The Dance That Started It All

Chapter 4: But You Can't Be

The next morning, I had woken up earlier than usual in a fog of hazy memories and unprocessed emotion. It was a lonely sort of isolation, like a womb of memories long passed. It was disorienting; like a line was blurred between reality and fiction. It was a form of romance I was not accustomed to.
Free time was a rare commodity for me, so I decided to slip out of the house for lack of anything else to do. The halls resounded with silence in an almost sleep-like state, yet to be touched by the sun's rays. My slow creeping shadow painted the cream-colored walls as I walked, soft echoes following. Truth be told, I had little of a clue as to where I was going. I don't think I wanted to think about it either. My head was too heavy to think. Heavy with thoughts of yesterday and heavy of imagery woven of the past.
The air stung, and small pinpricks of white fell onto exposed shoulders. So this was first snow? I turned my face to the sky, gray and foreboding. It was oddly serene, perhaps out of some twisted fairy tale. The heavy wrought iron gate watched over me- imported from some castle or another in Iceland. Of the wiry shrubs, the flowers have fallen away during crisp autumn leaving behind only thorns. My hands trailed to my arms...
Perhaps I was a stupid girl, but I stayed there- not with a coat or anything- and watched the snow fall. The thin layer of powdery slosh melted beneath me as I sat crossed-legged on the doorsteps. It was both beautiful and horrid. I don't know how long I was there, but apparently long enough for dawn to break out through the translucent off-white clouds. I wondered how many children were pulling back their curtains, elated right now.
"Miss!" I looked past the gate to see a blue-uniformed man waving a stack of envelopes, impatiently. I shook the snow off of my shoulders and brought myself to a stand.
"Are you mad? You're going to get ill sitting outside like this!" The wiry man hollered from behind a voluminous mustache.
"No, I was just watching the sunrise- real interesting stuff you see..." My voice trailed off, as I tried to hide the fact that my finger tips glowed with a blue tint.
Now, usually I didn't handle the mail, Helga had deemed it too personal a job for the handmaid to deal with. However, personally I always thought it was to keep me as hidden as possible, concealed in a concrete cellar for the world to never witness. I also couldn't tell you what propelled me to do this on this particular day, either- what had guided me into the snow. However, I'd like to think that it was some mystical being that had taken sympathy on me, but I couldn't be sure. It could of very well been the incidents of last night that had possessed me with an uneasy restlessness.
It was weird, having never held an envelope, smooth but firm with untold stories. I started shuffling through them, reading where they were sent from and whom to, until I stumbled across one particular post.
Maria __
100 East 53rd Street
New York City, New York
The woman had my mother's maiden name? It wasn't that common either- not a Jones or a Smith where they were a dime a dozen. I pocketed the letter and dropped the rest in the mailbox, as where they would have been put had I not been there. Admittedly, my first instinct was to tear the letter open be it by hand or by teeth.
My body shook as I stepped inside, feeling no warmth as I did. The carefully concealed letter was tucked into my apron pocket just in case I was to run into anyone on my way back. At this time now it was highly likely.
"What were you doing out there this early?" A discontented Elsa greeted me, hair carefully plaited and pinned.
"I didn't sleep terribly well." Even though I knew it was impossible, I felt like she knew about everything: the shenanigans at the market, Anna and I's secret rendezvous, and above everything the letter that seemed to burn a hole in my abdomen where it rested against. She had a frightfully sharp gaze and an equally sharp tongue.
"You've been acting strange lately, suspicious even." Oh, and I had nearly forgot about her sharp perception.
"Then tell me what you think I'm doing so wrong? After all I'm only scullery maid." Despite the objective coldness engulfing me, the letter filled me with a fiery, ever-blazing wildfire of courage.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," She cocked an eyebrow, "but do believe me, I'll break you if I have to in order to find out."
"Well it's a good thing you don't have to," I retorted indignantly, "because I'm not- in fact I think there may be a bit of projection on your half if I may say so."
She closed the distance with long powerful strides, shoulders hunched and hooded eyes focusing on something beyond me, and then I couldn't breathe. Dainty hands wrapped around my neck with an inhuman strength they weren't supposed to possess. A low gurgle cane from my throat and her nails stung the hallows of my neck.
"Get...off of me...you rotten floozy..." I writhed stupidly against her, something I knew I shouldn't have done but did anyways. It only hurt me more, as her nails were dragged forcefully across my leaping pulse under my attempts to be let go. I grabbed her wrists, trying to pry her fingertips off of me. My head began to burn hotly, and my movements became less articulated. I did the only thing I could think of in that state of complete panic: I pulled my fist back and punched.
And just like that, air began to fill my lungs once more.
"What," I panted harshly, "in god's name was that?"
Elsa clutched her abdomen and half of me had the urge to apologize, but the other half of me knew better. I continued on schedule, and to say the least- things were a bit tense for breakfast. But I tried my best to ignore the sinking feeling that festered in me. It was a newfound paranoia that she would decide to play detective in every aspect of my life, especially considering the silence after this morning.
However, if Anna detected a shift in atmosphere, she sure as hell didn't show it. In fact, she was warmer to me than I've ever recalled her being.
"Oh, __, I've got some wonderful news!"
I was cleaning up after tea when she brought it up. Helga had invited our neighbor, Mrs. White over to gossip and brag about their own lives in the one percent. Let me tell you, it was probably one of the most dull, insipid things I've ever had to stand witness to.
