Happy Valentine's Day!
Stayed up till 6 in the morning writing this…so I hope it makes some sort of sense in my half-asleep stupor.
I appreciate some of the questions anonymous reviewers have been asking, but since you are anonymous, I cannot answer you individually. Therefore, I have tried to incorporate these answers into the story if at all possible. Keep in mind also that I do, in fact, have a plan for this story, even though it may not seem like it at times.
Much love!
Dream Come True
Chapter 21
It made five months and twenty-five days since her last letter from Alaric. Cinderella was growing increasingly panicked. Her reflection in the glass told her she also needed her newest dress altered again. It seemed to tighten with each breath. Bridgett was at her wit's end to keep up with Cinderella's increased size due to pregnancy, and as she neared the fateful due date, she was almost aware of growing larger by the minute. She could no longer see her swollen ankles and pink toes around her pronounced stomach, and she didn't like to peer at herself in any reflective surface. Her arms and legs still appeared angular at the joints, but her sharp face had filled out till it was almost moon-shaped. Her fingers swelled slightly, so that she was forced to wear her elaborate wedding band on a chain around her neck. Her hair seemed thicker, if possible, but the strands were glossier and smoother. It was, perhaps, the only change she enjoyed.
She hobbled over to the window from her bedchamber and sighed heavily. A beautiful Spring day, and she had to stay cooped up inside. Cinderella had been forced to retire to the castle as her obvious weight gain meant the news of her pregnancy would be wide-spread in the town. Despite the fact that everyone had been suspecting it for some time, the king and Bridgett agreed it would be safer to keep her indoors once the fact became too apparent. It was difficult being stuck in the castle, despite its massive size and endless places to explore, but she still missed the outdoors. She was forbidden to even take small walks to the barn to visit her ailing horse. Bruno was allowed to follow her about in the castle as long as he behaved himself, and she delighted in his loyal and steadfast company.
Another change she despised was the temporary relinquishing of her bookkeeping and her duties to the king. Abby managed the store in town while Weldon took his place as the king's assistant. His smugness at all times annoyed her to no end. The king seemed not to take notice of it, however, and was forever occupied with some new line of business. The Duke had returned after a long stay in a neighboring kingdom. She did not catch the name, for she heard all of this through side conversation and listening at keyholes, but assumed it had been about some mix-up in paperwork, and a whole year of financial accounts had gone missing. The Duke stayed in his chambers for a few days to recover from the journey that had spanned more than half a year.
It was a sad existence, having to eavesdrop to keep up with all that went on. She felt like a prisoner and a visitor in the castle when it should have felt like home. She was forcibly kept indoors and all social or business matters were instantly cut off whenever she entered a room. The same questions always plagued her, and the endless petting and fussing often brought her close to screaming. However, she managed to keep her composure and kept herself confined to the library and her bedroom, with Bruno snoring fitfully on top of her feet.
A quiet knock at the door made her heart jump in anticipation, but Bruno continued to dream, his deep sleep unperturbed by her stirring. "Come in!" She welcomed any change to her monotonous days.
"Good morning, Cinderella!" Abby's friendly face brought a little genuine sunshine into the dim library.
"I'm so glad you're here, Abby." Cinderella placed a hand on Abby's arm, not quite as eager to hug the small girl as she used to be. Movements always felt so sluggish.
The young girl pushed one of the cushioned chairs closer and leaned in, her voice softening as she began to discuss the most recent matters of business at the bookkeeping store in town. Cinderella relished these brief interludes to stimulate her otherwise listless intellect of late. Reading became tiresome, and the possibility of answering and deciphering puzzling situations at her store brought a breath of fresh air into her body. The simple act of making decisions and seeing them pan out gave her a renewed energy.
"How is everything?"
"The money is looking very good this month for the charity drive. We have had so many donations that it is easy to lose track of the pledges, since we've been almost overrun by them lately."
"How is the suggestion box? Have you had good responses?"
"Oh, it is a marvelous invention! I can't believe I didn't think of it before. Where did you get the idea?"
"It comes from idleness." She patted her belly with a wry smile.
Abby giggled, her tinkling laughter filling the dusty corners of the room. "You wouldn't believe some of the silly things we've gotten. One person went as far as suggesting a new color scheme for the posters and signs to make them more 'aesthetic,' which was misspelled atrociously, of course."
Cinderella delighted in the laughter that she always shared with Abby. It would grow stale without her loyal friend.
