Chương 19: A Scandalous Story

I walked with Bastien toward his home. I liked Bastien, and I wanted to learn as much as possible about him.

"But what will your wife think?" I asked Bastien on the way.

"Seeing you return home with another young lady?"

"Oh, I'm not married." He had already mentioned that he lived with his sister and a housemaid, but I still wanted to make sure.

"A bachelor!?" I sounded surprised.

"In your old age? How scandalous!"

"Hardly, I'm only twenty-four!" he said. Twenty-four was old.

"Still," I said, "people must talk. An eligible young officer, unmarried... they may wonder, for example, if a mistress is involved, or a gambling debt."

"None of that," he said.

"And just so you know, it is quite common these days for an officer to take his time with marriage. Many of my friends are still single."

"Ah, I see." If a woman was single at twenty-four, she wouldn't hear the end of it. Men certainly had it easier. I needed to know more things about him.

"So, if you are not married," I started, "how do you pass your hours of leisure? Do you fence? Play billiards? Read books?"

"Ah?" He looked surprised.

"Why the sudden interest in a humble lieutenant's life?"

"The walk is dreadfully long, and the scenery dull," I answered.

"One must find a way to pass the time."

"I like to spend time with my sister, when she is home," he said.

"And… maybe a bit of horology."

"Horology?" I asked.

"Repairing pocket watches," he said.

"Look in the right pocket of my coat." His coat? Oh, right, I was wearing it. I slipped my hand into the heavy fabric of the pocket and pulled out a beautiful silver pocket watch. It gleamed and shone in the morning light, much like his pistol. It seemed this fellow liked shiny trinkets just as much as Anastasia did.

"A Breguet," he said.

"It is way above my budget, so I bought a broken one and repaired it. I also make repairs for friends in my free time." I looked at the pretty watch, imagining the dozens of impossibly small, barely visible gears, levers, and springs hidden inside. I didn't understand at all how anyone could fix something so delicate, let alone build it from scratch. It was pure magic to me, not unlike repeating time or turning a pumpkin into a carriage.

"We are here," he said. He gestured to a modest, white-washed stone cottage with blue wooden shutters. It was small but respectable enough. We entered the house, and were immediately stormed by an old housemaid.

"Picked up another one?" she asked dryly, looking right at me.

"Oh, don't say it like that, Agathe," Bastien sighed, taking off his Shako hat.

"Just help the poor lady change, will you? She fell into the sea and is soaking wet. Lend her something of Sylvie's."

"Very well," Agathe said. She looked me up and down to take my size, her eyes highly suspicious.

"Come along, miss." I walked after her, but before we entered the dressing room, I cast a glance backward and caught Bastien ducking into an adjacent room. Once we were in the dressing room, Agathe was all over me, efficiently helping me out of my soaked nightgown and using a warm towel to dry me.

"What were you doing in the sea? A lass such as yourself?" she asked, not waiting for an answer.

"Don't tell me, one of those health crazes? A dip in saltwater or mud or some such nonsense? The sea is a place for fishermen, smugglers, and pirates, not for a lady. Do remember this."

"Ah, yes. I will." She handed me some undergarments to change into, and then opened the closet belonging to Bastien's sister—Sylvie, was it? I took a look, highly curious. A commoner's dress wardrobe! How exciting. But if I expected to see some tattered rags and a few half-decent, heavily patched wool dresses, oh boy, was I mistaken! It was full of gorgeous, high-quality dresses! She had a better clothing dossier than I did! And the fabrics looked newer and in far better condition. How could this be?

A commoner with a better, richer wardrobe than a noble of high birth?? I sighed, realizing I just needed to accept the changing times. Nowadays, a well-paid working citizen was far better off than a poor, noble widow like my mother. At least I would get to pick a pretty dress.

"I would like—""Oh, I'm sorry miss," Agathe twitched her nose.

"We can't give you one of those." She held up a folded, simple-looking white dress.

"That will do just fine. And remember to bring it back before the day ends."

"Ah, yes, sure I will," I said. Damn you, old hag, I thought. It's just a loan, why can't I have the pretty red one?

"As you can see," Agathe smiled proudly, "Bastien is doing really well. Little Sylvie lives like a princess of the palace. She gets every dress she has her eye on, trips to Paris, a fine education... If you ask me, he spoils her rotten, but he does love her so. Now come along, put on the dress." I put it on and looked in the mirror. It was a true commoner's dress, but it was clean and not too raggish. Maybe I even looked a little cute in it—well, as cute as I could.

It wasn't like I truly looked pretty in any dress.

"You look lovely, miss," Agathe said.

"And anyway, true beauty is found in modesty and a pious heart, as the Good Lord intended."

"Ah, yes, pious heart..." I agreed in flat voice. We stepped out of the room and saw Bastien. He had changed into civilian clothes, and he looked good without his uniform too—even better without that silly hat. But his pistol… where did he put it? Agathe offered us tea, but Bastien apologized, saying he was tired after his long night shift and we would have to excuse him. He bid me farewell and retreated to another room at the end of the corridor. Unlike him, I gladly accepted the tea offering. This was important.

