"Sylvia, it's beautiful!" exclaimed Anya, staring at her sister. "I mean
it, you look gorgeous!"
"Thanks." said Sylvia. She swirled around, looking at her reflection in a tall three-way mirror. She was beautiful. She was wearing her ball gown, which she had fitted and sewn. The skirt swirled, the sleeves billowed whenever they caught a whiff of air, and the dark green color did indeed bring out her green eyes.
"How's your dress coming?" Sylvia asked. "This one didn't take that long."
"Because you used your magic to sew it." said Anya accusingly. Sylvia laughed.
"I know. Sorry. You want help with yours?"
"No, that's all right. It's almost finished. You might want to offer the help to Cinderella though --- she just barely finished unpicking it!"
"She'd probably accuse me of trying to use magic just so I could curse her dress so she'd look fat every time she wore it or something." Sylvia laughed.
"That's not a bad idea!" exclaimed Anya. "Could you?"
"I could but I won't."
"Why not?"
"Because Mother would kill me."
"Mother wouldn't kill a fly."
"Well, okay, that's true. Because I don't want to waste my energy on it. She'd be pretty even if she was fat."
Anya sighed. "I know. Still, it would be fun, wouldn't it..."
* * * * * "Cinderella, aren't you done yet?" asked Anya. Cinderella sat in a chair in front of the fire, holding her gown and a threaded needle in her lap. "Have you even STARTED?"
"I don't know why I should have to do servant's work," said Cinderella with an annoyed air. "Can't we HIRE somebody to do this?"
"No, unless you can pay for it," said Anya. "And you can't, you don't have enough money." "Oh, and how do you know that?" Cinderella asked testily.
"Because you don't work hard enough to get a job, which means you don't have any money. And you spend any money you get right away, so you don't have any savings."
"Why doesn't your MOTHER pay for it?" asked Cinderella, with an injured sniff. "She's SUPPOSED to be taking CARE of me. But no, I've been made into a maid in my own home."
"Poor thing," said Anya unconvincingly. "Poor little MAID, she has to sew her own dress."
"Go away!" said Cinderella haughtily.
"No."
"Go AWAY!" Cinderella shrieked.
"Fine," said Anya. "Goodness, you do have a short temper, don't you? I hear princes aren't too impressed by that."
"What do PRINCES have to do with anything?" asked Cinderella, trying to act aloof, but interested in spite of herself.
"Well, we ARE attending a ball in little more than two weeks. It's being held in honor of the prince, and I hear that he's going to try and find a wife at the ball," said Anya unconcernedly. I shook my head. News --- and rumors --- certainly traveled fast. Unless of course Anya was making this up to tease Cinderella. I wouldn't put it past her. Or hold it against her, for that matter
"I'm not old enough to be married," said Cinderella. "Your mother would never allow it."
"She would if the PRINCE wanted to marry you. It doesn't matter, though. He'll not be likely to notice you anyways."
And Anya slipped out of the room before Cinderella could say anything.
Cinderella stood up and set her sewing down in her chair. Then she curtsied to the air, and began to dance and sing, a love song about how handsome the prince was. The door opened and Anya stuck her head in. "WHAT are you doing?" Anya asked. Cinderella stopped her imaginary dance.
"Aren't I supposed to? I'm a slave, I'm going to a ball, aren't I supposed to start a musical number right about now?" she asked, looking puzzled. Anya groaned, and left, slamming the door behind her. And Cinderella began her song and dance routine again. I sighed and shook my head.
I was beginning to like this idea of marrying her off to the prince... get rid of her, the stepfamily goes home happy, she's a princess, and the prince has his beautiful wife.
And Prince Charming and my client were PERFECT for each other.
* * * * * "I think I have the whole situation under control," I reported happily. I leaned back in one of the purple chairs in Mrs. Pearl's office. "The biggest problem now will be getting Cinderella to sew her dress," I concluded with a grin.
"Well, it seems to be working out fine," began Mrs. Pearl. "But ---" her voice trailed off.
"But what? I think it's all working out all right. The only thing I have to worry about now is her sewing her dress and getting to the ball safely."
"Well, not exactly." Mrs. Pearl said. "There is no guarantee that Prince Charming will select her to be his wife."
