A/N: Right, chapter 4 is up and we develop the Cinderella part. I'm back from hiatus, if you haven't noticed, with all summer school work done, besides the LA stuff (cuz I'm L-A-Z-Y and a P-R-O-C-R-A…nvm, I'll finish it later) :) but I wrote chapter 4 before I left…yeah, I'm just cruel like that.
Cookies for the person who fulfills the previous requests, the difference is, it's for this chapter. NO I DON'T FRICKING OWN A TALE OF TWO CITIES. THAT BOOK WAS MY LITERATURE HELL FOR ALMOST HALF A YEAR! I'D BE CRAZY TO WANT TO OWN THIS. Stupid as Hell if you don't know that already. No offense.
Chapter 4
Birthday Ball Preparations Part 1
Knock knock knock!
The knocks came more insistently now, as if someone had something urgent to say.
"Where is that good-for-nothing maid, Pross?" Lucie's step-mother muttered. "She should be the one getting the door."
Knock knock knock!
"Lucie! Get the door!" her step-mother barked at Lucie, annoyed by the useless staff.
"Yes, step-mama," Lucie demurred. She gently lifted her hand from Carton's grasp and left the room to get the door. Carton stared after her glowing form like a wounded puppy.
Lucie slightly intrigued by the urgent rapping on the door, quirked an eyebrow. "Who could be knocking on the door?" she queried. She opened the door and immediately gasped and curtsied. "Oh my, a king's messenger? What message would he have for our household?"
The king's messenger, Jerry Cruncher, inclined his spiky, cap-covered head and said, "Madam, I will not lie, as I am just an honest tradesman. The prince is to have an eighteenth birthday ball in three weeks' time. Being at just the right age to marry, his father is inviting every eligible maiden to the ball. These are the invitations." He held out four creamy envelopes, all stamped with the royal insignia. Lucie took them from Cruncher with reverence.
"Thank you. I will notify my step-mama in due time," she said, curtseying once more to his bow and closing the door. Then, she quickly walked back to where her step-mother and Carton were waiting. "Step-mama, the king's messenger was knocking on the door. He told me that the prince was holding a birthday ball and that the king wanted to pick a bride for him as well. Two birds with one stone, no?" she said, brightly.
"I am afraid, my darling," her step-mother drawled. "That you will no longer be eligible to attend the prince's ball because you are betrothed to this fine young man here." She looked at Carton, as did Lucie. Lucie's expression, however, was one of pleading. Her already large blue eyes seemed to grow larger and more beautiful as she silently pleaded Carton to let her go, even if she was no longer eligible.
Carton, the poor sucker, couldn't resist. "Oh, let her go, Lady Morrigan," he said, relenting. "It's not every day you get invited to attend a prince's birthday ball, after all."
Lucie looked delighted. "Thank you, thank you, Carton!" she trilled. She would have hugged him, but etiquette deemed otherwise. Instead she clasped his hand in between her two slender ones. "Thank you!" and with that, Carton was the happiest man on Earth.
Her step-mother, as not to make a fool of herself, said, "Alright. You can go—but on one condition: make your step-sisters' gowns as well as yours." Upon hearing this, Lucie was only slightly deterred.
"Fine, then I will need to get started!" Lucie declared with a determined gleam in her eye.
Before Lucie could run off, Carton hurriedly interjected, "Ah, allow me to provide you with the materials needed to make the dresses. I'm sure my father won't mind me helping my betrothed with her projects."
Lucie's smile, if possible, grew wider. "Oh really? Thank you very much, Carton!"
"Please, call me Sydney."
Lucie smiled even more. "Very well, Sydney. Now, please excuse me. I must begin designing the dresses!"
The three weeks passed by in a hurry. Sydney Carton became a regular sight at the Manettes' villa, carrying bolts of fabrics, spools of threads and laces and strings of pearls and other materials needed to make the monstrous confections that Lucie had drawn up for her step-sisters. She knew what her step-sisters liked…anything that was silk, velvet, damask for the bodice and skirt, both of which were elaborately decorated with frills, bows and sequins, a garish green for Therese and a putrescent pink for Aggrawater, which were their favorite colors, even Lucie would never be so base as to slander what they liked. She had also drawn up a much simpler dress for herself—blue to compliment her eyes—except the plans had gone missing, though she didn't yet know it. She was too busy, flitting around, measuring, modeling, and fitting her sisters. They constantly wanted alterations to be made to their dresses. More frills! More bows! More pearls! Poor Lucie had no time to even think about her own dress, let alone hunt up the plans in order to make it. And Carton watched all of it from afar, near as he was; he still worshipped his angel, as he called Lucie, in secret.