She led me to the parlor, a modest but comfortable sitting room and went to the kitchen. I looked at the brass mantel clock resting above the fireplace and checked the time. It took her exactly seven minutes to boil the water, prepare the tray, and return with the tea. Which was… not really bad, actually. When I'll come back here in the next repetition, assuming I wouldn't make her highly suspicious of me, I will be left completely alone in the house for seven whole minutes to do exactly as I please.

I thanked her for the tea, got up, and started to walk out of the house. But instead of heading out the main door, I deliberately slipped into the room near the entrance I had seen Bastien enter earlier. This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. This room was some kind of storeroom or workshop. It was full of clutter.

I could see a table covered in pocket watch parts and tiny tools, some uniforms hanging up, and another small table holding what I guessed were pistol maintenance supplies. Yes, his pistol might be hidden here somewhere.

"Oh no, miss, this is not the exit." I jumped, apologized profusely for my clumsiness, and walked to the real exit door. I started to head back home. Bastien's house was actually quite close to the Chateau, less than a half-hour's walk away. As I walked, I was in a very good mood. Who would think that just running blindly into the sea would lead to such nice and interesting things? Well, there was the drowning part, which wasn't fun, but overall it was totally worth it.

What I really wanted now was someone to tell all about it! About how a handsome officer in uniform with a really nice jawline rescued me, and how scandalous it all was! I could find Josephine, she would be so jealous! But… I could also… talk to Cinderella. She hates me now, of course, but what of it? It was easy enough to make her like me last time. I would just buy her the fruit tart, the kind she used to eat with her father. She would get all emotional and teary. Maybe I would even apologize.

Yes, she would be my friend again, and I would tell her all about Bastien. Maybe I could even get some seduction advice from her; she was a master at it, after all. I stopped by the bakery to buy the tart, got home, and went straight to my room, careful not to make any noise. At this time, Mother and Anastasia were supposed to be at their music lesson. I rang Cinderella's bell, summoning her from whatever silly chores she was doing in the scullery. I sat on my bed, waiting.

After a few minutes, my door opened, and a tired Cinderella stepped inside.

"Yes, Drizella?"

"Ah… hey there," I stammered. I hadn't really thought about what I was going to say.

"I just… well, I thought we could chat."

"Chat?" she said.

"Tell me what you need. Please, I'm busy." That was weird. I wasn't sure what to say. Just give her the fruit tart? No, save that for later…

"I thought, that.." I stammered some more.

"I want to, maybe, apologize?"

"Apologize? Is this some game you are playing?" Cinderella sounded angry and impatient, like she thought this was all some joke on her. But it wasn't! She was my friend! I just wanted her back like that!

"You know… for all that," I continued, trying to smile, though I felt deeply embarrassed for some reason.

"Telling you to do all the work, treating you like that, all of us being mean to you all the time, and such." Cinderella looked at me, her eyes narrowing as her lips pressed tight. When she spoke, her voice was harsh and cold.

"I don't know what your deal is," she all but shouted at me, "but you don't get to apologize, or expect my forgiveness! Tell me to do work? Being mean to me and such? How dare you say it like it's just some small, trivial thing! You do much, much more than that! So leave me be, let me do my work, and bring another day to an end!" She had never spoken to me like that before. I... she was my best friend just yesterday. I felt my eyes fill with tears.

"I… you… I didn't…"

"Oh, don't you put on that face now," Cinderella said coldly. But I saw it all flashing before my eyes. How we ate at the bakery, how happy she was, our fun at the ball, the warm words she had said to me, her hug… I could still feel my cheek where she had kissed it. I looked into her eyes and there was nothing but coldness. I was nothing to her now. And that broke something inside of me.

"No, no, no," I grabbed her hand, fully crying now, unable to stop it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, please don't hate me. Don't…. don't hate me, please." I was a mess, crying hard, unable to catch my breath. What was wrong with me, anyway? Why did I need her love so much? I could admit it by now… Cinderella was important to me. And it hurt that she forgot. It hurt that she hated me. It hurt so much.

"Please don't hate me," I continued to sob.

"Don't hate me, Please… please don't." It went on like this for some time. I was truly pitiful. But she didn't laugh at me, or simply leave. Instead, she moved to sit on the bed beside me. My head ended up in her lap; I was weeping, and she gently stroked my hair. Why did it come to this? It wasn't my intention at all. And why was I such a crybaby at sixteen years of age, anyway?

"You are right," I said, my voice thick with tears and my face surely a blotchy mess.

"We were monsters to you. But... I don't want to be. You… you are important to me."

"Okay," Cinderella said quietly, still stroking my hair.

"But why… this is just so sudden of you." I finally got ahold of myself, wiped my tears, smoothed my hair a bit, and took a long breath. I picked up the paper bag with the tart and handed it to her.

"For you…"

"Is this…" She opened it, then smiled.

"A fruit tart!"

"Yes," I said.

"You used to eat those with your father, right?"

"Why, yes," she looked surprised, then looked up at me.