In the middle of another discussion, however, they were interrupted by Weldon's unwelcome entrance into the library. He didn't knock before he entered, and a small smile tugged at his lips with obvious pleasure at interrupting an "illegal" business discussion.
"Good morning." He ambled absently to one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves and touched his finger to some of the bindings, humming tunelessly as he browsed.
Abby exchanged an exasperated look with Cinderella and turned her attention to Weldon's stiff back.
"Is there something particular you are looking for?" Cinderella stayed seated and was curious to see what expressions were playing out on his hidden face. "I can probably tell you the layout of this entire library. Goodness knows I've been in here enough…"
Weldon turned, hands clasped behind his back in a statuesque manner. His beady eyes studied Abby's seated figure for a moment before answering, eyes quickly darting to Cinderella's blank, expressionless face. "No, thank you. I appreciate your offer, Your Highness, but I am looking for a very specific book. His Majesty requires it." He finished with a smug air, standing up straighter, if possible despite his already upright and poised position.
"I assure you that not a single book has escaped my eye." Her jaw set determinately as she stared back into his cold blue gaze.
"His Majesty requires an almanac from the first ten to fifteen years of his father's reign as well as a financial record dating as far back as his grandfather's."
"Abby, would you be so kind as to direct Mr. Weldon to the agricultural shelf over by that window? I believe you know also where the section begins after the encyclopedias, where he may also find the financial information under 'F.'" Her eyes gleamed triumphantly at Abby as Weldon frowned, defeated.
"Yes, ma'am." Abby stood, meeting his penetrating stare with a winning smile. "Right this way, Sir." His tall, stiff figure loomed behind her small and faintly graceful figure as she led him to a shelf at the far end of the room, pointing out both books and even pulling them slightly from their position to ensure he chose the correct one.
He thanked her flatly and stepped aside to allow her passage. His gaze followed her for only a moment before he snatched the volumes and exited without another word.
Abby let out a peal of laughter, but it lacked the carefree nature it had before. "You know, I used to convince myself I wasn't scared of him, but he still makes me nervous no matter how hard I try to act brave. It's as if he can see right through me."
"I've never been fond of that man. There is something not quite right…something lacking, as if he was never born with natural human emotions."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" Abby seemed eager to change the subject, and Cinderella couldn't blame her. "Oswin and Anastasia are due for a visit this week as soon as little Alexander's cold is cleared up."
Cinderella could feel her spirits rising just at the thought of seeing her little nephew.
In the next few days, Cinderella occupied herself by stealing away to Alaric's childhood bedroom, where she could sit peacefully without even the interruption of Weldon.
It was, however, during one of her sporadic visits to this room that she met the king on the way up the last flight of stairs to the corridor of Alaric's old rooms. She quickly attempted to fashion a reason for being in the unused wing of the castle, but the king's grave face and obvious preoccupation meant he had no concern for why she was there.
"Your Majesty?"
"Cinderella, my dear. Should you be moving about?"
"Oh, please don't tell Bridgett! She wouldn't let me get up for weeks if she knew." She hesitated, but continued. "Might I ask—why are you on this side of the castle?" It was quite at the opposite end of the enormous stone structure from his office.
"I was needing some time to think, as I'm sure you understand." He gave her a little wry smile. His hands shuffled with something behind his back, and she could see the edges of folded slips of paper if she surreptitiously peered around his wide stomach. They were unmistakably letters.
"Forgive my imprudence—but whose letters are those?"
"They are just business matters. Nothing to concern yourself with, my dear." His eyes darted away from her face, his ruddy cheeks paling slightly.
"Are they…from Alaric?" She peered into his downcast face, searching for some sign that it was true.
"I shouldn't. They may distress you." He fixed his weary eyes onto her face.
"It will distress me more if I do not read them!" She held a hand out, her face taut with concern.
After only a moment's hesitation, the king placed the small pile of letters into her fingers. The king touched her cheek gently, a sad smile pulling at his lips. "My dear daughter-in-law."
She shared the smile but only for an instant before walking up the stairs, straining with all her will not to run and clutching the papers close to her heart. She slid down her closed door and onto the floor with a heavy sigh, fighting down the sudden rise of bile to her throat at the tense restraint. Cinderella spread the three letters before her in the sunlight, noting the dates on each envelope and starting with the earliest.
Father,
Hope all is well. I am sorry for the delay in writing. We have had no luck so far. I fear Shiloh is not well. May have to abandon search—should have done so long ago, and you are right to berate me. I am a fool to have left! We are nearing the end of our rations and have cleaned out both our pockets, and don't dare try and send money, for it won't reach us before we leave for our next destination (wherever that may be), and you know I would not accept the money if you had sent it! What I have to say is difficult. In the event that I do not return, please pass on the instructions and words I have expressed in previous letters. Tell her I do not deserve her forgiveness, but I ask it just the same.
