A month and two days...?
Oh my dears. I am dreadfully sorry.
I was at the beach. And before that I was at a funeral so I think I have an excuse!
Indeed.
Disclaimer: If I owned Cinderella, I'd be very happy indeed. But I don't so -sob-
Dream Come True
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Chapter 4
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Ch-THUNK!
Her shoulders jarred as the dull axe blade cracked into the wood, splitting it to the base in one fell swoop.
Ch-THUNK!
She gripped the rough wood of the axe handle and lifted her arm to split the last piece in two.
Ch-THUNK!
She breathed heavily as the chill wind beat ferociously at the back of her neck, nearly freezing the sweat that dripped down her spine. She straightened, wincing as the last hour and a half of bending over finally took its toll on her back muscles. Cinderella turned and found her eyes falling on the same familiar gate and the empty road behind it.
Two months of looking…and he has not come.
She sighed and moved to pick up the firewood, attempting to clear her mind completely.
I miss his face…
Again, it was no use. With no other pleasant person around to enjoy, she simply was forced to keep her thoughts fixated on a being that cared, truly. And yet she reminded herself every morning that he would not come that day, and would never come the days following. He would disappear from her life just as her father had.
She stopped in her tracks on the way in the kitchen door, nearly dropping all of the firewood as a remembrance flashed across her mind. Today was her father's birthday…and the anniversary of his death. Her breath caught in her chest--how could she have forgotten?
Cinderella bolted through the kitchen, into the main hall, and up the steps. She strode quickly into Drizella's room, throwing the firewood into the grate with haste, ignoring the screams of protest coming from her sister's bed.
"What on earth are you making so much racket for? You're expected to complete your chores quietly!" Drizella sat up as Cinderella lit the fire and moved past her without a word. "Where's my breakfast? I want my tea!"
"Make your own tea." Cinderella shut the door, silencing any further argument between them.
She tried her best to make the least noise in Anastasia's room, realizing she would have to deal with twice the temper Drizella showed in the mornings. Anastasia's loud snores did not falter, however, and she was able to exit without interruption. Her stepmother's room remained silent as she entered. She treaded lightly on the dusty carpet, barely breathing as she set each piece of firewood into the hearth gently. She froze after she lit the match for the fire, listening intently to her stepmother's soft breathing. She lit the fire and tiptoed to the door. Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, and her heart beat with triumph as she took a quiet step into the hallway.
"Just where do you think you are going?" a cold voice froze her insides. She turned slowly and faced her stepmother with growing confidence.
"I have an important meeting in the marketplace today. I expect to be back in time to make breakfast--"
"And I expect you to keep your word. No dilly-dallying. Because of this little trip of yours, I will have extra chores prepared for you when you return."
"Yes, Stepmother." she bowed her head and turned to leave, her heart sinking, both with disappointment in herself and the dim prospects of the morning.
- - -
She grabbed her shawl, throwing it about her shoulders before she bolted out the kitchen door. Her heart beat quickly, her mind a whirl of inconsistent thoughts. She nearly forgot to grab a handful of cold-weather wildflowers before she made her way past the rusty gate. Cinderella strode quickly, her feet guiding her in the right direction without being told. She allowed her swirling thoughts to take over most of her conscience. The world around her faded as she slipped further into her exhausted mind.
I feel as though I nearly betrayed Father…how could I forget? After all these years--
She caught herself suddenly as she nearly tripped on a stone in the road.
Oh, I am a distracted fool!
She slowly emerged from her thoughts as her eyes focused on the tops of her feet; they had stopped moving, frozen in front of a brass gate. She looked up, her eyes searching the deserted graveyard she knew so well. Her feet moved forward with a will of their own until she stood before a weatherworn and faded gravestone.
The front of the headstone was completely smooth from years of harsh rain and winds. Small indentations of the year and epitaph were all that remained. She kneeled on the ground, setting the wildflowers next to the headstone. She rubbed a hand across the smooth face of the rock. Her eyes closed and a clear picture formed in her mind.
She saw the gravestone as it was many years ago, freshly carved above the clotted dirt that covered her father's casket. She stood alone, a small girl without a hand to hold for comfort. Her stepfamily stood to the side, her stepmother wearing the traditional black gown in mourning. The woman held a white kerchief to her cheek to catch the occasional tear that dripped from her eyes. Cinderella let the tears fall down her cheeks, ignoring the burn of Drizella and Anastasia's scathing looks. They no doubt blamed her for a waste of their precious time. Footsteps approached, and her stepmother was soon standing next to her, looking down at the freshly packed earth.
