Prettyinpinkgal: Aaaand we're back! Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, etc. Thanks also to the new audience from tumblr! Welcome!
I see now that my ambitions of binge-posting are probably not going to happen. It was a wonderful Christmas and New Year (and I hope you all had similarly wonderful holidays!) but obviously it was busy. I hoped to get at least another chapter done before January 10 (when student teaching begins) but that probably won't happen. If it doesn't, please know I will resume updates in May, if not sooner.
This chapter was a pain in my butt. That writing juju I had last month just vanished. Very inconvenient. I hope this chapter is entertaining nonetheless.
Real quick, I just want to make a mention of something. I was rereading some of Destiny and I came across an author's note from years ago I wrote regarding how I was giving up writing and I was clearly terrible and yada yada. I know now that I have depression and anxiety, and that author's note was from a depressive episode. I know that the holidays are a rough time of year for many people. Please know, if you are struggling with anxiety, depression, or other mental illnesses, there is hope for you and what you think is just "who you are" and what you're stuck with can actually be a part of your illness and can therefore be managed. Please seek out help, and feel free to message me too if you just need to talk to someone. You are treasured and loved, and you are on this earth for a reason. May God bless you and heal you.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, except those that do.
DESTINY
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: IN WHICH CINDERELLA BECOMES POLLY
"Oh, Sophie, you look lovely!" Martha gasped.
Sophie winced as Lettie pushed in one last pin. "I feel like a pincushion."
"Well, you're a very attractive pincushion," Lettie retorted. "Behold!"
Sophie was spun around, and she surveyed her reflection in the newly-polished mirror with a bit of shock. She trusted her sisters; they certainly knew fashion better than she did, even though she'd been successful enough with hats. But she didn't think they'd give her this result. Her red-gold hair fell draped over one shoulder, little dark fasteners pinning it so against her scalp. Her gown was thicker than she'd worn even when she went to May Day events prior to her father passing, the petticoats just barely touching the floor. Her dress was a forest green hue, with a neckline that plunged just enough to emphasize her curves without making her feel uncomfortable. Her sisters had somehow snatched mascara for her from Lettie's collection at Mrs. Fairfax's home, and they found a lip stain that complimented her hair without competing in brightness.
Sophie felt beautiful.
"That's a good silence, right?" Martha asked as she and Lettie stood on either sides of their sister, looking at the reflection as well.
"That's a very good silence," Lettie replied. "I'm still iffy about Wizard Howl's intentions, but I'd rather get rheumatism and arthritis again than make my sister a disgrace at the King's ball."
Sophie couldn't say anything. She squeezed their hands in gratitude.
In a time where she'd been so stressed and afraid and confused, excepting the little moments she'd had with Howl, she was glad to have her sisters.
"Mother would cry if she could see you like this," Martha said quietly, and their hands all squeezed in unison. Fanny would, too, sobbing, "My dear girl, you look so beautiful!" If she'd known Sophie would be attending the King's ball with a Royal Wizard, she would have happily severed all connections between her and Mr. Collins.
A bang on the door startled them. "We're going to be late!" Howl bellowed.
For someone so suave, it was hardly his most charming moment, but the three sisters only grinned at each other, snickering at each other like schoolgirls.
"I'll be right there!" Sophie called. To her sisters, she hissed, "Stop," though she was smiling incessantly. "This is work."
"Sure, you're there as the remaining Royal Wizard's escort to present a strong front," Lettie snarked, wrapping an arm around Sophie, "but a ball can mean work and play."
"Too bad you can't dance with the prince," Martha added wryly. "I'm pretty sure he'd topple over, though, if he'd reappear in court as he is."
"Shush!" Sophie said, opening the door.
"Ooh! Let us present you!" Martha cried suddenly, rushing ahead with Lettie just behind her.
Sophie rolled her eyes. "You're both having far too much fun with this."
"This is the nicest moment we've had in ages," Lettie replied, "and we mean to enjoy it!" Then her pretty head disappeared down the stairs. Sophie rushed to follow, but the heels and skirt didn't allow her to do so. She refused to break anything until the ball was over.
