Stroke of Midnight: Future Fairytales

by Dawn, Stella

  For one night I will allow myself the luxury to not be king.

  I have a nagging thought that Cyndi might come to the ball and be swayed by a Duke or Knight or some lesser nobility. Someone who boasted and wore his Coronet every chance he could get. Something angry licks at me from the inside.

  I resolve to make sure Cyndi doesn't have a chance to find out.

  11

  Cyndi

  With everyone preoccupied with getting ready for the masquerade ball, I have the morning to myself.

  I take a palace tour on my own. There is a large open room further down the hall. I see a baby grand piano tucked away in the back corner.

  Running my fingertips across the keys, I think perhaps living in a palace isn't so bad after all.

  I am pleased to realize that my fingers still remember the song I had played at my recital. I look out the watery glass window to roses in bloom. I can clearly see my mother's face, full of love and pride, her arms folded over her swollen abdomen. My eyes sting and I squeeze them shut. A moment later I open them to discover the King has come into the room and is watching me play.

  "I didn't mean to interrupt."

  "I'm just playing around."

  "That sounds very beautiful. I heard you while I was walking down the hall. Actually, I have something for you."

  He literally has me cornered. I'm sitting on the piano bench with my back to a corner. I would have to go past him to get out, then notice that he's holding a book. I'm sure it isn't something I'd like to read but I am curious to know what he thinks I would enjoy reading. Probably it's a copy of Little Women.

  He tosses the book onto the bench beside me. Cinderella. Interesting. Well, I have to admit he has a sense of humor.

  "It's a classic." He says with a small upturn of his chiseled lips.

  12

  Cyndi

  A Masquerade ball indeed. Luckily I had purchased gowns for my step mother and step sisters before we arrived at the palace. Each one had been exquisite but that doesn't spare me from hearing all their disparaging comments.

  First Tori comes to me in tears. "You bought it two sizes too small. I can barely breathe."

  "Those were Gwendolyn's instructions. But look, it has lacing that runs up the back. Turn around, I can loosen it for you."

  "Well, now I can manage to breathe but I still won't be able to move." She looks at her reflection in my mirror and shakes her head. "No amount of dieting can make me a size six."

  "You look beautiful Tori. I think the ivory color suits your personality."

  At this time, Dora barges in the door, carrying her dress over her arm and her face is a storm cloud.

  "Here I am, the intended bride of Prince Rupert. I'm to be introduced to all of Delta Ohr, in a pink gown. It's a masked ball, I need a mask. Something to make a big impression.

  "The color of your gown looks like a flamingo," says Tori.

  "Yes," says Dora. "I can go as a flamingo. No wait. I could. I want a long long neck so the flamingo's head and bill stands above everybody else. You have to make that for me, Cyndi."

  Dora's eyes get big and bright. She's locked onto her idea and now she's got another one.

  "Tori's dress is cream colored. She can be a graceful swan with a long curved neck. The neck of her's can't be as long as mine but my sister must stand out too."

  "Oh, I d-d-don't want to stand out, Dora. You know how clumsy I am. I can barely move in this dress."

  "You have to do it. The dress is slimming. It doesn't matter if you can't dance. You must compliment me. Your swan will make my flamingo look amazing."

  Tori opens her mouth to make a silent protest, but Dora is too involved in her own thoughts to notice.

  "Yes," Dora exclaims. "We will look so amazing, no one will look at anyone else at the ball."

  * * *

  Hours later, I had constructed two bird heads but they need long necks. I go into my closet and pull out my one nice dress. It's far from being a gown suitable to wear at a ball. But it does have narrow long sleeves. I cut them off and attach them to the constructed bird heads. With the addition of many more feathers and sequins I am able to attach the headdresses to the masks.

  Dora tries hers on and looks into the mirror. She squeals in pleasure. Then the weight of the flamingo's head begins to collapse the long neck, like an accordion. Quickly, I find a length of narrow bamboo and connect fishing wire to the center of the flamingo's head. Tori and I stand just behind Dora. If we keep our arms outstretched and hold the pole aloft, maintaining tension on our strings, the impossible feather contraption stays buoyant.

  Dora claps and jiggles with pleasure. "Now, like a real princess, I can have attendants."

  "I don't want attendants," said Tori.

  We compromise and make the neck of Tori's swan short and thick. Her swan's head protrudes from her forehead and squats on her head. Much like it is laying an egg. Tori simply has to remember not to turn her head from side to side and to walk very slowly.

  Finally, my sisters are satisfied. Just before leaving, Tori says, "What do you plan to wear."

  "Nothing. I am not going to the ball. I plan to spend the rest of the evening reading. You go on and have fun."

  13

  Cyndi

  I'm curled up on the bed with a long goose necked lamp aimed over my book. I'm wearing my sweat pants beneath the comforter and I have a thermos of tea on my bedside table.

  Sounds of the ball come distantly to my ears. I am happy for Dora and proud of Tori for holding a thin line against her sister's enthusiasm.