Nothing more—we are on the move once again.
Your son,
Alaric
She quickly moved to the next letter, thankful that the hard wax seals had been previously broken. Her hands shook too greatly to have managed any precise movements.
Father,
All is not well with Shiloh. No leads in three days now. I fear this journey is over—yet I long to return to my wife and my home! I only wish I could turn back time.
On the move again. All my love to my dear, dear wife and my child—God willing.
Your son,
Alaric
The final letter.
Abandoning search. Shiloh extremely ill. Will be home as swiftly as possible.
Alaric
Cinderella pressed her hands against the letters before her against the floor. The last had been dated one week prior. Where was he, and how long would it take him to return?
...
Eight months and twenty-eight days. Anastasia was unable to bring Alexander to see Cinderella once more. It had been almost two months since she had been promised a visit, but she would just have to be patient for a little while longer. Abby was keeping Cinderella company in the library, where she had finally stretched into a comfortable position after three hours of inactivity.
"Quick, feel here—" She took Abby's hand and placed it against her round stomach, her face flushed with excitement.
"I can feel it kicking!" Abby's grin spread. "Do you think it is a boy or a girl? My mother always said she knew I was a girl when she was pregnant."
Cinderella waited, seeming to search her mind and her feelings, but all she knew for certain was that she was being kicked heartily by this child, and that it had been on and off for the past three weeks. It was an eerie sensation, but one that still had her heart racing.
Before she could reply to Abby's question, she suddenly doubled over in a sudden fit of pain.
"I'll call Bridgett!" Abby rose from her seat, and Cinderella would have stopped her and brushed it off as just another hearty kick from the child, but another stab of pain bit at her side and spread to her whole abdomen.
In an instant, as another shooting pain filled her body, she knew what was happening. "NO!" She shouted, but it was not to dissuade Abby who had already pulled the servant's chord. It was to stop the inevitable. "I'm not ready. I'm not ready!"
Abby ran to her side and clutched one of her hands. "Not ready for what?"
"This baby! I can't have this baby without Alaric!"
But it could not be stopped. A servant entered and Bridgett and the doctor were sent for. Abby hovered around uselessly until Bridgett arrived and intervened, immediately calling for all the female staff to assist in moving Cinderella to a bedchamber next door to the library. Hot water was called for, and endless sets of sheets seemed to appear on the dresser opposite the bed. It was an unfamiliar room, and Cinderella found herself surrounded by unfamiliar people.
"Make it stop! Oh, make it stop!" She cried out and tried to push away the hands that pulled at the straps on her gown, but another spasm of pain weakened her frenzy.
Bridgett's soothing voice filled her ears and seemed to overtake every other sound that overflowed the room around them. "There, there, my child. It will all be over in a short time. Don't you worry about your Alaric—he will come in due time. Let nature take its course."
Cinderella gripped her maid's arm, and stared intently into the flushed face. "Bridgett, you have to tell me what Alaric wrote to you. I need to know."
"Oh, my dear," she clasped Cinderella's hand and was momentarily distracted from giving instructions to the maids, "that was months ago. I hardly remember—"
"Please! Please tell me." She pressed the woman's hand and didn't need to force the pitiful, pleading smile that pulled at her taut mouth.
"He—he said that in the event he…" Bridgett took a quick breath and then let the words fall from her mouth, "In the event that he didn't make it back, I was to tell you how much he loves you and…and that he is sorry." Her mouth clamped shut, her face paling.
Cinderella could sense there was more to tell, but as another blinding twinge of pain overtook her body, she was forced to let it pass.
Later, while the pains of her contractions still plagued her, Cinderella lay in a dazed state on the bed, just waiting for the doctor to decide when it was best to begin. They seemed to think she had fallen temporarily asleep, or was so distracted she wouldn't hear, but their hushed words came to her in between the thoughts that consumed her.
"How is she, doctor?" Bridgett's voice trembled slightly.
In the event that Alaric does not return…
"She will have a hard childbirth. The pains came early—a little too early. I am concerned about the effects of the…incident that happened before His Highness left. The poison may have affected the child, or perhaps prevent her from having children in the future. We can only wait and hope for the best."
