian came to her as she was laying awake in the dark. He said nothing, brought only by the soft movement of footsteps near the bed.

  “Christian…?” she whispered lightly, but he did not respond.

  She felt the sheets shifting as her body was uncovered. A hand touched her side. Weight on the mattress. Her breathing quickened as she felt him press down on top of her. His hands guided her apart–

  And then, pain. She opened her mouth to cry out, but the sound was muffled by his hand clamped across her mouth. She heard a light, hushing shhhhh. He started again, none too kindly. She pressed her hand against the headboard to keep her head from hitting against it. This was not how she’d wanted it; not at all how she’d imagined it. But he did not care about her suffering, and he did not stop until he was done.

  When he had finished, he rose and simply left her there, uncovered in the cold. She could do nothing as she laid there, only stare up at the ceiling in disbelief. She was stained with blood. Warm, transparent liquid moistened her legs. She could hardly believe that it had actually happened, but the pain and numbness was too apparent to deny. In the dark, she could still feel the coldness of his demeanor.

  Isabella shivered.

  4

  By the morning, Morgana was dead, and her cousin, Beatrice, passed on soon after. Isabella made her way, pulling her weight around the house and bewitching Samantha with her pleasing manner.

  It was only soon after that the decision was made. It was not by Christian, but his mother. After the man had stated that God had not even wanted him to marry – because of Morgana’s death – Samantha had put her foot down and told him that he would marry Isabella.

  Christian’s defenses had fallen. His energy left him and his will to fight was gone. Every time that Isabella took his arm, he could feel her draining the life from him. Public appearances came and went and Isabella spoke to him as though he was listening. It was as if she had forgotten what he had shown her that night on the mattress – his absence of any feeling for her. Still, like a fool, she loved him. She truly was ignorant.

  Weeks passed and the wedding came closer. Every smile had passed from Christian’s face. Soon, this game would be over – and the only winner would be Isabella.

  Chapter Seventeen

  1

  Three weeks later…

  Standing in the chapel, the tune from the organ bit at Christian’s ears as he looked over all of the faces in the pews. He didn’t even know some of the people who were crying for the joy of the union, and there on the front sat his parents – his mother smiling proudly with a tissue in hand and his father holding no expression in particular. Actually, the man looked as though he was ready to nod off at any moment.

  Poor, distant ghost… He hadn’t been the same since his sister had died three years ago. It was only so long that one could have a love affair with his own sister before his jealous wife would seek to have her dead. It was a shame to Christian; he had always liked Aunt Kate.

  But it was her death that led me to meet Cindy.

  His mother had invited damn-near the entire town to the wedding. There were more people gathered now than came to services – before the witch scare of course. It was sickening to him, but in the end, what did he care?

  Sunlight flooded in through the open doors and Christian could see the carriage outside, waiting to take him off to the beginning of his miserable destiny. His fate with Isabella would be less than pleasant, but he had lost all feeling inside. Now he stood for all eyes to see, in one vest or the other from the tailor shop. He didn’t recall which. He took an accepting breath and let his mind drift away to the object of his every thought for the past three weeks: Cindy.

  Cindy…

  Once the fire had been mysteriously vanquished from the house, he had searched everywhere looking for the girl. She had not been found. He’d taken the rest of the rainy day, but still there was nothing. He did not believe she had died in the fire, but he had accepted that she was dead. He had imagined that she had killed herself, for it was part of the prophecy that one would die by her own hand. He accepted this, only because it hurt less than thinking she had run away from him.

  After their matrimonial joining, he suspected that he and Isabella would die leaving this place. Two will die together on the road. That would be the end of the prophecy. If that was how it would be, he welcomed it. There was nothing else to go on for.

  Isabella came now, dressed grandly in white, though Christian thought the color was unbefitting of her. Her hair had been pulled up and curled into ringlets, and a long veil fell over her and trailed down her back. Any other man would have been pleased to have such a lovely bride, but all Christian saw was his defeat coming on fast.

  The minister muttered on with his words as Isabella smiled in victory and adoration. Christian did not hear the words; in only a short while his life would be done. He began to hear the sniffling of the crowd. The service did seem to be lovely, didn’t it? Oh yes, so wonderful. Could they not see his unhappiness? His Cinderella was gone and nothing made sense.