  Mostly I'm grateful not to attend the ball. I had been re-reading Pride and Prejudice which I love like an old sweater and a careworn stuffed animal. I glance at the book I received today.

  I know that King Cod meant this book as an insult, but I intend to love it. I'm going to show him by having a great time reading it all night long.

  Cinderella.

  * * *

  Petros

  An hour before the ball begins, I'm pacing my room in my costume. I can't stand the idea of Cyndi going to the ball and being fawned and flattered by the nobility. It irks me to think of all of those poppycocks twittering around her.

  There is only one thing for me to do. I stride down to the Dowager's wing, taking care to listen at doorways and make sure that I'm not seen.

  I stop outside Cyndi's door and insert a key and turn it. There, she's locked in. My problem is solved. I turn swiftly on my boot and return to my rooms.

  * * *

  Cyndi

  I snuggle under my sheets. I put down Pride and Prejudice and stare at Cinderella. The King could not be more wrong in his misconceptions about my family and myself.

  Can't they turn down the music at that stupid ball?

  I plan to be up all night reading and I don't want any distractions.

  * * *

  Dowager Maggie

  I have been watching the King with interest. He's been acting so out of sorts, I've decided to follow him.

  He cuts a fine figure in his costume. But he doesn't look happy at all. He wears a scowl on his face. He crosses the royal quarters and cuts through the landing and then, with stealth, continues on to the Dowager's wing.

  Now he really has my interest. I can't turn back now.

  Hiding in an alcove, I watch him stop at Cyndi's room. He's locked her door.

  I wait a good while and then go over to test if the door is really locked. It is. I pull out my own set of keys and silently insert one and give it a turn to the left. Just to be sure, I gently twist the doorknob. Yes, it's unlocked.

  * * *

  Cyndi

  I misjudged this book. This is great. The more I read the better it gets.

  Who needs a real ball when you can read about one?

  * * *

  Gwendolyn

  Just before going downstairs, I make my way to Cyndi's room without making a sound.

  I take out my set of keys. Being the mother of a future princ
ess has certain advantages. Looking both ways down the long hall, I'm assured only the two of us remain upstairs in the Dowager's wing. I insert the key and turn it to the right. There is the faintest click. It's locked.

  I turn and walk back to the landing. I don't want to be too far behind Dora and Tori. I can't wait to see how they are received.

  I have done what any mother would do. Tori must have every advantage.

  * * *

  Cyndi

  I can't believe Cinderella's step-mother locked her in her room to prevent her from going to the ball! I better keep reading to see what happens next.

  14

  The Ball

  For Dora's part, the evening is a success. She succeeds in making Prince Rupert draw in a deep breath and exclaim, "My dear, you have outdone yourself."

  The female guests put their heads together and speak amongst themselves behind their fans. Upon her approach, the King raises his eyebrows high and whispers into the Prince's ear, "Do you suppose we need to have everyone sign an accidental injury waver?"

  "Nonsense. She won't hurt herself. I've never seen anyone embrace the masquerade more whole-heartedly. Don't you just love her enthusiasm?"

  Dora's attendants follow her every move, as she cuts through the crowded ballroom, Prince Rupert meets her in the middle of the dance floor. He takes her hand and she puts her free hand upon his shoulder, sweeping back her feathery wings and lifting her chin to receive a kiss upon what might be each of her cheeks. The waltz begins and they spin slowly in a circle. The attendants follow, lurching behind Dora's every step.

  The attendants are under strict orders to give the Prince and his fiancé complete privacy. They take care to keep their eyes glued upon the flamingo's head above them.

  The Prince and his partner naturally hold the center to themselves. Dora's two additional attendants also need space to maneuver while Dora dances. The quartet is stunning. Everyone seems to think so. All eyes are upon them.

  When the Prince and his magnificent Dora stand along the side to greet the many well wishers, the attendants keep their arms raised to counteract the weight at the end of their lines. It is like holding up a kite made of lead.

  At intervals, the Prince makes arrangements for the attendants to be relieved as their arms tire. After each of his servants have taken a turn, only Bishop remains to be asked. But the elderly butler only purses his lips and shakes his head.

  "I would love to attend the lovely young lady but I must look after the needs of everyone else at the ball."

  15

  The Dowager’s Wing

  Dowager Maggie

  The ball is well underway. I have seen everyone arrive in their finery except one. I'm curious as to why she hasn't come down.

  I smile and nod at dignitaries, public servants and other guests. I give Bishop a nod and he opens the interior door for me.

  Before long I'm standing outside Cyndi's door. I gently test the doorknob. It won't turn. Locked. How curious. Well, it's a good thing I have the key.

  I unlock the door again and wait.

  All girls love balls. It's only a matter of time before she emerges like a butterfly from the dark cocoon of her room.

  * * *

  Cyndi

  Man, Cinderella is really having a good time at this ball. I think there might even be some action with that sexy prince. I love reading about it.

  16

  Petros

  I looked for this one night to be my personal escape, one night to be a man and not a king. I had believed in a fairy tale. Looking at all the women in their finery, pigeons, peacocks, swans and flamingos. Birds of a feather indeed. I console myself with a glass of brandy and take occasional sips. I do not desire to get drunk, I mostly want to retreat upstairs to my library and read. If only someone had locked me in my room tonight.

