Princess Phoebe and the Midnight Gown
A Cinderella story
Edith Willey
Phoebe stared out the dirt-flecked orphanage window, her eyes glued on two dim figures walking down the street toward the orphanage. Phoebe was a girl of about fourteen who had golden-brown eyes and long wavy black hair that was most often tied up in a tight braid on the back of her head. She had been living at Miss. Pratteck's Home for Girls all her life, and it was home to her. She knew not what it was like to have a family, but from stories told by other girls, she'd gathered that it was wonderful. But she was perfectly content living at the cozy- if a little shabby- orphanage with kind-hearted Miss. Pratteck leading her through the difficulties life threw her way. Even so, she'd always dreamed of the day a loving couple would come to the orphanage and adopt her. Phoebe was a brave girl with only two fears: of piranhas- which Janey Andrews had told her about- and of being taken in by a family then being rejected and sent back. Today her heart was filled with that of her second fear, along with great excitement, that evening as she gazed at the two figures who drew nearer ever second. Suddenly, a shrill cry shook her from her world of dreams and brought her with a crash back down to her real world; the chaotic top-floor nursery where she was on baby duty with Anntionette Caddle, the only thing that made the orphanage a slightly imperfect place.
What are looking at out there that is so completely distracting, Princess Phoebe? Anntionette yelled at Phoebe, each word accented with a jerky bob of her head which caused her full blond curls to bounce in front of her face, blocking the view of her petite freckled cheeks.
Phoebe looked down at the ground and shook her head. she mumbled, knowing that if she'd told Anntionette what she'd been looking at, Anntionette would laugh at her for believing that a family would actually want her. And, don't call me Princess.
Anntionette let out a high-pitched laugh. Sorry...Princess Phoebe.
Phoebe rolled her eyes, then started around the rows of cribs to check for dirty diapers. She wasn't going to let Anntionette ruin this day for her, a couple was coming, maybe to adopt her, and she wanted to be in a good mood when they arrived.
Girls, girls, there's a couple here to see about adopting one of you! Miss. Pratteck called upstairs to the girls, her voice echoing in the stairwell. Phoebe leaped up from the windowsill where she'd been reclining, and raced toward the stairs, dropping the book she'd been reading. She rushed toward Miss. Pratteck and embraced her in a firm hug. Oh, Miss. P, I knew someone'd come someday, I just knew it!
Come on child, it's not the first time someone's come here. Why're you so all-fired excited about these two?
Phoebe faltered. There was no way she could possibly explain to Miss. Pratteck-who'd never been an orphan herself how she'd felt when she'd seen the two sun-sprinkled figures walking down the quiet November street. Somehow Phoebe just knew they'd be perfect people who'd adopt her love her as if she was there own flesh-and-blood child.
You can imagine her disappointment when several minutes later a tall lanky man, and a huge plump mountain of a woman walked into the room and stood before the girls. Phoebe's heart sank when the gigantic woman swung her purse at the man and sharply reprimanded him for stepping-if you could call it that-on her toe. The man shied away like a nervous horse and went to go stand by the window, pretending to be engrossed by the scenery-of which there was none-outside the window. When he saw Phoebe though, his jaw dropped. He quickly closed his mouth and winked roughishly at Phoebe. He was about to say something, but was silenced by a sharp look from Stell. These were not the kind of people Phoebe had hoped for. The woman suddenly flipped around, innteruppting Phoebe's thoughts, and proceded to give each girl a sloppy kiss on her forehead.
When she reached Phoebe she looked over her sturdy body, and her eyes lit up with an evil glimmer. she whispered in an oily voice. Aren't you the sweetest little thing I ever did see! Phoebe's heart thumped. She was becoming more and more afraid of this woman every second.
Miss. Pratteck saved Phoebe from being kissed by the vile female when she cleared her throat and spoke up. Girls, I'd like you to meet Frederick and Stell Mearinger. Please say hello. The crowd of girls murmered a slurred hello.
Stell snarled at Miss. Pratteck, her fake smile replaced with an ugly sneer. It gonna cost much to take one o' these little beauties?
Miss. Pratteck shook her head dumbly. Why don't we discuss that downstairs, Mrs. Mearinger. Which girl are thinking about?
The one with the curls, and... Phoebe held her breath. ...And that black haired one. Phoebe choked. They couldn't take her! Surely Miss. Pratteck could stop them! As Phoebe found out several minutes later; she couldn't.