  As the minister finished his words, Christian absently mu
ttered an ‘I do’ and lifted the veil over Isabella’s awaiting face. She was a corpse in his eyes.

  He lowered his head now, coming closer to her painted lips. With one kiss his fate would be locked tightly, and then he and his beloved would go off to meet God together. He moved closer, beginning to feel her breath against his face. She slowly began to raise her lips to aid him in his venture. A second later, his lips brushed slightly against hers – and in the next second he stopped.

  A shadow rested in Christian’s eye and he turned his head slowly to the open door. There, standing in the middle, shrouded by the distant sun, was a dark shadow. It was a woman wearing a broad hat and dark dress.

  Is it…? Christian wondered. Could it be?

  People in the assembly turned to the door, whispering amongst themselves as to what had stopped the ceremony. The woman standing in the door was motionless, looking down at the floor, but finally she raised her head. From under her hat, dark eyes could be seen, set in a pale face. Her hair was pulled up carefully under her hat and her dress was rich and lavish in color – the color of dark roses. It fell so silent inside the church that the cawing of crows could be heard from the eaves outside.

  Christian couldn’t take his eyes off of her, but denied the complete urge to run to her immediately. What was she doing here? He’d thought she was dead! Where had she been? He was just as angry as he was elated.

  “Cindy…” The name was only a passing of breath between his lips, but Isabella heard it.

  He instinctively turned to step toward the one he loved, but Isabella grabbed his shoulders harshly, forcing him to turn to her. She looked at him with confusion in her eyes, as though her simple gaze would make him forget about Cindy – or at least she hoped. The murmurs from the crowd began to get louder. Not one of them knew the girl at the door, and they had no idea how it could possibly have a bearing on this wedding.

  Finally, looking down into Isabella’s pleading green eyes, Christian smiled at her. He then leaned forward to kiss her, touching his lips gently to hers. It was sealed now; she was his.

  The gathered people seemed not to know whether they should stand for this kiss or to sit quietly to wait for more. At the door, the young woman turned and walked out of the church, though one would swear there was a faint smile on her lips.

  2

  The kiss continued, and all Isabella could think was that it was finished. He had chosen her and there was no turning back. She was Mrs. Christian Charming.

  He continued to kiss her as his new bride, twisting Isabella’s lips, and then suddenly he became rougher. There was such violence in it! He held her so tightly that she could not pull away. Isabella felt a wave of panic. His kiss was terrible, but she did not reach the point of fear until he sank his teeth sharply into her tongue.

  She shrieked against his mouth, but little sound came out. Even through her struggling, he would not stop his painful kiss. He did not until he tasted her blood in his mouth.

  When he finally released her, Isabella shot back in pain but said nothing as she looked up to him – a smear of blood resting on his smiling lips. Isabella pulled herself away in surprise, keeping her mouth shut tightly. She could say nothing of this. She was a slave to her love. Isabella swallowed her own blood as it flooded into her mouth, but she could not hold it in completely. A spill of it seeped out and splattered against her white dress.

  As the people of the crowd tried in vain to figure out the situation, Christian walked away from Isabella and down the aisle to the door, where Cindy had exited. Isabella looked on in pain and anger as she watched him go. Samantha rose in protest but said nothing, only to turn red with anger and embarrassment for this very public humiliation. Christian was on his way out, away from them all, but first, there was something that needed to be said. Before he exited the church, he turned himself back toward all the faces peering at him.

  “I just want to thank you all for coming,” he said, and that was all. He left.

  The carriage outside waited to take Christian and Isabella to their new home at Blackfield manor, but he met Cindy there instead, helping her inside and then ordering to be taken away.

  Inside the chapel, everyone murmured of the strange events. Samantha was outraged but could think of nothing to say in her own defense.

  This was, indeed, a dark day for the Charming household.

  3

  Alone and ruined, Isabella had climbed to the top of the church, peering out the window from the belfry. She had felt no hope and climbed the stairs quickly to watch as the carriage slowly rolled away with Christian inside – with her! Tears streamed down Isabella’s face for the pain in her heart and in her mouth. It was over now. She had lost.

