Chương 20: A Perfect Match

I went to Bastien's house to return the loaned commoner's dress. Cinderella had said it looked good on me, and now I actually wanted to keep it. But I wasn't returning it because I was being nice; I needed an excuse to find the pistol. I got to the small whitewashed stone house and knocked. Soon enough, Agathe opened the door.

"Hello, Agatha," I said, smiling my sweetest smile.

"I've come to return the dress. And really, I can't thank you enough for what you did for me."

"You needn't thank me, miss," Agatha said kindly.

"Bastien believes it is his sworn duty to help those in need. He is a true gentleman, a rarity to find in these modern times."

"Is he home, perhaps?" I asked, "I surely didn't thank him nearly enough."

"The master hasn't woken up yet. He needs a long sleep after such a hard night's work." Of course, I knew that. It had been less than five hours since he went to sleep.

"What a shame," I said. Then I started breathing a bit heavily, putting a distressed look on my face.

"I really hoped to see him. It's just... we didn't have an available carriage, so I walked all the way from my estate... and it was just…" I suddenly swayed, making myself look faint and unwell.

"Oh, miss, are you alright?" Agatha asked, her brow furrowing.

"You walked all the way in the hot sun? Please, come in and sit down."

"Oh, I don't want to be of any trouble..."

"Nonsense, I insist," Agatha said, leading me into the parlor.

"Shall I bring you some water?"

"Tea, if it's not too much trouble." As soon as she entered the kitchen, I got up and slipped into the storeroom near the entrance. This was where I suspected the pistol was hidden. The room was filled with Bastien's clocks, making it easy to watch the time. I gave myself exactly five minutes to be on the safe side. I searched frantically but stayed silent, careful not to make a sound. The drawer near the table... no, that's only clock parts, tiny gears, and equipment. In this wooden closet...

there were heavy riding boots, an umbrella, and a thick winter coat. In that next cabinet… more screwdrivers, a small hammer, and whatever this and that was… In another drawer… more useless junk. I started to think he might have taken the pistol to his bedroom or hidden it exceptionally well. But then I spotted his silly shako hat in the corner of the room, resting beside his heavy, dark green coat. I took a look beneath them, and there it was: the belt and the pistol!

He hadn't hidden it or even put it away properly. He had simply discarded the highly valuable weapon on the floor—typical man. I picked up the pistol, turning it over in my hands and admiring it. I saw there were ten more cartridges in the belt, along with lead balls wrapped in paper. I aimed the heavy gun at nothing in particular, imagining shooting it again. What a boom it had made! But I couldn't take it now.

Bastien would know it was me; he knew my name and my face, and he could probably track me back to the Chateau. Plus, I didn't want him to think I was a thief and get angry with me. No, I would come back in the next repetition when Bastien was asleep, invent an excuse for Agatha to make me tea, and steal the pistol—er, borrow it, I mean. It will get put right back in its place in two days. I slipped back into the parlor just in time to enjoy Agatha's tea.

After thanking her again, I left and headed back to the Chateau, sneaking through the garden to the scullery, and up to Cinderella's tower. I hadn't seen Mother or Anastasia once since the start of this repetition, and I loved it. If I could go an entire repetition without looking at either of them, all the merrier. Cinderella was right in the middle of things. She worked with passion, her hands moving quickly with shears, needles, threads, and pink ribbons.

The horde of critters wasn't idle either; dozens of mice and bluebirds moved with efficiency, carrying spools of thread and holding fabric taut. It was absolutely mesmerizing to watch. Surely she could make a highly lucrative living out of this if she opened a dress shop!

"Hi!" I said from the doorway.

"Progress coming along, I assume?"

"Oh, Drizella!" Cinderella turned and gave me a wide smile.

"It's going very well. We are almost done."

"What is she doing here?" squeaked Suzy, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"Relax, Suzy, will you?" I told her.

"I'm a friend now."

"It's true," Cinderella assured the mouse.

"Drizella has changed. She's my dear friend now." Cinderella picked up the unfinished dress and held it against herself to show me.

"Isn't it pretty?" she beamed.

"What do you think? Will it do?"

"It's beautiful," I said honestly. I walked over and slipped the beaded necklace around her neck.

"Here. That shouldn't do much harm." Cinderella looked in the mirror, smiled brightly, and gave me another kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, thank you, Drizella! You are wonderful." I felt thoroughly embarrassed, and I probably blushed. I really wasn't used to being nice, and I certainly wasn't used to people being nice to me. But... if I had to be honest, I liked it so.

"Did Mother and Anastasia give you any trouble?" I asked.

"I told them I was horribly sick," she said with a playful smile.

"Made a whole show of it, too. If the time repeats anyway, I suppose it doesn't matter."

"I need to get dressed as well," I told her.

"Meet me at the scullery in an hour and we'll head out?"

