A/N: Yes, I'm still here. I know it took quite a while to get this up, and
I'm really sorry! *falls down on knees and implores you all to forgive me*
Or did anybody even notice?... Anyways, it's here now, and as you can see,
excitement is building in Arpathia! :-)
* * * * * *
Two days left to go. Just two days. I earnestly hoped that everything would go according to plan: Cinderella dons her gown, goes to the palace with her family. All dressed up in a ball gown, I catch her and give her the Grab-Me Glower, pin in onto her dress, and instruct her on how to use it. I stay at the ball, and observe the goings-on, nudging a little here and there if I need to. Cinderella and the prince fall in madly in love, and everybody lives happily ever after. Should be simple enough.
I hoped.
I left little anonymous packages on the Fleur's doorstep. One day some jewelry: a silver and sapphire necklace for Lydia, a delicate emerald ring and necklace set for Sylvia, some silver bracelets for Anya. And for Cinderella, a diamond tiara. Another day some Everfresh flowers, which, of course, matched their gowns. Cinderella hinted ominously that she knew who they were from, and, to her great irritation, her stepsisters didn't even ask her to tell them.
Lydia had hired a coach to take them to and from the palace. Cinderella, as usual, was irritated that it wasn't the grandest coach around... in fact, the door handles weren't even gold! And of course, as she was annoyed, she made sure the rest of the family was too. Though it wasn't the coach they were annoyed about.
The prince was bustling all over the palace, demanding that a thousand tiny fairies sit around on the roses outside and illuminate the balcony, that an entire orchestra play the music for the ball ("I don't CARE if there's not enough room! Build an addition!"), and that the food be only the finest --- and freshest --- delicacies available.
And the entire Arpathian countryside was in an uproar. There were daily fights in dress shops over which girl would get which dress, there were girls that would start screaming at another young lady on the street if she mentioned that she was interested in maybe marrying the prince (which meant that the streets were constantly filled with femenine screaming), among other things. I hadn't seen anything like this for a previous ball --- apparently the news had leaked out that Prince Charming was looking for a wife.
All Magical Assistance agencies were working overtime. I had two instances in which I was assigned to conjure up a dress and some transportation for some poor girl who couldn't get such things on her own. There was a guessing jar at the front desk of the G.A. Experience Agency, in which godmothers could write down who they thought would have the most luck with the prince, with a prize of 50 Nectars. I, of course, voted for Cinderella. The superstitious corner of my mind hoped it might have an effect on the outcome of my case. Really, really hoped.
One day left. Every maiden in the country (thank heavens it was a small one!) and several of the princesses and nobles from other countries had their ball gown in readiness. Several cosmetic stores had earned enough money from the past few weeks that they were able to open new stores full of goods. There wasn't a livery stable around that wasn't completely booked for the next night, and there were even a few ladies who were going to end up walking, as there were no free carriages around.
The Fleur household was in a flurry. Work had been abandoned, and the day was spent trying on different kinds of rouge --- Lydia had given special permission to Cinderella and Anya to wear it to the ball, "just this once!" --- and experimenting with hair. Lydia was almost as bad as the girls, flying around, looking through the attic for old jewelry and accessories, then dashing off to the market to get more hairclips, only to rush home to find out that Anya had ripped the hem of her dress. That was quickly sewn up, with help from Sylvia's magic, and the ladies fell to doing their hair once more.
I'm afraid I wasn't completely immune to the craze either. I would be attending the ball, so I convinced myself that the gown I had just purchased wouldn't suffice --- I had, after all, already appeared to Cinderella in it. Neither of my other gowns would do either, so I went out and bought another one. Luckily I regained SOME control after a while, and refrained from buying a sparkling purple contraption I never would have even considered while in my right mind... I settled for a simple but elegant silver gown, tight-fitting at the waist, with long, tight sleeves, and only a few petticoats underneath. Nothing fancy, but pretty, and luckily, quite inexpensive.
