So, I'm kind of editing the beginning of this, because I first wrote it over a year ago, and I've kind of improved. Plus, I changed the poet's name from Ky'loe (something I made up when I liked a boy named Kyle) to Bilanciato (which means 'balanced' in Italian (I think)) and wanted to include all the poems I wrote. Aaaaand, I originally wanted my penname to be Phillippa of the Phoenix FEATHER, which, you know, it is not. So, whatever, this is the new and better version. Enjoy.

Chapter One - Anticipation

I await the day that will come
When the oceans turn to the sky
I await the day that my kingdom
Is not split like a blueberry pie
– Bilanciato

"The prince is giving a ball!" The word spread through the street faster than wildfire. I heard it while I was buying the bread and cheese. I quickly thanked the grocer and ran home.

"Ada!" I cried. "Mother!" They gathered around me, with Ella panting from her run up the stairs. Although I had not called her name, she saw it fit to hear any news that concerned the other three females of the house.

"What is it?" Mother asked, worried. "Irene, did you get robbed?"

"No, no, this is good news." I smiled.

"Oh, come, Irene, tell us!" Ada begged.

"The prince is giving a ball!" I told them all about the ball. It was tonight, and the prince was going to pick his bride there. We all loved balls. All of us were smiling wide, except Mother.

"Now, daughters," said Mother. "You know that we have not been getting a lot of business lately –"

"Oh!" Ella stomped her foot. "We are always working! We never get to go to any balls!"

"Don't be too quick with your 'we,' Ella, dear," I said quietly.

Ella was lazy. She avoided work like the plague. I never had to work when my father was alive, she would complain. If my father knew I was scrubbing the floor, she would whine. I looked as if I have slept in cinders, she would wail. All the neighbors call me Cinder-Ella because I'm so dirty, she would sob, loudly.

To this Ada, Mother and I would say, We were rich before your father died, Ella, dear. Or Everyone has to work to keep the house clean and the shop running, Ella, dear. Or Shut up and clean, Ella, dear. Well, not that last one, but I had definitely thought about it. Mother was nice to her because she had loved William, her father. We were nice to her because we loved Mother.

We owned a store called The Fairy's Shoppe, full of dresses, bonnets, hats, shoes and parasols. We had to move out of our house and into the upper story when my stepfather died. Ella, who insisted on being dressed in only the latest fashions, spent most of our money. She lived like a princess, she never worked in the store, and she had a maid. After my stepfather died, the maid was fired and most of her things were put in the shop. Ella could never quite forgive us for that.

Ella pouted and said, "Well, can we go to the ball?"

"You have been working quite hard lately, so I suppose you could"

"Hooray!" Ella cried, a little too quickly.

". . . if you get all your chores done today."

"Hooray!" Ada and I cried. I had all ready bought food – all I had left to do was prepare and bake dinner. Ada, I knew, still had to clean the kitchen, being done with the laundry. Ella had only been assigned one chore: to clean the cellar. I had cleaned the cellar two days ago, so it would not take very long. Unsurprisingly, she had not even started.

"Boo," Ella said. On the other hand, maybe she said something slightly more offensive than that, which made me cry, "Ella!" and Mother color scarlet and Ada shake her head. It was two hours until the ball, so Ada and I started on our chores with much haste and giddy excitement. I cannot say the same for Ella, who sat around planning and day-dreaming. "Irene . . ." She called, coming into the kitchen, where Ada and I were working.

"Yes, Ella, dear," I answered with clenched teeth. I was chopping the bread and found myself clutching the knife rather tensely and trying to ignore several other things I should like to tell my stepsister.

"Could I wear your gloves for tonight? Mine are soiled."

"Perhaps, Ella, dear."

"And Ada, could I use your hair ribbon? The only one I have is much too old and ratty, and has lost all its color."

"We shall see, Ella, dear."

"And maybe your slippers, too? I dare say you have grown, and they will not fit."

"Maybe, Ella, dear," Ada spat.

"And it would be more sensible for me to wear your best gown, Irene. It is highly unlikely the prince will even look at you."

The knife in my hand stopped moving. Ada stood up off the floor she was scrubbing. Her mouth opened, no doubt to say something very rude, though not exactly uncalled for. I interrupted her before she even started, saying softly, "So, you believe the prince will find favor with you?" Ada stooped back down onto the floor.

"Well, who wouldn't, when I'm so gorgeous and slim, unlike you two?"

That was the last straw for Ada, and this time I did not even start to try to stop her. She sprang up, fists doubled and at the ready, though her mind had a slightly harder time with coming up with a concise insult. "You – you evil girl! Wicked, wicked girl! You spoiled, ill-tempered girl!"

