4. Masquerade Preparations
Masquerade Preparations
Scarlet
I step into the parlor, sunlight streaming through the tall mullioned windows, illuminating clouds of dust kicked up by my stepsisters' frenzied activity. Petunia and Starla are a whirlwind of chatter and fluttering silks before the towering gilt mirror.
"Oh Petunia, you must try this one - the color pairs divinely with your complexion," Starla gushes, holding up an emerald gown against her sister's ruddy cheek.
Petunia gasps, pressing a hand to her ample bosom. "You're so right, dear sister! Let me slip it on."
I shift the cumbersome box of family jewels in my weary arms and glance toward Stepmother ensconced in the corner like a queen holding court. Pillows nearly overwhelmed her thin frame in the delicate rosewood chair as she observes the proceedings, thin lips pursed in perpetual displeasure. The tea and pastries I rushed to prepare at dawn sit untouched beside her.
"Girls, you must select gowns that properly flatter your best features," she pronounces in clipped tones. "We can't have you looking like tavern wenches."
Petunia preens before the mirror in the emerald dress, which highlights her ginger curls beautifully but strains at the seams.
Stepmother tsks under her breath. "Perhaps something with a more...forgiving cut."
Petunia's face falls momentarily before brightening again. "You're so right, Stepmother. This shade washes me out dreadfully. Now this!" She flourishes a garish fuchsia gown against her frame.
I ache as I shift the jewel box again, simmering resentment. Just one piece sold could finance such urgent repairs, yet here I stand, enabling such wanton indulgence while our family legacy crumbles.
"Oh yes, much better!" Starla claps. "The king himself will beg for your hand when he beholds you in fuchsia."
At the mention of the king, anxiety coils in my gut. I recall his piercing eyes when I stumbled into him at court after the failed jewel heist. My pulse quickens, imagining his reaction if I'm recognized at the ball, even masked.
The hours drag on as I mute my protests and watch bounties of silk unfurled and critiqued. Stepmother finds fault with each gown in turn - too bright, too formal, too revealing, too matronly. The grating discontent in her voice frays my nerves while Petunia and Starla become increasingly desperate to please.
"Oh please mother, I must have this one!" Petunia grasps the fuschia gown to her chest defiantly despite Stepmother's lukewarm reaction. "I'll be the belle of the ball!"
Starla scoffs delicately. "Don't be gauche, sister. Simplicity and taste are what His Majesty will want in a bride." She dons a sleek black gown and gazes at her reflection approvingly.
As they argue over styles and fabrics, my thoughts drift to the imposing king who almost ensnared me. I picture Petunia dripping in gems, hardly able to move under their weight. The king would be dazzled initially, but unlikely to endure her preening.
Starla glides by in a slinky dark gown with a plunging neckline. Much too provocative, I think. The king struck me as rather conservative. Well besides his obsession with gold. The man's entire room was gold, but that was it. No frills, no jewels…just gold.
The afternoon wears on as dress after dress is modeled and critiqued. My hands ache from clutching jewel after jewel. Just one would keep the manor solvent for months... No, stop. Stay focused.
Petunia sweeps by in a massive ballgown, grinning excitedly. "This is the one! I'll be the belle of the ball!" The king would find it overwhelming, I suspect.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, they have both decided on their dresses — though I am sure that neither of them is truly happy with their choice. I walk out of the room, my heart heavy with sadness for the wasted money, but hoping that at least one of them will feel some sense of joy and satisfaction as they glide in their chosen gowns through the masquerade.
***
I stand in the darkness, watching the carriage slowly pull away from the estate. The white horses glow in the moonlight, their manes and tails flowing behind them like a gentle river. In the carriage, my stepmother and stepsisters are leaving for the masquerade, and I will soon be following them. Not that they know it.
The thoughts of the upcoming night fill me with nerves. I am excited to go to the masquerade, to dress up and become someone else for a night, to escape from the restrictions of my family. But at the same time, I am afraid of what will happen if I am discovered. I know the consequences of such an action would be dire. I'm not just going to dance the night away. I have a job to complete.
My gaze follows the carriage until it is nothing more than a tiny dot in the darkness. I sigh and turn away from my home and set off in the opposite direction, towards the home of Fairy Godmother. I wrap my cloak tighter, hands buried in its folds against the chill. My breath mists before me as I hurry along the deserted road.
Arriving at the unassuming home, I rap sharply on the weathered door, shifting from foot to foot. Mercifully, the door swings open, spilling warm golden light over me.
