Masks
She watched her beautiful stepsister gracefully step into the royal carriage, followed by her lover - the prince. She did not know his name, and had forgotten Cinderella's a long time ago. She expected it to be a beautiful flowery name, like Lily, or Rose, or Angelina.
Those were her favorite names. She had often dreamed of having a name like Lily, Rose, or Angelina. She would write the names on a piece of parchment delicately, and carefully, each letter as flowery as the next. She even boxed the first letter of each name, and drawn flowers, and vines with leaves. She always thought each name looked lovely, and so did her mother.
But ever since they moved in with Cinderella and her father, things had changed. Her mother had begun to bond deeply with her newly acquired stepdaughter. She had seen the two laugh, and play, and read together, when they thought they were alone. Whenever she entered the room with those two, her mother would always snap at the pretty girl, pretending to loathe her with all her might. She herself had played along, but deep down inside, she knew she was not loved anymore.
Her sister was a different story. Though she was older, and supposedly more mature, she believed everything she saw. She ordered Cinderella around, and spent hours in her room adorning herself with beautiful dresses decorated with delicate lace, frilly bows, and of course, puffed sleeves. Her mother was happy about this - all she had to do was laden her with material items, and then, for a few glorious hours, she could spend time with darling Cinderella.
She felt her eyes brim with tears. This went unnoticed - everyone simply assumed they were tears of joy. But they were wrong - they were tears of sadness. Feeling pathetic, she wiped her eyes on her bare, pale skin, and watched the royal couple ride away.
Cinderella had turned, and waved to her. It was a farewell wave, only out of politeness. Then, they were gone.
She turned, and began to walk down to the house she had lived in. There was no fancy carriage for her; she was small, and unimportant.
She remembered the ball. Oh, how she loved that ball! She remembered the ballroom clearly, as if she went merely yesterday. The doors were made of the finest wood, dark and grand, and polished, especially for the event. A large table covered in a fine silk cloth held delicate edibles; small olives, cubed cheeses, pastries of all sorts, sweet delicate things she had no name of, and several hams. Though they were grand, what she loved best of all at that table were the fancy cocktails, and other drink. Her sister had gone for the strong, rich red wine, and she had poured herself some champagne. Oh how it rolled in her mouth, her tongue savoring its bittersweet taste, until finally swallowing it down. It was heaven.
She remembered dancing to the beautiful music the orchestra provided, swaying and so, showing her beautiful dress made just for the occasion. It was a pale, pale yellow, lace ends, and a tight, tight waist. She had received many compliments that night, despite her not so pretty face.
All was fine until she came. Cinderella. She had not known it was she at the time, but she had ruined it. There was no doubt it was her own mother's working; you could see the delight dancing in her eyes. She had to admit that night she looked beautiful. No, more than beautiful. Dazzling, innocent, and sweet.
She had a beautiful dress, oh too beautiful to imagine. Her slippers were made of glass, and her hair was done in the most fashionable way - propped on top, with strands falling down in her face. She had won the prince's heart immediately.
She opened the door, and crept inside. The house was empty. Good. She needed time to think.
She walked over to a hard, wooden back chair, and propped her head on her two hands, staring at the wall in front of her.
She remembered she had felt a pang to her chest when she saw the look in the prince's eyes. Lust, eagerness, and admiration. The prince was a fool. He had fallen for her looks and beauty, not her personality. She knew Cinderella well; she was vain, and greedy. But she did not show these qualities to her mother, or the prince. Instead she put a mask on, and showed she was caring, sweet, and gentle. But in reality, she was none of these things.
Familiarity breeds contempt. That was a popular saying, and it was perfect to use in this circumstance. She knew Cinderella had acted caring, sweet and gentle, just so she could marry the prince. She knew she would continue, until the prince trusted her well enough. But she knew that soon, Cinderella's mask would break. The prince would fall. And so would Cinderella.
Her life was not perfect, and she knew that. In fact, it was far, far from perfect. She wasn't even happy. But she was not Cinderella. She did not have to endure the snotty prince's attempts at flirting, despite the fact they were married. She did not have to push the other pretty girls who had won the prince's heart aside. She did not have to suffer emotional breakdowns that most royal members had to. No she did not.
But she had to suffer pain that the average person endured. Perhaps the pain she herself had to endure was too much for her, because she closed her eyes, and fell in a slumber, not knowing if she would ever wake up.
Breaking News!
The Prince of the Royal Kingdom has mysteriously been murdered. His body was found on his bed, with a sharp knife pierced in his heart. Witnesses claim that the knife was a wedding present given to the newly wed Princess. Though she denies it, charges have been made against her, and she will be sentenced to death tomorrow, at twelve o'clock.
Fin.
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