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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1451901-Impractical-Shoes
Rated: ASR · Fiction · Other · #1451901
Now, surely, these glass slippers weren't intended to be worn...were they?
The day dawned with a brightness that was almost forced. Or, maybe it only appeared so because of where I was when morning came. I had fallen asleep crying beside a large, empty bed. It didn't seem logical that I would do such a thing, in truth, but seeing as I had done so for the last week, well, then it begins to be a little bit clearer. The servants didn't bother me anymore. They went about their business and left me. I would attempt a normal life throughout the day in the large manor that was my home but evening would draw me to the fountain and from there to the bedroom of my father. He is gone now.

*

"Serafina!" the voice of my stepmother grated on my nerves with every passing day. Not because it was particularly unpleasant. Quite the opposite. It was melodic in its smoothness and you could hear the refinement of her upbringing. No. It grated on my nerves for a completely different reason.

"Yes, Stepmother?" I came into the sun-dappled drawing room with my hair tied back by an old piece of cloth from Father's favorite shirt. The gown I wore was of sturdy muslin, one I had taken from one of the servant girls a few months back. It was brown and ended just below my knees. I wore a tattered white apron and simple black slippers. My stepmother, on the other hand, was garbed in a thick, full black gown that was dripping with lace. She had her hair pinned up in an attractive bun that made her green eyes pop stunningly from her young face. Her full pink lips dipped slightly at the sight of me and her pert little nose turned up in disgust.

"Why, Sera! You are not ready, child!" she spoke with such refinement that I longed to find the one thing that would bring her to her knees in open-mouthed shock. I had yet to come close.

"Ready, Stepmother?" I asked, innocently enough. Truly, what did she expect me to do? Keep tabs on all that she expected of me?

"The Duke and his son will be here in less than an hour! Surely you remember that you are to go on a picnic with Roderick this afternoon!" Even as she said this, I saw that she realized that I did not, in fact, remember. "Well, go and change, dear. And quickly, please!"

I sighed. "What do I care if some Duke is coming to parade his son about? What about your daughters? Aren't they requiring husbands as of yet or is it only me you desire to pawn off on some unsuspecting boy?"

She tilted her head slightly. I never understood why she did that. It appeared to me that she was trying to get my words to fall out of her head so that she wouldn't have to recall them. "Please, Serafina."

I turned and trudged upstairs to the attic room I possessed.

*

Roderick turned out to be a delightful bore. I say delightful because he allowed me to ride his horse, though he held tight to the reins the entire time. I could have sent the horse into a gallop and lost him but I could only imagine the rebuking I would receive upon my return. Of course, I could never return. But, then there was the whole danger of being arrested for theft. Best to pacify the man and let him lead me around while he spoke of things I didn't bother hearing.

Stepmother and the Duke were awaiting our return. We had had a chaperone, of course, but for the most part he remained afar off and allowed us our time together. I could see Roderick's look of fear and knew that no marriage invitation would be forthcoming. I could see by the slight tightening of Stepmother's mouth that she knew it as well. The cordial farewells were uttered and I fled to my room and the safety therein before the door was completely latched.

*

"Father," I murmured as I lay on my bed and stared out of the large attic window. "Father, please forgive me of my impudence." I tilted my head and sighed. "Father, please forgive me of my heartbeat when yours has ceased. Please forgive me of breathing when you do not. Please...please."

This had been the prayer I'd prayed since I was eleven and my father had died. It had been seven years and I still prayed the prayer that I had believed, with all earnestness, would bring him back or take me away. Seeing as it did neither, I should have ceased but I did not. For reasons unknown, I repented of my life nightly and refused to live it daily.

Slowly, sadly, I drifted off to sleep at last.

*

"A ball!" Bella cried as she twirled in her peach gown of satin. It was ugly. She, however, was radiant, her full cheeks flushed with excitement, her long auburn tresses dancing about her slender face while her soft lips were curled into a radiant smile. "A ball, Sera!" she giggled and flashed me a paper that stated, simply, that the king was giving a ball. I quickly quelled the rush of excitement that coursed through me. I turned and sat in the wingback chair that had been my father's favorite. "A ball, Mother!" Bella called as her mother entered the room, still drowning in black fabric and lace. "A royal ball!"

