Eliana hesitated at the stairs that descended into the ballroom. A sudden anxiety washed over her as the herald turned to greet her. At her side was her coachman, and she glanced at him, hoping his nature wasn't obvious. An hour ago he'd been a rat in the garden, and now he was a lanky man, well dressed in a tailored suit, his small eyes hidden behind the bushiest mustache she'd ever seen. He'd guided her up the steps to be announced, but now the absurdity of her situation had hit her.
She was not meant to be here. Her step-mother had made that very clear when she'd torn the handmade dress and tossed it into the fire, and the consequences for even wanting to be had been laid out with a sharp slap against her cheek. She was not meant to be anything more than Cinderwench, the cruel name her step-sisters Ilene and Florence mocked her with so often she wasn't sure they remembered her real name. She wasn't meant to run away and have grand adventures, no matter how hard she dreamed it, not if she couldn't take the last of her mother's things and the trinkets her father had brought her, not if it meant abandoning the only memories she had left of them. She wasn't meant to be gifted a fairy godmother, nor a grand coach, nor this gown, nor the slippers that laid delicately on her feet, that tinkled against the marble floor, that made her so terrified to put the slightest bit of pressure on, even if they'd already proven stronger than ever expected.
But her coachman brought her up to the top of the staircase, where the herald looked her over. He whispered something in the herald's ear, and he seemed to accept it, turning to the ballroom and announcing, "Lady Ella de Glasse," before ushering them along. She started down the steps before realizing her coachman was returning to the line of coaches outside. Well, no turning back now.
People were looking at her. Eliana's instincts were to shy away, hope their attention didn't call on her too long, but she realized those were not mocking expressions. Her ballgown was twice as wide as she was, the cerulean blue of it shimmering in the candlelight. The bodice was cut a little low, but it made room for her mother's necklace, the gold shining brighter than it ever had, and the sleeves swooped at the side, exposing her shoulders. The skirt raised above her ankles as she walked, and the glass shoes tapped across the floor. Her godmother had, at least, made a fashionable choice.
An hour ago she'd been crying in the garden, her face pressed against the tree that marked her mother's grave as if it could offer the same comfort. She'd gripped the fragments of her dress in her hands, the pale blush of pink the only remain she now had of it. It had been her mother's as well, that with the necklace and a few odd items the only thing she'd rescued from her step-mother's hand when she'd set upon removing all the old things from the house. Her face was covered in soot as she'd been forced to clean the hearth once her step-mother had finished her task. She had looked at Eliana in that dress in horror, as though she'd broken some sacred covenant, and torn it from her, tossing it into the fire.
Eliana had cried until nothing was left, and she looked back at the house as though it were her tomb. Was it worth it, to see everything she cared for taken from her? Was it worth it, just for the memory of her mother's touch? Was it worth it, when they were all so cruel?
Then Eliana had done a dangerous thing. Eliana made a wish.
A light had bloomed in the branches of her mother's tree. Eliana had backed away, watching the fairy lights wisp around, and then form together. A woman appeared within them, older, plump being the word that came to mind. She wore a gown of lilac purple and her grey hair had fallen in thick curls around her. Her feet did not quite touch the ground, and there was a twinkle in her grey eyes. She smiled at Eliana, holding out her arms.
"Hello, my child," she'd said.
Eliana knew of fairies. The Church of the Iron Nail was situated within the castle walls, and they preached on the dangers of fairies every time she went to market. Fairies had destroyed the kingdom of Erdelve, leaving it only thorns and great beasts that swallowed men whole, and they'd killed the entire royal family of some ancient kingdom, trapping their princess in a tower. They stole children and sent plagues, and the cruelty of their queen was unmatched.
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Princesses
FantasyOnce upon a time, in a far away land, there were six princesses. Six short stories featuring six different well known tales, a development for a larger story. Cover image borrowed from https://flic.kr/p/5ZpraD