Chương 15: A Monkey

"Cinderella! Cinderella!" Oh, what did Mother want with her now? It was three o'clock already, and she still wasn't done with the dress. Couldn't Mother and Anastasia just live their silly lives and leave the rest of us in peace?

"Drizella," Mother demanded, cornering me in the hall.

"Cinderella is missing! She is late with her chores. She's forgotten the sweeping, the mending and the hearth is completely buried in ash!"

"Oh, but you haven't seen her, Mother," I said, forcing a tone of absolute horror into my voice.

"The servant girl is sick. Deathly so! Feverish and pale. She has the miasma, I'm sure of it."

"She is just the lazy sort," Mother scoffed.

"I'm sure she could—""But miasma can cling to our clothes and food!" I said, speaking as if it were a matter of fact.

"Then we'll catch it, too. It's better to just let her rest for the day."

"I'm really not sure—""I will check on her, Mother," I cut her, already walking away.

"Just to see that she is not simply lazing about." I first walked to my own room to retrieve my simple but lovely and comfortable blue dress, then made the long trek up the tower stairs to Cinderella's room. Ugh, cobwebs instantly snagged in my hair! Cinderella definitely should have cleaned this place. I opened Cinderella's door and..." Eek!" I let out a shriek and immediately clapped a hand over my mouth. The small room was crawling with mice. Like, every single one of them. Birds, too.

This was to be expected, of course; it was Cinderella's room, after all. But still, I was surprised by the sheer, overwhelming horror of seeing so many pests gathered in one place. Strangely, the critters weren't scurrying. They just sat quietly, staring in absolute enchantment as Cinderella worked the dress.

"Drizella!" Cinderella looked surprised to see me. She followed my gaze to the rodents.

"Oh, the mice! You needn't be scared of them, they are harmless, really, they are—""Your little friends," I said, smoothing my skirt.

"Yes, yes, I know." Cinderella looked relieved.

"Thank you."

"You are taking too long with the dress," I scolded.

"How hard could it be... just—""But it's almost done!" Cinderella was beaming now. She lifted the garment from her work table and held it up for me to see.

"What do you think? Just a few more stitches here and there! I promise it won't take long."

"It looks adequate," I said mildly. In truth, it was an astounding dress, and I already knew it would look ten times better on Cinderella's perfect figure.

"I will put my dress on here," I told her.

"Then we will go down to the scullery, out to the garden, and leave without being seen through the back garden gate." I went toward the old wooden bath screen, intending to change there, but then I stopped. I turned back to where all the mice sat and watched me.

"If I catch any of you peeking at me," I warned in a harsh whisper, "I will squish you!" I think Suzy stuck her tiny pink tongue out at me. Whatever. I went behind the screen and changed. By the time I finished, Cinderella had completed her own alterations and stepped behind the screen to change as well. When she emerged, she looked every bit the flawless, beautiful princess I remembered. Seeing her like that, before the time repetitions started, used to make me feel ice-cold and full of dread.

She was my worst nightmare made real: a beauty so bright it rendered me entirely to dirt. It was flawed logic, I knew that. I knew it back then, too. It was jealousy of some sort, if I'm honest. Maybe more… deep brain things. But now, that feeling was mostly gone. I still knew how I looked compared to her. Yes, it was probably still dirt. But now I felt like my looks weren't the only thing going for me.

I was a magical, time-repeating goddess in the midst of a fun experiment, benevolent enough to let my poor servant girl have her day of glory. I really was too kind.

"Isn't it lovely?" Cinderella beamed, "Do you like it? Do you think it will do?"

"It will do," I said plainly.

"Quite well."

"Thank you!" she said, practically glowing, as if I had bestowed the highest compliment imaginable. It probably was the nicest thing she had ever heard from me. I then walked over to her, reaching into the pocket of my dress, and pulled out my blue bead necklace.

"It's a rather old-fashioned piece," I said, handing it to her.

"I was going to throw it away, but perhaps it will do you some good." Cinderella took it delicately, gave the beads a small, reverent embrace, and then put it around her elegant neck. She looked in the cracked mirror and gave a satisfactory nod. When she turned back to me, her eyes were welling with tears. Oh, this again? What now?

"I... I really..." she spoke softly, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just… even until right now, I was still convinced this was all some sort of cruel trick, or a joke being played on me… but… I don't understand why this is happening, but…" Then, she did something she had never done before. Not in any repetition. Not ever. Cinderella hugged me. I stood completely stunned. She was probably smearing tears and snot all over my clean dress, but I let her do it. Strangely enough, it felt... good.