"Indeed," Stepmother glanced at me as I toyed with the fringe on the chair. A night with them away would be exactly what I needed in order to prepare for a life far away. I could gather up the few things I desired, take some gold from the collection my father had left for me, and be gone before they knew I was leaving. I already knew the town I would go to and that I would be a seamstress, for I had practiced long and hard at my needlework. Though I could not sew a dress perfectly, the embroidered detail I could work would fetch a good price anywhere. "Where is Vivian?"

Bella stopped her twirling in her atrocious gown and frowned. "I'm not sure, Mother." The look Bella sent my way told me otherwise. She was fully aware of where Vivian was and was also fully intending not to tell. That meant that Vivian was with Markus, the butcher's son, and that they were out professing their undying love for each other.

"Sera,"

"Yes, Stepmother?" I answered without thinking, the response on my tongue, ready for whenever she spoke my name.

"What color of gown would you like for the ball?"

I wrinkled up my nose and prepared to decline but, I realized, if I choose a horrid gown and refuse to emerge in it, then I'd be excused from the ball anyway. "Peach." I said, without glancing at Bella's gown, knowing nothing ever looked good in peach. "Satin." I added for good measure and nearly missed Stepmothers raised eyebrow as I looked off toward the door.

*

The gown was not peach and was not satin. I could have refused to go because she didn't purchase me a gown of my own choosing. But, once I slid into the light silk and saw how the light blue brought out the sapphire hue of my eyes, I stared in disbelief at my reflection. It had a fitted bodice and a full skirt, with layers and layers of silk ruffle beneath it. Stepmother had fastened a black silk ribbon around my narrow neck as a choker and had pinned my golden hair up in an intricate bun, weaving the remaining black silk ribbon throughout my locks. She placed my mother's pearl earrings upon my ears and handed me white silk gloves that would extend to the middle of my upper arm. I held the gloves gingerly and tried to recall the prayer to my father so that the allure of the gown would fade and reality would sink in. What right did I have to attend a ball? What right did I have to feel so lovely? I took a step back from the mirror. Father...Father...forgive me...

"Sera," Stepmother's call shook me and the words fled as I faced her. She held out the shoes, clear with a low heel.

"Are those made of glass?" I asked in dismay.

"Yes," she nodded. I saw the trick then. She would have me wear glass slippers so that my feet were marred and cut when they shattered beneath my weight. I shook my head and backed toward the mirror.

"I don't want them," I said, my voice trembling. Father...Father...please forgive me of my impudence. Father, please forgive me of my heartbeat when yours has ceased. Please forgive me of breathing when you do not. Please...please...

"It is all right, my dear," Stepmother said as she moved closer. "Trust me."

The glass sparkled and I knew that they were crystal. They looked sturdy enough, rather lovely in the lamplight, but deadly, I knew. Should they shatter, what would happen to me? I'd be laid up in this house, unable to flee from the sorrow that held me here.

"Wouldn't Bella or Vivian like these moreso than I?" I asked, trying to stop the quivering of my lips.

"Bella and Vivian both have shoes to go with their gowns." Stepmother reached me and took me by the arm. She led me to the loveseat and sat me down. Gently, she kneeled before me and slid my stocking-covered feet into the shoes, one at a time. They were cool to the touch, even through the hose, but comfortable. "Mister Massey made them. He prides himself in making no two pairs that are the same. He had them shaped to the curve of your foot for comfort." She stood slowly and it was like a dark shadow rising before me.

"Why do you still wear black?" I asked suddenly. I would not stand on them. She would have to leave me soon to see that Bella and Vivian were prepared and then I would take them off. In my heart I felt a pang of sorrow knowing that no one but I and she would have seen me in the blue ball gown but I quelled it just as quickly as I had the excitement earlier.

She looked down at me, sorrow clouding her lovely features. Father was so young when he'd died, just past thirty, and so now was she. Too young to be a widow, I'd heard many in the village say. "Because I love him."

I was startled by her words. Not past tense but as though he still lived, or, in spite of his death, she still loved. Just as I did. "I do, too." I whispered, not aware that I had spoken aloud until she sat beside me and slid her arms around my shoulders.

And, despite all the coldness I had held inside about her, I allowed myself to rest in her arms.

*

The carriage had arrived and I had twirled through the house in the glass slippers, much to the envy of Vivian and delight of Bella.