Fairy Godmother welcomes me inside with a warm smile, shutting out the chill night air. "Come in, come in! We've got work to do."
I eagerly step over the threshold and breathe a sigh of relief to be out of the cold darkness. Her cozy cottage envelops me in warmth - a crackling fire, the rich aroma of beef stew bubbling. It already feels more like home than the drafty manor I left behind.
Fairy Godmother puts a kettle on to boil. "Let's get you warmed up with some tea while we prepare."
I extend my numb fingers toward the fire. "Bless you, it's miserable out there tonight."
She pats my shoulder affectionately as she passes, kettle whistling. Soon I'm cradling a steaming mug, breathing in the floral scented steam.
"Drink up! Can't have you catching a chill before the ball." Fairy Godmother winks, sipping her own tea.
I laugh softly. "No indeed. Thank you for everything, truly. You've always taken such good care of me."
Her eyes crinkle with a smile both maternal and wistful. "Of course, dear one. Anything for James' little girl."
At the mention of my father's name, a lump forms in my throat. Fairy Godmother had been one of his dearest friends since their youth, closer than kin. She was the one who took me in when I was left bereft and alone after he passed.
Her wrinkled hand reaches out to pat my own where it rests on the worn tabletop. "You have his spirit, you know. That stubborn spark that pushed him to achieve the impossible, no matter the odds."
I glance down, touched and sad all at once. It's been years since his booming laugh echoed through our home, yet the grief still ambushes me at odd moments.
"He would be so proud of the resourceful young woman you've become," she continues gently. "Proud, and utterly unsurprised at your boldness!"
A watery chuckle escapes me at that. She isn't wrong - Father always encouraged my adventurous streak, much to my ladylike governess' chagrin. The memory kindles a faint, bittersweet warmth in my chest.
Fairy Godmother squeezes my hand, her eyes faraway for a moment. "He did everything for you, Scarlet. Just as I will. Whatever it takes."
I clasp her hand tightly in return, vision blurring with grateful tears. With her guidance, I will find a way back to the home and life that was stolen from me.
She smiles, a glint of familiar stubbornness in her gaze. "Now then! We have a ball to prepare for. Try it on," she says as she hands me a delicate mask.
I turn to face a mirror hanging on the wall and hold the mask up to my face. It is cold and smooth to the touch, decorated with drops of mist that drip onto my face and run like trails of rain down my neck. This must be part of Fairy Godmother's magic.
"People become uncomfortable around people who cry. You will be a sad beauty that turns the crowd's heads away, giving you an anonymity that should work in your favor to sneak out and steal the crown. Now hurry, get dressed in my room, so you aren't late."
Fairy Godmother leads me into her bedchamber where the beautiful ballgown awaits on a mannequin. I reverently run my fingers over the intricate beading and rich, vibrant fabric.
The ballgown shimmers with a red so vibrant it is almost translucent. The gown is strapless and tight-fitting, with just enough room for my breasts to move up and down as I breathe. The skirt is full like a red and gold cloud, mimicking the stormy sky outside. It flares out at the hips like a bell that continues down to my feet and dances with my every step. The red fabric is embroidered with gold thread and glittering beads that drape across my body like a river of blood and diamonds.
"It's stunning," I breathe.
"Only the best for you, my dear. Now go behind the screen and put it on."
I carefully remove the gown from the mannequin and step behind the screen. The cool silk slips luxuriously over my skin as I wriggle into it.
"Are you decent? Let me lace you up," Fairy Godmother calls.
I emerge and turn my back to her. Deft fingers work quickly up the gown's back, tightening and securing the laces. Her weathered hands are gentle and warm on my bare skin.
When she finishes, I turn and clasp her hands gratefully. "Thank you. For everything you've done for me."
She cups my cheek tenderly. "You deserve the world, child. Now come, take a look."
We stand before the full length mirror, her hands resting proudly on my shoulders. I hardly recognize the elegant lady staring back at me. No trace of the scorned servant girl remains. Tonight I can be someone new.
Fairy Godmother smiles at my reflection. "You're perfect. Now they'll never suspect who's under that mask. My masterpiece." She pulls my hair into a delicate bun and secures it with ruby clips. My face is painted delicately to bring out the green of my eyes, a bright red painted on my lips. I am finally ready.
I clasp my hands around Fairy Godmother and hug her tight. "Thank you so much," I say, tears forming in the corner of my eyes.
"You're welcome." She smiles softly and runs a hand over my head. "Be brave. Come back in one piece."