"I'd rather be an ill-tempered angel than a good-tempered pig," Ella hissed. Then, Mother came in, stopping the fight in an instant.

"Girls, I heard . . . Ella, what are you doing in here? You should be in the cellar! I peeked down there, and it's as dirty as . . ." Ella just stood there. "Well? Off with you!" Ella scurried out of the room.

"Mother?" Ada said, wearily, "Must we –"

Mother interrupted her. She had asked it many times before. "Yes. We must. Girls, you know she's only seventeen –"

"Irene is seventeen herself, Mother." Ada was given an impatient look. By both Mother and me.

"Yes, dears, and you don't see me turning you out on your ear, do you? Her father made me promise to keep her and treat her as one of my own until she was married. Then, we will be able to never see her again," Mother promised, patting Ada's dirty hand affectionately.

"Couldn't you just marry her off?" Ada spoke, with a sort of empty hope.

"Darling," Mother said, tiring of the conversation, "she has the right to choose. Just like you two. Now stop dilly-dallying, you're going to be later than is even fashionably so unless you finish your chores soon."

I hurriedly cut the vegetables for the soup, and set the table, while Ada finished the floor, and cleaned the counter-top. It only took us an hour. We had an hour to eat and get ready. Mother called down the cellar, "Ella, dear, Ada and Irene are finished; we are going to eat supper. Come up, dear!"

Ella came up and ate with us, saying, "Are you sure you rinsed these vegetables, Irene?" and "This bread is stale . . . what? You bought it today? Well, it's certainly not fresh bread!" and "I'm still hungry!"

"I am quite sure, Ella, dear," and "I bought it today, Ella, dear," and "That's all we have, Ella, dear," we answered her. When the meal was finished, Ada and I went upstairs to be changed. We heard Mother and Ella arguing.

"You always pick on me! It is only because I am not your daughter! If my father was alive . . ."

I shook my head, and then broke into the song we had come up with one day, when Ella was being particularly nasty and lazy. "When will you learn?"

"That it's your turn?" Ada sang.

"We all must work," I untied my apron.

"Duty, do not shirk," Ada took off her old, soiled slippers.

"We give you a home, we feed you."

"We keep you, though we don't need you," Ada placed her corset on, saying, "Irene, could you?"

I nodded. "When will you learn, and heed what you hear?" I pulled hard, and left Ada gasping for breath.

"When will you be not evil, Ella, dear?" Ada finished. She eyed my sufficiently thin middle and picked up the other corset. "Your turn, Irene."

I put up my hands to block her. "I'm not wearing one of those! The last time I did, I fainted!" Ada smirked. "And you know I did!" We finished dressing and, with much laughter, started doing our hair.

"Oh, what I would give for your hair!" I moaned, pulling my fingers through Ada's abundant locks. "Golden and shiny," I sighed. "Instead of brown and so dull."

Ada laughed. "Stop complaining, you know what a bother my hair is. And your hair is perfect!" She looked at me, a teasing spark in her eye. "And I'm sure Nathaniel Grey would say the same . . ."

I shoved her playfully. "And Gregory Lawson would say the same about yours, dear sister," I paused. "If he stopped and looked," I giggled.

She made a face at her image in the mirror. "Gregory Lawson hasn't even noticed me. His eyes and brains are just for meat!" Mr. Lawson was the butcher's handsome apprentice whom Ada had chosen to sigh over, at least until someone who would converse with her came along.

Nathaniel Grey was our across-the-street-and-two-houses-down neighbor. He and I were best friends growing up, but then he grew sweet on me once we were old enough to notice that girls and boys were different. He would remind me constantly that I was beautiful and he loved me. I almost stopped doing anything with him, but then I started not minding his silly words so much, though I never said any in return. He was my escort to the ball.

Our hair was put up in a fashionable way: Ada's piled up on her head, mine brushed until it shone under the stars and adorned with several sprigs of blue forget-me-nots – my favorite flower. My gown was silver and blue. Ada's was gold. When the time to go came, Ada and Mother said good-bye to Ella and got into the rented carriage while I stayed home waiting for Nathaniel.

Ella was even more exasperating after they left. I fail to see why you should get to go. I am at least three times as beautiful as you are. The prince would never choose you.

"Ella, dear," I said calmly, trying not to let any sarcasm into the 'dear' part. "I don't want the prince to choose me."

"I'm sick of working all the time. One of these days, Irene, I am going to escape this hell-hole and live like a queen!" Ella's face was consumed by her hatred of her situation, and I wondered what anybody saw in her. How could you look into her face and see anything but greed? Then, I saw the Grey carriage pull up to our humble townhouse.

"Good-bye, Ella!" I practically ran into Nathaniel's arms. "Please, take me away!" I whispered to him. He laughed.