"Aren't they lovely?" Bella cried as she twirled with me. I had to admit that the slippers were comfortable and strong, not so much as a hairline crack appeared with my steps. Vivian was dressed in deep violet velvet, a gown with a high neck and long sleeves while Bella and I both had curving necklines and low waists. Bella's gown was amber, bringing the hue of fire to her hair. Stepmother entered to tell us that the carriage was there and laughed at the antics of Bella and I. I felt complete joy, comforted that Stepmother was still in love with Father, the wonderful man we had both lost too soon.

"Come, come, girls," she said at last and Bella and she exited the main doors. Vivian took hold of my arm and brought me to a halt.

"What do you think you are doing, Cinderella?" she asked me, harshly, calling me the name she had so long ago.

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked.

"How do you think your father would feel about you going to a ball looking like that? Glass slippers indeed!" she cackled and slipped past me out to the carriage.

My spirit fell. What was I thinking? What right did I have? I sank to my knees in the grand hall, blue silk surrounding me. "Father, Father, please forgive me of my impudence. Father, please forgive me of my heartbeat when yours has ceased. Please forgive me of breathing when you do not. Please...please." I whispered as I shut my eyes.

I am not sure how long I knelt there before Stepmother found me. I was on my feet before I even realize that she was there and that she had caused me to stand.

"What is it, Sera?" I felt as though I was so close to leaving the world behind, so close to having my wish granted at last, and she had to come and save me. "Sera?"

"I have no right to be happy in this world. Father died for me! For me!" I shouted and I clung to her without realizing I was doing so. She held me and I spilled out the pain I had contained inside for so long. "I was the one who asked for the golden hair comb. He went on that journey just to purchase it for me. Then he got sick and died. It's my fault!" I sobbed.

"No, dear, no. It was not your fault that he died. He went to that town for you, for his love for you, yes, but you did not bring the rain that caused his illness. You did not make him sick. His last words were of you. He spoke of his love for you and his joy that I love you as I love Bella and Vivian for then he knew that you were safe." Stepmother whispered and my sobs slowed as I listened to her. Did she say that she loved me as a daughter? Could it be? After all these years, after all the pain I'd caused her, she still spoke of me as the one she did love, not once loved? I lifted my eyes to her face. "Goodness me!" she cried and held me away from her. "We will have to fix your makeup, dear." And she promptly began to do so.

*

She had sent the carriage away with Bella and Vivian when she had seen me kneeling on the floor. She didn't say so but somehow I knew that she was aware of Vivian's cruel treatment of me. I didn't step gingerly anymore in the glass slippers and we were soon on our way to the palace and the royal ball, that was well underway.

Stepmother tried to lead me to where Bella and Vivian were waiting to be announced but I just shook my head. I would rather observe, fade into the tapestries. It had been a long, emotional day and the thrill of coming to my first ball had me nervous on top of being emotionally drained. She squeezed my hand once, and then released me and I drifted off into the milling crowd.

There were dresses of every color and many maidens lined up, giggling and whispering, admiring the prince, who stood at the base of a grand staircase and had a parade of women brought before him. I didn't spare him a second glance but moved toward the large doors that led to the gardens. I had always been drawn to gardens, with their large fountains and their fragrant flowers.

The evening air was cool and the sky sprayed with stars twinkling merrily overhead. I breathed in deeply as I reached the railing and looked out at the awe-inspiring elegance of the royal gardens. I could hear water splashing happily in a fountain in the darkness and see a servant moving through lighting well placed lamps to illuminate the benches and pathways. I would spend the night strolling in my glass slippers and blue gown.

"Hello," it was a man's voice, deep and sultry, spreading warmth through me like liquid fire. I turned and looked up the most handsome man I had ever seen. His hair was thick and black, his smile soft and welcoming, his jaw square and strong. He had brown eyes and a sharp, aristocratic nose. He was taller than me, but not greatly so, with broad shoulders and was wearing a suit full of medals and decorations.

"Good evening," I murmured and moved toward the hall where the music had begun.

"Where are you going?" he asked, as he gently took my hand. "I came out here to meet you."

I was surprised, mainly by the jolt of electricity that had coursed through me at his touch, even through the fabric of my glove.