What a sensitive sort Cinderella was, getting completely overwhelmed over some old glass beads and a silly ball invitation. After a long moment, she let go.

"We… we should get going," I murmured, clearing my throat awkwardly.

"We'll be late, is all." Cinderella nodded, and we made our way out. But the warmth of that hug lingered. I didn't get hugged a lot. Mother never hugged us, not that I could remember anyway. It was nice… I had to admit. Being hugged. Then, for some reason, I thought about the day after tomorrow, when the repetition would happen again. Cinderella would forget all of this, and she would despise me again. That thought made me feel bad.

We slipped down the tower, through the scullery, out into the garden, and finally through the back gate and onto the cobblestone street.

"So, how did you know?" she asked as we walked.

"About the royal invitation?" I didn't really want to go into detail about the repetition magic. That would lead to a lot of confusing questions, like what happened in previous repetitions, which I really didn't want to answer.

"I have magic powers," I stated flatly.

"To... know certain things before they happen. I can't tell you much more than that."

"Oh," Cinderella smiled softly.

"I believe you." Because of course she did.

"So the Prince will really be there?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Will he be handsome? Will he dance with the beautiful ladies of the court? Do you know these things?" Oh, why had Cinderella become so chatty all of a sudden?

"Well, the prince is..." I paused, searching for the right words.

"Presentable, I'll say. But that says nothing of his character or his court manners, which are questionable at best. And the ladies... if you can even call them that, are rather plain-looking."

"Oh…" said Cinderella, sounding a notch disappointed by my utter lack of enthusiasm.

"But... maybe," I continued, "your, er... features are exactly His Highness's type. You should give it a try." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Oh, but I couldn't!" Cinderella quickly lowered her gaze, suddenly bashful.

"To dance with the prince would be... wait... is that one of the things you know?"

"Ah, no, no," I lied.

"Just a hunch."

"A hunch…" Cinderella repeated the word, smiling to herself. The walk was very long, but the weather was pleasant, and so was my mood. I looked at all the fine houses, the lush parks, and the bustling shops, and I thought of it all in a completely different way now. With the repetition, I will have an endless holiday. I could go to each of these places, spend a ridiculous amount of money, and just have fun. Every place I saw was now a new fun opportunity.

I saw a lovely pastry shop that caught my eye, and the look of it alone made my stomach rumble.

"Let's stop for something to eat," I said.

"I'm feeling in the mood for a pastry."

"Of course, Drizella," she agreed. We stepped into the shop, and my senses were instantly overwhelmed. The warm, yeasty aroma of fresh-baked bread mingled with caramelized sugar, and melting butter. The glass displays were lined with perfectly glazed fruit tarts and powdered cakes.

"I will have the rice pudding and a custard," I told the baker. Then, I turned and gave Cinderella a questioning look.

"Oh, no," she waved her hands nervously.

"I don't have a single coin, and anyway, I'm really not hungry—""Choose," I ordered.

"Two things." Cinderella looked at me. First with suspicion and confusion, as if she couldn't really digest what I was offering. Then, as understanding slowly dawned on her, her expression changed into bewildered amazement, and finally, into sheer excitement. Cinderella was… weird like that.

"Then... then..." she practically hyperventilated, pointing a trembling finger at the glass.

"A small cream cake! And a fruit tart!" Honestly, that was the kind of reaction one might expect upon receiving the royal crown, not a simple fruit tart. And they weren't even the best tarts in town; she was setting herself up for disappointment. Yet, when we got our pastries and sat on a small bench outside, Cinderella put her fruit-tart spoon into her mouth, and her eyes immediately started tearing up again. What was this, the fifth time today?

"I used to..." she whispered, her voice trembling softly.

"I used to eat these with my father. It's the exact same taste. I had forgotten... but now I remember."

"So... you like the tart?" I asked awkwardly.

"Very much," she said through her teary eyes, "I like it very, very much."

"Good. Good," I muttered. When we finished eating, Cinderella wiped her eyes and looked at me with that painfully honest expression of hers.

"Thank you," she said.

"Even before we get to the ball... this is already the best day I've had in years. So... thank you for that."