Then, finally, after all the waiting, all the hard work, the day of the ball arrived. The day when I would show my stuff, and hopefully ("please oh please oh please oh please") succeed in my first job...
* * * * * *
Two days left to go. Just two days. I earnestly hoped that everything would go according to plan: Cinderella dons her gown, goes to the palace with her family. All dressed up in a ball gown, I catch her and give her the Grab-Me Glower, pin in onto her dress, and instruct her on how to use it. I stay at the ball, and observe the goings-on, nudging a little here and there if I need to. Cinderella and the prince fall in madly in love, and everybody lives happily ever after. Should be simple enough.
I hoped.
I left little anonymous packages on the Fleur's doorstep. One day some jewelry: a silver and sapphire necklace for Lydia, a delicate emerald ring and necklace set for Sylvia, some silver bracelets for Anya. And for Cinderella, a diamond tiara. Another day some Everfresh flowers, which, of course, matched their gowns. Cinderella hinted ominously that she knew who they were from, and, to her great irritation, her stepsisters didn't even ask her to tell them.
Lydia had hired a coach to take them to and from the palace. Cinderella, as usual, was irritated that it wasn't the grandest coach around... in fact, the door handles weren't even gold! And of course, as she was annoyed, she made sure the rest of the family was too. Though it wasn't the coach they were annoyed about.
The prince was bustling all over the palace, demanding that a thousand tiny fairies sit around on the roses outside and illuminate the balcony, that an entire orchestra play the music for the ball ("I don't CARE if there's not enough room! Build an addition!"), and that the food be only the finest --- and freshest --- delicacies available.
And the entire Arpathian countryside was in an uproar. There were daily fights in dress shops over which girl would get which dress, there were girls that would start screaming at another young lady on the street if she mentioned that she was interested in maybe marrying the prince (which meant that the streets were constantly filled with femenine screaming), among other things. I hadn't seen anything like this for a previous ball --- apparently the news had leaked out that Prince Charming was looking for a wife.
All Magical Assistance agencies were working overtime. I had two instances in which I was assigned to conjure up a dress and some transportation for some poor girl who couldn't get such things on her own. There was a guessing jar at the front desk of the G.A. Experience Agency, in which godmothers could write down who they thought would have the most luck with the prince, with a prize of 50 Nectars. I, of course, voted for Cinderella. The superstitious corner of my mind hoped it might have an effect on the outcome of my case. Really, really hoped.
One day left. Every maiden in the country (thank heavens it was a small one!) and several of the princesses and nobles from other countries had their ball gown in readiness. Several cosmetic stores had earned enough money from the past few weeks that they were able to open new stores full of goods. There wasn't a livery stable around that wasn't completely booked for the next night, and there were even a few ladies who were going to end up walking, as there were no free carriages around.
The Fleur household was in a flurry. Work had been abandoned, and the day was spent trying on different kinds of rouge --- Lydia had given special permission to Cinderella and Anya to wear it to the ball, "just this once!" --- and experimenting with hair. Lydia was almost as bad as the girls, flying around, looking through the attic for old jewelry and accessories, then dashing off to the market to get more hairclips, only to rush home to find out that Anya had ripped the hem of her dress. That was quickly sewn up, with help from Sylvia's magic, and the ladies fell to doing their hair once more.
I'm afraid I wasn't completely immune to the craze either. I would be attending the ball, so I convinced myself that the gown I had just purchased wouldn't suffice --- I had, after all, already appeared to Cinderella in it. Neither of my other gowns would do either, so I went out and bought another one. Luckily I regained SOME control after a while, and refrained from buying a sparkling purple contraption I never would have even considered while in my right mind... I settled for a simple but elegant silver gown, tight-fitting at the waist, with long, tight sleeves, and only a few petticoats underneath. Nothing fancy, but pretty, and luckily, quite inexpensive.
Then, finally, after all the waiting, all the hard work, the day of the ball arrived. The day when I would show my stuff, and hopefully ("please oh please oh please oh please") succeed in my first job...