"Introducing," Martha said downstairs, "the lovely-"
"-powerful-" Lettie added.
"-intelligent-"
"-and magnificent: Miss Sophie Hatter!"
She was going to hit them.
Her face was dark red as she stepped down the final step, surrounded by amiable cheers and polite clapping, as well as her sisters' laughter. But she couldn't begrudge them a little bit of happiness.
Michael grinned at her. "You look great, Sophie."
Martha wrapped her arms around his, a little possessively. "Doesn't she?"
Mrs. Fairfax was saying something, and Calcifer was probably making a remark she didn't need to hear, and the two half-finished men looked at her with only vague interest, but Sophie's attention was caught on Howl. He was dressed in a dark suit, more formal and less gaudy than his usual. His hair was combed back. Somehow, he'd managed to do that without bathroom access. She knew he didn't need to spend all that time hogging the room! But regardless, she couldn't find it in herself to summon even a hint of a scoff. He looked handsome, though she'd never tell him that. She didn't need to increase his already swelled head.
But clearly, he thought she looked nice, too, since he wasn't saying or doing anything but staring at her.
Then his Adam's apple bobbed and he summoned a cheerful smile. "We'd best go. We're twenty minutes late as it is."
Sophie's color faded. "So late? I had no idea-"
He laughed at her. "You always need to show late to a ball! But we can't be too late, or else it wouldn't look well on Ingary if their Royal Wizard is slinking in as if he hasn't a care in the world."
They quickly said goodbye, and then they left through the Kingsbury entrance, where a carriage awaited them. Sophie rose a brow at him, and he said, "Courtesy of His Highness." He didn't seem to be too unhappy about being a Royal Wizard at the moment, she noted with a small smirk.
The problem was, as soon as the driver closed their door and the horses began trotting off, Sophie realized abruptly that she and Howl were in a small enclosed space together, and their relationship-if that's what she could call it-was so new that she hadn't the faintest idea how to act. She already felt herself getting defensive and prickly, keeping her guard up as her face flushed. She squashed down the defenses and tried to remember that this was to be work and play, as her sisters suggested. There was no sense in being a poor companion just because she was terrified of being alone with Howl more than meeting the King again or greeting foreign leaders.
But soon, Howl was chattering away about a new spell he'd had her and Michael try, and how there were several variants of it, and some spells called for a pinch of cinnamon as well as ivory to lengthen the effect but it also could cause numerous complications including turning into a veritable giraffe to anyone who breathed in the concoction and was altogether more trouble than it was worth.
Sophie was at first grateful for this safe territory. Then she got the subtle impression that he was perhaps trying to slither out of any awkwardness as well, which was both amusing and strange to think, since he was clearly more experienced in all this than she was. Then she was interested in the topic. Finally, she was simply confused.
But they soon arrived at the palace, full of glowing lights and servants and women dressed in gorgeous dresses and hairstyles and men looking their most dashing. Nerves were creeping up on her, but then she remembered that this was hands-down the easiest thing she'd done in a while. She probably wouldn't have to talk to many of the nobles; Howl would talk enough for both of them, no doubt.
As Howl stepped out of the carriage and helped her down, she took a deep breath and decided she'd be all right.
"Nervous?" he asked lightly as he suddenly tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they began walking up the stairs. She kept her eyes solidly on the open doors of the palace ahead.
"No," she said determinedly.
He laughed at her, but she didn't resent it as much as she would have a few weeks ago. They got in line, where Howl informed her that they'd need to be announced. Each party approached a servant by the ballroom doors and told their name and rank, and the servant bellowed this information to the full ballroom. Sophie couldn't see much beyond the groups in front of her, but she heard the constant murmur of conversations and laughing in the ballroom. It sounded busy.
The mouse in her was coming out.
"It'll be over soon enough," Howl said.
She made a noncommittal sound, perhaps not even audible amidst the conversations.
He paused, then sighed. "My dear Sophie," he said, "you needn't worry." He flashed a dashing grin, full of white teeth. "I refuse to be outshone by you."
