Shut Up, Cinderella

Of Fairies and Meddling Godmothers

It was the evening of the ball, and still Cinder didn't regret his decision.

The past days had been busy. All the young people in town had suddenly realized they needed dancing shoes, and plenty had come to him with bribes and pleas to still have them done in time. Cinder had told them off for not checking earlier, but he had also completed all the orders. Just barely, but he had made it.

And now, he thought, he would have absolute peace for a night. No one else at home, not even the maid. Just him and the silence and space to think and be himself.

The others, of course, still didn't get it. They had given up on pestering him, but now they wouldn't stop rubbing it in his face that they were going and he wasn't. As if he would get jealous or something. Little did they know.

"Cinder, Cinder!" Izetta shouted, waltzing into the workshop before he could respond, with Marietta following close behind. "How do we look?"

He studied them up and down. They did look pretty. Their gowns were no match for those of nobility but very much up to fashion, made of shimmering satins, cut to complement their figures as best as possible, adorned with so many frills and ribbons that he barely knew where to look. Their hair was gathered in matching curly updos, golden in Marietta's case, light brown in Izetta's. They had never looked better, but all Cinder saw when he looked at their dresses was the price of the shiny materials.

"Presentable," he said.

"Because we prepared for a ball," Marietta said smugly. "And you didn't. And now you have to stay home all alone in your ugly old rags."

"It's too late for you to change your mind now," Izetta added with a flippant gesture. "Too bad, so sad."

Cinder shrugged, obviously not the reaction they were hoping for. "I'll pass."

"Careful with your gowns, girls!" Hestia's voice came through the door. "Hurry up and put on your coats, it's almost time for the carriage to leave."

He lifted his head. In the doorframe he caught a glimpse of her: dressed to the nines just like her daughters, looking years younger than she was. Almost as if she, too, was hoping for a chance to marry the prince. Or maybe someone else with money. Husbands were easy to replace after all, he thought bitterly, if they had only ever been a means to provide for oneself.

"Well, Cinder, we're leaving," she called into the workshop, sticking her head in. "Try not to get too lonely here without us."

The way she said it made it obvious that she still wasn't over him not going. Cinder clicked his tongue, crossing his arms in defense. "Try not to get too disappointed when you all come back single."

"This boy, I swear," he caught her muttering as she and the girls walked outside. There was the clopping of hooves, then the carriage moved past the window, Izetta and Marietta both waving at him with smug smiles on their faces. They really thought they were about to have the time of their lives and come back with the men of their dreams, Cinder thought with amusement. Oh, to be this naïve again.

With a heavy, relaxed sigh he closed the window-shutters and retreated into the house

This was the life, he thought as he took out the broom to sweep the floors in peace. Just being able to do what needed doing, with no one messing up his work or flooding him with unnecessary chatter. He'd have to check the pantry later too, see if anything inside was at risk of spoiling, then take care of the fireplaces. They already weren't being cleaned often enough for his taste as it was; he never had the time.

And when he was done, he thought, he would curl up in his room with a blanket and one of his books.

Cinder had barely had time to think that when there was a knock on the door.