"Oh, woe is me," lamented poor, sweet Cinderlady, as she exhaustedly heaved her pen across the paper before her. Every fibre of her being ached as she hunched over the large wooden desk, forced to endure terrible and degrading household chores, like actually completing her paperwork and reviewing the company budget to keep the lights on.

All the while, her wicked stepfather, Morrison, loomed in the shadows, commanding her obedience with such cruel utterances as, "Why don't we go back through the January accounts together?" and lashing her with barbed phrases like, "I'm not entirely sure the expenses report you submitted matches the receipts. Let's review it again." So heartless was Morrison with his evil overtime (paid, but only at 1.5x salary), that Cinderlady longed for the chance to meet her handsome prince and escape her life of oppression.

There had been whispers of a grand ball that evening; one which hundreds of guests would be attending. Each of them would be vying for the attention of the charming Prince Vergil, trying to impress him with their detailed choreography and bright displays of athleticism. Oh, how she longed to join them, to show the prince that she too could match his pace, and to prove her superiority over all the others. Surely, if she could only present herself before him, then he would notice her, and offer her the lavish lifestyle that she knew she so rightly deserved. Alas, with the wicked Morrison watching over her, Cinderlady knew it was not to be.

"I'll check in around midnight," Morrison threatened menacingly, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. He set down a bottle of water on the desk, then sneered at her and turned to leave. Oh, how awful he was, giving Cinderlady nothing but water, when he himself would often drink rich coffees and teas!

As soon as the door closed, Cinderlady threw herself upon the desk, raising a limp hand to her pale forehead. "Oh, won't someone please hear my plea?" she begged to the dusty ceiling above. If only something, or someone, would appear to free her from her imposed duties, she could finally experience what it meant to truly live, even if just for a moment.

Just then, there was a thunderous bang as the heavy wooden doors swung open once more. A fierce gale blew in, scattering Cinderlady's hard work around the room, and for a moment, she feared it was yet another cruel ploy from wicked Morrison to give her more chores to complete. Cinderlady straightened up at once, not wishing to receive further admonishment for her poor posture, and braced herself for another scolding.

But lo, it did not come, and after a brief pause, Cinderlady opened her eyes to see a mysterious figure clad in red before her, a crimson cloak billowing behind them. Cinderlady watched in awe as the garment flew from the figure's shoulders and rested upon the filthy sofa that had served as poor Cinderlady's bed for as long as she could remember.

"It truly is a miracle!" Cinderlady cried, clasping her hands to her chest. "My prayers have at last been answered – My own Fair-Enough Godmother!"

The Godmother's mouth was graciously filled with some sort of mystical pie, and they mumbled a cry of what Cinderlady knew could only be assent as she frantically gathered the papers and hastily pushed them into the Godmother's arms.

"Oh, thank you, magical Godmother!" Cinderlady exclaimed happily. "Now I truly can have a ball!"

As the Fair-Enough Godmother began dumping things on the desk, apparently already eager to ease Cinderlady's workload, the latter nodded in thanks and grabbed the Godmother's cloak from the sofa. "To think you would even provide me with a disguise, should wicked stepfather Morrison see me outside – you truly are so very kind!"

The Godmother's eyes widened, and Cinderlady realised there was something she had overlooked.

"You're right, I can't go out just like this!" Cinderlady agreed, looking around for something else she could use. Her eyes fell upon the mop that wicked Morrison had forced her to use earlier that day, and she quickly grabbed it, snapping its head free. "That which has caused me nothing but pain, now will serve to fuel my gain!" Cinderlady cried joyfully, before rushing outside.

The Fair-Enough Godmother followed behind her, waving both arms enthusiastically in a gesture of farewell as Cinderlady rode the Godmother's 1200cc carriage into the night.


The autumn air nipped at Cinderlady's skin as she dismounted the ride so kindly provided for her. She clutched her mystical disguise close to her chest, then slipped her arms inside the oversized sleeves and covered her hair with the magically repurposed mophead. Admiring herself in the carriage's side mirrors, it was clear that the glamour of the Fair-Enough Godmother was in full effect – Cinderlady looked just like the Godmother themselves! She sighed as she turned away. "Oh, if only I didn't have to return by midnight," she mused, but she knew that her generous Godmother had already done so much for her, and she dared not ask for more.

