A Life In Cinders

Once upon a time, a young woman lived with her evil stepsisters. They bullied and abused her, making her their servant whilst they lived the high life. When the prince invited everyone to a grand ball, and her stepsisters tried to prevent her from coming, it was only the intervention of a fairy godmother that saved her, and gave her the chance of a happily ever after.

This should not be her story.

-

The ballroom was stunning.

That was hardly surprising, given it was the Prince’s greatest party yet, but still. I hadn’t known anything could look so breathtaking. Glass decorations hung from the ceiling, catching the light of the flickering candles- of which there were hundreds- and sending it off in a thousand unexpected directions. The floor had been polished so it shone like water, which only reflected the lights back again. It was like walking through a sunbeam, and every time I caught a glimpse out the window at the pitch black of the night I did a double take. It was as if we had been swallowed by a void, like nothing existed outside the hall. That might as well have been the case, as far as I was concerned.

The people were just as stunning. Everyone who was anyone, and quite a few who weren’t, had been invited. As my mother had acidly pointed out, the stated dress code on the invite (fine wear) was code for ‘dress to impress as though your life depends on it’. These people were dressed as though they could see the executioner’s axe.

I pulled my mother’s beaded shawl tighter around my shoulders, took a deep breath, and plunged back into the throng. Every time I had to speak to someone I sent another silent thank you out to my father. His advice before sending me off was almost the opposite of my mother’s. ‘No-one’s here for the conversation,’ he said, ‘so don’t bother trying. Talk about the decor, and what a wonderful party it is, and leave it at that. One night of small talk, my darling, it won’t kill you.’ He’d winked and my mother had snorted, but I was finding it hard. How did people cope just discussing such mundane things as the candles or the ceiling?

There was a burst of high, slightly forced laughter ahead, and something told me I’d found him. I hated how my heart beat quickened at the thought but I followed my feet anyway. Sure enough, as the thicker crowds parted, I saw the prince himself.

Of course he was handsome. Stunning, naturally, and well-dressed and well-cared for, which only emphasised his looks. Unlike his father he was prone to smiling, which also helped, and unlike his older brother he exercised and kept himself fit.

None of these were the reason why my pulse kept racing. They helped, I won’t lie about that, but I had something else to cling to. Palms sweating I pushed my way through the crowd.

Everyone had the same idea of course. Who wouldn’t want to be near him, let alone have a chance to talk to him? I got squashed out, carefully stepped in front of and not so carefully elbowed as I tried to move forward. Each shoulder or back I met made me think twice. I was wasting my time. Surely I was too smart to have any faith in my stupid childish fantasy? All that would be waiting for me was disappointment.

And yet, I couldn’t stop myself squeezing forward.

There was a change in the tide and all of a sudden I was left adrift, alone in my own little space. Alone with him.

He smiled at me and my legs wobbled.

Then he frowned. ‘We’ve met before.’

‘Y-yes, your highness. At the university, your highness, at-’

‘The inaugural lectures for the new Dean.’ He smiled and clicked his fingers. ‘I remember. You had very controversial views on what the Dean was saying.’

‘With respect, your highness, so did you.’

‘So I did.’

We grinned at each other, remembering the day. The prince had caught me glowering during the new Dean’s speech, and sought me out afterwards.

-

‘It’s considered bad form to glare at someone when they’re speaking,’ he said as he came up behind me, the smile in his voice doing nothing to stop my terror.

‘S-sorry, your highness. I-I just…’

‘You disagree with his theories?’

I could hear my mother screaming at me. No one wants an opinionated woman, just hold your tongue. But she had also taught me to be honest. ‘I don’t, your highness. I think his theories of city planning and social mobility are fairly limited. There are many aspects that he’s not considering.’

‘Such as?’

‘For a start, he works on the assumption that all households worth noting are two parents and four children. He has no space in his plans for any deviation from this, which is extremely poor planning. The risks of childbirth means there are quite often missing mothers, and after all the out-of-season storms destroyed all the fishing vessels there’s a shortage of fathers as well. This has led to an increase in combined families, and they tend to be much larger. Smaller families are less of an issue- they’ll still have plenty of space- but a complete disregard for larger families is going to lead to excessive overcrowding among some communities.’ It was a regular rant I got into, and for a brief moment I’d forgotten who I was talking to. I looked up and him and flushed again. ‘Your highness.’