"What do you mean? She's gorgeous, and once he hears her woeful story, I'm guessing he'll take pity on her."
"You don't even know if he'll notice her, let alone have a conversation. There are thousands of maidens in the country, and nearly all of them will go. Not to mention all the men --- they wouldn't want people to know he's trying to find a wife, otherwise he'd be mobbed, no matter where he went, so they invited EVERYBODY, mostly as protection." Mrs. Pearl laughed wryly. "And there will be lots of gorgeous women there, not only is his entire kingdom coming --- thank heavens it's a small one, otherwise his palace couldn't hold them all, let alone his ball room --- but there will be princesses from other countries as well."
"Couldn't I interfere a bit?" I asked.
"I wouldn't suggest it. Romances go all right when they're prodded and pinched in the right direction, but if you tell a prince or girl who to marry, they usually bristle and get all stubborn, saying they can make their own decisions and so on. And I don't know if there are many ways that you could prod that would work." "Then what can I do? The ball is in only a little more than a week."
"Well, for one thing --- though I doubt she'll need much persuasion --- talk to Cinderella. Give her tips on how to catch a prince's attention. You should have covered that sort of thing in your second year at the G.A."
I nodded.
Mrs. Pearl continued: "I think she'll take it better if you try to tell her to marry a prince than he will if you tell him to marry a peasant."
"But he said he's all right with commoners."
"Oh, he'll say that, of course," she said dismissively with a wave of her hand, "but he won't really be all right with it until he meets a commoner that he likes. General princely behavior." she chuckled. "They're all the same."
"Should I disguise myself when I talk to Cinderella?"
"Mmm...." She thought for a moment. "No. I think this one would like to know that she has a fairy godmother on her case."
"All right."
"Run along, then." Mrs. Pearl said with a smile. "I think you may want to tackle this right away."
"Thank you for the help. I could have made a big muddle over this," I said as I stood up.
"Not a problem. It's my job."
"Bye!" I said, as I made to leave the room. Just before I closed the door, she called "Celeste!"
"Yes?" I stuck my head back in through the door.
Mrs. Pearl raised her eyebrows. "You may wish to mention to your client that princes aren't too impressed with unstitched ball gowns."
I laughed. "Yes, ma'am!"
"Thanks." said Sylvia. She swirled around, looking at her reflection in a tall three-way mirror. She was beautiful. She was wearing her ball gown, which she had fitted and sewn. The skirt swirled, the sleeves billowed whenever they caught a whiff of air, and the dark green color did indeed bring out her green eyes.
"How's your dress coming?" Sylvia asked. "This one didn't take that long."
"Because you used your magic to sew it." said Anya accusingly. Sylvia laughed.
"I know. Sorry. You want help with yours?"
"No, that's all right. It's almost finished. You might want to offer the help to Cinderella though --- she just barely finished unpicking it!"
"She'd probably accuse me of trying to use magic just so I could curse her dress so she'd look fat every time she wore it or something." Sylvia laughed.
"That's not a bad idea!" exclaimed Anya. "Could you?"
"I could but I won't."
"Why not?"
"Because Mother would kill me."
"Mother wouldn't kill a fly."
"Well, okay, that's true. Because I don't want to waste my energy on it. She'd be pretty even if she was fat."
Anya sighed. "I know. Still, it would be fun, wouldn't it..."
* * * * * "Cinderella, aren't you done yet?" asked Anya. Cinderella sat in a chair in front of the fire, holding her gown and a threaded needle in her lap. "Have you even STARTED?"
"I don't know why I should have to do servant's work," said Cinderella with an annoyed air. "Can't we HIRE somebody to do this?"
"No, unless you can pay for it," said Anya. "And you can't, you don't have enough money." "Oh, and how do you know that?" Cinderella asked testily.
"Because you don't work hard enough to get a job, which means you don't have any money. And you spend any money you get right away, so you don't have any savings."
"Why doesn't your MOTHER pay for it?" asked Cinderella, with an injured sniff. "She's SUPPOSED to be taking CARE of me. But no, I've been made into a maid in my own home."
"Poor thing," said Anya unconvincingly. "Poor little MAID, she has to sew her own dress."
"Go away!" said Cinderella haughtily.
"No."
"Go AWAY!" Cinderella shrieked.