She helps me into a thick velvet cloak to shield against the night's chill. I pull the hood up to conceal my identity.
Fairy Godmother embraces me one last time. "Now hurry, your carriage awaits."
I step outside into the darkness, my cloak swirling around me. A carriage waits to whisk me off to the palace. As we pull away, I glimpse Fairy Godmother watching from the doorway, the warm light from inside framing her kind face until we round a bend.
I gather the cloak tightly against the cold night air as I peer ahead. In the distance, the glittering lights of the palace beckon. Soon, the real game will begin.
***
The carriage rocks to a halt, and I spin around, questioning the driver.
"What's going on?" I demand, voice shaking with confusion.
The driver tips his hat low over his eyes. "Fairy Godmother gave me strict orders. Said I had to wait here." He gestures out the window at the night sky.
I swallow hard, nerves buzzing in anticipation. "Wait? Wait for what?"
The driver shrugs and taps his fingers against the reins. "Don't know. Don't ask me."
The door opens, and Lucius climbs in with me carrying a box. He sits across from me with an amused look on his face.
"Good to see you, Scar," he says.
"Right back at you, Lucius," I reply.
The carriage clatters along, bringing us ever closer to the looming palace. I try not to think about how many guards will stand between me and my goal tonight.
Lucius gives me a roguish grin, no hint of nerves in his relaxed posture. "Well Scar, shall we review the plan one more time?"
I make a face at him. "Please, I could recite it in my sleep by now. You've gone over it often enough."
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Forgive me for double checking before our most daring heist yet! I know how you hate to be unprepared."
I have to smile at that, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. Beneath his swagger, Lucius is one of the most meticulous thieves I know. We make a good team.
"All right, surprise me then," I say, leaning back and crossing my arms. "What's in that suspicious box you've been guarding this whole ride?"
"Ah, straight to business! I thought you'd never ask." With a flourish, Lucius opens the box to reveal the most exquisite pair of glass slippers. They glimmer in the faint carriage light, carved into the shape of delicate goblets.
I gasp in genuine delight as I lift one shoe, turning it to admire the craftsmanship. "These are a work of art. Fairy Godmother outdid herself."
"She wanted you to have something suitable for a royal ball," Lucius says. "Can't wear your usual muddy boots tonight. I added some padding inside, given they're made of glass and all."
I carefully slip off my practical boots and slide my feet into the slippers. The smooth glass molds comfortably to my feet. "A perfect fit! Fairy Godmother thinks of everything."
"We're almost there." Lucius nods out the window at the looming palace silhouetted against the night sky. I feel my earlier anxiety returning. But one look at Lucius' rakish smile steadies me.
"Just promise you won't actually make me dance tonight," I quip.
He presses a hand to his chest. "You wound me! You’ve got to blend in but I promise I will keep it minimal. Afterall, there are plenty of other damsels to keep me occupied."
It is strange to see the palace ahead when I am actually invited. Well, sort of invited. I am using Fairy Godmothers invitation since I wouldn't be arriving with the one sent to my own family.
Standing tall and looming over Fallwatch, the castle is made of dark stone encircled by thick walls. Lanterns light up the road that gets busier as carriages start to move toward the gate. We stay among them, waiting to leave and heading toward the main entrance.
As the carriage pulls up to the entrance of the palace, I run our plan through my head for the millionth time. We have a small window of opportunity and have to act fast.
"We'll have to be careful," Lucius says as he adjusts his mask. "The guards are always watching."
I nod in agreement, my heart racing at the thought of being caught. I am about to break into the most heavily guarded castle in all of Fallwatch again. If we are caught, we will be jailed without hesitation. Worse for me, considering it wouldn't be my first offense.
"Once we're inside," Lucius continues, "we need to stay together until it's time for you to grab the crown. Several other guild members will create a distraction, and I will be on guard for you. Make sure you get it as quickly as possible."
I swallow hard, my hands shaking in my lap as I try to remain composed. "You got it," I say with more confidence than I feel.
"Good luck," Lucius says with a wink before disembarking from the carriage and heading toward the entrance.
I follow him shortly after with my head held high and a smile on my face, trying not to look too nervous or out of place among the many other guests that have been invited to tonight's masquerade.
Inside, music fills the air, laughter echoes off of walls covered in fine tapestries, and golden decorations are everywhere as if they are doilies. Someone really has a thing for gold apparently. The atmosphere is electric, and people are mingling and dancing with one another like no one has a care in the world. I slide my mask on, take a deep breath, and wait at the top of the stairs to be announced and join those in the ballroom below.