"Why?" I asked breathlessly as I allowed him to lead me down the broad steps into the lit gardens.

"Because you are beautiful," he said as he took me into his arms and began to dance with me. The last time I had danced was in the arms of Father as a mere slip of a girl. Dancing with this man was different, deliciously so! I moved without thinking and blushed under his scrutiny. "What is your name?"

I hesitated. I could live out this dream but better not to have reality crash in. "Cinderella," I said, before I could give all away in the heat of the moment.

"Cinderella," he murmured and I desired to correct him, to tell him my name was Serafina, just to hear it upon his lips. "I am Drystan."

With a purposeful smile upon his full lips, he led me deeper into the garden and we spoke of things that, amazingly, interested us both as the hours flew past. It was at the first chime of midnight that I again thought of Stepmother and all that had transpired before.

"Oh!" I cried out in alarm.

"What is it?" Drystan asked suddenly, his hand falling easily to the place where his sword was sheathed at his hip.

"It's midnight!"

"So it is, but..."

"I really must go!" I stood and pulled my hand out of his and headed for the palace.

"But wait! Why?" Drystan called out as he pursued me.

"The prince! I have yet to meet the prince!" I called out, knowing that I could care less about meeting the prince in all his self-righteous pomp.

"The prince? But, didn't you know?" Drystan stumbled on a root and I gained the ground I needed to flee up the stairs into the main foyer. I fled through the nearly silent halls and out the main doors before I even thought of the fact that I was running in glass slippers. This could only end badly.

As I trotted down the long stairs toward the road, I made a quick note of the absence of our carriage. I wondered if Stepmother had believed me to be home and had hurried home before me. She would be ever worried, especially since we didn't really speak all that much about my confessed guilt toward Father's early death. Would she think I ran away? My foot slipped out of my right slipper and I had already taken seven or so steps before I noticed. I turned back and thought to retrieve it when I saw Drystan and seven guardsmen on the steps in pursuit. I simply had to get home to Stepmother and assure her of my safety. I bid a sad farewell to the shoe and reached down for the other one before hurrying on my way, 'Cinderella' called out behind me from Drystan's lovely mouth.

*

Bella hummed tunelessly as she flipped through a novel without paying attention. Much had happened at the ball besides my being wooed by a man in the gardens. Apparently, Vivian had confessed her love of Marcus and Stepmother could not have been happier. Vivian, on the other hand, was angry since she had to remain at the ball regardless. Bella, on the other had, had discovered Roderick wandering on the terrace and they had spoken long into the ball about the color peach and how it was divinely wonderful and should be everyone's favorite color. Funny, but I couldn't recall him speaking of peach to me.

The Duke had sent an invitation to their mansion and Vivian had declined while Stepmother, Bella and I had made the short journey together. In that time, I was startled to discover how truly kind Stepmother was and how blind and selfish I had been all these years, not to mention the delightful joy that filled Bella's heart. Bella and I were friends quickly and, as news of her engagement spread throughout the village, she had already insisted that I be in the ceremony. Even now, she waited for Roderick and the chaperone to arrive to fetch her away to a picnic in the woods.

Stepmother sat doing needlepoint by the large picture window. Bella and I were able to convince her to wear a flattering gown of deep green velvet with bell sleeves. She was convinced only when I assured her that Father wouldn't want either of us mourning as we were, just as she had convinced me weeks before. She looked brighter, younger and freer than I'd ever seen her since Father's death.

Vivian moped on the lounge settee, her plum colored gown spread about her in false splendor. She had her dark hair tied up and her face without any makeup, trying to appear sorrowful and succeeding in looking sickly. She did nothing but pick at the edge of the seat and sigh occasionally, loud enough to echo in the silence of the room.

I wore a pale blue gown, light and airy, made of soft cotton, with thick sash of royal blue about my waist and in my hand I held the glass slipper from my left foot.

"I guess I shouldn't have left it, really," I said aloud and Stepmother smiled at me as she looked up from her work. "They really are lovely shoes and they fit like a dream."

"So you've said over and over again," Vivian snapped as she twirled her hair on her index finger.

"They are quite lovely," Bella agreed. She had tried it on but it had refused to fit over her heel. She placed the book down and stared at the slipper. "Why did you leave the other one?"