"Yes… sure," I mumbled, looking away. Trying to get me embarrassed again, are you? We kept walking until the royal palace appeared, gleaming between the city buildings. It was a breathtaking piece of architecture, even from this distance—tall, sweeping spires of pristine white stone, elegant archways, and magnificent stained-glass windows catching the late afternoon sun.

"It's even more beautiful up close," Cinderella breathed.

"Just imagine what it would be like to live in such a magnificent place."

"An awful lot of stairs, mind you," I pointed out pragmatically. It was only a short walk to the main gates, but it was still mid-evening. We had at least two solid hours to kill before the grand doors would open and the crowds would be let in.

"So, what should we do until the ball starts?" I mused aloud.

"Let's go for a relaxing stroll along the palace's outer wall," Cinderella suggested, her voice enchanted.

"There is a river, and a meadow, and it just looks so... peaceful. But, of course, we can go anywhere else if you prefer."

"No, I'm fine with a stroll to pass the time." We walked past the large plaza and followed the line of the tall white wall. It was undeniably pretty. I looked at Cinderella and smiled involuntarily. The beautiful, flowery background suited her perfectly. She looked like an illustration from a fairy book.

"Behind this section of the wall is the royal garden," Cinderella noted.

"And how would you know that?" I asked.

"Why, I have the absolute best view of the palace grounds from my room at the top of the tower! It's hard to make out the fine details from that far away, but even from there, the royal garden looks magical." After a few moments, she added wistfully, "I wonder... if we could visit the garden once the ball begins and we're inside the palace?"

"Just climb that tree and peek inside," I joked, pointing to a sturdy oak growing near the high stone wall.

"That's a brilliant idea, Drizella!" she chirped, marching straight toward the trunk.

"And there is still enough daylight!"

"What?" I balked, thoroughly confused.

"It was a jest! Surely you can't possibly mean—""Oh, it isn't that unseemly," she reasoned.

"Commoners do it all the time, and this looks like an easy enough climb." I stared at her, wide-eyed. I couldn't even process her 'commoner' argument. We weren't commoners, last I checked. Well, I certainly wasn't.

"But don't you remember climbing trees as a kid?" she asked. What? Of course I didn't! When I was a kid, the trees were much higher by comparison, so it was even more dangerous then than it is now!

"It's... just, the dresses," I stammered, searching for an excuse. But Cinderella had already caught the lowest branch, lifted herself up smoothly, and hopped onto it, exactly like a monkey! I just discovered yet another dark secret about Cinderella! She was actually a monkey! Who would have thought!? She climbed high up into the thick canopy of the tree. It was close enough to the wall itself that she could easily step from a sturdy branch directly onto the top of the stone wall!

"It's breathtaking!" Cinderella beamed down at me.

"Even more beautiful than I imagined! There's a grand marble fountain, a stone bridge arching over a small creek, and oceans of blooming red roses!"

"That's nice," I called back nervously.

"Now come down this instant! You will surely fall and die horribly!" A sudden, vivid image of our cat, Lucifer, after he fell from the tower flashed in my mind. All broken and bloody. It was a horrific thought.

"But you must come up, too!" she insisted.

"I will help you climb! It's easy, you'll see."

"Stop being silly!" I shouted.

"Have you got a monkey brain as well? Come down!" Cinderella's smile instantly vanished, replaced by a troubled, guilty look.

"Oh... I'm so sorry, Drizella. I didn't mean to upset you." She turned back to the tree and carefully began her descent. And then, I got to thinking. I was a time-repeating goddess. I was supposed to be experimenting, pushing boundaries, and doing things I'd never normally do. I sighed heavily, almost unable to believe the words about to leave my own mouth.

"W-wait. I... I will climb the tree." For this repetition, and this repetition only, I, a highborn lady, would become a monkey. I sighed once more for good measure. I marched over to the trunk, glancing around paranoidly to ensure not even a stray mouse was present to witness my most degraded moment. I tried to mimic Cinderella's fluid motion: I reached up, gripped the lowest branch, planted my foot against the rough bark of the trunk. Now, pull. Nothing. I grunted, pulling again with all my might… Still nothing!

I couldn't hoist myself up. I was... too weak. I was a pathetic, weak monkey. Seeing my struggle, Cinderella quickly scrambled down to a lower branch, leaned over, and grabbed my hand to pull me up. Why was she so incredibly strong while I was so fragile? Oh, right. She performed grueling manual labor all day for years, whereas I did absolutely nothing more strenuous than executing a delicate curtsy or lifting a heavy teacup. When she flexed to pull me, I saw the muscle in her arm.

