Of Love That Crossed The Worlds

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Her birds, her little friends who often helped her with her chores, now sat around her on the ground, perfectly still, only their little heads revolving to the side as if they were waiting for her to talk.

"I'm sorry. I'm sad..." she apologized, finally wiping her tears away.

When they all nodded in unison, as if they were waiting for her to explain, she added, "I wish I could go to the ball with them."

One of the birds chirped loudly and took flight then, and a few others followed him. Soon, they were back, carrying the most beautiful gown Cinderella had ever seen. The uncountable layers of the gossamer fabric it was made of looked like the mist rising from the meadows and fields just after sunrise, tainted by the first hues of a new day. And there were shoes, and a short veil too...

"Is it for me?" the stunned girl asked, and as the birds chirped again, their tiny wings pointing towards the hole in the tree's trunk, urging her to go in and get changed, she did not hesitate.

"Thank you!" she told them once she was ready, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of the tall, white horse they had led here for her from her father's stables.

Then she was off, riding as fast as the wind towards the distant castle.

The following day she had to cover her radiant smile every time someone in the house, maids, her stepsisters or her stepmother, mentioned the beautiful, mysterious stranger their prince danced with the whole evening, before she disappeared at the stroke of midnight.

It didn't take long for Heathcliff to realise that it was not Cathy whom he really loved once he took his distance from Wuthering Heights.

Cinderella was the one to whom his thoughts kept returning. He wished to go back to tell her how he felt, but he couldn't. His pride would not permit him if she accepted him, of course, to take her away from that rich house she lived in and make her a beggar's wife.

But now, three years later, he finally had enough money to offer her if not rich, then at least a comfortable life. His feelings for the girl grew over the time, strengthened with their separation, and today, as he started on his way back, he hoped... he hoped that she at least would not laugh at him when he proposed to her. He had been such a fool before...

On the night of the second ball, Cinderella was given a new dress-- yellow and golden like a summer day at noon.

The horse was ready for her when she walked out of the tree and she reached the castle in no time.

"So we meet again, my beautiful lady." The prince stood in front of her the moment she entered the vast hall filled with wonderful music and richly dressed dancing couples, as if he had been waiting for her by the door.

She curtsied, smiling at him shily through her veil, allowing him to lead her to the middle of the dance floor.

Her feet hurt as she went around her chores the following day, but she was happy... nearly like she had been in the times when she used to meet with Heathcliff. Her heart ached at the thought of him, making her realise that she would never feel exactly like she used to feel in his presence with anyone else. She shrugged the thought off, convinced that he must have forgotten her a long time ago.

The week flew by in expectations, and worries about the last ball. When the evening finally arrived, Cinderella was considering not to go. This was the night when the prince was supposed to choose his bride and she was anxious... she didn't want to... she knew that if he asked her...

No. She didn't know what she would do if...

Cinderella liked him. The prince was a charming young man, but... Would this feeling she held for him, which was not all that her heart was capable of, as she well knew, suffice to keep them both happy, forever?