"It is such a tragedy, my dear. I truly loved your father…" Her stepmother seemed to hold back sobs, but Cinderella saw through her foolish antics. The woman placed a black gloved hand on her shoulder, "I understand how utterly devastated you must feel." Cinderella shook her shoulder from her stepmother's grasp and stared defiantly into the unfeeling face above her.
"I'm sorry, Lady Tremaine, but you don't." she clenched her hands into fists, nearly crushing the freshly cut flowers she held between her fingers. Her voice rose to a new height despite the lump in her throat. "You will never understand--"
"Foolish girl!" a gloved hand smacked her firmly across the face. Anastasia and Drizella instantly stopped their bickering and fell silent. "You will only refer to me as 'Stepmother,' do you understand?"
Cinderella put a hand up to her cheek, shocked at the changed character of the woman before her. She opened her mouth, but no words came forth.
"I said, do you understand?" her stepmother raised her hand threateningly, preparing to slap her again. She cowered beneath the shadow of her stepmother's arm and cried out.
"Yes, Stepmother!" her whole body trembled with fear as she looked down, tears spilling down both cheeks and onto her black lace dress. Her shoulders shook with sobs, but her stepmother simply turned and left, pulling her two ornery daughters along by their elbows.
Cinderella collapsed to her knees, her body quaking with sobs as she dug her fingers into the sweet smelling earth. Her tears fell onto the flowers she still clutched in one hand, and she watched as the petals of black-eyed-Susan's and violets withered with each salty droplet that fell.
Cinderella's eyes opened as she snapped out of her reverie, her heart shuddering with the remembrance of the events that occurred after the funeral. It was that evening everything changed. She was placed in the attic, and at the age of seven, she became the household servant, forced to pick up after her despicable stepsisters. A fear grew in her heart the night of her father's death, the night her stepmother had lashed out at her. She had pushed all emotions deep down inside herself, the fright overtaking every thought until she was forced to wear a mask for her stepfamily. She became their slave, her will trained after so many years to be bent on their bidding alone with no consideration for herself.
Her spirit calmed over the years until she remained a gentle and mild woman, with no thoughts but to follow the orders of her stepmother. But somewhere in her heart she felt it--the pride of knowing she was better than Anastasia and Drizella in many ways. So over the years, Cinderella slowly resigned herself to the fact that all the punishment she received was driven by jealousy, for she had much more to offer than her stepsisters, and her stepmother knew it all too well.
Cinderella took a deep breath, compelling herself to drift back into the reserved, gentle manner she retained at home. She leaned over and placed the flowers next to her father's headstone, wondering whether he'd be proud. She imagined him sitting next to her, but found she could not determine his expression. Would he be proud that she did not let the stepfamily see the anxiety they caused her, that she had not let them succeed, or would he be disappointed that she had lived in denial of her feelings for thirteen years?
She sighed, watching as the image of her father faded before her. It was childish to put herself through this torture year after year with the thoughts of her father.
The dream that you wish will come true…
The song played in her head, and she was reminded of hope--the hope she'd kept for all of these years that she would be free of the family she never felt a part of.
"It's decided, then," she spoke aloud to herself, "I will just have to wait patiently for a few more years and then…" her eyes fell on the dirt beneath her feet, the dirt above her father's casket, "And then, Father, you'll finally be proud of me. I'll shake this family from me forever…and you'll be proud."
Cinderella stood, shaking the loose dirt from her knees and marveling at the renewed hope that spread from her heart down to the tips of her fingers and toes.
"Happy birthday, Father." She smiled, feeling for once that the expression on her father's face would have to be one of delight.
The clock called out, signaling it would soon be seven o' clock, and her heart jumped. She would be late for breakfast--and that meant extra chores on top of the ones she would receive from her bitter stepmother. She clutched the shawl about her shoulders, took a deep breath, and bolted from the cemetery. Birds flew in fright from her pounding footsteps against the cobblestones, and she felt rejuvenated with their cheerful voices; she quickened her pace, for once enjoying the cool breeze that beat against her face.