She snorted a laugh despite herself, which she hastened to stifle. She was too keenly aware of the groups who were glancing over at them, but she appreciated Howl's effort.
He kept making little quips about some of the people he'd met while frequenting events like this, about how an archduke once arrived with his wife and then drunkenly got her mixed up with someone else and exclaimed, "By God, how'd you lose all your weight so quickly?" The wife had approached Howl after finding out he was a wizard, no doubt not wanting to air her business with an official Royal Wizard at the time, and asked about turning her husband into something repulsive. She would have paid handsomely, but she was also offering herself, and Howl was many things, but an encourager of adultery he was not. She ended up finding another wizard and soon her husband found himself under an honesty spell which, coupled with drunkenness, led to the ruin of several of his connections among the nobles. He hadn't been invited to the palace since.
The stories Howl told distracted her, and soon, when they reached the top of the steps and he told the servant their names, she wasn't worried about being observed by these people sillier than those who frequent Market Chipping's pubs. As the servant bellowed, "The Royal Wizard Pendragon and his apprentice, Miss Sophie Jenkins!" she was only mildly uncomfortable by the attention. Far more interesting was the way that Howl had disguised her name by giving her his own. His true one. Her stomach flipped, but not entirely uncomfortably.
It almost distracted from the fact that he used "apprentice" as her title rather than "companion," as most other single gentlemen had done with the women accompanying them.
The ball was full of lights and spells and colors and drinks. Several came up to Howl, already a little tipsy, and true to form, Howl introduced her in a friendly manner before sweeping them in conversation that didn't require heavy discussion on Sophie's part. But quite a few people were kind rather than supercilious, so Sophie gradually became more comfortable.
A flamboyantly dressed man approached them. "Wizard Pendragon, Miss Jenkins, His Highness requests your time."
They excused themselves from their current company, following the man over toward the front of the ballroom, where the thrones sat. The King and his wife were there, but not in their thrones. Instead, they were near the steps, conversing with several people. The King smiled benevolently as Howl and Sophie approached.
"May I introduce our Royal Wizard Pendragon," he said to his group, "one of our most powerful individuals."
Howl bowed and said a nice little speech, which the others seemed to compete with using their own elegant monologues. They were not so long-winded as some of the servant boys from Kingsbury who came to call on Howl for a spell, but Sophie was still impressed and grew a bit more daunted. There was an old king and princess of High Norland, but to her surprise there was also the royal family from Strangia: the King and Queen and their daughter. Sophie, like many Ingarians would in her shoes, felt a bit of distrust. She hadn't remembered that the Strangians were coming. Animosity had been stirring between Ingary and Strangia for some time, through long discussions that never led to treaties and trading disagreements. Sophie disliked the Strangian clan instinctively more than the High Norlanders, though she was careful to be polite. High Norland was Ingary's prospective enemy as well, but Strangia and Ingary had built up more animosity.
"And may I present my apprentice, Miss Sophie Jenkins," Howl said, flourishing a hand in her direction.
Sophie noticed the King rose a brow at her last name and title but must have caught on to reasons why she had them. She only bobbed in a polite curtsy, a small polite smile on her lips.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Jenkins," the King of Ingary said.
The company then began to engage in polite conversations that seemed tense with an underlying thread beneath their words, pulled taut. Sophie wondered at this. After half an hour, the Queen of Strangia expressed a desire to dance, and so the ruling monarchs of Strangia and Ingary both went off to the ballroom floor. The King of High Norland, King Adolphus X, who had been eyeing some cakes and crumpets on a nearby table for much of the past hour, excused himself delightedly. This left Howl and Sophie in the company of the two princesses. Howl immediately asked Princess Beatrice of Strangia to dance, but Sophie assumed this was good politics. Princess Beatrice protested, however, explaining that she had two left feet, and claimed Princess Hilda of High Norland would most likely want to dance. Princess Hilda looked put out by this, but gave a challenging look in Howl's direction. He smiled charmingly and held out his hand.
As the two went out to dance, Sophie was alarmed to realize she was alone with the princess of her country's potential enemy. But she was far more surprised when the princess said, "Oh, thank God Hilda's such a trooper. If she'd disagreed I'm sure he would have asked me again. I know it's only politics and all that, but I can't abide these heels."
