Cinderella

Like Mother

For four long years, Mariette fought off every suitor Griselda threw her way. She ached for the company of her friends, but was never allowed to leave the grounds, for Griselda feared that she would run away. Charlotte was fired a year after Antonie Merle retracted his hasty proposal, along with a cook that had worked there since before Mariette was born, and a garden hand with six children and no other source of employment. They were not even given letters of recommendation, nor other stations.

Then, on a warm June day, when the rich were lying outside with tall glasses of water and lemonade, and the poor were sweating through their thin shirts as they worked, an announcement was made. The prince was throwing a masquerade ball, and better yet a masquerade ball in which he hoped to find a bride. The kingdom had not better news since the ending of The Great Drought (which lasted nearly a year, and killed every beggar in the kingdom, along with many of the poor, though the rich were unaffected).

Lenora was insatiably excited. "Oh, Mother!" she gushed to Griselda as Mariette swept the patio. "We must go to the city tonight! I need a new gown! And not just any new gown, either. This must be the most beautiful, breath-taking, wonderful gown in the whole world!"

"Of course, dear," Griselda said, fanning herself. "And we shall need to buy one for Margaret as well, though Lord help the prince who chooses her as his bride."

Mariette, who had overheard the conversation, piped in. "Why anyone should like to marry the prince is a mystery to me. He is probably vain and vile, and who would like to run a kingdom, anyway? That is my idea of Hell."

"Nobody asked you!" Lenora snapped, flipping her stringy blonde hair over her shoulder. "Why anyone should like to marry you is a mystery tome! You should have accepted those suitors Mother brought for you; you won't get another offer, covered in soot as you are."

"And you won't get another offer, covered in snoot as you are. Honesty, Lenora, you'd think you'd grow some manners, given that you're trying to charm a prince."

"Mariette!" Griselda hissed. "Do not dare insult my dear Lenora. And she's right, you know; you'll never receive an offer of marriage as you are. You're nineteen now, after all, and long past due for marriage."

Mariette snorted. "Lenora is twenty."

"Jealousy is not becoming," Lenora said sweetly.

"Neither is being spoiled."

"To your chores, now!" Griselda spewed. "And you will not be going to that ball!"

At exactly nine o' clock, after the girls had stepped into their carriage in their new gowns and the servants had retired for the night, someone knocked on the door.

"I suppose I'll answer it," Simon, an old butler, said, gingerly lifting himself from his blanket on the floor.

"No, no," Mariette said hurriedly, ushering him back down. "You are tired. I'll answer it." She rushed to the door, believing it to be one of the girls who had perhaps forgotten their gloves or lost a hair ribbon, but it was not. Instead, smiling at her from the threshold was Mistress Auréle.

"Auntie!" Mariette squealed, throwing herself at her. "Oh, Auntie!"

Mistress tugged away, but held Mariette by the shoulders. "My, my," she murmured. "You are even more beautiful than the last that I saw you. You're all grown up-you're, what, nineteen years now? I've missed so much!"

"Oh, Auntie," Mariette said as tears began to drip down her pale cheeks. "Griselda is horrid. Even worse than when Father was here. I miss you so much, Auntie. She won't even let me visit Winslow and Perri and Leo!"

"Hush, child," Auntie murmured, ushering her inside. "Come, to the powder room. You, my dear, are going to a ball."

"Oh," Mariette murmured. "Auntie, that is very kind, but...I do not truly wish to go. I don't think I'd marry that prince if he was the last man on Earth."

"Hush," Auntie commanded, pulling her coat off of her thin shoulders and placing it on the stand. "You are not going to the ball to meet the prince. Ulric has told me that Winslow will be there, and I assume Leo and Perri will as well."

"Auntie! Do you mean it?"

Mistress Auréle's mouth turned up in a warm smile. "Of course, dear. I never say things I don't mean."

The gown was breathtaking. It was made of white silk and gossamer and satin. It was what Mariette would have once referred to as a "grown-up" dress, and her now ample breasts were pushed above the tight neckline in an almost indecent way. A tight silk band of purple encircled her waist. The top piece was embellished with jewels and the very bottom lining was likewise. The skirt that billowed out and twirled beautifully was ever so delicate, and Mariette was careful not to tear it as she did a testing twirl.

"Enough of that," Auntie said as she brushed through Mariette's hair. "Do you like the gown?"

"Like it! I love it, Auntie! Wherever did you find such a thing?!" Mariette smoothed a hand over the thick skirt as Auntie piled the top half of her hair onto her head, holding it with a thick jewel encrusted hair piece. Mariette felt one of her dark curls brush her cheek.

Auntie set the brush down and fluffed Mariette's hair. "It was your mothers wedding gown. And she styled her hair just like this, though she had a veil. And she wore just the lightest amount of lilac perfume," Auntie applied the perfume, and began to sniffle, "and now you look exactly like her."

Mariette turned to face her Auntie, who was now near tears. "Do you really think so, Auntie? That I look like Mother?"

Auntie smiled through her blurring eyes. "Absolutely. But you're missing something."

"I am?" Mariette glanced down once again at herself. Her shoes were in place, as were her elbow-length white satin gloves.

"Two things," Auntie confirmed, reaching into the satchel behind her. From it she pulled a necklace, which she placed around Mariette's neck. The chain was not long, and it rested just in the hollow of her throat. Mariette could not see it, but she felt the cool weight of jewel. "It was also your mother's," Auntie murmured.

Mariette ran a hand over it. It felt smooth and supple, like the necklaces she wore when she was young. "And the other thing?"

Again, Auntie reached into the satchel, this time pulling from it a smooth white mask. She placed it carefully over Mariette's face. "Now, you are ready."

Auntie led Mariette by arm down the stairs, and then outside, where a chariot awaited. Simon the butler was holding the reins and he winked into Mariette's surprised face.

"Thought it was about time I paid you back for all those chores you did for me," he said cheerily, freshly dressed in charioteer's garb.

"Oh, Simon, thank you! And, Auntie! You aren't going to leave, are you?"

Auntie placed a gentle hand on Mariette's shoulder. "I'm afraid I must. But there is one thing you must know before you leave: You must be back by midnight. There is a maid in town, her name is Adeline, and she will be here then. She is good friends with Lady de Casé and has promised to tell her of your absence if needed. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Auntie, but how do you know that?" Mariette asked.

Auntie smiled. "Adeline and I shared a drink or two last night. She's a lightweight, that one, she truly is. She told me that she knew the Lady de Casé when she was very young, and that she had always hated her but had been afraid to tell her."

"I cannot imagine someone who did not dislike Griselda," Mariette said.

"Well, I'm sure there have been a few. Like your father, for instance. Now, off you go," Auntie commanded, pushing her at the carriage.

"Thank you, Auntie," Mariette murmured, and ran toward it.