This is Prompt No. 4-Fairytale
"You must tell me!" Tess exclaimed for the third time, sitting eagerly on the edge of her carriage seat in the most unladylike fashion.
Mitchie rolled her eyes, knowing that in the darkness her friend would not be able to see the action and smiled. "No I mustn't, but I will."
Tess clapped her hands in approval and leaned back, satisfied. She immediately began arranging her skirts so that they would hang without wrinkle before she looked up and nodded, giving Mitchie a signal to go ahead with her story. "By all means," she told Mitchie excitedly. "Tell me."
"Well," Mitchie said, drawing out the word as she watched Tess squirm. Knowing that Tess would not be able to see her face, Mitchie smiled. This was an indulgence that rarely happened, for few things that happened to Mitchie interested Tess, and she would draw this out as much as possible. "No," she said, sitting back in her seat. "I'd better not."
"Mitchie!" The high-pitched whine made Mitchie smile again. She had Tess hooked, and she would not let her off so easily.
"Fine," she said, her tone indicated that even speaking of her experiences was pure martyrdom. "You placed me in quite a mess when you let that Frenchman dance with me," she said. A little guilt trip couldn't hurt that much.
"I'm sorry," Tess said, all eagerness and happiness gone from her voice. "I didn't realize that France could be so dangerous indoors. I'm glad that the harlequin was able to save you in time." At the mention of his name, the excitement was back in Tess's voice. "So what happened after that?"
"Well," Mitchie said, trying to remember everything in the correct order. "He asked me to dance."
"Yes," Tess agreed. "I saw you two. You were fabulous! I thought you didn't like to dance."
"I don't," Mitchie explained truthfully. "But dancing with him was so different and so…wonderful." Tess said nothing, but Mitchie could sense her friend's excitement from across the moving carriage. "So then, he asked me to take a walk with him and we ended up on the balcony, and then we took off our masks. After that, we almost kissed, but you happened along us at the exact wrong moment."
"Sorry." The tone of Tess's voice indicated that she really was. "I mean, what you were doing wasn't really appropriate. You'd only met the man a couple of hours ago, but," she said, her voice softening, "it sounds like you really liked him, so I'm sorry."
The carriage arrived soon at the young ladies' dwelling and Tess tipped the driver. They climbed the stairs and entered the building rather silently, opening the door in time to see the maid go flying off her chair in surprise, sheets of paper scatting as he fell. Skirts and cap array, the maid looked up at her mistress guiltily, her flawless, dark skin turning a dusky shade of red in embarrassment.
"Why, you lazy girl!" Tess cried out angrily. "Whose letters have you opened? Speak!"
Mitchie bent and retrieved one sheet of paper, glancing at the greeting. "Don't be angry with her," she told her friend before Tess could do something rash. "She didn't do anything wrong." She held up the letter so that Tess could see proof. "These letters are hers." She smiled at Lola and said, "I'm sure we'll find that she's completed every task with the utmost perfection and has simply taken some time to relax and read her letters. Am I right, Lola?"
The pretty maid nodded bashfully. "Yes, Miss Torres," she said meekly, casting quick, nervous glances Tess's way.
"Humph!" Tess said, handing the letter back to Mitchie and announcing, "I'm going to bed, goodnight."
"Goodnight," Mitchie responded.
"Goodnight, m'lady," the maid echoed. When the door to Tess's bedroom closed, Lola bent to pick up the scattered sheets of paper. "Thank you, Miss," she said as Mitchie handed her the last few sheets, "for sticking up for me."
"You're welcome," Mitchie said, returning the maid's shy smile. "If I might ask, are those letters from your sweetheart?"
Lola turned red all over again. "Well, Miss, there're actually two letters. One's from a freed man named Barron and the other is a slave on a plantation down in Florida named Sander. They each learned to read and write, so they write to me once a year and cram as much as they can into one letter." She smiled up at Mitchie shyly. "Trouble is, I can't decide which one to pick."
Mitchie smiled. "Every girl's dream," she told Lola, "to have too many men mooning after her and not know what to do with them all." She winked at Lola. "I'm sure your fairytale will have a happy ending. Goodnight, Lola."
"Goodnight, Miss Torres," Lola said. "May you have the same kind of luck in your ending," she whispered as Mitchie's door closed with a click.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! A shoutout goes out to both Kacee and xxlovely who have reviewed each chapter and have kept me going. Thanks both of you!
