Chương 47: Useless

Cinderella had died in the last cycle. She had just said so. She was fine now, of course. We were in a time loop, after all. But only a few days ago Cinderella had died, and in all likelihood someone had killed her. Maybe she died in pain. Maybe she lay bleeding on the ground for hours before unconsciousness took her. Thinking about it made the puppet, who usually felt right about nothing, feel anger. Drizella hadn't been there to help her friend. She had been lying here, useless. Or, well... in hell.

"How did you find out?" Drizella asked. It was the first thing she needed to understand. If Cinderella had died, she couldn't have written it in the journal herself.

"Yesterday morning," Cinderella began, "at the start of the cycle, I noticed the last cycle was missing from the journal. I didn't think much of it then. I didn't even mention it to you when I came to see you that morning." She paused.

"But later I turned it over in my mind, and the more I thought about it, the more it disturbed me." She drew a slow breath.

"After you died in the white robe attack, Juliette came to visit. She told me to come to her if anything ever happened, and showed me how to reach her. So I did." So she had chosen to go to Juliette for help, and not to Drizella. It made sense. Drizella was a useless lump of meat. Still, it felt wrong.

"We met, and she was kind, and she seemed truly concerned," Cinderella continued.

"She said I had most likely died. She insisted I wouldn't be left alone in the cycle, and promised to use the Thomas Thomas resources to get to the bottom of it. And she did. The next day she learned something from an informant of theirs."

"What?" Drizella asked. Maybe for the first time, she truly wanted to know something.

"According to Juliette, the Julian group has its eye on the royal ball, the same as us," Cinderella said.

"Since I stopped going, it seems they've found a... candidate. Some pretty time loop assistant they mean to send in to charm the prince and have him marry her. Juliette only heard that it's going well for them, and that their B. M. P is a few cycles from ready."

"Last cycle I went to a party," Cinderella continued.

"It was at the home of a kindly old lord I'd met a few cycles back, only this time I danced. Juliette thinks a time looper tied to the Julian Group was there too, and that he recognized me. By her informant, they meant to take me in for questioning. They didn't suspect I was a time-loop assistant. They only wanted to know more about the ball, and the prince." She stopped, and looked suddenly hesitant.

"How did you die?" Drizella asked.

"Well, I..." Cinderella's eyes slid away.

"It might be wrong, but according to Juliette's informant, I... oh, it's hard to even say it."

"You killed yourself," Drizella supplied, dryly. Cinderella flinched, and wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye.

"It was with a knife," she murmured, very low, still looking aside.

"I... I don't know how. I didn't think I was capable of such a thing. And I don't know why, either. It sounds too... too horrible." Yes. It did. It sounded far-fetched, impossible to imagine Cinderella doing. But Drizella had an idea.

"Do you know about the truth bone?" Drizella asked.

"Yes," Cinderella said.

"I read about it in the journal. In Napoleon's army, you used it once to..." She stopped. She had understood.

"You think they tried to make me drink it?"

"Maybe," Drizella said.

"And you also knew what would happen if they discovered the fairy godmother. That they'd use every resource they had to torture you, every cycle, until they brought her out and killed her. That's the only reason. The only good reason, for you to end your own life."

"I see." She shook her head and wiped another tear.

"Still. Just imagining it..." Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

"You don't have to," Drizella said." You don't know what truly happened. You never can. So it's best not to think about it." Cinderella nodded.

"The important thing," Drizella went on, "is to make sure they never see you again. They still don't know where you live. You'll have to change your routine completely."

"Wait, it just…" Cinderella said.

"Maybe we don't need to take it that far. They only wanted to question me, after all. And Juliette said she'd walk me through the safety protocols, help me to..."

"No," Drizella said.

"Even if we can trust Juliette, she can't always protect you. And the fact that you went so far as to take your own life will only make the Julian group more suspicious, more eager to take you. If they find where you live, they could take your journal, and then it's over for you." Drizella drew a breath. She'd been talking a great deal, and it tired her. It tired her to care. She was a puppet. It felt strange and unnatural, to act this way. Cinderella looked away, crossed her arms, and seemed, of all things, angry.