I hummed halfheartedly in acknowledgment, expecting her to tell me about a party, a boy, or a boy she met at a party.
"Guess who mother invited to dinner? Guess!"
"Mmmm?"
"She invited the Overland family for supper!"
My heart stopped and I dropped the plate I was holding back into the gray dishwater. Memories of the swing dance we shared played in my mind and I struggled to stay calm.
"You don't say? Must really like the boy, huh?
"Oh, I couldn't imagine what I'd do if he saw another girl! I'd probably tear her apart myself!"
I chuckled nervously, a high-pitched thing that teetered on the edge of hyperventilating.
"You're funny, you know that?" I grimaced, scrubbing a plate so hard I thought it may shatter.
"You'll understand one day! You just have to meet the right man!"
"I believe I'm perfectly capable without one" sighed, thankful that the conversation at least gave a hint of changing.
"Oh sure, but it's no fun!"
"I suppose so... anyways," I said, wiping my hands on a dish towel, "I have to start getting dinner ready. You should probably get ready- knock 'em dead and all that."
"By god you're right! If you'll excuse me I have to go." Anna barreled through the house, nearly tripping over her skirt as she clamored up the stairs. But even though she was no longer there, I still felt uneasy and for the first time in nearly a decade I prayed. I prayed that Jack would choose to ignore me or, hell, not even show up at all. But, it was winter, and in the snow held the worst luck for me.
I was proven right in my uneasiness at seven that evening. First came Mr. and Ms. Overland and about fifteen minutes later came Jack in a stunningly gaudy automobile. Figures, the most wealthy, sought-after bachelor would have the most expensive, hard to get car.
"Oh Jack!" Anna crooned softly as he kissed her hand.
Elsa scoffed at this, though I could see the way she stiffened when his lips touched her sister's outstretched hand.
God, what a little cad. He made eye contact with me and his lips stretched upwards in a sly smile. My lips curled in disgust.
"Oh Jack and his toys- he's just like his father." Ms. Overland chuckled, shrugging off a minx coat for Mr. Overland to take off. Helga chuckled in that haute way that the aristocrats did- where it sounded more of a slight exhale of breath than an expression of humor.
I wasn't sure if she was referring to the car or to the slew of girls wrapped around his finger, but either way I already had a repugnant dislike for this broad.
"Dinner's served." I cleared my throat- cutting off any other crude jokes before they could be made.
The table was set to the tune of roast chickens cooked with exotic spices and sugared ham that glittered under the candlelight, paired with wild rice and baked potatoes. A dinner I wouldn't get to enjoy with people I didn't entertain the thought of enjoying.
I listened to the conversations had and I could feel my disdain grow by the moment.
"She ought to know-"
"- is one of the last ones-"
"one of those lost princess sorta thing."
But nonetheless, I preformed to the best of my abilities despite this (while catching myself spitting in their glasses while my back was turned to them)- or at least I was. That was until Jack happened.
"So, why isn't __ joining us?"
I choked right there and then, producing a sound of a rubber duck being stepped upon. I wasn't the only one.
"Oh!" My father chuckled nervously, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief. "She's nothing but a maid- mother was a prostitute. Such a sad story. I told her I'd find a use for the girl! So any-"
A sharp clang echoed in the dining hall, followed by shattering glass. I had dropped the tray I was holding, and by extent the next round of drinks.
"My mother- your wife was not a prostitute!" I cried hotly. "And you should be ashamed of yourself! You will not talk about mother in such a manner as long as I- __ __ am here!"
A collective gasp ricocheted like bullets in the stagnant air.
"You couldn't possibly be a __! The entire family died in a horrific accident!"
"Oh but look at her! I knew I've seen her somewhere before-looks just like the heiress!"
"What in the good lord's name are you talking about? Brother isn't dead, he's being tr- Oh never mind that! Will someone explain-" I tried to intervene, only to be interrupted by Helga.
"Oh don't mind her," She fanned herself, "the girl's just stupid, wanting to play the poor man's Cinderella."
"I mean," Jack cut in abruptly, "they could never proved she died- that and there's been rumors she's been spotted in this area- the heiress."
And I suppose something inside of me broke, for I began walking and walking as I had this morning- with only the letter and the clothes on my bosom to my name. What else was there? Father had mother buried with most of her vital belongings. Red stained my vision as I walked through the house and into the winter outside.
My face was wet; it was either ice or tears but I neither knew or cared. I had become so absolved in my indignation that I hadn't heard footsteps behind me.
"Hey..." A deep male voice spoke from behind me. I pivoted turning to address Jack.
"What in god's name could you possibly want with me?" I snarled.
"...are you crying?"
"I don't see why it matters." I crossed my arms over my chest, "Besides, why don't you go back and play with your dolls?"
"__"
"What? Have you not done enough damage tonight?"
"I know, I know- tell me is there anything I could do to make it up? Just- I don't feel right leaving you here like this..."
Something about the way he stuttered out those words and ran his hands through his platinum hair... Could it possibly be sincerity? I doubted he had the malice to willfully deceive me, or at least be convincing about it. I could feel the letter in my smock pocket- it was quite a hike from the fanciful West Virginia, but he did owe me.
"Yeah, can you take me somewhere?" I asked Jack.
"Of course snowflake, you name it." He gave out a breathy chuckle, the clouds of his breath swirling around him as he did so. His cheeks were pink in comparison to the bleak whiteness around us that matched his own skin tone and wispy strands of hair. I could see why Anna thought he was cute- he looked so youthful like this.
"New York City, take me there."