Cinderella found herself in the kitchen before the clock was finished striking seven, and she had the kettle hanging above the fire before the echoes had subsided.
- - -
"Your breakfast, Stepmother." she tapped lightly on the door before entering. Her stepmother awoke with a start, her eyes gleaming in the firelight with annoyance.
"You're late, child." she sat up slowly, taking the tray from Cinderella's hands.
"Yes, I know. What chores will you have me do today?" her heart beat quickly in her chest as her stepmother sneered maliciously.
"Well, since you seem so…energetic, I think you'll do well to sweep and scrub down every hard floor in this house, including the dining hall. We are having guests over and I want our house to look its finest, do you understand?"
"Yes, Stepmother."
"And I want you to cook the dinner tonight as well, so I expect you to bring me a menu when you are done with your chores." she paused to take a sip of her tea. "Run along now, I have no further use of you."
Cinderella bowed her head and left the room quietly.
- - -
She hummed to herself cheerily as she swept the hallway, the broom moving to the rhythm of her song. Drizella and Anastasia were having a shouting match in the library, as usual, during their study time. Her stepmother had left the room for a few moments, and already they were in an argument. Cinderella simply shook her head and continued singing to herself quietly.
"Mother! I don't see why I have to study with Drizella. She's simply a distraction!" Anastasia stormed out of the library, throwing her papers in the air dramatically. Cinderella sighed and set her broom against the wall, bending down to attend to the pile of papers that still fluttered to the floor in every which direction.
"Did you hear what she said, mother?" Drizella stomped from the library, leaving dusty footprints on Anastasia's arithmetic sheets and nearly stepping on Cinderella's fingers. "She's infuriatingly ignorant!"
"Someone's been studying vocabulary…" Cinderella muttered as she yanked a sheet of paper from beneath Drizella's overlarge foot.
"What did you say, rat?" Drizella screamed at her.
"Nothing, nothing. Don't mind me." Cinderella smiled triumphantly as her stepsister gasped. Anastasia snickered and was promptly jabbed in the rib by Drizella's elbow.
"OW!"
"Mother! Cinderella--"
"Girls, please!" a stern voice silenced them both.
The hall fell into silence except for the clack of Lady Tremaine's high-heeled shoes as she approached. Cinderella continued to retrieve papers from the floor, and her stepsisters burst into complaints once more, only to be silence with a shout from their mother.
"I want you both to return to the library and study for the next two hours without interruption."
"But Cinderella--" Drizella began.
"Cinderella is completing her chores as she was instructed to do so. I suggest you both do the same and get back into that room this instant!" the girls nodded silently and turned to leave with a mumbled consent.
Cinderella handed the messy pile of papers back to Anastasia, barely able to suppress the grin that spread on her face. She took the broom and continued sweeping, humming her tune cheerfully.
"What, may I ask, is the reason for this gaiety?" her stepmother's voice jarred suddenly in her ears; she'd forgotten the woman was still standing in the hallway.
"Nothing, La--Stepmother." She held the broom still and looked down. Her face flushed as she stumbled precariously on the name. Cinderella's stepmother showed no signs of noticing and simply took a step forward.
"That broom of yours looks a bit tattered." Her stepmother examined the bristles and the handle carefully. "You'll be wanting to make a new one. I want you to be as efficient as possible today especially. I can't have you missing anything simply because of the sad state of that broom." Cinderella was silent, taken aback at the quiet, soft tone of her stepmother's voice. "Have you the menu for this evening?"
She fished the piece of paper from a pocket in her apron and handed it over to the eager fingers. Her stepmother's eyes scanned the list, and her face showed no expression of disappointment.
"Yes. Very well. Change the main course meat to turkey and that shall do just fine." she shoved the list back into Cinderella's hands.
"We have no turkey."
"Today is market day. I expect you to return with the best turkey on sale." She pulled a coin purse from a small pocket that was nearly hidden in the elegant fabric of her gown. She pulled a wad of currency from it and handed it to Cinderella with a stern expression on her face. "This is more than you'll need. I want you to stop by Harry's and inquire after a chef and waiter to hire for the evening."
"Oh, but Stepmother, I can cook and serve just as well--"
"I want a respectable looking waiter and the best chef he has to offer, you understand?" she widened her eyes threateningly. "I expect to be paid back in full by the end of this week." Her stepmother turned on her heel and shut the door to her room loudly.