Sophie glanced around, but realized the princess was speaking to her and no one else. Apparently, everyone else was too daunted to approach the Princess of Strangia. "I'm not used to garments like these, either. Not that I'm comparing myself to a princess!"
Princess Beatrice shifted. "My parents forced me to come. I hate balls. I usually sneak out of the ones at home after an hour. I doubt I can do that here."
"The life of a princess sounds more difficult than I imagined," Sophie said.
"I don't mean to complain. No, that's not it-I do. I know there's plenty worse off than me, like those who work in the mines, but it can be awfully restricting. Anything with politics is. So when you see your suitor asking other ladies to dance, he's as obligated to do that as we are to oblige."
Sophie looked at her, horrified that she'd been found out.
Princess Beatrice's tanned face broke into a smile. "I wouldn't have known, except you came with him and you've been watching him dance with Hilda our entire conversation."
Sophie wanted to scurry away and lock herself in a closet somewhere.
"You haven't been his...'apprentice' for long, have you?" Princess Beatrice asked.
"No," she answered miserably. "I'm sorry," she added, though she didn't know what for.
"Then you're not used to all of this," she said, waving her hand out at the ballroom. "I'm sure he'd rather dance with - oh."
Princess Hilda was coming back, and Howl was dancing with some other girl. This girl was young and beautiful, with rolling locks of golden curls and a pretty little beauty mark right beneath her left eye.
"He's a nice dancer," Princess Hilda said regally, "but too eager with these new dances. I'd prefer more old-fashioned waltzes."
"Did that girl approach him?" Princess Beatrice said, giving a sidelong glance at Sophie.
"No. After I excused myself, I saw him ask her."
"Oh. She's not even royalty, is she? He hasn't any excuse. Even if you are an 'apprentice', he still has no obligation to hold off dancing with you until later. You ought to go dance with all sorts of men. I'd suggest your king's brother I've heard talk of, but I suppose the King mentioned he's up north at the moment. You might want to go by the desserts or something, though. I don't think many of your people will want to associate with you if you're by your country's enemies."
Sophie looked at her again in surprise.
"We are what we are, but hopefully this show of goodwill helps," Princess Hilda said. "None of us want to go to war."
"At least your father listens to you," Princess Beatrice said, scoffing. "My parents gave me so many tutors to educate me in leading a country, but now that I've long completed my studies, they still won't consider my opinion! Ingary's policies are not those I'd like in Strangia - excuse me, Miss Hatter - but aside from greed on both sides, there's no real reason for us to go to war. Absolutely ridiculous."
"You think your parents want to go to war with us?" Sophie asked.
Princess Beatrice hesitated. "No, it's not that they want to. It's just that they're like your king, I suppose: both parties see opportunities by conquering the other."
Sophie wanted to protest that the King of Ingary was not like that, but she thought of the way he calculated his way into orchestrating Howl becoming a Royal Wizard, whether Howl wanted to or not. The King didn't strike her as sinister, per se, but he did have a way about him that seemed to be conniving. She wondered if perhaps the King and Queen of Strangia were the same: opportunistic but not wicked. It was a tough thought for Sophie, whose patriotism felt rocked.
"To be fair," Princess Hilda replied calmly, "the King of Ingary has shown much more willingness to negotiate of late. He must have some good advisors, or good sense."
"Perhaps I ought to have been kinder to Wizard Pendragon, then," Princess Beatrice said dryly. The three of them noted that he was on his fourth dance.
Sophie refused to sulk. There had to be a good reason for all this. But now wasn't the time to storm up to him. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" she asked, just after Princess Beatrice suggested they grab some drinks. Almost as soon as Sophie abandoned the princesses, a well-dressed gentleman with his hair in a ponytail bowed to her and requested a dance. She agreed eagerly, too determined to be nervous. The dance wasn't one that would make Howl jealous, of course; she stepped on the man's feet thrice and he led them to bump right into another couple. But overall it was a success, and Sophie soon had her dance card filled with names. She danced for an hour before taking a break, tired but satisfied. The princesses had each danced a couple times, Beatrice more than Hilda, and they had briefly disappeared with their families to have a private audience with the King and Queen of Ingary, but Princess Beatrice was back alone, looking put out as she lounged in a chair by the thrones.