He watched me for a moment, and my stomach sank further with each heartbeat of that wait. Then he smiled, a soft, loose smile, and his shoulders sagged.

‘It’s nice to hear someone talking sense for once.’

‘Your highness?’

‘Everyone else seems to buy what the Dean is selling, but it’s so flawed it’s unusable. Any system that is built on his assumptions is going to crumble sooner rather than later.’

‘And the inequalities will only be exacerbated in the meantime.’

‘Exactly! But the new Dean is an old friend of my father’s, so no-one calls him out on it.’ The prince sighed heavily. ‘It’s nice to know I’m not going mad. Someone else can see the problems. And put them across so clearly as well.’

‘Not that anyone will listen to me, your highness. I’m just a lowly postgraduate.’

‘I’ll listen.’

-

That had stopped me in my tracks that day, but the prince’s entourage chose that moment to find him and drag him off to the next official introduction. I never caught sight of him again that day.

That was the only reason I’d accepted the stupid invite to this stupid ball, no matter how often my mother declared it was the only way I would ever get funding or a post. His last words at that meeting had haunted me…

‘I can’t listen if you don’t speak,’ he said softly.

My breath caught. He really did remember.

I cleared my throat and tried to scrape my dignity back into something manageable. ‘I’m not sure what to talk about, your highness. No-one’s giving terrible speeches at the moment.’

‘I might be forced to give a speech or two later. Will you be judging those as harshly?’

‘If they’re that easy to judge harshly then of course.’ I bit my lip, but both of us were still smiling. ‘Your highness.’

‘Seems like someone’s finally going to hold me accountable for the things I say. I guess that means-’

‘Your highness!’

We were interrupted by one of the town council, an over-sized blustering man, squirming through our conversation with all the grace of a drunken pig. The rest of the world quickly came back into focus. I hadn’t realised how focused I had become on the prince, but judging by the glares and stares I was getting plenty of other people had. There was quite a small crowd gathered about us, although they were staying a respectful distance apart, and merely leaning in to try and eavesdrop.

The prince passed a few words with the councillor, then turned back to me. ‘I will see you later.’

Before I had a chance to form a proper response the prince had been dragged away to meet some other important people.

‘Yes, your highness,’ I said to his retreating back.

I started trying to work on cutting my losses. Yes, more time to talk to him that evening would’ve been amazing, but I’d already proved that I’d probably just waste the chance. He had remembered me, and he still stood by how he’d acted then. That was my good news, and it was more successful than the evening had had any right to be.

But it wasn’t the end of it.

He did keep seeing me, popping up at my shoulder every so often for another few stolen sentences. Each time he started with exactly what I was thinking, as though he could read my inner monologue across my cheeks.

‘How does she manage to walk in those heels?’

‘What’s the point in having a seat on the council if you never turn up to the sessions?’

‘I suppose all that hair is making up for the fact there’s nothing in her brain.’

More often than not I started these snippets by snorting, one time straight into the drink I’d been trying to consume in a dignified manner.

I got my own back though. I made a comment about one of the society ladies, (‘Do you think her husband knows that he’s been married to the same woman the whole time, or do you think he thinks it’s a new one every time she re-invents herself?’) and he spat his drink out all over the back of a duchess. The woman turned, building her steam up to berate someone, only to come face to face with the prince. I’ve never seen anyone back down so fast, it was like watching a building thundercloud turn into a rainbow. She made no comment about the sticky drink down her back and instead started praising the prince on the wonderful party.

‘Every aspect of the party,’ I pointed out to him afterwards, ‘except the drinks.’

‘Yes, I’d spotted that too,’ he replied, with another sly grin.

All in all, it was a magical evening. Each time the prince popped up we shared a little more, and it really felt as though we were on the same page about everything.

And then it hit ten o’clock, and she walked in.