Cinderella sighed and finished sweeping the hallway in silence.
- - -
Market day was an extremely busy day, even for such a small town. Shops and vendors of every variety crammed themselves all along Main Street, and they stayed for an entire week. This particular week was renowned for miles around, which meant the crowd was enormous due to the tourists. It was easy to become lost in such a bustle of people even if one knew the street front and back, and Cinderella quickly found herself bumped and shoved in the wrong direction.
She peered above the heads of people around her, but the crowd was packed into the street so tightly, she barely had room to stand on her tiptoes. Unfamiliar faces swirled about her, and she soon became frantic, sweating despite the chill November air. Two firm hands suddenly pressed against her shoulders, and she found herself being guided through the crowd. She cried out in surprise, trying to twist her head around to see who was responsible.
"You're much too short to be trying to fight this crowd, Gwyn." A familiar voice spoke loudly next to her ear above the din of blended vendors' calls and tourists' muddled conversations.
"Abram!" she cried out, finally relieved to hear a voice she knew, and her heart had mostly calmed its frantic pulse as they reached the small area behind the line of vendor carts. Cinderella beamed up at Abram, reveling in the comfort of his familiar face. "Thank you…I never would have made it through that crowd."
"Did I help you reach your destination?" he smiled as she glanced around at the shops lining the road.
"Well, we're on the wrong side of the street, but at least we aren't in that crowd." she smiled into his face, and would have been content to stay there forever, but Abram laughed and turned her towards the crowd again with his hands pressed on her thin shoulders.
They were making steady progress. Abram seemed to know just how to squeeze both of them into the small breaks in between groups of tourists, and they inched forward, barely touching those around them. A blush crept up her cheeks as Abram pulled her away from an oncoming vegetable cart, her back firmly pressed against his torso. She chanced a glance behind her and saw the determined expression on his face, wondering whether he noticed the cool touch of her fingers against his warm hand. His expression did not falter, and she was forced to look away as he urged her forward again.
"Make way!" A man shouted with a booming voice that carried far even over the immense noise of the crowd.
Heads turned toward the voice, and people stopped in their tracks in front of Cinderella and Abram, halting any further movement.
"Make way for the King!"
Gasps were heard all throughout, and an awed hush fell over every head in the street, even the vendors quieted, who temporarily ceased their enthusiastic shouts to draw customers. The crowd surged, pushing and shoving to move to the farthest sides of the street.
Cinderella's heart jumped as she found herself caught up in a flow of people, and she turned to find Abram gone. She looked about frantically, but saw no sign of his figure above the heads short enough for her to peer over. She stuck out her elbows and moved forcefully past an eager group of tourists, gasping for air once she released herself from the tight throng of people. Cinderella looked up and was relieved to find herself on the right side of the street. She walked to the wooden boardwalk that was elevated above the mud for rainy days, and peering above the vendors' tents, her eyes soon fell on the elaborately dressed carriage that was stopped at the end of the street, awaiting a clear passage.
Four pearl-white horses, each groomed to perfection with glimmering coats and braided manes, tapped their hooves anxiously, awaiting a signal from the driver. The coachman and footman had matching uniforms with delicate stitches of gold and blue that accentuated their fine tailored coats. With an expert snap of a whip, the coachman led the carriage along at a slow trot.
The wheels of the carriage were made of the finest ivory and seemed to ride as smoothly as if the curricle itself were gliding above the rough, muddy ground. The rest of the carriage was a pale blue with a gold tassel that trimmed the very top and twirled in delicate designs all over the box. The door was painted gold with an ivory handle and a clear glass window. A heavily jeweled hand waved delicately and lazily from inside the dark carriage. The King had made his entrance and impressed many, and the coachman whipped the horses into a steady gallop back to the palace as soon as they reached the end of Main Street.
The street immediately returned to the chaotic and noisy state as before, and the conversation among the tourists spoke highly of the King and his immense riches, while the people of the town spoke in a different light.
"Always has to make a show, doesn't he?"
"Show off!" A young boy at the edge of the crowd kicked the dust emphatically and stuck his tongue out at the disappearing carriage.
"Why don't he put good use to that money instead of squandering it on that ugly contraption?" The woman who spoke turned and left the crowd, her friends following along and agreeing with further comments of their own.