The grand event was in full swing as Cinderlady approached. Excitable laughter echoed through the air, and she could see the guests intermingling as she drew nearer, their limbs flying about as they darted between one another. As she'd anticipated, they were all trying to surround Prince Vergil, who stood at the centre of the gathering with a determined expression on his handsome face. Despite the throngs of visitors, he stood alone, deftly deflecting any unwanted advances until he could find someone who would satisfy his desires.

Cinderlady entered the fray, spreading her arms as she cleared a path through the other guests. She knew she could not head for the fair prince directly, especially as she had not been invited. It would be a shame to be forcefully removed after making such efforts to attend. Instead, she skirted around him, carefully tangling and untangling herself with the others, until at last Prince Vergil's eyes met hers, and they shared a silent acknowledgement. Closer and closer they grew as the night wore on, each too afraid to make the final step towards the other for fear of judgement. She from the prince himself, who surely was displeased with her forcing her way into his exclusive event, and he – Cinderlady presumed – wary of the Fair-Enough Godmother's enchanted powers and the complications that might arise from engaging with them. And so, they continued to dance around each other, each gauging the other's performance – sometimes with admiration, but often with disdain – until Cinderlady could bear it no longer.

By now, the party guests had lessened, perhaps due to the late hour, or perhaps due to the constant rejection from both Cinderlady and the prince. It mattered not to Cinderlady which it was. All that mattered to her now was revealing herself to the fair Prince Vergil in all her glory, before it was too late. Even if she had to return home, if she could just leave him with something to remember her by, a way to find her once this was all over…

Somewhere in the distance, a harsh beeping began to fill the air. Cinderlady looked down at the clock upon her wrist and saw that the hands were nearing midnight. She looked ahead longingly. Prince Vergil, now so close, yet so far, turned and looked back. How easy it would be to ignore the warning, to push onwards and… No! She couldn't! With one last tearful glance over her shoulder, Cinderlady ran back to her carriage and mounted it with speed, quickly starting towards her destination. Even as she sped through the night, she could feel the effects of the magic wearing off, and soon her own hair was whipping against her forehead. She prayed that the Fair-Enough Godmother's goodwill would be enough to keep her from regretting not bringing a helmet.

At least, just as the taunting alarm began to sound once more, Cinderlady crashed through the doors of the prison she was forced to call home, and hurried over to the torturous desk. The Fair-Enough Godmother was nowhere to be seen, and as Cinderlady hastily threw the remnants of her disguise onto the floor, she wondered whether she might have imagined the whole thing. She was still catching her breath when her wicked stepfather Morrison appeared in the doorway.

Immediately, the wicked Morrison stormed into the room with a tray of cakes and tea (surely poisoned!) and said something about her breaking – or at least a phrase that sounded similar, for Cinderlady was too distracted trying to kick the cloak beneath her chair. She felt a great fear at what might happen should the wicked Morrison discover the help granted to her by the Fair-Enough Godmother, and was about to say something in her defence, when who should appear but the Godmother themselves! Feigning ignorance, Cinderlady watched on in horror as the two engaged in a grapple of sorts, each gripping the other's hand tightly and attempting to shake it off. Alas! thought poor Cinderlady. Whatever was she to do in this situation? For surely, no matter whom she helped, she would receive a punishment of some sort?

Just then, the doors opened once more, and there stood the fair Prince Vergil! Somehow, it seemed that her prince had found her after all!

Cinderlady sank back into her chair and held her hands to her face, unsure of what to say or do. At the event, she had been a formidable companion, but here she was naught more than a mere admin assistant. Surely someone of such high status as Prince Vergil would have no interest in one so replaceable as she? She watched in despair as Prince Vergil approached the Fair-Enough Godmother and offered a bow, along with a curt thank you for their assistance. It was just as Cinderlady had feared – her disguise had been too good!

Suppressing her tears, Cinderlady lay her head down on the desk, no longer caring about whatever consequences such an action might bring. It was only when she heard the hollow thump of plastic on wood that she dared to look up. A very small bottle of shampoo was resting beside her hand. She turned just in time to see Prince Vergil disappearing into the shadows, shaking his head as he went. In his fingertips he held the now unenchanted mophead, which he tossed into a nearby bucket with a majestic flick of his wrist.

Cinderlady grabbed the gift and tucked it away inside her shirt before it could be taken from her. Her handsome prince had given her a token of his everlasting affection! Could it be that she had been recognised after all?! Cinderlady sat back in the chair, and smiled. Perhaps there really was still hope!

~ THE END ~