The day of the ball began far too early for my liking. I was mid-dream about pastries when Mother barged into our room shouting about posture and royalty and something about not humiliating the family name.
As if Drizella and I didn't do that accidentally on most days anyway.
Cinderella, to us—was already awake and somehow functioning like a normal human being. I suspected magic. Or caffeine. We didn't have caffeine yet, but if anyone could secretly invent it, it would be her.
"Sit up straight," Drizella told me, tugging my hair into a bun with practiced precision.
"I'm sitting," I grumbled. "It's my spine that refuses to participate in society."
On the chair beside me lay my ball gown. Soft purple with silver, airy, flattering… and completely impractical.
Drizella's gown is soft pink with gold. Drizella loves pink, so there is no need to maintain official Anastasia in pink and Drizella in green concept on.
Somehow, I choose a blue gown for Cinderella from her mothers collection. I bet she was a diva looking at her collection.
"I maintain," I told Cinderella as she tightened the bodice, "that dresses are a design flaw."
"It's one evening," she said gently.
"Yes, and wars have been lost in less time."
Drizella snorted from the mirror. "The prince won't even notice what we're wearing."
"Good," I declared. "Maybe I can negotiate for trousers."
Cinderella rolled her eyes fondly. "Breathe in."
I did.
"Not too much," she wheezed. "You're not trying to inflate."
Drizella meanwhile was doing witchcraft-level things with ribbon, pins, and flowers. Everything she touched looked intentional — delicate but clever, like a poem that occasionally insulted people.
"What do you think?" she asked, turning.
"You look like you might marry well and also commit tax fraud," I told her.
She beamed. "Thank you."
Mother yelled downstairs about etiquette as if she could force it into existence by volume alone.
Cinderella leaned close to us, voice barely a whisper. "She's distracted."
"Yes," I whispered back. "Distraction Phase One is working."
Drizella nodded like a seasoned general. "Phase Two begins when we leave."
Phase Two was, of course, The Escape. Cinderella would not be left behind tonight, no matter how much Mother insisted she had 'chores' or 'lack of connections' or 'no prospects except cleaning soot.'
Ridiculous. Cinderella deserved fireworks.
Cinderella helped me with the last ties of my gloves—simple satin, no frills, no nonsense. My kind of accessory. She then checked my hair once more, smoothing a stray curl behind my ear.
"You'll dazzle them," she said warmly.
"I don't want to dazzle them," I corrected. "I want to survive the evening without someone asking if I embroider for fun."
Drizella chimed in, "If anyone asks that, embroider them."
"Violence is not embroidery," Ella sighed.
"Context," I told her.
She laughed — quiet, soft, like bells wrapped in kindness.
But when she thought we weren't looking, she glanced toward the window, toward the palace beyond the trees, her eyes shining in a way that had nothing to do with the morning sun.
She knew — and we knew — that tonight mattered.
Before going down stairs, we helped Cinderella with everything that can't be done alone.
"Is the carriage ready? Is he here?" I asked.
"Yes, I have talked with him. He is hiding down the street waiting for the signal." Cinderella said.
"So here is the overview of the plan." Drizella stated. "After we leave, Cinderella will continue getting ready. And down the street we will throw a piece of cloth signaling him to bring the carriage to pick you."
We all nodded with the pre-made plan.
"Ella, you will be all on your own after we leave. So be careful. Okay?" I warned her wea worried face.
"Don't worry, I won't let your hard work go to waste."
We gave each other a smile and a group before we depart.
Before Mother returned, Drizella clasped Ella's hands and whispered, "We'll signal when it's time. Be ready."
Ella nodded, bold excitement flickering across her face like sparks catching.
"And tonight," I added, lowering my voice like a conspirator in a play, "you dance."
"With who?" Cinderella asked.
"Anyone," Drizella shrugged. "Preferably someone handsome. Or wealthy. Or both."
"Or kind," I added.
Cinderella smiled then — the soft, real kind. The kind that made the whole plan worth it.
The carriage rumbled outside, Mother barked for us to hurry, and our little world burst into motion.
As we swept down the stairs, skirts whispering and hopes tucked into satin gloves, I could only think of one thing:
The ball has no idea what's coming.
* * *
After the carriage left with the stepmother and sisters. Cinderella started getting as soon as possible. Fast but steady.
She was doing touch up when someone knocked on the door.
She brought out the last piece left to do, the glass slipper. Actually it's an old stiletto of Cinderella which is redecorated with crystals to like a glass slipper by her step sisters.
It isn't a professional work done but still a treasure for her since it is a hard work of her sisters.
"Ella, are you ready?" Ella gave a nod in response.
After getting ready, she rushed down and opened the door where Rupert is waiting with his carriage.
She locked the door and left with a little fear, hope and lots of excitement.
"Rupert, you remember the plan right?" Cinderella asked.
"Yes!! Hide your face all the time as much as possible — stay hidden after dropping you off — and be prepared to pick you up at the entrance exactly at midnight, 12 O'clock. And run away before anyone notice." Rupert said with confidence.
This gave Cinderella a mindful of relief.
"Thanks Rupert, for helping me."
"Don't worry, it's my way of thanking you for all those time you and your father helped us and allowed us to work under your father."
Meanwhile the carriage pick up its pace and is flying towards the palace.
* * *
By the time our carriage rolled into the palace courtyard, I had decided three things:
Corsets should be illegal.
Royal parties should start after midnight, when humans are at full dramatic power.
I should have eaten more pastries for strength.
Mother, of course, looked magnificent and terrifying — a combination few could achieve without years of practice or questionable magic.
"Remember," she said as the footman opened the carriage door, "smile politely, speak softly, and do not bring shame upon this family."
Drizella and I exchanged a glance.
We absolutely would.
Unintentionally, of course. Probably.
The palace itself was a cathedral of excess — gold, marble, chandeliers large enough to crush armies, pillars that looked expensive enough to offend the poor.
"It's very… shiny," I whispered to Drizella.
"It's aggressively shiny," she corrected. "I feel like I'm about to be interrogated by jewels."
Mother overheard and gave us the Look — the one promising lectures and disappointment later.
We behaved immediately. Temporarily.
We started walking the endless steps towards the ballroom.
Meanwhile I was worried about what Cinderella is doing now. Is she managing okay? If I'm not wrong, she must be on her way right now.
I recalled today's goal— keep the mother away from Cinderella, taste all the foods and enjoy the party if luck allows.
"All the best Cinderella! I hope you'll catch hold of your ticket to happiness today. Even without your fairy godmother's help. "
I whispered and continued walking with Drizella and mother.
-------------------------------------
SIDE NOTE: Well there is no fairy to help, only the people who genuinely love you. So treasure them. And I'm going to write the next chapter now cause my mind is full of ideas 💡. And I bet it will be interesting.😁
If you like my story then give it a star and share it with your friends, this will help me to keep motivated and write new stories.