Cinderella's eyes followed the shrinking figure of the King's carriage and smiled, finding herself agreeing wholeheartedly with the woman. She shook her head and looked around at the bustle of noisy people in the crowd, but still saw no sign of Abram. She sighed and made her way to Harry's, shivering as a breeze nearly blew the shawl from her shoulders.
"Ah, Cinderella! Good to see you." Harry greeted her warmly as she entered the shop. "I trust you are well?"
"Very well, thank you." she smiled faintly, surprised that he remembered her name even though she'd only been in the shop once before.
"You'll be wanting a chef and a waiter for the evening, I presume?"
"Why…yes. That is exactly what I need." She was surprised, realizing that all the rumors of Harry's splendid memory were true, for she had required a chef and waiter the last she had been in the shop.
"Ah yes…" Harry looked down and flipped through a few pages of a logbook. "This is our busiest time of year, but your stepmother will be requiring the best, I'm sure."
"Yes, always." Cinderella muttered.
She watched fascinated as he flipped through the logbook, scanning the pages in a matter of seconds despite the lengthy entries and lists of names written on each page.
"Have you a menu?" he looked up suddenly, holding out his hand as she nodded and placed the paper in his hand. His eyes flitted down the page and he tapped his chin for a few moments. "Aha!" he called out, and she jumped in surprise. "Clarence is an exquisite chef, and he specializes in the most delicately flavored turkey dishes. He will do just nicely. As for the waiter, I do think that Bernard is free for the evening. What time will you be dining?"
"Seven o' clock."
"Clarence will be there at six, and Bernard will arrive at precisely six-thirty. The chef will provide the turkey, but all other ingredients must be provided."
"Thank you, sir!" she smiled warmly, relieved she would not have to fight the crowd to buy a turkey at the general store on the other side of the street. She handed him an ample amount of money before heading out the door in high spirits.
She took a short cut away from Main Street and found herself on the road home. Cinderella hummed to herself cheerily despite the soreness of her feet and the long distance she had to walk home. She nearly forgot about the disappearance of Abram until she heard hoof beats behind her. She quickly moved off the side of the road, turning slowly to see who approached. Cinderella's eyes widened as she took in the sight of Abram riding bareback on the most magnificent black horse she had ever seen. She let out a gasp as Abram slowed the horse expertly with a click of his tongue.
"Where did you go?" she said as she looked up into his pleasant face and could not help wondering at how regal he looked atop the dusty black stallion. "I turned and you were gone."
"I remembered my time limit in the stable of one hour was almost over, and I had to retrieve him before I owed more than double the original price. The stables are extremely full today."
"I see." Cinderella was determined to believe him, but the state of his horse led her to believe otherwise.
The mane and tail were tangled and dust covered the sleek black coat of the horse. The grooms hired at the Main Street Stables would have given this superb horse a full service of grooming and cleaning. She shook the thoughts from her mind and did not allow any suppositions to grow. Surely Abram would not steal a horse? She watched as he absently patted the side of the horse's neck, and she noticed the expertise and familiarity he'd shown in controlling it.
Surely not…
"I will not allow you to walk the rest of the way home, Gwyn. It is much too far for a lady such as yourself." He seemed to be mocking her, but his expression was sincere.
"I thank you for the offer, but I think it would be best if I wasn't seen riding in with you. People would talk, and word travels fast." She couldn't believe the nonsense that was spilling out of her mouth. She had every reason not to ride with him, yet reason failed her when she looked into his pleading expression.
"I understand." he paused and seemed to gather his thoughts, but he sighed and looked away. "And you are busy all evening?"
"My stepmother invited guests for the evening, though she won't allow me to cook or serve. I will most likely be doing chores the rest of the day."
"Then I shall see you later." he smiled playfully and directed his horse to turn back towards the road.
"Oh, no, you mustn't! If Stepmother should see--"
"She won't." He grinned as she stuttered, searching for another excuse. "I'm off!" he clicked his tongue and the horse bolted into a steady gallop down the road.
She smiled faintly as she watched him disappear behind a bend in the road, anticipation growing with every footstep that took her closer to home.
- - -
And just to make up for being gone so long, I will end here with saying that this has to be the longest chapter yet.
More still to come!
Don't neglect me...leave reviews, please!