Half an hour later, Phoebe bid farewell to Miss. Pratteck and all of her friends. Then, she and Anntionette packed up their few belongings and boarded a carriage that Stell had flagged.
The ride out to the Mearingers' farm- if what was left of it could be called a farm- was fairly short. The beautiful country-side scenery was wasted on Phoebe who spent the entire trip silently grieving for the home she'd left behind. Anntionette on the other hand couldn't be kept quiet. Ohh, I'm so glad that you've taken me in Stell! she gushed. Shall I call you Stell or how about mumsy? Or maybe-
She was cut short by Stell's sharp voice. Call me Stell. I shall call you Anntionette.
Anntionette giggled. And we shall call her Ashes, for that is all she is worth, she said laughing, with a gesture to Phoebe.
Stell gave a small, evil smile. Yes, Anntionette, I believe we shall. Ashes can be our maidservant, she shall tend to us hand and foot. You hear that Ashes? You are to be our maidservant! You shall do whatever dear Anntionette and I tell you to do. As for Frederick, pay him no heed, for he is a feather-brained and nervous wreck! Phoebe nodded weakly, knowing by now that to question word Stell's would mean bad news for her.
When they arrived at the ancient farm with its shabby farmhouse, run-down barn and solitary old horse chewing nonchalantly on the dry yellow scrub-grass that covered the ground, Stell led Anntionette and Phoebe to the farmhouse and showed them their rooms, while Frederick went to the kitchen to fix dinner, for it was awfully late. Phoebe's room was small and square, its floor was almost completely bare, with only a small reed mat in front of her bed, which was really only a short, thin, straw-stuffed cot. The room had only one window, which over-looked the dry pasture with the old chesnut-colored horse, the sheen of his short brown coat long gone.
Hot tears sprang to Phoebe's eyes as she gazed at the bare, unwelcoming room. She tried to hold them back, but they fought their out and soon were streaming freely down her face. Oh how she wished that vile lady had never come to the orphanage! She was certain that the rest of her life would be complete misery. She longed to be back at the orphanage with kind Miss. Pratteck and all her friends.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Phoebe quickly wiped away her tears and sat down on the cot. She took a book out from her bag and pretended to be engrossed in it. Soon Stell and Anntionette walked into the room, both carrying bundles of clothes. Stell thrust out with her free hand and snatched the book from Phoebe.
she shouted. Books indeed! Tomorrow when you stoke the breakfast fire you shall burn it, Ashes! Phoebe nodded sadly, but immediately perked up when she noticed that the clothes Stell and Anntionette carried were beautiful dresses. The outfit Phoebe donned was what all the girls at the orphanage had worn; it consisted of a sand-colored long-sleeved shirt, a gray skirt, and a black-and-white checked shawl. She had never owned a dress in her life, and the sight of Stell and Anntionette carrying armfuls of clothes let a flame of hope into her heart.
Are, are any of those for me? Phoebe stammered, spotting a black sleeveless gown that would go well with her black hair and emerald eyes.
Of course not! snapped Stell. Do you really think I would let a lowly maidsevrvent wear these gorgeous gowns?! Phoebe slowly shook her head as more tears welled up in her eyes. The evil woman had demolished Phoebe's last hope of ever being happy again.
After Anntionette had tried on every single dress- dreaming them all simply perfect- Stell announced that there were two dresses laid out on the hearth for Phoebe.
Phoebe started down the stairs to get a look at the dresses, but didn't get as far as the stairs, for Stell called out in a sharp voice: Where are you going, Ashes? I haven't even told what your daily chores are to be! Now get back here before I get the switch! Stell was not lying, for she had, just for the occasion, made a switch from a thin maple bough. Phoebe sprinted back up to the room where Stell gave her a long list of chores that she was to do each day.
After Stell left Anntionette couldn't help mention that if the chores were not she would see to it that Phoebe got acquainted with Stell's switch.
When Phoebe was done with her chores she went downstairs to take a look at the dresses she was to wear. By that time everyone else in the household was asleep, so Phoebe had to tiptoe on the extremely creaky steps. When she finally reached the hearth-luckily without waking anyone- Phoebe gazed down at the two dresses strewn on the stones of the hearth. They were identical. They were light brown with long sleeves and skirts that were just below knee length. The dresses were accompanied by stiff white aprons with no frills or lace on either of them. Next to them lay three crumpled white mob caps, their green ribbons wrinkled and faded.