"I was being chased by the most persistent man," I said, wistfully. "I'm sure it was all for the best." I took the slipper and sat it on the dark mahogany table beside me. There was a loud bell chime and Stepmother rose, setting her work aside. She had given the servants the day off, knowing that Bella would be out with Roderick and Vivian would be moping about. It was a little treat she gave to those who remained in her loyal service so long.

She left the room and Vivian snarled at me. Upon Stepmother's return, Vivian was back to appearing bored and depressed. I had no idea why she was acting as she was. Stepmother had agreed to the engagement of Vivian and Markus without any remorse or cause to worry. It was altogether very strange.

Stepmother returned with a man bearing the royal crest and a stern look on his face. He looked just like one of the guards that we had walked past upon entering the palace for the ball. I reached for the slipper and hid it quickly.

"By royal proclamation, I am to search this house for one maiden by the name of Cinderella." he stated in a loud voice. Vivian shot off a short laugh and then glared at me so that the man believed I had laughed. I bowed my head contritely and ensured that the slipper could not be seen. "Is there a woman in this household by that name?"

"No," I said, and met the man's eyes. "Not to my knowledge."

"No," Bella said, genuinely confused.

"Why?" Vivian asked, her eyes narrowing as she glared at me.

"By royal proclamation..."

"I know. All right. No, there is no Cinderella here." Vivian snapped and stood to storm out of the room. She brushed past Stepmother and shot me another glare, one that informed me that she believed she had saved me from jail and that I would owe her forever.

"Does anyone here recognize this glass slipper?" he asked and he held my slipper's match aloft.

"Why! That's Serafina's slipper!" Bella called out in joy and excitement. "The one she lost on the palace steps!"

"Serafina?" The man seemed genuinely confused. He looked about him at all of us before staring hard at Stepmother. "Who is Serafina?"

"I am Serafina," I said as I stood. Stepmother came to my side and placed her arm around my shoulders as I drew out the other slipper and held it out in front of me. "And here is the other slipper."

"By royal proclamation-"

"I understand that I should not have run. I was so worried about Stepmother." I said softly, interrupting him.

"What is the meaning of this? Have you come to return the shoe or to torture this poor girl?" Stepmother asked.

"Why, I have come to fetch the girl!" the man said, aghast.

"Fetch me?" I asked and trembled slightly. Who had I run away from, exactly?

"Yes. To return you to the royal palace." He drew himself up proudly.

"I will take her." Stepmother said and I looked at her in surprise. "I will take her to the royal palace."

The man deflated a little, having lost the glory shortly awarded him.

"You will escort us, of course," I said and he smiled brightly. I wished at that moment that everyone in life were so simple to appease.

*

Bella had insisted that I put on the shoes, to prove to Eric, the royal herald, that I was, in fact, the wearer of the glass slippers. She, of course, had first attempted to put them on her own feet, and had failed miserably. So, clad in my gown with glass slippers once again on my feet, Stepmother, Bella and I rode in the carriage to the palace, with Eric leading the way.

It was somber in the carriage, though Bella did attempt to cheer me up and ease her mother's worries. It was an all too short ride before we drew to a halt at the palace steps. "I'm not worried." I lied.

"It will be all right," Stepmother insisted and then the doors were opened and we were all but rushed up the steps and into the palace. The hall wasn't as decorated as it was the night of the ball but it was more intimidating without the entrapments. We entered the throne room and there stood Drystan, pacing back in forth in a less decorated outfit but just as costly as the one the night of the royal ball. I hesitated, feeling embarrassed by my flight but seeing no escape as he paused in his pacing and met my eyes.

"Cinderella!"

"Uh, no," I said and he hesitated in his walk toward me.

"No?"

"No, your Highness," came Eric's voice from behind us.

"Highness?" I asked in shock.

"I tried to tell you," he said with a slight shrug.

"Her name is Serafina," Eric said loudly and the room murmured. It was then that I noticed the small crowd of nobles gathered in the hall.

"Serafina," Drystan murmured and my heart took flight.

"I longed to tell you when I heard how you said Cinderella," I said as he closed the distance and took my hands in his.

"Serafina, would you be my bride," he asked and the world faded away.

"Yes, Drystan," I said, "because even Cinderella's deserve happiness."

THE END
© Copyright 2008 DragonWrites~The Fire Faerie~ (mystdancer50 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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