Short, yes, but the past few chapters have been monstrous.
The days passed this way. The palace and city were certainly going mad with the mystery of Prince Wyatt and his disappearances. Christine remained in the cottage, and each day Wyatt would bring her food. They would eat together, talk, laugh. Sometimes I listened in. They spoke of books. Apparently Wyatt was reading more. Just to have something to talk about with her?
I was happy for them. I really was.
I also hated them for it.
And then as that hate was happening I would once again become thrilled over what I saw. This was all because of me. My precious work. I almost wished Bernard could come see it.
But Bernard was nowhere. At least, nowhere that I could see. I imagined he remained invisible, watching out of the shadows. I did not know the rules for him.
But if all went well, his daughter would indeed become a princess.
I did not go into town. I did not return to Melissa's house. And I did not see anywhere in the woods the strange man who had been meeting with Grace. I still thought of him, though. I wanted to know who he was. But as the days passed, I thought less and less of him, until he was merely a figure I watched for from the corner of my way without a conscious thought.
The cottage was fine without Wyatt. Christine was just as happy. She and I found projects to do. We exchanged our little knowledge of the forest, but examined enough things on walks that we supposed we could make our own book if we actually knew the names of the things we saw.
And then it came. The day of the ball. Without warning, the sun rose one day and it was the day Wyatt would become King.
Wyatt had told Christine he couldn't come that day, though he had made her promise to attend the ball. She had, like a simpering little girl, agreed.
And I had smiled. I had no other choice but to smile. As much as I wanted to be the one going to the ball, the sight made me smile. It was all very confusing for me.
I felt more excited for the ball than Christine, actually. After all, she was going to wear the dress I had created. I spent the day describing it to her, over and over again, and by this time she was giddy enough to become absorbed by the idea of the dress, though I knew she couldn't believe it's beauty until she saw it. She even wanted to follow me back to Melissa's house, but I couldn't allow that. She had been gone for days. Who knew what the crazy women would do upon seeing her again?
When I entered the house, invisible, I didn't hear any mention of Christine. They were preparing themselves for the ball. Melissa orchestrated the whole thing as if her daughters had already been proposed to.
When had it been commanded that Wyatt pick a bride at this? Like a man about to be crowned King would be worrying about wedding plans.
Still, I couldn't resist to peek in and see just what Grace and Amelia were wearing.
Amelia selected pink, and I had to admit it suited her. Lace fringed it, and the skirt was wide. It was girlish and pretty, but very romantic and even sudductive.
Grace's ankle was still out of commission, but apparently still planned to attend the ball. She wore a pale green. I did not like it as much as I liked Amelia's, but it also suited her, and at least covered up her leg.
How silly of me, spying and even approving of other girls' dresses.
Still, the one I had created for Christine was the best. It remained in the little room, untouched, the slippers still glinting.
Everyone would be out-shown by my dress. And Christine.
Christine jumped for joy when she was the dress. "It's beautiful, Fawn!" she exclaimed as she gently ran a hand down the skirt. I've never worn yellow. Do you think I'll look good in it?"
"I know you will," I insisted. "I made it especially for you. Try it on. How well did I make the fit?"
"And if you didn't?" She was already pulling off the thing that looked like rags in comparison.
"Then I'll fix it with a snap!"
The dress fit her perfectly, as I had expected. And she looked even more beautiful than I had expected.
She laughingly spun in circles through the small cottage room, dress spinning like a perfect candle glow around her. "I've never had such a dress."
"Wyatt will love you in it."
She stopped spinning and looked at me, still smiling. "Thank-you. So much, Fawn." She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. "I know what this means to you."
I hugged her back. "I'm happy for you. I want you both to be happy."
She next tried on the slippers. She gasped. "They're comfortable! I thought they'd be painful!" Even in the shadows of the cottage they gleamed. "They're like glass!"
I did her hair. Without magic. Mostly.
The sun was already setting by the time she was ready. She no longer looked like Christine. She looked brave. But Christine was brave.
She smiled shyly as I gazed at her. "Do I look all right?"
I quickly fashioned a mirror from the air and showed her. That was the happiest I had ever seen her.
Suddenly I did hope Bernard was somewhere watching.
I then took the horse, the sturdy thing she had stolen, and wondered just what I could do with him.
Christine insisted on simply washing and brushing him. It turned out that was all he needed to prove himself a very handsome horse. Though I did create a saddle for him. Something noble and expensive looking.
And then we were off. Through the woods, through the fields, through the city, to the glowing palace.
"Remember," I whispered to Christine. "Tell no one who you are." I doubted her stepfamily would recognize her.
She nodded.
It didn't matter. The most important one already knew who she was.
A servant took the horse, and led Christine into the palace.