"So, is your evil step-sister giving you a hard time?" His eyes twinkled. My heart did a little flip. I was going to fall into those mesmerizing green things if I was not careful.

"Ella is not evil," I said, firmer than I felt. "She's just. . ." Nat looked at me, wondering how I would describe her. ". . . difficult!"

He laughed again, which I had hoped for. "Well, come on, Irene. We would not want to be late." He helped me into the carriage. We joked with each other and laughed the whole way there.

When we got out of the carriage, I was amazed at how many people were there. Carriages of every size and make filled the road to the castle. "Looks like we're going to have to walk from here," Nat said. He turned to the driver. "Pick us up around . . ." He looked at me.

"After midnight?" I asked. I didn't want to stay too long.

"Around one." The driver sped off into the night. Nat took my arm and led me to the gate. "Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?" He whispered in my ear.

My heart did another flip and I blushed, thankful for the dim light. "Don't be silly. You know this dress is old and the pearls secondhand."

"I'm not talking about the dress, Irene," he frowned. "Why won't you ever believe me when I tell you that you're beautiful?"

"I would believe you if you said Ella were beautiful, because she is, but me –" Nat's frown deepened. "And because you're just a lovesick boy, Nat, and I think your opinions might be a little biased," I told him.

"I'm not a boy anymore, Irene." Nathaniel said seriously. I did not like how this conversation was going. Nat had liked me ever since I was 13, but only recently had my heart been doing little flips. I had not even told him about that. For all he knew, I still thought of him as a friend. I did not want to rush anything. While it was true he was not a boy, I was not convinced he was a man, either.

"Is your brother coming to the ball?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "I dare say Lucinda Mus would love to go with –"

"Irene, I don't want to talk about Alexander." He was mad, and I did not like that he was, but I really didn't want to talk about marriage.

"Well, that isn't very nice, he's your only brother, you know, and. . ."

"Irene," he interrupted.

"Nat?" I said, trying to sound innocent.

He sighed, and his big hand took mine. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but you know how much I love you –"

"Yes, I do. To both of them. Now, can we please go?" I pleaded. Any more of this talk and I might be spouting love poems!

"All right, Irene, but if you keep putting it off until tomorrow, one of these days you'll run out of them." Nat replied.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why, that's very profound, Nathaniel." I said, glad we were finally off the subject of marriage. "I will have to remember it and repeat it to you when I want to talk about something you don't."

He reddened. "I read it out of a book, if you must know," he admitted, reading the question under my sarcasm.

"Oh, Nat, never mind," I said, reading the hurt in his voice. "I'm still your friend, even if you never think of anything original to say."

"I think of original things to say!"

"Do not."

"Do, too!"

"Name one." We were fighting, but at least we were not fighting like adults, anymore. We playfully shoved each other, but then took on a more dignified air as we journeyed into more populated ground. We were not dignified enough not to whisper to each other about the other couples, though.

We laughed at the tall woman and the short man, and we stared after a man so dark; he seemed burnt of the sun. There was no one that dark in our town. We had stubborn opinions on where from he came. Nat said he obviously came from East Lolina, while it was evident to me that he came from Jhitii. He appeared lonely. I made a mental note to talk to him at the ball.

Something else caught my eye. "Oh, Nat, look! There is Mother and Ada! Come on, before I lose sight of them." I could see Ada's yellow hair bobbing away from me. I hurried to keep after them, slipping in my clumsy shiny shoes.

"Ada! Ada, wait!" I caught her just before the door.

"There you are, dear," said Mother. "Hello, Nathaniel."

"Hello, Mrs. Graham." Nat said cordially, bowing politely. Dignity aside, we all walked as a group and I told Ada about the dark man.

"Oh, I saw him, too!" said Ada. "He looked very lonely, don't you think?"

"That is exactly what I thought! We must introduce ourselves to him." Then, we were at the door. "I suppose we'll be introduced separately."

"I suppose," sighed Mother, walking to the man at the door. "Mrs. Broen and Miss Graham, if you please." They walked through the door and the man said,

"Mrs. Broen and Miss Graham!"

"Mr. Grey and Miss Irene, you think?" Nathaniel suggested with a smile and a hint of a wink.

"Oh, just say Nathaniel Grey and Irene Graham." He did. "Honestly, Nat, you can be so silly sometimes, I swear, if we were not –"

"Nathaniel Grey and Irene Graham!" said the announcer, interrupting me.

"If we were not what?" asked Nat suspiciously, only I never got to answer him. That is when we saw the ballroom and found ourselves quite incapable of speech.

This story does indeed improve as it goes along. Next time: Le romance! (doo-do-do-dooooo!)

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