Cinder X Bella ~ Thirty-Four!

- Bella -

Bella stood in front of the full-length mirror, the reflection showing a pale, weary ghost of a girl framed in an elegant, completely out-of-style dress. It was slate gray with intricate embroidery subtly hinting at an allegiance to a foreign kingdom. Overall, her appearance was that of an exhausted person who was perhaps attending the royal ball to create some anti-kingdom sentiment. “No one’s going to be sad seeing me leave tonight, that's for sure.”

Though she kept the thought to herself, simply smoothing the bulky gown over her hips—which were completely hidden by the severe cut of the fabric—it seemed her stepmother had some idea of what she was thinking. Matringa’s fingers dug into Bella's shoulder as she twisted a strand of hair into place just shy of painfully. “You will hold still, child. I don't care if you are fine looking like a slovenly mess when there are no guests around, but you certainly will not do so in front of the entire kingdom.” 

Bella didn't even bother to acknowledge the words, her mind almost completely numb from the exhaustion weighing on her. After the dress and hair was in place to her stepmother's satisfaction, Bella stepped into a pair of large, clunky shoes which would be better worn by a servant who needed to slosh through mud. With a hint of amusement, she realized they actually fit the dress quite well. A moment later, she was whisked out of the way as Matringa and her daughters checked their appearance one last time before leaving the way to the waiting carriage. 

Malvagio and Cattiva fussed over their gowns and hair, debating on the best way to sit so as to not wrinkle their gowns, their banter and excited laughter filling the warm afternoon air as they clambered inside. For her part, Bella woodenly stepped in and plopped down, simply glad for the opportunity to sit for a short while. She’d been up since just after midnight, working on all manner of tasks Matringa had listed out for her, which needed to be done before luncheon. 

Only after she had sat almost perfectly still, nearly asleep, did Bella realize there were hours and hours until the gates of the Spring Palace would open, not to mention the start of the equinox ball itself. Their destination was only a single hour away, even if they took their time. Though she knew better than to question Matringa’s choices, she still wondered why they would risk their appearance and comfort like this.

Half an hour later, the pieces started to fall into place: they weren’t going directly to the Spring Palace. 

Instead, the carriage driver, a greedy, greasy man hired by Matringa for his ability to handle the horses, drove them to a house just inside the gates of the city. Bella watched carefully, not saying a word as Matringa pulled a small package from beneath the wagon and handed it to the lady, who cracked the door open after it had been knocked on. 

No words were exchanged, only meaningful glances, then the carriage was away once more. Four more such stops occurred, each following the exact same pattern: Matringa grabbed a parcel, handed it to whatever woman opened the door, then they got moving once more. 

As the last of them was delivered, a strange tension in the carriage vanished, and the occupants relaxed considerably. Malvagio and Cattiva sank into their seats, speaking in a tone filled with obvious relief about their chances of enticing the Prince. Failing that, they discussed which Duca or Conte they would be willing to settle on.

Matringa herself was wearing a smile like a cat who had gotten the cream, her usual stern countenance softening as she allowed herself to look forward to the evening.

Only Bella became more tense, but she did her best to feign sleep instead of showing her suspicions. Something about those packages was gnawing at her, so she made sure to remember the route they’d taken to each of these abodes, burning the locations into her mind strongly enough that she would never forget where she needed to one day lead a troop of soldiers. 

Their delivery route had taken them almost all the way back to the original entrance of the city, having circled the entire population center over the course of several hours. Just before five o’clock in the evening, they joined the main thoroughfare, forcing their way into the traffic of hundreds of carriages going toward the same destination. Then, another hour passed with them moving forward ever so slowly, only then arriving at the visitors’ entrance to the Spring Palace. 

The carriage rolled through the grand gates, then up a winding cobblestone road, finally stopping at the base of an intricately carved marble staircase. Half a dozen footmen in bright livery stood forward, ready to rapidly assist them out of the carriage and get it out of the way so the next arrivals could escape their enclosed space. Mind wandering slightly, Bella stared at the stairs, wondering if the carving was purely ornamental, or if it had some other purpose, such as providing stable footing during rainfall.

“Stay close to me, Bella.” Matringa’s hand firmly grasped Bella's arm, pulling the young woman out of the carriage and causing her to stumble as her feet met the ground. “Come now, we have requirements to meet and appearances to maintain.” 

“By the system!” one of the footmen muttered, looking away in a hurry as Bella and Matringa both turned to stare at him. The Beast Singer let out a sigh of annoyance, knowing by his gaze studiously avoiding her that Malvagio’s ‘talents’ had come into play once more. As they began walking up the stairs, she could hear the man speaking in a low voice to one of his colleagues, “I know the Queen ordered all eligible women to attend, but, there’s gotta be a reasonable limit, right?”

As they reached the top of the stairs, crossing into the interior of the building, a wash of cool air flowed over them, and Bella let out a small gasp of surprise. Matringa rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Of course, they have ways of keeping their guests cool, Bella. Keep your mouth closed; you're attracting flies.”

Hundreds of people had already gathered in the grand antechamber, which by itself had more square footage than the entirety of Bella's home put together. Enormous doors which must lead to the grand hall were closed and wouldn't open until the official start of the ball that evening.

Even so, there was more than enough to capture all of Bella's attention. The room was created to impress visitors, and it most certainly worked on her. The vaulted ceilings shimmered with crystal chandeliers, the light of hundreds of candles sparkling across marble walls inlaid with gold. Servants swept around the room, holding platters of finger foods and chilled drinks.

Courtiers and nobles mingled in clusters, laughter and conversation filling the air to the point of turning into a constant droning roar. Matringa kept a tight grip on Bella's arm, steering her around the room with clear purpose. They paused often to exchange pleasantries with other nobles, Matringa’s smile as insincere as their polite comments about how ‘good of a person’ she must be to constantly make sure her late husband's daughter got out of the house to experience the world.

