Cinder stepped out of the house, full skirt almost catching it’s self on a loose nail in the doorway.
“Hazel Lyn?” a man asked. He stood in front of a gleaming silver carriage.
“Yes?” Cinder asked.
“My name is Gareth and I will be escorting you to the prince’s ball tonight,” he said.
Cinder smiled. She stepped into the carriage surprised by how small it was.
She gazed out the window as they ascended on the palace. As they got closer it got brighter. The light got thicker and more annoying. Not to mention shinier.
And then the palace loomed above her in all its white marble glory. Cinder swooned at the sight of it and was afraid she’d faint.
She exited the carriage.
“Thank you Gary,” she said to Gareth. He tipped his hat at her and drove off.
Cinder sighed, still thinking over the plan. Dance, exit by midnight, wash dress and then finish chores. Good. Great. Got it.
Yet she was still nervous. She looked down at her gloved hands, scarlet gown and a (more felt than seen) tight corset. She felt fake.
She started up the stairs, Lily’s satin shoes click-clacking all the way.
She entered the ballroom and almost tripped – again – on her skirt.
There were dancers in beautiful gowns and suites, a band playing beautiful pieces and in the center of it all, him, the prince, the boy who’d helped her out of the snow almost a week ago.
Cinder smiled.
She spotted Ella, Wendy and Lily next, being that they were the only ones other than her in ruby. They looked so atrocious from above she could only imagine how she looked from below. Like a giant strawberry, no doubt.
She slowly descended down the left side of the elegant staircase. She longed to take off her glove and run her fingers over the glossy finish of the railing, not unlike what she used on the banisters at home.
She reached her first problem at the bottom of the staircase. Her stepmother and sisters were at the bottom of it, not twelve yards away.
What if they recognized the dress? The gloves? What if they recognized her?
Cinder swallowed loudly. She would be fine. “Just walk forward and they won’t give you any trouble,” she murmured to herself.
She did as she was told and walked.
The night was uneventful, yet magical. The people, the food, the music, it was beautiful. She’d only danced with one man, a guard on break. He’d been handsome, yet nothing compared to the prince she kept catching glimpses of.
Every time she tried to get close she was pushed away by single girls and vise versa when he’d noticed her.
She glanced up at the clock that read eleven forty-nine and she made her way to the staircase.
Her carriage was waiting, but so was the second ball.
YOU ARE READING
Cinder Maid
FantasyWritten way back in like 2015 when I was in 6th grade, this story won two writing contests in Illinois. It's nothing special, but it means a lot to me because it proved that people enjoyed reading my work. It's a simple retelling of Cinderella and I...