"Fine," said Anya. "Goodness, you do have a short temper, don't you? I hear princes aren't too impressed by that."
"What do PRINCES have to do with anything?" asked Cinderella, trying to act aloof, but interested in spite of herself.
"Well, we ARE attending a ball in little more than two weeks. It's being held in honor of the prince, and I hear that he's going to try and find a wife at the ball," said Anya unconcernedly. I shook my head. News --- and rumors --- certainly traveled fast. Unless of course Anya was making this up to tease Cinderella. I wouldn't put it past her. Or hold it against her, for that matter
"I'm not old enough to be married," said Cinderella. "Your mother would never allow it."
"She would if the PRINCE wanted to marry you. It doesn't matter, though. He'll not be likely to notice you anyways."
And Anya slipped out of the room before Cinderella could say anything.
Cinderella stood up and set her sewing down in her chair. Then she curtsied to the air, and began to dance and sing, a love song about how handsome the prince was. The door opened and Anya stuck her head in. "WHAT are you doing?" Anya asked. Cinderella stopped her imaginary dance.
"Aren't I supposed to? I'm a slave, I'm going to a ball, aren't I supposed to start a musical number right about now?" she asked, looking puzzled. Anya groaned, and left, slamming the door behind her. And Cinderella began her song and dance routine again. I sighed and shook my head.
I was beginning to like this idea of marrying her off to the prince... get rid of her, the stepfamily goes home happy, she's a princess, and the prince has his beautiful wife.
And Prince Charming and my client were PERFECT for each other.
* * * * * "I think I have the whole situation under control," I reported happily. I leaned back in one of the purple chairs in Mrs. Pearl's office. "The biggest problem now will be getting Cinderella to sew her dress," I concluded with a grin.
"Well, it seems to be working out fine," began Mrs. Pearl. "But ---" her voice trailed off.
"But what? I think it's all working out all right. The only thing I have to worry about now is her sewing her dress and getting to the ball safely."
"Well, not exactly." Mrs. Pearl said. "There is no guarantee that Prince Charming will select her to be his wife."
"What do you mean? She's gorgeous, and once he hears her woeful story, I'm guessing he'll take pity on her."
"You don't even know if he'll notice her, let alone have a conversation. There are thousands of maidens in the country, and nearly all of them will go. Not to mention all the men --- they wouldn't want people to know he's trying to find a wife, otherwise he'd be mobbed, no matter where he went, so they invited EVERYBODY, mostly as protection." Mrs. Pearl laughed wryly. "And there will be lots of gorgeous women there, not only is his entire kingdom coming --- thank heavens it's a small one, otherwise his palace couldn't hold them all, let alone his ball room --- but there will be princesses from other countries as well."
"Couldn't I interfere a bit?" I asked.
"I wouldn't suggest it. Romances go all right when they're prodded and pinched in the right direction, but if you tell a prince or girl who to marry, they usually bristle and get all stubborn, saying they can make their own decisions and so on. And I don't know if there are many ways that you could prod that would work." "Then what can I do? The ball is in only a little more than a week."
"Well, for one thing --- though I doubt she'll need much persuasion --- talk to Cinderella. Give her tips on how to catch a prince's attention. You should have covered that sort of thing in your second year at the G.A."
I nodded.
Mrs. Pearl continued: "I think she'll take it better if you try to tell her to marry a prince than he will if you tell him to marry a peasant."
"But he said he's all right with commoners."
"Oh, he'll say that, of course," she said dismissively with a wave of her hand, "but he won't really be all right with it until he meets a commoner that he likes. General princely behavior." she chuckled. "They're all the same."
"Should I disguise myself when I talk to Cinderella?"
"Mmm...." She thought for a moment. "No. I think this one would like to know that she has a fairy godmother on her case."
"All right."
"Run along, then." Mrs. Pearl said with a smile. "I think you may want to tackle this right away."
"Thank you for the help. I could have made a big muddle over this," I said as I stood up.
"Not a problem. It's my job."
"Bye!" I said, as I made to leave the room. Just before I closed the door, she called "Celeste!"
"Yes?" I stuck my head back in through the door.
Mrs. Pearl raised her eyebrows. "You may wish to mention to your client that princes aren't too impressed with unstitched ball gowns."
I laughed. "Yes, ma'am!"