Sophie sought her out. "They didn't want your advice?"
"My father was very polite about it and said it wasn't fair to make a young princess sit through tedious meetings." The expression on Princess Beatrice's face was thunderous, her leg bouncing. She forced it still. "You looked like you were having some sweet satisfaction out there. I don't understand how your feet aren't in pain."
"I'm used to cleaning and standing in a shop," Sophie explained, sitting shyly when the princess motioned for her to do so. She reasoned that the chairs weren't actually thrones, so there was no disrespect given in doing so. "I've grown hardy, I suppose."
"He kept looking at you," Princess Beatrice said, nodding out to the floor. "I apologize for talking about your private affairs so much, but you see, I need to focus on something or else I'll fall asleep here in my chair."
"Did he?" Sophie asked, trying to find a balance of satisfaction, irritation, and excitement.
"And someone else keeps staring at the both of us now."
"Isn't that normal when one person is a princess?"
"But he's looking at you, too."
Sophie looked out, trying to follow Princess Beatrice's gaze.
"Good Lord, it's Mr. Collins."
It was, too. Sophie recognized the thin man loitering at the bottom of the steps leading to the thrones, a timid, hopeful grin on his face. For someone who had been broken off with in a very impolite manner, he looked pleased to see her. Sophie thought of Mrs. Pentstemmon's warning to her about Mr. Collins, but Sophie thought she owed it to him to be polite. Besides, she'd be more concerned if he looked resentful.
She excused herself and stepped down toward her ex-fiance. "Hello, Mr. Collins. I'm pleased to see you well."
"Miss Hatter, I'm pleased to see you as well!" he cried, with more enthusiasm than she remembered ever seeing from him. "I'd heard you'd gone missing, and I just want to say how very sorry I am for anything I may have done to cause you discomfort."
Huh, Sophie thought. That's unexpected.
"I appreciate your concern, Mr. Collins. There were many factors that led to me leaving. I'm doing quite well, though."
"Are you really?" He seemed so truly surprised that she felt strange and irritated.
"I am, despite being the eldest of three," she returned with only a hint of curtness.
Aside from someone kidnapping and impersonating my stepmother, my sister being cursed, Howl being cursed, having to break off a fire demon's contract...The list goes on.
"Well," he said, a weak smile on his face. "That is a relief."
His eyes kept moving to the left.
"Yes, Mr. Collins?" Sophie asked, a little exasperated.
"Well," he said giddily, "if you'd be so kind-"
"There you are, Sophie. I've been looking everywhere for you."
A hand wrapped around her shoulders, and Sophie looked up at Howl in surprise. He smiled pleasantly at Mr. Collins, who stood a few inches short of him.
"Mr. Collins," he said, "the son of Collins & Co. I'm sure you've heard of it."
Howl raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Collins." He looked down at Sophie briefly before flashing the other man a grin. "No, I don't believe I have."
Mr. Collins flushed a bit. "Miss Hatter here was just about to introduce me to the princess of Strangia."
"Oh, I was, was I?" Sophie returned.
"I never knew you had such connections, Miss Hatter," Mr. Collins said, his color returning to normal.
"I don't," Sophie said curtly.
"It's fine."
The group looked up to see Princess Beatrice descending the steps. She looked at Mr. Collins critically.
"Princess Beatrice," Sophie said reluctantly, but knowing that the princess could handle herself. "May I present to you Mr. Collins. My ex-fiance."
Mr. Collins looked aghast that she'd revealed it, but Sophie kept her face carefully blank.
"An ex-fiance? You are an interesting creature, Miss -"
"Sophie," she said. "Please, call me Sophie." She didn't want any confusions with her surname.
"Princess Beatrice," Mr. Collins said, looking thrilled. "May I just say, it is an absolute honor to be in your presence." He bent down and kissed her hand for a few seconds longer than necessary. Beatrice snatched it away.