"Juliette already thought of that," Cinderella said.

"She had me make a copy of the journal. She keeps it herself, and if anything happens to me, she'll put it back in my room."

"And if they find where you live," Drizella said, "they'll just come again. And again."

"So what would you have me do?" she asked, sharper now.

"Stay shut up at home?" Drizella willed her body to sit up.

"You won't have to," she said.

"I'll handle it. I'll take care of them." Drizella had a good idea who had attacked Cinderella. She had already met the Julian group's cell in this town. They'd tried to assassinate her, after all. She'd killed the time looper assassin, but the leader, a red-haired woman, had escaped. If Juliette had an informant, they might know their whereabouts. Drizella would simply go there and, well, kill the lot of them. As she was now, she thought it would actually be easier. She felt no fear.

She likely wouldn't tire, or feel much pain, and she certainly wouldn't hesitate before pulling a trigger. Yes, she would finish them, and win Cinderella the calm, happy loop she deserved.

"No," said Cinderella suddenly.

"I... I don't want you to help me this time." Drizella looked at her for a long moment.

"Why?" Cinderella shifted closer on the bed until they were touching, then took her hand, and squeezed.

"Every cycle, I wake as a meek little servant," she began, a strange, fond smile at her lips.

"I don't despair. I'm not sad. I even sing. I'm full of hope. But the hope is far away, somewhere distant, and in the morning all I'm really thinking about are the small tasks of the day. How to clean this vase. How not to anger Stepmother before breakfast.

"Then I see something strange. A glass slipper, lying on my shelf, gleaming as it catches the sunlight. I'm baffled by it. It wasn't there before, and I can think of no reason for it to be. I pick it up, and there's something magical about it, something I can't name, and I find myself turning it over for a long while, just admiring it.

"Then I notice the strange, horrid little book, one with small spiny bones set into its cover. At first I recoil from it. But I'm curious, so I open it, and I see my own handwriting, and I gasp at words I don't remember writing. It explains everything. The magic. The loop. How everyone keeps forgetting.

It says I wrote all of it and then forgot, and I believe it, because more than recognizing my own hand, the pages are full of little flourishes and small decorations, the very same ones I used when I kept a diary as a little girl. And since I kept that diary in secret, those small decorations are proof enough, all on their own, that every word is true.

"So I begin to read. About everything. About you. And I cry, and I take great care not to stain the pages with my tears.

"And as I read, it tells me about myself. The words say I'm powerful now. They tell it tale by little tale, how because of you I became someone else. How I found courage. And I believe all of it. So as I read, I come to believe in myself." Cinderella was saying a great deal, and it was hard for Drizella to hold her attention on it. What was she trying to say? That she was stronger now? That she didn't need Drizella's help?

"I read about the white robe attack," Cinderella continued.

"It said you tried to... to protect me. To think of me, instead of running. It made no sense. Normal people come back in the loop. You don't. I can't stop thinking that you might still be alive if you hadn't. Why? Why did you do it?" Drizella didn't like answering questions. And even if she had, she didn't have a good answer to that one. Cinderella stroked her hair.

"Like you've told me so many times, I'm powerful now. And until the last cycle, I can't die. I'll have Juliette, and Victor, and James. They've promised to help, and I trust them. You... you've done so much for me. And I know you're not really here. That you're just..." Cinderella grimaced.

"... a puppet. So you can rest. In the last cycle, when it all truly counts, then I'll ask for your help, one last time." She paused, then smiled and added, "After we eat that fruit tart together, of course." Cinderella kissed Drizella's forehead.

"I have to go now. There are people I need to see before the cycle ends. And, oh... I almost forgot." She drew out a letter and set it on the bedside table.

"The answer from your friend's mother. Goodbye, Drizella. I'll see you tomorrow morning." And she was gone. The puppet lay there on the bed, useless, as it ought to be. Drizella would do nothing in the coming cycles; she would wait for the last cycle, when everyone had everything to lose. Time loopers, time assistants, ordinary folk, all of them could truly die then. All except the rare few who were already dead, and for some insane reason still walked the earth.