The Tale Of Cinderella

BY : Fall Plum
Category: Musicals/Plays > Cinderella (Rodgers & Hammerstein) > Cinderella (Rodgers & Hammerstein)
Dragon prints: 10738
Disclaimer: I do not own the musical Cinderella. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

The Night of the Ball

“Okay. You can turn around now.”

“Oh! Eli, you look gorgeous!” Marianne fluttered around me smoothing fabric here, checking hair there. I chewed my lip anxiously. The dress was beautiful, a scandalous blood red, made of silk, with the customary wide, swishy skirt and tiny as it gets waist. I’d wanted it simple, no lace or beads, and it was that, but hardly plain. Unlike most dresses of the year, this one was relatively modest when it came to the neckline, it was a V-neck, cutting between my breasts and not showing so much as hinting heavily at what was under it. The back was cut in an even larger V, covering much less, with the top ends of the “V” at the top of my shoulders, with the bottom of the V ending almost at my butt, just barely hiding my actual butt. So most of my back, and some my butt almost was showing, unhidden by my hair, which was braided and twisted and wrapped into this creation which framed my face but left my neck bare. Well, actually, a bit of it was left down at the end, it was braided and it fell just past my shoulders, so I could pull it over in front of my shoulder, like you do a side ponytail, like a little tail. Oh and my customary thin braid of hair at my left temple was there too. My face was all lips and eyes, with my lips painted the same color as the dress and my eyes heavily outlined.

“Okay, so now you go get done” I happily pushed her toward Isabella, our maid since we were born. She was married to Charles, who took care of our horses. She was my mother’s age, and had been her maid before she ran off with our father. Actually, she had helped her runaway, much to her chagrin, and had gone with her. When we were so poor we couldn’t pay her, she and Charles had refused to leave. Now times were better, and my mother pays them so much they must have a trust fund by now, but they still refuse to leave. They’ve always been there and they’re pretty much family.

Actually, sometimes she’s even more of a mother to me then my own. Mother loves Marianne and I, and we’ve always – usually – known it. But sometimes – okay, most of the time - she was harsh and almost cruel. I can’t remember her ever hugging me. Isabella was kind and nurturing, and we turned to her for emotional help.

Isabella bestowed a proud-of-her-handiwork smile at me and ushered Marianne over to the closet. As we agreed, I turned away for until she was done.

Two chapters of my book later
“Okay you can look now” Marianne said nervously.

I turned around. “Oh Mari, you’re stunning!” I squealed. She really was. She was wearing a dress the exact same color of her eyes, a shinning emerald creation of silk and lace at the neck and wrists. It was romantically cut, with the usual skirt and even tinier then usual waist. The sleeves were loose and swishy, the neckline square and low. The back was high in return. Her hair was mostly pulled back from her face, but left down to hang down her back. Her eyes were also showcased, the green almost impossibly bright. Her mouth was painted a sweet pink.

She smiled, “Let’s go see Mother”

We were tripping down the stairs when we passed Portia. “Oh, Marianne. Elizabeth. You’re going to the party. Have a nice time”

“You’re not going?”, Marianne asked.

“Oh well, I’m already engaged, right, so…”

“You should still go, everyone’s going, engaged, married, or not” I sighed inwardly, “C’mon, Isabella can fix you up and then we can all go show Mother.”

“Oh, I don’t know –”

“You wouldn’t want to insult the royal family would you? Come on,” I pulled her back upstairs.

“Izzy,” Portia winced at the familiarity, “You have one more makeover” Izzy smiled and led Portia over to the closet. “I have the perfect dress for you dear”

While they were back there Marianne asked to talk to me.
“Eli, I was thinking of not going to the ball”
“Not going! Wha –”
“Relax, I am going to go, cause it will be fun and all, but I was thinking of not going because… Well, I don’t think I’m ever going meet a man and fall in love and get married…”

“What do you mean? Of course you’re gonna”

“It’s just that, I’ve never felt anything before”

“Well yeah, you haven’t met him yet then”

“No I mean – like – How do you feel about Jack?”

“I love him. And like I could fuck him to pieces and lick up those pieces” I smiled like a cat.

“And when you saw the adorable new guy a few months ago, what did you think?”

“Hunky baby, mostly”

“You see, just because you’ve found the right guy, that doesn’t mean you’re totally turned off to other guys! But I haven’t even found my right guy, and I’m already turned off! Maybe I’m just not meant to fall in love…” She ended with tears streaking down her face, and I threw an arm over her shoulders.

“That’s ridiculous! We’re different, and you’ll meet your guy and then everything will turn on like fireworks! I’m absolutely sure of it, you wait, honey.”

“You really think” She asked tearfully.

“I really think”

“Okay” She hugged me. “Thanks El”

“Anytime. Now go over and fix your eyes. I’d help but –“

She giggled, “Yeah, I know. You suck at it”

I smacked her arm. “And how’s that anyway to treat your emotional rescuer and hero!” I laughed. “I’m going to go get a quick bite to eat, I’m starving and they never serve enough at balls.”

She snorted, “A royal feast wouldn’t serve enough for you. People who meet you think we starve you; you eat so much, they figure you must not be eating at home or you’d look like a rhino.”

I pouted. “I have good metabolism.”

“Oh I don’t know, you’re appetite is matched only by your talk, so maybe you work it off through vocal exertion.”

“Hah. Very funny”

“I wasn’t kidding”

I shook my head, “I’m going”

She sighed, “You know, El, you are so lucky to have already met you guy” she said wistfully before turning to go to the makeup table.

I headed for the kitchen, my mind doing cartwheels. Was Jack my “the guy”? I never considered him to be, nor did I ever think that it was just a fling. It’s not. But what are we going to do about the contract? Really, no one short of the King could break it, and there are only three people against it; Jack, Portia and me. My opinion hardly affects, not to mention no one knows it anyway. Portia’s aren’t even known either. The only person who could try to sway the contract is… Jack.

Does Jack actually want to? I mean, I always believed him that he did, but really, Portia’s beautiful and obedient, she’d make a perfect wife, and I… I’d make a perfect mistress, the opposite of Portia physically as well as in personality. Why the hell should Jack break it off, anyway? It’s not like he loves me, I’ve just been satisfying his “needs” in a way his betrothed hasn’t. Oh my god, I am such a loser. And an idiot, an idiotic, stupid fool!

Suddenly I realized tears were dripping off my face. Angry tears, I told myself, and they were, but also just plain old tears of misery. I loved Jack. God, when did that happen?

I almost tripped, blinded by tears. I put a hand out and stumbled onto a small landing, collapsing in tears. I rested my head against the wall and sobbed my heart out.

I felt a cool hand stroke my back comfortingly, pulling me into arms.

“Mother” I whimpered.

“Yes, baby, “

“He doesn’t love me. He’s going to marry her and I’m such a foo-ol” My voice broke at the end.

“It’s alright, baby, it’s alright”

Finally I stopped crying. Mother handed me a handkerchief and asked quietly “Would you like to tell me about it?”

I shook my head after a moment.

“Let me just tell you something then. You,” she cupped my face, “can get any –“ she started again, “there are few men in the world you can’t get. Did you know that?”
I shrugged limply.

“Go to the ball. Dance with the prince. Don’t make my mistake” She rose and walked away.

I stared after her. Then I got up and went to fix my make up.

(The Ball's coming soon!)

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