With a heavy sigh and tear-filled eyes, Phoebe slipped one of the dresses over her head. Then she tied one of the aprons around her waist and stared at her reflection in the mirror that hung by kitchen doorway. The dress was stiff and scratchy, dirtied with soot from the fireplace. The dress was ugly. That was the only word for it: ugly. Phoebe plopped down on the floor, tears streaming down her face. She glanced at the fireplace, and when she did she noticed something; half hidden under a log was a small scroll. Phoebe carefully pulled it out from under the log and unfurled it. It read:
You are cordially invited to attend a week-long celebration in honor of Prince Leonard's fifteenth birthday; the age at which he is to wed. All unmarried woman eager to seek out a husband are to come to the palace at six from November 16-23. All who attend shall meet the prince. On the last night of the celebration, Prince Leonard will announce who he has chosen to be his bride.
Sincerely,
King Aaron
Phoebe stared at the scroll. Tonight was the twentie-first. In two days the prince would chose. Phoebe had to go. Perhaps the prince would chose to wed her! If he did, Phoebe would be free from the tyrannical clutches of Stell. Still clutching the paper, Phoebe ran quietly up the stairs and to her room, visions of the celebration swirling around in her head.
That night, Phoebe dreamed. She dreamed about meeting the prince and marrying him, then banishing Stell and Anntionette, forcing them to live in the sewers beneath her feet.
The next morning, Phoebe was up before dawn to start her chores. When she went out to feed the horse, it was cold, and an angry drizzle shot down from the sky. Even with the awful weather, Phoebe's heart-and head-stayed in their own dream world. When Phoebe went inside for breakfast, Stell and Anntionette were seated at the table, discussing the celebration that was to take place that night. From what Phoebe gathered, Stell had already been the other five nights, and was planning take Anntionette that night.
All through the day Phoebe tried to act clueless when Anntionette chattered endlessly about going to the celebration.
Finally, six o' clock came and Stell and Anntionette were off. Phoebe quickly finished her chores, then ran up to Anntionette's room to take a look at her dresses. When she reached Anntionette's door, however, it was blocked by Frederick, who, without Stell around, looked not as nervous and helpless as usual; quite the contrary actually.
Phoebe, tonight you shall go to the celebration, Frederick said in a firm voice. None of the others who attend tonight are as worthy of Prince Leonard's hand as you. You, as he, are of royal blood.
Phoebe stared at Frederick. I am none more royal than the horse out in the pasture, Frederick, how can you call me royal?
Frederick smiled. Give me your hand, Phoebe, and I shall prove to you that you are royal.
Slowly, Phoebe held out her hand. With a few muttered incantations, Frederick traced a design on Phoebe's hand, and to her utter amazement, it appeared.
Frederick said with a smile. is the mark of royalty. Every human of noble blood has one, Phoebe. Prince Leonard has one, though his is different than yours, for you come from different families.
Phoebe stared in wonderment at the symbol on her hand. But I have nothing to wear, she said with a forlorn look on her face.
A wide grin was spread on Frederick's face. Well, Phoebe, you are not the only one with a secret, he said, drawing a long staff from his breast pocket. You see, he said gazing amusedly at the astonished look on Phoebe's face. I am a wizard. You see Phoebe, your destiny is to marry Prince Leonard. Destiny usually works itself out, but sometimes destiny needs a little prod That's what I'm here for.
Phoebe's face broke into a wide smile. Can you make me a beautiful black gown with gold trim and sparkles and a silk shawl and and-
She was cut short by a shower of sparks from Frederick's wand. I can make you whatever you want, Phoebe, but you needn't tell me, for I can read your mind. Now stand still and close your eyes.
Phoebe did as she was told, and when she reopened her eyes, she was clothed in a flowing black gown. It had a silver belt and shimmering gold trim. Along with the dress was a plum-colored silk shawl and a pair of white satin shoes trimmed with iridescent glass beads. Phoebe gasped. Her hair was done up with diamonds woven into it and she donned an amethyst choker.
Frederick gazed at her. Why Phoebe, you look simply gorgeous. Phoebe blushed light scarlet. Well, I have a carriage for you waiting outside. You can go on to the celebration now. One last word of warning, though: If from midnight on you are not dancing, the spell shall be broken, and all that will be left of your outfit will be the gown. Not even any of the trim shall remain, just the black fabric of the gown. Phoebe nodded, then rushed downstairs to board the carriage.