She wasn't a monkey at all—she was a gorilla! I let her haul me up to the first branch, then the next, and then—"Stop!" I shrieked, hugging a thick branch for dear life.

"This... this is definitely too high! I will plummet to my death!"

"But you're so close!" Cinderella encouraged, offering her hand from the branch above. Oh… I wondered, not for the first time, what happens if I die during the repetition magic? Right now, I was pretty sure I was about to get my answer! Cinderella gracefully hopped onto the stone wall again and reached down for me. Now, I had to jump the gap. I made the mistake of looking down. I almost fainted on the spot.

"Don't look down," Cinderella offered helpfully. Marvelous advice, right after I had already looked. But I wanted to do this! I squeezed my eyes shut, gripped Cinderella's hand, let her yank me forward, and blindly launched myself at the palace wall. The moment my feet hit solid stone, I immediately laid flat on my stomach and hugged the cold stone like it was my long-lost lover. Not dead... not dead… I'm definitely still alive.

"You did it!" Cinderella cheered.

"You did wonderfully, Drizella. It's not easy to overcome your fears, I know this." I remained perfectly horizontal, utterly convinced that if I moved an inch, gravity would somehow reclaim me.

"But after all that effort, you simply must look," Cinderella coaxed.

"That's why we came up here!" Trembling, I forced myself to sit up, and eventually, to stand. The top of the wall was nearly two meters wide, so there was actually plenty of room. I glanced over the edge into the garden. The royal garden was... pretty, I suppose? I was still too terrified of plummeting to my death to be properly impressed. After a few moments, Cinderella seemed to have absorbed enough of the garden's beauty and was ready to descend.

She hopped effortlessly back onto the oak tree and offered me her hand. I looked at her outstretched hand, then peered down, down, down the terrifying vertical drop to the ground.

"No," I said simply.

"No?" Cinderella echoed, entirely confused.

"I am not climbing down that tree," I stated calmly. It was a simple fact of the universe. Climbing down was an action I would absolutely not be partaking in.

"But it will be getting dark soon," she reasoned.

"And there is the ball... Drizella, it's not as hard as it looks, I will—""I said no!" I repeated. Good heavens, the girl was dense sometimes.

"Fine," Cinderella sighed, hopping back onto the wall beside me.

"So what do you propose we do?" We could walk along the top of the wall; that wasn't terrifying. But to where? I scanned the perimeter and then spotted it—a spiraling stone staircase built flush against the inner wall, leading directly down.

"The stairs," I pointed.

"I can go down those."

"But those lead into the garden," Cinderella fretted.

"We will be... trespassing!"

"We most certainly would not," I countered smoothly.

"We were formally invited to the palace tonight. We will simply be entering the ballroom through a different door. It is a trivial matter."

"Okay then," said Cinderella, managing a nervous smile.

"We will take a walk through the royal gardens! It is exciting, really. I just… hope we won't get into trouble."

"You worry entirely too much," I dismissed.

"Besides, we still have nearly two hours to kill before the grand doors open."

"I suppose," she murmured, trailing behind me as I marched toward the stone steps. The garden was beautiful. It was nearly eight o'clock on a summer evening, that quiet hour when the sun has set and the sky turns a dusty violet. We passed hedges shaped like mythical beasts, marble statues of forgotten kings, and wide beds of blooming roses. Then, we heard the voices. Two men were walking up the main garden path. One was short and stout, the other taller, with broad shoulders.

They seemed to be heading toward the stone bridge, not far from where we stood.

"Let's hide," I whispered urgently to Cinderella, grabbing her arm. I pointed at a large, dense nearby bush.

"In there." We crouched together behind the foliage. I figured if they walked close enough, we might be able to eavesdrop on some royal gossip! This was somewhat exciting.

"Hey! You there!" the short man suddenly shouted, pointing directly at our bush.

"We saw you! Come out of the bushes at once!" I flushed furiously. This was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing moment of my life.

"By Jove..." I muttered through gritted teeth as Cinderella and I sheepishly stepped out from the shrubbery, brushing leaves off our fine dresses. We stood entirely embarrassed as the two men hurried toward us.

"Hey!" the short man demanded.

"What exactly were you two—""Hold a moment, Pierre," the taller man interrupted smoothly.

"They are just ladies." Did he say, just ladies? As they drew closer, the dim light caught the taller man's face. It was the Prince. Well. That was really awkward.