The door opened, someone fashionably late, but stragglers had been coming in all evening, so I paid it little mind. What hadn’t been happening all evening was the ripple of silence that followed them. As it spread from the doorway more and more people looked for the cause, and then more and more people got caught up in it.

‘What’s that?’ I asked as I finally had to take notice.

‘Looks like someone interesting has turned up,’ the prince said with a shrugged. With a wink he left to go and play host.

This time he never came back.

I made it to a viewpoint on the stairs just as he got to her and offered his hand for the dance. She did look stunning; denying that would be pointless. She was pretty and perfect, if you like pretty and perfect women. Golden blonde hair down to her waist in luscious waves, big eyes and full red lips, generous chest and tiny waist, and so many layers of skirts that it would be impossible to say anything about her legs.

But she didn’t have any presence. Everyone else was so taken in with her looks and the masterpiece of a dress she was wearing, they didn’t notice that she just stood there. She didn’t own the floor, or try to command attention, or even just cower in a corner like I do. It was as though someone had taken a very pretty doll and dropped it in the middle of the ballroom. Or a pretty vase, given how empty she seemed to be.

But still he offered her his hand, and led her out into the middle of the dance floor. Fine, I thought. After all, she’s made an entrance. It’s only manners to acknowledge her, and it would be socially stupid to ignore the opportunity she presented. Everyone was looking at them, watching them dance alone in the middle of the room, chest to chest…

I looked away, tears in my eyes. I could wait. It was fine.

He never came back.

The rest of the evening I waited for him to appear again, with some snide comment about how the beautiful woman was so shallow his ankles wouldn’t get wet, but he never did. After the first song others went out and joined them on the dance floor, but he never left it, and he never left her. He barely looked away, and I couldn’t fight the urge to keep watching them. Yet in all the time I was watching them I didn’t see them talk. Their mouths never moved, they just gazed into each other’s eyes like drunk teenagers.

She was very pretty window dressing, but apparently he didn’t mind that any more.

Each moment made all our previous encounters taste a little sourer. He had gone out of his way so often and so much to find me, to talk to me, to open up and encourage me to open up. At the end of the day though, he was just the same as any high-born person; appearance was all.

The clock started chiming midnight, and I had just decided it was time I could excuse myself, when there was a collective gasp and a commotion from back in the centre of the hall. I found my perch on the stairs again, just in time to see the unknown beauty race out of the hall and down the steps, her gown looking distinctively less glittery than when she’d arrived. The prince chased after her and I, still blinded by stupid hope, chased as well.

I caught up to him halfway down the steps outside. He was kneeling, clutching what I realised was a shoe. A single one, made of glass of all things, and ridiculously proportioned. It was no wonder it had fallen off when she ran. It was a wonder that it had ever stayed on in the first place.

‘Who was she?’ I asked, doing my best to ignore the fact he was cradling a stupid shoe.

‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled. ‘I didn’t even get her name.’

‘Oh.’ What a shame, I didn’t say. I knew it would never come out with humility. ‘Still…’ I stood there, being as present as I could, a practical head, a reliable head.

‘Yes. Yes, of course! You’re right!’ He jumped up and turned to me, and my smile froze when I saw the mania in his eyes. ‘I can find her again! This shoe, look at it. It’s custom made, it’ll only fit her. All I have to do is get every woman in the town to try on the shoe and I’ll know who she was.’

Or you could look at her face, I thought. You spent two hours dancing with her, are now apparently obsessed with her, but don’t think you could recognise her without make-up?

‘You could, your highness,’ I said slowly. Was this the time to tear him down, point out how utterly childish he was being, how impractical, how-?

‘And then I can marry her!’ He stepped towards me and patted my arm, before taking his precious shoe and bounding up the steps to the hall.

As I stood frozen on the steps, utterly stunned, I could hear the commotion of him already organising a search party and a sweep of the city to find his missing dance partner.

Yes. That would’ve been the moment to try and talk some sense into him, to point out that he had nothing in common with this woman who could do nothing but wear a pretty dress, that he needed a bride would could so much more for him.

Once again I wasted my chance with him. And now there wouldn’t be another.

I looked out into the night, in the vague direction that stupid woman’s coach had gone, and I cursed her.