This Charming Game

⚜️~ Part One ~⚜️

"Elle!"
I almost dropped the fire tongs in fright as my sister's raucous shouts came from right behind me.
"Elle! You got a letter!"

I turned to face Niamh slowly, careful not to flick embers from the kitchen fire I had been stoking.
Nia shoved the letter right into my face in excitement.
I never got letters, yet that was no explanation for why Nia had braved the mice and dark that had always scared her before.

The letter was slightly crumpled, yet very obviously something fancy. It was a pale turquoise trimmed with delicate gold edges. Tiny waves were pressed into the very paper of it.

It was of a similar higher quality like the one that had invited the entire kingdom of Chandor to the princes' ball. Yet it wasn't the delicate eggshell colour ghat the palace favoured. This letter that Nia brandished in one of her large hands, had come from someone else entirely.

"Elle, it's from the prince!"

I gave Niamh a blank look, why would the prince ever send a letter to a simple cleaning girl?

She rolled her eyes and with a stamp of her booted foot to emphasise the words;
"Not our prince. The Prince from the ball. The one you danced with. Elle, that prince sent you a letter.
She sighed looking at the letter longingly, then glared at me;
"Do you even remember that Elle?"

In my mind's eye I could still see it now, the charming men, the beautiful women, the elegance and refinement of the palace. There was nothing that could ever take away those memories of dancing the night away, of those bright vibrant dresses, of the music that had seemed to imbue the ballroom with magic. There was no way I could ever forget the prince's face, how it had leapt with surprise and delight when he had seen me in that fairy like dress.
I had spent almost years making it, I had spent any money I could smuggle away from Vydera to buy the fabric.

I had loved the way the skirts had danced around me, how that shade of blue had brought back so many memories of clear skies and the flower crown embellished with gemstones in my hair had captured the looks of all those around me.

The look on Lady Vydera's face, when she had seen me, her lowly step daughter dressed like a queen. Phina and Niamh's twin looks of amazement and confusion, as I had glided past the slippers of glass. How they had tugged at their violently clashing skirts in embarrassment, their dresses rivalled the brightness of the colour that step-mother had turned, as my Prince Charming had swanned past her daughters, his beautiful blue eyes only trained on me.

How he had spun me in circles and how we had run away from the party and the vigilant eyes of his advisors and the king of Chandor and his son -who the party had been for afterall-

We had talked and laughed for hours, I had felt closer to him then I had with anyone else ever.
When twelve struck and the magic had begun to dissolve he had kissed me on the hand and I had left him one of my mother's slippers as I fled the palace.

"How could I forget Nia? It was the best night of my life."
She handed me the letter, and tried to fix her lips into a neutral look of complacency. But I could feel the waves of jealousy coming off her.
I couldn't blame her either. If it had been her or Phina who had stolen the interest of a prince, I would have been jealous too.

But Nia didn't let it stop her, she straightened her dress over her ample bosom and tried to flatten her wavy ginger hair.
Breathlessly I read the delicate, looping handwriting in blue ink on the front of the letter.
"Lady Rumielle Vydera-Wight"
I brought the paper to my face, trying to see if I could smell the prince on the letter. He had smelt like flowers and sea salt, making him the best smelling man I had ever met, which wasn't hard because the only other men I had really met had been stable hands and my father, who had always smells like stale sweat and beer.

Nia gave me a weird look, but jumped, turning her attention to the mice as they scampered out from under the table and cupboards, so curious to see what all the interest was about.
Nia made a shrill noise of distress, but they ignored her, I lifted one, a speckled brown field mouse I had named Jacque, up on to my shoulder. Heart pounding in my throat I turned the letter over.
It had been sealed with deep sea blue wax but now there was a crack running through the imprinted design of a ship in a field of flowers.

Nia's eyes were wide and her voice was high when she spoke;
"Mother has already read it Elle, you know what she is like."
Elle did, and she wasn't surprised, nothing of Elle's was private as long as her step-mother lived in the same house as her.

Nia pursed her lips as she watched me open it slowly. I couldn't even hear her light panicked breaths over the drumming of my blood in my ears. With bated breath I opened the sea blue letter.

It was empty.

I looked to Nia in horror, was this someone's idea of a cruel prank?
Nia winced slightly under my icy look of confusion.
"Sorry Elle, but mother has it, she wanted me to bring you upstairs to talk."

My heart stopped, my stomach plummeting like I had fallen out of another tree.
Even on a good day I never wanted to be summoned by step-mother, even for such a letter, today wasn't even a good day, I had been late with breakfast and I had only just finished lighting the main fireplaces.
But if Nia has been sent instead of Vydera just screaming down the stairs or ringing her horrible little bell at me, something big had to be up.

I needed to know what was in the letter.

"You weren't going to tell me this before?" I asked Nia as we walked in sync to the door,
Nia shrugged, looking carefully over her shoulders at the gathered rodents. But she was perfectly safe, as uncomfortable as she was, I had full control of my little friends, but Nia couldn't be happier to leave the kitchen and my little mice companions behind, she took the stairs at almost two at a time.

On the main floor Phina was waiting for us, she stood outside of the dining room door with her arms crossed, and an expression that said that she would have much rather been asleep at this hour.

My sister was thin and angular as Niamh was round, her arms perpetually crossed. It was a lie though, underneath she was still the softie she had always been, with a love for pirates and outlaws. She was quick to anger, and knew how to make it hurt. Several of the stable boys had been fast to learn how after calling her by her full name. Call her Josephina and you'd soon have a black eye.

This frown she wore said clearly that she would rather kiss an adder than face her mother this morning.
She gestured to the door, "she's waiting for you,"
I took a nervous breath, a million possibilities bubbling inside me, and stepped into the dining room.