"But how could you possibly know that?" I told her then. I told her everything that had happened. The time repetition magic, the ball, how Anastasia and I viciously tore her mother's dress, the fairy godmother, the prince, even the glass slipper. Ironically, I didn't mention Bastien and the morning's events, which didn't feel very relevant right now. It was a weird story, but I think there were too many specific details for her to doubt me. She looked at me seriously. I think she believed me.

"My mother's dress…" she said to me quietly.

"You tore it. How… how could you do such a thing?" I didn't flinch. I was beyond that now. I looked her in the eyes and told her the truth.

"The me from before," I said, "could easily do it. I hated myself. I thought of myself as dirt, nothing more, really. And I hated you for your beauty. I hated you so much. Back then, the thought of you going to the ball, the thought of people looking at both of us, comparing us, seeing me beside you... it was unbearable. But after that, I changed. Now, even the memory of it fills me with disgust. You're still beautiful and I'm still ugly, but I don't hate either of us anymore."

Now Cinderella's eyes were somewhat wet. Oh wow, where did all that honest mumbling come from? It was embarrassing, really. Cinderella hugged me then. Strong, and for a long time. We just stayed like that for a long moment. After that, Cinderella took out the fruit tart.

"Eat with me?"

"Sure," I said. The emotional breakdown had made me quite hungry. We ate, and the fruit tart was lovely.

"This magic you have," Cinderella started.

"It is truly unbelievable. You know the future. You… you can change it."

"That's the thing," I said with a sigh.

"No matter what I change, it will just return back in two days. So what's the point of it, really?"

"Don't you see?" said Cinderella, her eyes shining.

"It's all like… a grand rehearsal! For when the repetitions finally stop! You are meant to figure out how to make the absolute best outcome for everyone, so when the time repetition ends, it will be the future you made! A future where all your wishes will come true!"

"Oh, but what if it never ends?" I sighed.

"I will go crazy eventually. And if it's the last repetition and I don't know about it… I couldn't make all these follies, expecting that no one will remember."

"You do have a point," Cinderella agreed.

"But… you mentioned this all had something to do with Lucifer. It sounds silly, but… maybe we can get some answers from him?"

"I tried it," I said.

"He always acts like his usual mean old self, even going so far as to scratch me one time. Honestly, I'm not sure what to do."

"I can see how this is a problem."

"I don't like it," I said honestly.

"This repetition magic. I have this power, but it hurts that everyone else always forgets. So… when someone actually likes me… it's—""I know," Cinderella said, then smiled at me.

"But maybe we could do something about it."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I could think about it," she said, tapping her chin.

"I can tell you exactly what you need to do and say, so that I would trust you, and believe you right at the start of a new repetition."

"I don't know," I said doubtfully.

"When it starts, you more or less despise me."

"Yes, but I'm sure I will think of something," she said.

"If you can have me on board at the start of each repetition, I'll help you. You won't be so alone in this."

"Thank you," I said.

"That is kind of you." Knock knock knock. A faint knock sounded on the main door downstairs. Ah, that was the messenger.

"Is that the ball invitation?" Cinderella asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I better get it," said Cinderella.

"Wait just a moment." I waited, and after a short moment, she returned with the envelope.

"I thanked the messenger for a 'ball invitation'!" Cinderella said with a playful smile.

"He was so surprised!" Cinderella opened the envelope and read it.

"To think… to think that I could actually meet a fairy godmother… and, and dance with a prince."

"Marry him too," I added.

"If I knew when the last repetition was, I would make sure you get your happy ending."

"Thank you," she said, and kissed me on the cheek.

"That is very thoughtful of you." I looked down shyly and smiled to myself, genuinely happy for a second kiss from her.

"So… what now?" she asked.

"I mean, what is your plan for this repetition?"

"I don't really have one," I said.

"I usually use the ball invitation to decide who will go to the ball."

"Oh," Cinderella said.

"You must have gone to that ball many times already… you must be bored of it by now." Oh, I was bored of it, very much so. But I could hardly miss the longing in Cinderella's voice. She, of course, really wanted to go. Ah, fine. I could probably endure another ball. And the punch was good.

"Yeah, we could go," I said.

"We could probably catch a ride with Josephine's carriage. I know when and where to catch her."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Cinderella smiled her sweetest smile—the type of smile that, for some reason, filled me with warmth.

"Josephine will head out around nine. You will need to be sure to fix your mother's dress before then," I said.

"As for me, well, I need to return this commoner's dress…" And search for a certain flintlock cavalry pistol.

"It is certainly not from your wardrobe." Cinderella looked at it for the first time and gave a small chuckle.

"It's… well…"

"Simple?"

"It looks really lovely on you," she said, and she sounded like she meant it.

"And why did you need to borrow it, anyway?"

"Because I fell into the sea just this morning," I said.

"I was all soaking wet. Drowned, too."

"You what?" she gasped.

"Please, tell me what happened."

"Well, I'm glad you asked," I smiled.

"It's really quite a scandalous story, if I'm being honest…"