  The Wests are in their element, at least Gwendolyn and Dora. Tori looks like she would rather be anywhere else on earth. My heart goes out to her. Not enough to go over and comfort her myself--if I do, I'm sure Gwendolyn will take an interest. Tori waits next to the buffet table. It's not a great place to stand if you want to dance. Someone is more likely to edge you aside for a slice of cake or to refill their punch glass.

  The family is handsome. Gwendolyn pushes the envelope by wearing a low cut gown with a lace insert. At her age it is never a good thing to flaunt bony arms. No amount of toning takes care of the little jiggle on the backside where those muscles seem to exist for no reason and turn to jelly well before the others.

  I suppose I got the habit trying to imagine how my mother's arms might have aged. She left us before anything that unfortunate and human settled around her. Vanished in her prime with everything she could take with any value, all the jewels, cash, crown. Laden with booty, beauty and whatever was of material value. She absconded with the greater part of my father's heart, without concern for the two of us she left behind. We had no value.

  In the end, she even took our father from us. He only lasted six months without her. I remember the day of his funeral, Rupert and me running through the castle with only our dear Dowager to restrain us.

  Getting a little melodramatic there, King Petros. I can't help it. This ball is a real downer.

  17

  Tori

  Once the crowd sees Dora and her train, I stop to watch their progress into the center of the festivities. My breath is constricted from the feathers billowing from the jowls of my swan. Whenever I breathe, they tickle my nose. I feel like I am going to sneeze and I long for a handkerchief. I don't want to spray the guests, so I decide to stay outside the elegant crowd. The men are dashing and the women look like slender urns, with graceful black or white masks held aloft by delicate sticks.

  I have feathers sticking out of my face and they have fans with which to hide their eyes. I envy their range of movement. At the moment, my range feels more like a pillar of salt balancing a floppy tickling headdress that has a mind of its own.

  I feel a comfortable breeze and look longingly out the opening of the dark doorway. Sadly, I cannot leave but I don't want to be in the way. So I decide to stand next to the buffet. I hope that the white linen table will camouflage my dress and swan's head. Unlike Dora, I never wish to be a spectacle.

  At least at the moment, everyone is too busy dancing to notice me standing here. I hear a rumble and can't turn my head far enough around to know what is coming. Then, several carts roll by. I imagine they came in through the dark doorway.

  Men, head to toe in white, collect around me and set out giant steaming covered dishes.

  They are wear tall puffy white hats, like the one I have seen on Bastian. I look up into the eyes of one who places a covered platter on the table next to me. I recognize Bastian at the same moment he sees me.

  He gives me a wide smile and a wink. "Why look at you. Don't you look good enough to eat?"

  "I'm a swan." I say with a little whimper.

  "Yes, I got that. Wait a minute. Are you are not having fun?"

  "How can I? This dress won't let me breathe and this mask tickles when I manage to take a breath."

  "My little goose. You need me don't you. I can help you if you come with me."

  Bastian takes my hand. His is sure, strong and warm. I am happy to go anywhere with him.

  No one watches for all eyes are on Dora. I'm so grateful for Bastian's rescue. It is the perfect moment to escape.

  If I hadn't been wearing such a tight dress I would be breathing a sigh of relief. Instead I walk across gravel and over grass, not really knowing where we are going.

  Bastian leads me to a quiet gazebo where the noise of the party and sounds of the kitchen fade away. Only the strains of music softly intwine us. The ballroom had been so bright it takes time for my eyes to adjust.

  "Have you danced?" he asks, voice low.

  I try to shake my head, and a feather tickles the tip of my nose, making me sneeze. "Remember, I can't even move."

  He turns me around and ins
pects my dress. "Wow, you are packed inside there. It's more like sausage casing than dress. Are you wearing anything under it?"

  "A slip," I say.

  Without another word he unzips the bodice and helps me wiggle out of my fashionable prison.

  "Oh, that is so much better. I can breathe." The relief is instant. But my nose still tickles.

  Bastian's toque and my swan's head come together. He takes off his hat and then he helps me shed this awkward concession I made for Dora. I nearly cry with relief. The feather mask plops onto the grass. It looks like a badly constructed nest.

  "I can hear the music now. It's a lovely waltz."

  Bastian takes me in his arms and we begin to dance. Then, Bastian kisses me. "You don't need a costume to prove you are my Goosey."

  "What does that make you then, my gander?"

  "Yes," He has the most wonderful smile. "We are birds of a feather. And, you know, geese mate for life."

  Bastian grabs me by my buttocks and lifts me up. I entwine my legs around his waist to help him support my weight and he twirls me around and around.

  18

  Cyndi

  There is a knock on my door.

  A voice that sounds like dowager Maggie’s asks, ”May I come in?”

  ”Why yes, of course."

  The knob turns and the little blue eyed dowager pokes her head in and gives me a look of surprise. "Did you realize your door was locked?"