In the event that he dies…
Her thoughts cleared as the ache overtook her being. There was nothing she could do. The tears fell freely down her cheeks as she slowly resigned herself to having this baby without the comfort of her husband and the reassurance that he would be there to help her raise it.
...
Hours later, and after what seemed like an eternity, all of the pain washed away in the single instant that she saw the faces of her children. A boy and a girl—twins. The doctor had said it was a miracle the boy lived, since he was so small and fragile. He said it was a miracle at all that everything had gone as well. He continued, but she could hardly hear him over the throbbing of her heart. She looked back and forth between the faces of each child in either arm, marveling at how quickly the past day of misery disappeared at the sight of their little mottled faces, squinting in the sudden light of the real world.
"They both look in good health—five fingers on each hand, five toes on each foot, and everything where it should be."
Her small moment of blissful reverie was broken by the opening of the bedroom door. Bridgett had made it perfectly clear that no visitors were allowed, but Abby's pale and persistent face peered around the door.
"Oh, alright! You may come in, but don't make a fuss."
Abby stepped silently into the room and instantly joined Cinderella's side, gazing wonderingly at the two wriggling bundles in her arms.
"Two! How perfectly beautiful they are! Oh, may I hold one?" Abby caressed the little girl's soft cheeks.
"Abby!" Bridgett gave her a warning glance.
"No, it's fine." Cinderella's voice was harsh and cracked after hours of shouting. How insignificant all the pain seemed now. She lifted the little girl into Abby's arms and stared just as bewildered into her son's placid face.
Would he look like his father when he was all grown up? Her heart shuddered, a familiar ache beginning to take hold of her chest. She forced it down and focused on the wonderful glow that filled Abby's cheeks as she rocked the baby girl in her arms.
"What will you name them?"
"I don't know." Cinderella hadn't thought about it. "I was always fond of the name Nessa. And Halsten has a nice ring to it—" She halted suddenly. "But I will wait."
Neither Abby nor Bridgett spoke, recognizing silently that Cinderella would wait for her husband's return, no matter how long that took.
The doctor broke the silence as he snapped his black bag shut, the listening device he had used to examine the children's hearts still hanging around his neck. He bowed gracefully and left with further instructions to Bridgett and a fond farewell to Cinderella, assuring her of future visits.
"And now it is time for you to rest, my dear." Bridgett moved to take the little boy from her arms, but before Cinderella could protest, she was already drifting off into a heavy sleep.
A soft coo reached her ears, and she found herself awake instantly, not quite sure what would have awoken her from such a deep, dreamless sleep. In an instant, she swore her eyes were playing a cruel trick on her, for there in a soft chair by her bed sat Alaric, one arm cradling the little girl and his lap full of the squirming little boy. Cinderella made a soft noise, almost in protest, which used to awaken her from dreams such as this—dreams that felt so tangible it was frightening.
Alaric looked up suddenly, his eyes glittering with tears. "My dear—my darling!"
He looked down at the children and then back at her with joy mixed with bewilderment. His face seemed a little more haggard than she remembered, and his clothes were oddly plain and worn.
"Oh, if only this were real!" She pushed herself into an upright position, wincing as she maneuvered around her stiff, sore body.
"But, Cinderella…" He trailed off, picking up his son in one arm and standing quickly to move towards her. "You aren't dreaming."
She felt her daughter's soft, warm body as he set it gently into her arms. He leaned down, their son in one arm, and kissed her heartily on the mouth.
"Alaric!" She leaned forward and welcomed the other kisses he placed on her lips and cheeks, her heart fit to burst with joy. "Oh, I am so happy!"
He moved to sit beside her on the bed, taking the son in his arms but still keeping his eyes on her face. The feelings passing between them could not have been put into words adequately. He pressed his lips to her forehead once more and then remembered the squiggling child in his arms.
"Oh, my dear, but two children at once! What will we do?" His eyes filled with tears as he stared down at the faces of their children. "What will we name them?"
"Nessa." She looked at her daughter.
"Nessa Gwyn." He prompted.
She nodded, feeling her face break into an almost painful ear-to-ear smile. "Perfect. And the boy? I always liked Halsten."
He thought for a moment. "Since we're going with a theme," he laughed shortly, "how about Abram Halsten?"
She agreed instantly. "Nessa Gwyn and Abram Halsten. Gwyn and Abram." She stared again at her husband, taking his hand in hers just to ensure he won't disappear without warning. "Will we ever tell them the meaning of those two names?"
He laughed heartily, and she saw the color returning to his thin face. "Where would we begin?"
I hope you enjoyed it, my lovelies.
You are loved.