"Yes, well, kind of you to say so," the princess said. "Do you always ask your ex-fiancees to introduce you to other women, including royalty, Mr. Collins?"
Mr. Collins paled, then turned an ugly shade of red-purple. "Why - no - I mean to say - "
"You may wish to consider your sense of propriety," Princess Beatrice said severely. "Have you any interest in horseback riding?"
"I - no -"
"Do you like being outdoors, Mr. Collins?"
"No - "
"Then we'd be a horrible match. You look afraid of me, Mr. Collins. Is that because I'm Strangian or because I'm speaking so openly?"
"Er - "
"If I'm ever to find myself under the misfortune of being attached to someone, he'd better be a man with an intelligent mouth and mind, Mr. Collins. Good evening, sir."
"Well, I - "
"Good evening, Mr. Collins."
The man gaped, turned to Sophie with that fish-like look, then slunk away.
That proved it. Mr. Collins wasn't dangerous. He was just an idiot.
"Bravo," said Howl, sounding very impressed.
But the look Princess Beatrice shot him was not much kinder than the one she'd given Mr. Collins.
"Let's dance," Sophie said to Howl, surprising herself and him, if his wide eyes were anything to go by. He bowed deeply to the princess, who looked past him to give Sophie a look that said, "What strange taste you have," and then silently offered his hand to Sophie. They walked together to the ballroom floor and began to dance to a fast-paced waltz that threatened to undo Sophie's carefully pinned hair. It proved a nice outlet to her anxieties, and soon she found the reeling had her laughing, especially when Howl seemed to "punish" her when she accidentally stepped on his feet by veering off another direction to throw her off. Though he'd been strangely quiet, he soon broke out into laughter too, earning glances from others, who were apparently shocked to see Howl so free with laughter with one woman - Howl, who was notorious for attending to many women with a debonair act.
As the music was tamed to a slower rhythm, Sophie felt bold and comfortable enough to ask, "Why did you dance with so many women tonight?"
"My dear Sophie, are you jealous?"
There was that tone again. Good-humored, teasing, even a little honest - but all that was a blanket to cover something up. It was the tone he'd used all night with her.
"Are you hiding something from me?" Sophie dared to ask.
Howl looked at her, surprised - and pleading.
It's all right to be honest with him, she told herself. It's all right to believe in him.
"Compared to a few days ago, you've just been awfully distant. I don't think you've ever been so distant, even when we first met," Sophie said, trying to make it sound light and not like she was attacking him like usual, because suddenly she wasn't sure if they'd stand a bickering session, not now, not when everything felt so taut and frail. She couldn't put her finger on what it was that made her feel this way, but she could feel whatever-this-was falling through her fingers like sand, even as she tried to keep it close to her chest.
They'd been barely swaying, and now they had stopped altogether. Howl kept looking at her like he was trying to he wanted to say something, but he wasn't running. Surely because he wasn't changing the subject or finding an excuse to walk alway, it meant they had hope.
He squeezed her hand in his tightly before loosening his grip, looking up at her with a false grin.
"My dear Sophie," he said, gently, "you know my reputation. Surely you didn't expect us to be serious after only a few kisses, did you?"
Sophie heard a soft knock at her bedroom door that night - or morning, rather, as it was past midnight. The door creaked open, and two sets of feet padded their way into her room.
"Sophie, are you awake?"
"How was the ball?"
"Did you dance?"
"Did you meet the royalty there?"
"Sophie?"
But she remained buried under her blankets, pretending to be asleep until the door closed behind them. She curled around a pillow.
It was now June 10.
Prettyinpinkgal: The Polly referred to in the chapter title is a reference to the main character in DWJ's Fire and Hemlock, one of my favorite books ever. It might have HMC beat. I'll try not to spoil it, but there are instances where Sophie has gone through some similar emotional barriers as Polly. Feel free to speculate in your review.
Mr. Collins' actions are similar to those in Pride & Prejudice. Howl's words when he approaches Sophie is a little similar to his movie lines in a similar scene.
Please review :)
