Cinderella

Perfect

Perfect

They were welcomed back to the castle joyously. No such party had been held since the prince's own birth, and the king kissed the three "heroes" faces. He pardoned Cyrus immediately when he learned his place in Alex's rescue. The festivites were numerous. Among them was a small but beautiful wedding.

They were married in the castle garden, as requested by the prince, and Mariette wore her mother's wedding dress. Winslow awaited her at the end of the path in a suit cut by Ulric. Leo and Perri attended--as did Victor and Cyrus, who were happy to sit amongst the gypsies (Nathan and Melina sat together, and Winslow was pleased to find a ring on her left hand). The flowers were in beautiful bloom that day, as if they had been patiently waiting for this moment. As Mariette and Winslow stood together, their eyes were so full of love that no one could ever say that had settled for anything less than perfect.

As the clergyman rumbled on, Winslow whispered that he loved her, and she discreetly slid her hand into his.

It wasn't until after that the real surprise came. Mariette sat with her groom under a large cherry tree, smiling against her will, and was approached by the prince himself, dressed in full castle garb.

"Mariette, Winslow,"-he nodded to them-"I have some news."

Winslow glanced at her curiously, but she shook her head. She had no idea what he was up to.

Unable to hide his satisfied grin any longer, the prince continued, "Recently, the duke of a very large piece of land passed. As he has no sons, if none is appointed to that position soon, it shall surely be chaos. I have spoken to my father, and the two of us have agreed that, if you'll take it, of course, the position is yours, Winslow."

Winslow's eyes widened and he spluttered, "You can't be serious! I cannot be a duke! I am poor, insignificant, nothing..."

"As repayment for the courageous effort you executed saving me," the prince went on, smiling, "it would almost be rude of you not to take it. Please, Winslow, I only want you to be happy."

A sort of content silence followed as Mariette and Winslow realized that the prince was doing this for her.

"Thank you," she said softly. She stood, her gown trailing the ground as she walked to him. She kissed his cheek, then stared into his large eyes, lit wonderfully by the spring day.

He took her hands and squeezed them. "Anything, Mariette. Emeline." He sighed. "You were right, I think, that night you said I fell in love with an illusion of you. I was always in love with Emeline, I was only too stubborn to see it. But Winslow...I think he would love you even if you were an ugly old maid."

"He's right, you know," Winslow whispered into her ear, and his arms came around her.

Mariette smiled. "I know."

It began then, that thing that worms its way into every good story. The story books called it "happily ever after", but Mariette would have laughed at such a small, insignificant word as "happily". She would opt for "joyously" or "perfectly". After all, the story books couldn't have gotten everything right.