"Sure," she said. I went down to my room and got ready for the royal ball. I washed my face, carefully styled my hair into an elegant updo, and put on my simple but flattering blue silk dress. Even if everyone in the world forgets all about this tomorrow night, I simply cannot attend a high-society party completely unprepared. I looked in the mirror. No, I wasn't beautiful like Cinderella. But for the first time, I didn't think I was particularly ugly, either.

I actually thought I looked quite nice Being stuck in time repetition magic was doing absolute wonders for my self-esteem. The hour was up. I headed down to the scullery to meet Cinderella, only to hear Mother's sharp voice behind the door. Ah, it seems we have trouble. I pushed the door open and saw Anastasia and Mother standing over Cinderella, who was sprawled on the floor with a vivid red handprint on her cheek. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. And suddenly, I was angry.

I was very angry. I was genuinely surprised by the sheer ferocity of it. I had just dragged Cinderella into this, and she had taken a beating. She had probably refused to tell Mother about me to keep me out of trouble.

"There you are, Drizella!" Mother scolded.

"We looked all over for you, and you missed your music lesson. Heavens, child, where were you?"

"Why did you hit her, Mother?" I asked quietly. I knew why, of course. It was an accusation, not a question.

"Cinderella?" she scoffed, waving a dismissive hand.

"The wretched girl did something unforgivable." She shot Cinderella a look of pure disgust.

"There is a royal ball tonight for the Prince—a rare chance for an advantageous marriage. And this ungrateful viper tried to hide the invitation from us! She planned to sneak off alone, as if a filthy scullery maid would even be noticed by the high-born." Mother glared down at her with renewed rage.

"I ought to beat some respect into her!"

"No, Mother. You won't," I said. It was strange, really, but I wasn't intimidated by her. Not one bit.

"It was me who took the invitation from the messenger," I explained calmly.

"And it was me who neglected to inform you. What of it?" Mother looked at me strangely, finally noticing my gown and makeup.

"You..." she began, her tone turning cold.

"You are certainly dressed for the occasion. Why did you do it? Why betray your family? Why side..." She shot another contemptuous look at Cinderella.

"... with her?"

"Oh, why did you do it?" Anastasia repeated, her voice thick with hurt.

"It was because of me, wasn't it? Did you fear my fierce competition for the Prince's heart!?"

"What!?" Mother and I said in unison.

"Oh, don't overthink it," I said, waving my hand.

"I like Cinderella now, and I am going with her to the ball. Since you know about it as well, do as you please. I care not." I walked over to Cinderella and gently helped her to her feet.

"Let's get out of here," I told her softly.

"Oh no, I don't think you will," Mother said, stepping toward me with a sharp, cold stare. I watched her move, immediately recognizing the look on her face and the shift in her shoulders. It had happened before. She was about to slap me. Right hand to my left cheek. Right about... I caught her wrist mid-slap, my fingers locking tightly around her thin arm.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on me!" I spat, and shoved her arm roughly aside. I was physically weak, yes, but Mother wasn't exactly a muscular woman, and she was old.

"Insolent fool!" Mother shrieked.

"I will beat you senseless for this!" With a quick, jerky motion, she pulled off her heavy shoe, preparing to strike me with it hard. But we were in the scullery, and I already had a heavy iron carving knife gripped tightly in my hand.

"Try it, and you bleed," I warned. The absolute calm in my voice surprised me just as much as it shocked them. Mother gasped, stumbling backward. Anastasia began to sob.

"You!" Mother whispered, her eyes wide with absolute horror.

"A demon has taken hold of you! You are no child of mine!" She shoved her shoe back onto her foot and grabbed Anastasia by the arm.

"The ball is important," Mother hissed.

"We need to hurry. I will deal with this madness later." And with that, they both fled. So, that was done. It was unbelievably easy. I just... don't need to be afraid of that old witch anymore! I suddenly felt incredibly good about myself. Cinderella threw her arms around me in a tight hug.

"You were so brave!" she breathed.

"I never would have had the courage to stand up to her."

"But you did," I told her.

"I mean, in the last repetition. She was beating me, and it was you who stopped her."

"I.. I did?" She smiled, looking weirdly proud of herself for something she couldn't remember doing.

"Let's hurry," I said.

"We need to catch Josephine's carriage." We headed out the back gate. I knew exactly where and when the carriage would pass by. I didn't need any convincing on our side; Josephine and especially her father were extremely friendly. They were highly curious about my 'cousin' Cinderella, though that was likely due to her breathtaking beauty rather than anything else. The ride was relatively pleasant.

Josephine's family was way better off than we were, and could afford a much larger, more comfortable carriage with plush velvet seats. Still, I couldn't help but remember that magnificent pumpkin carriage; it was a gleaming masterpiece of magic that not even the Emperor himself could rival. I wondered if I'd ever get to ride in it. But for that to happen, the Fairy Godmother had to show up. Now that I thought about it, what actually caused the Godmother's appearance?