Carton also knew where the missing plans were. He had them and, seeing as Lucie would be run ragged from dawn to dusk making her own step-sisters' gowns, had also taken the liberty to hire a seamstress to make Lucie's ball gown. He wanted her to be the most beautiful girl in the ball room at the prince's party.
One day before the ball, and everything was done—except for Lucie's own gown. While her step-sisters were busy prancing and flaunting their new dresses, fresh off the sewing machine, Lucie was frantically searching everywhere for the plans for her special dress. She searched everywhere—attics, basements, stables—not one room was left unsearched through. By nighttime, Lucie was despondent. She couldn't find the plans, nor the time to make the dress, anywhere! Now she'll never get to go to the prince's party! Not while she looked like this!
"Step-mama?" she timidly asked when she reached her step-mother's bedroom.
"What is it?" her step-mother half-growled sitting in front of her vanity mirror.
"Uhm…I'm afraid I don't have the proper attire to go to the prince's ball…"Lucie trailed off, tears fresh in her eyes.
Her step-mother narrowed her eyes. "Well, well, well…I'm afraid that just won't do," she murmured, an evil grin spreading across her face as she continued to stare at her reflection. "I guess you won't be able to go to the ball after all. Not unless you can pull together a dress in—" she looked at the clock that sat next to the mirror, which read 6 "—the next 24 hours and still be ready to go."
Lucie trembled. "No," she said lowly. "I'm afraid I can't do that with the materials I have left." She left her step-mother sitting at the vanity and closed the door gently. When she was out of earshot from the door, Lucie ran to her room and flung herself onto the bed, sobs ripping through her chest. She cried herself to sleep that night.
The next morning, Pross opened the door to the villa to see the face of Carton standing unexpectedly on the step.
"It's a little early, isn't it?" Pross questioned, referring to Lucie.
"Possibly," countered Carton. "However, there is something that I must tell Lucie immediately.
"Aye, well, I'll go wake 'er up, then," said a more than a little intrigued Pross. "I know you can show yourself to the parlor?"
Carton nodded, wondering why Pross felt the need to go wake Lucie up personally. "I'll wait for as long as it takes."
Carton made his way slowly to the parlor, lost in his thoughts as Pross rushed up to wake the weeping, sleeping blonde, hoping that everything would be alright, hoping that Carton was the slim chance that Lucie would need in order to go to the ball.
It was nearly noon when Lucie finally came down, Pross in tow. Carton had eaten through the plate of cookies and sandwiches that the cook had given to him in sympathy as well as a pot of tea. He was steadily sipping his fourth cup of tea when Lucie entered the room. She, his angel, looked like she had gone to Hell and back.
"Carton, how nice to see you at this early hour," Lucie said, attempting to generate some of her usual warmth into her eyes and failing. Inwardly, Carton was devastated. Lucie had gone back to acting as if they were mere acquaintances. However, the thought dissipated as soon as he saw the expression on Lucie's face.
Carton immediately put down his cup of tea and took Lucie's hand when she held it out for him to kiss. "What's wrong?" he asked, standing up and gently squeezing the offered hand instead of kissing it.
"I am…unable to attend tonight's ball because of an inadequate wardrobe," Lucie whispered, devastated.
Carton raised an eyebrow. Pross patted Lucie's back sympathetically.
"Actually…"he began.
BANG! There was a loud crash and a shriek. "LUCIEEEEEEEE!" yelled one of the step-sisters. "MY DRESS RIPPED! FIX IT!"
Lucie's eyes flickered briefly. "'Actually' what, Carton? Quickly, before my step-sisters set the hounds after me for not hurrying up to fix up their gowns." She smiled slightly at the little joke she had made.
Carton squeezed her hand again. "Meet me in the courtyard of your villa at 6:30 tonight. I have a surprise for you—you will go to the ball tonight."
Lucie's eyes truly lit up upon hearing this and Pross smiled. Carton had been that small chance.
"Now hurry…fix your sister's dress so that they may leave sooner!" Carton said. "I'll be waiting." He smiled kindly at her and spun her around, giving her a gentle push in the direction of the noise.
Lucie left, looking back once in gratitude, and mouthed "Thank you."
In that one moment, two things happened, with Pross there to witness both. Lucie turned and her entire being seemed to float and glow and she seemed lighter all of a sudden, as if a large tragedy had been lifted. She left happy, in a state of pure bliss, imagining the beautiful evening as she danced down the hallway. Carton, at that exact same moment, also seemed to come alive. But Pross was scared of this glow. This glow was the glow of a martyr. Someone who was utterly devoted to the thing he loves, to the point of obsession, to the point of willing to do whatever it took to satisfy the need of what he loves. Carton was frightening.