When Phoebe arrived at the palace it was already swarming with people. She climbed up the carpeted steps of the palace and was greeted at the top by a young man with unruly red hair and a sprinkling of freckles. Hello, I am Prince Leonard, he said, taking a low bow. Phoebe returned it with a smiling and a deep curtsy. Prince Leonard took Phoebe's hand. (Luckily he noticed the mark on Phoebe's hand.)
Is your family's royal mark? Leonard questioned, pointing to the mark on Phoebe's hand. Phoebe nodded, a smile on her face. Leonard looked up from Phoebe's hand and their eyes met.
Leonard and Phoebe danced for hours. Then, the clock began to strike twelve. Phoebe pulled away from Leonard, waved, promised she'd be back the next night, and rushed out to her carriage.
That night Phoebe did not sleep.In her head she kept on playing a vision of that perfect night over, and over. She couldn't wait for the next night to come.
Misty beams of sunlight drifted through the lone window in Phoebe's room. Phoebe was not there to greet them, though, for, as she'd done the day before, she'd woken up before dawn to get an early start on her chores.
When Phoebe reached the castle that night Prince Leonard was waiting there for her. They danced and chatted for hours, then an older man came to speak to Leonard.
Sire, when will you announce your choice? he questioned.
Have everyone gathered in the Great Hall by midnight. At twelve thirty I shall announce my choice, the Prince answered with a sideways glance and a wink at Phoebe who was standing there, with a dropped jaw.
Phoebe, what's wrong? the Prince exclaimed with a worried look on his face.
Phoebe shook her head. Nothing, Prince Leonard. But Phoebe knew that she would have to stop dancing while Prince Leonard announced his choice, then when her beautiful outfit disappeared the Prince would change his mind and pick someone else, maybe Anntionette. Suddenly, Phoebe felt she could it no longer. She could not live if she spent another second with Leonard knowing he would end up marrying someone else. She ran. She ran down the palace steps, Leonard running after her and shouting. She ran beside the pebbly dirt road, the first of twelve rings of the clockbell ringing in her ears. She ran across tat meadow, the tall stalks if grass brushing against her legs. Then she ran across the dry grass of her lawn, now dressed only in tattered black dress that barely reached past her knees. She burst the front door and threw herself onto one of the shabby couches in the living room, sobbing uncontrollably.
Back at the palace the Prince was frantic. Father I must find her! I could visit every girl in the land and see if it was her. I know what she looks like. But people could fake it. Oh what am I to do, father! he cried.
Calm down son, King Aaron said gently, placing a heavy arm around Leonard's shoulder. Was there anything in particular that they couldn't fake? What was one thing you saw on her that could never be duplicated, no matter how hard you tried?
Leonard stared down at the palace's shiny marble floor, deep in thought. Then a look of excitement filled his eyes. Father, there is something! A mark on her hand similar to the one my shoulder! It was a mark of royalty, father! Have a carriage ready next morning, for tomorrow I shall score the land for my true love!
The next morning Phoebe woke late and was- to the extreme delight of Anntionette- harshly punished. Phoebe was so overcome with grief though, that she hardly cared.
Later that afternoon a man came to the door, asking to see all the girls residing in the house. Anntionette quickly came downstairs patting her hair, a gaudy smile plastered on her face. Phoebe, though had to be practically dragged down. When she saw the well-dressed man at the door she straightened up, but her features were still pulled down with sorrow.
The man pulled a sketch from his coat pocket, then asked the girls to hold out their hands. When the man's eyes caught sight of the mark on Phoebe's his eye's went wide. he breathed, then gathering himself, called, Prince Leonard, come here! I think we've found the maiden you've been looking for!
The prince came running in, and on seeing Phoebe let out a cry of joy. Phoebe! At last I've found you! Fetch your things, for you are coming to live at the palace with me! Phoebe hugged Leonard, then raced upstairs to pack her few belongings.
Lying on the cot in her room was the beautiful gown Frederick had made her. Frederick was standing beside the cot, a mixed look of pain and joy on his face. She ran to him and embraced him. Oh Frederick! she cried, tears of joy streaming down her face.
Frederick smiled. I have done my job here, and now I shall move on and let you do yours. Farewell, Princess Phoebe. And with that he dissapeared. Phoebe wiped the tears from her face, grabbed the gown, then ran down the stair, visions of a life lived happily ever after dancing in her head.