We had treated Cinderella terribly on more occasions than I could count, sometimes with outright cruelty. What was so special about the night we tore her mother's dress to shreds? I remembered the look on her face. The sobbing. What was it she had murmured to herself?

'It's just no use. No use at all. I can't believe. There's nothing left to believe in.' The memory of Cinderella's broken sobs still ached in my chest. I think I knew what she felt at that moment. That was despair. Absolute, true despair. Yes. that was likely the emotion required to summon the Godmother. Well, I had no intention of ever letting Cinderella feel that way again. I would just have to come to terms with riding in non-vegetable transportation.

We arrived at the palace and began the ascent up the horrid, endless stairs. Cinderella stared in wide-eyed wonder at the glittering chandeliers, and even Josephine gazed around in complete awe. To me, however, it was just the same old palace: annoying, endless stairs to climb, an annoying line to wait in, and an annoying prince waiting to roll his eyes at us.

We spilled into the ballroom with all the other eligible ladies, herded into the center of the room where we were expected to stand like statues for the privilege of boring His Highness. No. I'm not doing this. I grabbed Cinderella by the hand, pulled her away from the flock of giggling girls, and marched us straight toward the dessert table.

"Later, this will be flanked by savages," I explained.

"If we want the best pastries, the time is now."

"But shouldn't we..." Cinderella looked nervously over her shoulder at the other girls.

"I mean, everyone else is..."

"Prince Charming likes things out of the ordinary," I told her.

"Things that surprise him." I shoved a rather large fruit tart into my mouth.

"Jusht look ow bored 'ee ish," I mumbled around the pastry, finally swallowing. Cinderella seemed to consider this logic. Then, she shoved a tart into her own mouth and nodded in solemn agreement. The short, frantic messenger began announcing the girls one by one, and each in turn received formal yawns and dramatic eye rolls.

"He really does look bored!" Cinderella whispered.

"Oh my gosh, did he just yawn in that poor lady's face? How rude of him!"

"That's him. Prince Charming."

"But they are all so pretty," Cinderella continued.

"And they put so much effort into their beautiful dresses just for him!"

"With you, it will be a completely different story," I promised.

"I really don't see how..." But I had already taken Cinderella by the hand and pulled her across the room, placing her in the exact same spot she was standing when the Prince first saw her, before the repetitions started. Cinderella looked at me with deep confusion.

"Now, just stand here and look lost and stupid," I instructed.

"Hey! What?"

"Trust me," I said, and abandoned her. I hurried back to the dessert table and watch her put on her 'lost puppy' act. It didn't even take a minute. The Prince walked right past a great general's daughter as if she were made of air and approached Cinderella. He was all smiles and chivalry too, thrilled to find a pretty, lost girl in desperate need of a handsome Prince. But what was that? It didn't look like Cinderella was cooperating with his royal charm at all!

She actually yanked her hand away when he tried to kiss it. She pointed sharply at the line of other girls, clearly saying something angry. I let out a bark of laughter. She was actually scolding him! That was hilarious. The Prince raised his hands defensively, looking entirely taken aback and highly offended. But then, he seemed to regain his composure. He started justifying himself, pointing an accusatory finger up at the King, who was glaring down from the balcony.

And then, for some reason, they both start laughing. Well, I suppose they were a good match. It's probably a good sign when you can argue with someone upon first meeting them and still enjoy their company. I wondered if I would ever find my perfect match. I hoped it was Bastien. Oh, they were dancing now? I would have to ask her how they went from arguing to waltzing so quickly. But right now, I was just glad she was having fun. I scanned the crowd to locate Mother and Anastasia.

I found them staring at Cinderella with wide, furious eyes. Their expressions were absolutely priceless. What was it Mother had said earlier? That no highborn lord would ever cast a second glance her way? She was certainly eating her words now. Besides, was the woman blind? Couldn't she see how wonderfully beautiful Cinderella actually was? Every other person in the ballroom seemed to be gushing over her. I continued scanning the crowd until someone else caught my eye.

I saw a strikingly beautiful woman, standing alone near a wall far from the dancing. She had long, raven-black hair and light brown skin—a rare sight in this region. She wore a dazzling gown of deep turquoise silk. I didn't remember seeing her at the previous balls. Must be a random. The woman caught my eye and gave me a mysterious smile, curling her finger to gesture for me to come over. Curious, I walked toward her.

"Enjoying the ball?" she asked softly.

"I will push through the dullness," I replied dryly.

"It is strange, though," she said, tilting her head and making a thoughtful face.

"In all the other times, Cinderella came to the ball on her own." It took me a long moment to process the meaning of what she had just said. My eyes went wide. Before I could react, the black-haired woman lunged forward, forcefully pressing a wet cloth over my nose and mouth. It had a strong, sickly-sweet chemical odor to it. And then, everything went black.