Cinderella - A Retelling with Strength and Courage

Chapter Three

It seemed as if a whirlwind had invaded the household. Seven straight days of primping. Of preening. Of trying out every item of jewelry available from any store within reach. Seamstresses came and went, each more frazzled than the next. Ella ran ragged keeping up with orders shouted more quickly than she could follow.

Only one thought sustained her.

The gardens, after all these years, were finally within her reach.

And she had a plan.

She carefully studied the efforts of each seamstress who came in to work on her two stepsisters. The stepsisters immediately put Ella to work holding the pins or adjusting the cloth. But what the stepsisters saw as mindless tedium, Ella absorbed as free training on how to design the perfect dress. Every detail of tuck and nip, of fold and layer, was memorized with precise attention.

And now the day had finally arrived.

Ella had to admit that her stepsisters looked stunning. Birgit wore an elegant gown of shimmering blue, with lace along her neckline. Petra's outfit was the deepest green. Both women held matching fans created from delicate bird feathers.

Ella's stepmother came forward with a proud smile. "I knew you two could do it. All these years of effort have finally paid off. Now I don't care which of you wrangles his attention tonight, but this is your one and only chance. Whatever it takes – however it comes about – one of you must be his by the end of the evening. Do I make myself clear?"

Two heads nodded. Two pairs of eyes gleamed with bright intent.

Ella's father pressed open the front door. "Here comes the coach." He turned to look back at Ella. "Make sure you are up and waiting for us when we return, no matter how late it is. The girls will need help undressing – I'm sure they will be exhausted."

Ella dropped her gaze in dutiful submission. "Of course, Father."

He gave a half-hearted wave in her direction, and then the family whisked through the opening. They stepped up into the elegant black coach. And then it was easing through the snow off into the late afternoon glow.

Ella waited at the door until they were down the lane and disappearing in the far distance.

She closed the door, her heart pounding with nervous excitement.

In a flash, she had the main dining table cleared. The crimson tablecloth, freshly laundered and ironed, was laid out along it. Ella had sketched her dress in the snow of the back yard so many times that it was now second nature. She took up a burnt twig from the fireplace and carefully drew the lines. And then she began cutting.

There was no turning back now.

As soon as the pieces were set, she sat down to do the needlework. Her fingers flew along the stitches. Where her sisters had demanded flowers and ivy, whirls and embellishments, Ella's focus was simply on creating a dress which fit her well. After all, the outfit had precious few criteria to meet. It would need to be sturdy enough to survive the long, chilly trek down to the castle. It had to be reasonably presentable, so that the palace guards allowed her through those main gates. And, finally, it would need to keep her warm while she spent her time in the castle's private gardens.

And when she returned?

She would need to disassemble the dress and re-sew the pieces back together to form the original rectangle. Iron it perfectly flat. Yes, there would be seams, but with the dark crimson color they would not stand out strongly. If they were noticed, Ella would explain that the cloth had been damaged and she had repaired it the best she could. If she were punished, so be it.