Not one of them spoke directly to Bella, avoiding her, as she had become accustomed. She played her part, remaining silent, appearing wistful and sickly as she was not-so-gently paraded around. Still, she made sure to keep her eyes moving, noting important people and especially exits. She counted the guards, checking their position as they either roamed through the crowd or remained stationed next to the doors where people could easily access them if an issue arose.

Malvagio and Cattiva had been given leave to walk around on their own, and they flitted from group to group, exchanging pleasantries and gossip as anticipation built: it was almost time for the ball to begin. Finally, the noise in the room died in a wave, the silence causing the tension to rise to a peak.

“Welcome, my loyal subjects, to the Spring Palace.” Queen Liora raised her hand, her voice clear and melodic as she addressed the hushed crowd. “Tonight, on the day of Prince Cinder’s birth, we come together to celebrate as a kingdom, a people, and a family! I look around this room, and I find nothing but beauty and elegance, and so… I have a special request.”

Bella felt a few mocking glances land on her as the Queen spoke, but she casually ignored them, knowing she wouldn't be here long enough to truly get upset over anything that happened. Instead, she memorized the Queen's face, making sure she would be able to recognize her, no matter what situation she was in later this evening—this person was one of the few with the power to directly advance her class, and she wasn't going to fail over something so simple as not being able to pick the Queen out of the crowd.

Dozens of servants stepped into the room, each holding large boxes filled with the exact same object. The Queen reached in, pulling one out and holding it in the air, “In the spirit of allowing my son to choose his future queen based on more than a glance, tonight will be a masquerade ball! You don't need to wear one… so long as you don't enter any farther into the palace, that is.” 

She paused to allow some polite laughter. “Anyone found not wearing their mask within will be asked to leave, unless you are only here as a chaperone. If that is the case, you may instead ask for a mark on your hand, but you will be automatically barred from so much as approaching the prince for the remainder of the evening on pain of removal from the event. That is… if you could even find him. Young ladies are not the only ones who were invited to the ball tonight, and all the young gentlemen shall be wearing a matching mask and outfit! Enjoy your night, and let the fun begin!” 

As she finished speaking, the crowd erupted into applause, and the doors were thrown wide open, revealing a huge area set up for dancing, dining, with dozens of private alcoves for discussion. Each of the private areas had a guard standing watch, both to ensure the people within were given privacy, as well as to act as an official chaperone so the overprotective mothers and fathers among the crowd wouldn't need to worry over impropriety.

The crowd began filtering in, receiving either a simple mask to secure over their face, or a mark on their hand which let off a surprising amount of soft light. The reason for the glow became obvious as they stepped into the room, only to find it insufficiently lit by candles. The chaperones stood out because of this, the magical stamp acting as both a notice for the guards as well as providing an appealing silver light, which added a veneer of excitement and magic to the proceedings.

“You have one hour, Bella,” Matringa hissed into her ear, though she maintained her polite smile. “If you do anything to draw undue attention to yourself, you'll find yourself locked in that hole in the ground you call a room so fast your head will spin. Maybe it'll spin right off! Understood?” 

Bella nodded mutely, answering after a momentary delay when she saw that Matringa wanted to hear a verbal reply. “Yes, Signora. Frankly, all I really want to do is try some of the food before I need to leave.”

Matringa stared at her a moment longer before slowly shaking her head. “All of this finery, enough wealth and drama to tell a thousand stories, and you are drawn to the buffet like a moth to the flame. I don't think I'll ever understand you, child. Away with you. Know I will be keeping watch. One. Hour.”

The orchestra struck up a lively tune as Bella plodded toward the food, her mouth watering as she got close enough that the delectable aroma overpowered the cloying scent of perfume filling the rest of the room. 

For a brief, blissful hour, Bella allowed herself to forget the weight of her stepmother's demands, the unpleasantness she was certain would start up again the next day, and the looming deadline of advancing her class. Instead, she stood next to the sumptuous buffet, reaching out for a dainty fruit tart and savoring the burst of sweet fruit and sugar mingling with a hint of lemon. 

After half an hour, she could hear people whispering and laughing at her, but she simply continued moving along the table. Scooping up a bacon-wrapped fig here, a handful of toasted almonds there, spending nearly five minutes chewing through a chunk of glazed ham. More than anything else, what drew people's eyes to her wasn't how she was enjoying each texture and taste—it was that she was eating at all.

Everyone else was either attempting to maintain an appearance or was simply too nervous to eat. Near the end of the hour, the simple treats were replaced with a dinner spread, and what she’d been sampling was put on platters and began circulating on the shoulders of servants. Only then did other people begin enjoying the food as well; but by then, Bella had already filled a plate with tender slices of roast duck, mashed potatoes, and several other hearty options she had been missing out on.

“Well, you've certainly solidified the opinion other people have been forming of you.” Matringa’s quiet voice signaled the end of the night for Bella as the stepmother began leading her toward the door. “I certainly hope you enjoyed gorging yourself and staining not only your dress but the memory of your father's good name.”

In a louder voice, Matringa spoke to Bella almost gently, “You did have fun tonight, didn't you, Bella? What nice people our hosts are. Yes, the cookies are very sweet. It's time to get home now. Let's go, dear!”

As the carriage came around, and Bella was pushed into it, she settled in for a relaxing ride home. The driver got them moving then poked his head in after the palace was well behind them. “Pretty fancy in there? Would it be worth doing again?”

“Yeah.” Bella let out a soft belch. “It’s a hard life, but someone’s gotta live it.”

The man let out a laugh, shook his head, and urged the horses on.