  She spit out some of the blood into her palm and wiped it across the window where she saw the carriage departing, then sank to the floor in defeat. Soon they would be out of sight, and her life would be nothing. Perhaps Samantha would still take pity on her, even perhaps welcome her under their roof as her daughter, but still there was emptiness deep within her.

  She had lost her mother and sister, but more importantly, she had lost Christian. Was none of this worth it? All the planning she had done and all the underhanded things she had looked to was worthless? The girl took a deep breath and let the blood run from the corners of her mouth. Life was meaningless.

  Rising, Isabella headed to the stairs that would lead her back down into the church. None of the money was worth this pain. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, and turning back to the blood stained window behind her, she knew what had to be done.

  Closing her eyes, she ran forward blindly, her white dress flying behind her. In a crash of colored glass, Isabella fell forward from the tower and flew through the sky like an innocent white angel, only to crash down into the dirt below, smearing the red blood across the ground from her crushed body.

  Departing people screamed as her lifeless form lay unmoving in the street in front of the church. It was truly a disturbing sight. This bride would only be that of the devil.

  4

  The carriage rolled onward into the distance. For several moments, Cindy and Christian only stared at one another. He saw that the stitches were gone from the side of her face, the cut having healed to a red mark that was covered by powder. She noticed the sunken nature of his cheeks. He’d lost weight since she’d seen him last. As he looked at her, all his anger faded away; as she looked at him, she saw what she had missed so much.

  She wiped the blood from his mouth with her black glove and claimed his mouth for her own. He kissed her back without restraint, feeding the hunger that had festered inside. His lips pressed against hers greedily while his hands ran through her short hair, casting off the hat without care. Her fragrance was intoxicating and he griped her shoulders tighter to him so she would not escape him once more.

  The girl’s tongue was slow and smooth though his mouth tasted of blood. He held her closer still, hearing the beating of her heart and the rhythm of her breathing. Suddenly he pulled away, removing his lips from hers yet keeping her close.

  “What is it?” she asked gently.

  “You must explain this to me,” he said. “Where have you been?”

  “Isabella banished me,” she said with a light smirk, touching his lips. “I was outside burying my rat when the fire started. She caught me with threats. So, I left. What could I have done? It would have been unwise for me to come back before the ceremony itself, so I waited. I thought Isabella would get more of what she deserved if she was to have you walk out on her. And I knew your parents wouldn’t be pleased.”

  “Clever shrew,” he said in admiration. “What about the fancy attire.”

  “I’ve been with my godmother,” she said with a smile, and Christian didn’t understand. “I do believe everything is going to be alright for us now. I finally finished the dream about my mother and father. It was just as Amanda had explained it to be.”

  “And now you know that you will get what is yours,” he
confirmed.

  “I have it now,” she confirmed touching his face.

  Christian felt content at this, smiling once again, but suddenly, his expression fell.

  “I slept with her,” he confessed abruptly, “but it was out of spite and hate. I admit I was angry with you as well. I thought you’d taken your own life or that you’d left me. I spent days staring at myself in the mirror, thinking myself guilty for your death or disappearance. It wasn’t long before the anger faded and I felt nothing at all. I was completely empty without you. I took the shoe to Charlotte without telling you. I suppose I could have ruined everything. I thought I had.”

  Cindy touched his lips gently, silencing him. There was no anger or disappointment in her face as she looked at him.

  “None of that matters,” she said. “Everything has been resolved.”

  He felt so grateful toward her for being the only one who understood him. For that reason, she held his heart in her hand. Now he would be with her. As long as they were together, nothing mattered. They were off to live a life together and this carriage would take them there. Christian sat back in the seat stiffly as a thought reached him. The carriage… The prophecy!

  After a joining of troubled souls, eight of the living shall be of the dead. One shall die a public death; three shall die of a strange illness; another shall be cast into the fire. One will die by his own merit…

  All of those things had been fulfilled save for one, and Christian felt a tightness in his chest as he realized that it was coming on steadily.

  Two will die together on the road…

  Christian’s thoughts came to a sudden halt as his body became tense and he turned his head to look out the window. The scene before him made his heart jump. The carriage was traveling on a narrow road atop a steep hill. Looking down, Christian could see that the fall was a long distance. If they were to run off the road, death would surely be waiting. His grip tightened around the window.