Ella

Mom, unfortunately, knew she had to teach me all I would need quickly before her end. So, she taught me to read, cook, sew, and keep a house by ten. Mom passed about a month after my eleventh birthday a few years ago. My father and I had a wonderful life, but he was lonely. He was convinced I still needed a mother figure. So, he and the widow Monroe married after dating for only six weeks. She and her two brats moved in and took over. They treated me as their servant, not like a sister. The real servants were loyal to my mother and quit when the new missus stopped paying them. Father was so much in love with his new wife and her daughters that I became an issue. I chose to remove myself from the situation.

 I moved into the guest house. I only went to the main house twice daily to make breakfasts and dinners for everyone. Even though I prepared the meals, I felt unwanted in the dining room because one of the stepsisters sat on either side of my father during meals chatting about the things they needed to buy. I quickly learned my place in the family; last. Not just because of my age but because I wasn’t number one to my father anymore.

 So, to appear to be eating with the family for my father, I watched and listened from my favorite place besides the coal box next to the wood stove. How dare they? They don’t try to do anything to beautify the home or themselves. All three of them want to bleed father dry. Little did they know that the money would run out in four months when I turned eighteen because it was my mother’s, and she left me two-thirds of her estate and wealth, Ella Hale Tudor. Everything will change come June 5^th.

My passion is sewing. That was our thing, mom and me. By the time I was twelve, I could sew a simple dress, and before her death, I was creating ball gowns. I had become swamped over the recent months because every young woman living within hundreds of miles of this kingdom was looking for the perfect ball gown to be the next princess. Everyone knows I can make you look like a queen. I learned from the best seamstress that ever lived; my mother was a magician with clothes. She could slim the chubby, elongate the short, and flattered the plain. For many years I would accompany my mother to the palace for the fittings and ballroom makeover, and after her death, the queen requested my assistance; after no one satisfied her expectations. All who placed their order by Christmas last year have done the final fittings, and I am finishing last-minute alterations. The ball is on the last Saturday in May. I stop taking new requests at the end of February. I may agree to modify an existing dress until the middle of March, but nothing past the 17th. From the eighteenth until May 15th, I am working on the royal family’s attire, and I will update the royal ballroom in the last week before the ball.

My stepsisters will be attending the ball this year. I don’t turn 18 until the next week, but the ball doesn’t excite me. Over fifty women are trying to turn one person’s head. One bachelor dancing with who looks interesting flirts best or smiles at the right moment. That doesn’t interest me at all. Of course, my sisters needed gowns and waited until I had to rush. One wants red, and the other wants green; neither is appropriate for their body shape. I can only suggest different types and colors, but the customers are always right, yes or no?

Whoa, it’s been a crazy four months, and the ball is in 30 hours. I’m just leaving the palace, but the decorations are gorgeous. I am ready for a nap. I have been going nonstop for over six months. Just so the royal family can marry off the last Prince.

***Breaking news***

The Prince didn’t choose a wife last night! The royal crier announced that he had left to find the woman he’s been in love with for years. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Is this the residence of Ella, the seamstress? She lived here but moved out over six months ago, but my daughters are here. No thanks, just looking for Ella. The Prince turned and spotted the guest house. He walked up to the door, and just as he raised his hand to knock, Ella opened the door to cook dinner for the family.

Prince: Ella, I love you. Will you marry me?

Ella: What?

Prince: I have been in love with you since I was ten, watching you helping your mom decorate the ballroom year after year and even stepping up when she was getting weaker and taking over when she could no longer handle the job without complaining. My mom, the queen, encouraged your mom to move her money to an account for you. Everyone knows how the Monroe widow and her daughters lured your father. A rumor said widow Monroe poisoned your mom to get next to your father; I don’t know if that’s true, but I want to take you away from this. Will you honor me by becoming my wife? You can have as much time as you need to decide. I will wait. I don’t want all the other women who attended the ball. You’re the one for me, or I will remain a bachelor forever.

Ella: I will marry you on one condition. I love being a seamstress. I get to keep my job. After all, that is what caused our paths to cross.

Prince: Of course, I agree. I want to make you happy. You’re the best seamstress in all the land. I could never deny future girls their unique gowns. Also, I love how you smile when presenting the finished product to someone!

Cinderella told right!