The night of the ball, we’re excited to see the play, though I’m anxious, too. While Robyn still believes Rowena is guilty, I have doubts, and I’m wondering if we’re going to be spending the night with the true killer.
Zelle does my hair, and Matilda my makeup. She’s decided she doesn’t want to go to the ball, and since I didn’t score an invite for her, I’m relieved. She and Odin have made other plans—I’m not sure I want to know what those are, but at least I won’t have to keep an eye on her.
McAlister sits on my dressing table, Belle twirling in front of the full-length mirror in one corner, looking for the world like she was born to the garnet gown and matching shoes she’s chosen.
Zelle puts the finishing touches on my hair, adding a few sparkling butterfly pins, and Ruby is completely ready. How she did it so fast makes me wonder if she used a bit of magick.
I’m still in my robe, the Zelle's borrowed dress laid out on my bed. I’ve had to chase Savannah off multiple times, and I’ll probably be wearing more cat hair than satin tonight.
Matilda is trying to do my lashes, but I keep blinking, smearing the midnight black mascara under my bottom lids. She’s so frustrated, I finally hold out a hand. “Let me take care of this,” I suggest.
Using magick, I wipe a hand past my face. The smeared mess disappears, and long, lush eyelashes sprout, a tasteful dark fringe around both eyes.
Matilda sits back, the mascara wand in one hand, the bottle in the other and squints at me. “Why in Valhalla’s name didn’t you do that in the first place?”
The loss of her magick grates on her nerves, and that’s why I don’t use mine much around her, especially to replace somethings she’s doing manually. “How do I look? Do I pass?”
She huffs and returns the wand to its plastic holder. “Stunning. You might think about wearing makeup more often.”
“Why would I do that?”
She playfully slaps my arm at my sarcasm. “Get your dress on.”
I stand to grab it and she waves me off. “Not that one.”
“That’s the one I picked to wear. Zelle agreed, it looks good on me.”
She points a finger in the air. “Wait here.”
As she disappears through the doorway, my sisters and I exchange a glance and a shrug. “What is she up to?” I whisper.
McAlister chitters from his cage, as if he’s in on it. I pull him out and give him a scratch, holding him up to peer into his eyes. I’ve tried connecting with him psychically a few times, but what I get back always sounds like radio static. He gets an extra biscuit tonight, made with his favorite fruits and veggies, along with a few crushed pieces of high protein cat food—don’t tell Savannah—and I hold one in my fingers to let him chew on it. His tiny paws grip the biscuit as he munches away.
Matilda returns with a large box wrapped with a wide red velvet ribbon.
“What is that?” I ask.
With a smirk, she puts it on the bed. “I don’t ask for much, but do me a favor and wear this.”
She unties the ribbon and my sisters gather round. Before our eyes, a beautiful gold ballgown emerges.
The satin sparkles, the thin straps appear made from crystals.
The dress boutique—this was one I coveted but wouldn’t touch because it cost a fortune. It was way too much for me, period—too much money, too much glamour, too much everything, including that skirt!
I freeze, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but knowing I’ll feel awkward and completely out of my comfort zone in the stunning gown. I’m not like Ms. Starling—I hate calling attention to myself. “I don’t know what to say, Matilda.”
Belle oohs, and Ruby smiles. Zelle steps forward, takes the dress from our godmother, and holds it up to me. “It’s perfect! How did you know Cinder loved this one?”
Matilda gives us a chiding regard. “I know everything.”
More like, she called Mrs. Grimmly and asked.
I touch the shimmering folds that remind me of a golden wedding gown, the satin soft under my fingers. The weight of it is luxurious. A dozen buttons run down the back of the corset; the full skirt goes to the floor. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,” I admit.
“Put it on,” Matilda demands. “Trust me, it will fit.”
That tells me it has magickal properties. If she could still do magick, I’d suspect she’d enchanted it. Since she can’t, I wonder who did.
My sisters are watching me, all of them with huge grins and encouragement in their eyes. They are as surprised as I am, so that only leaves Uncle Odin.
Sweet man.
“I don’t know…” I bite my lower lip. “It’s so extravagant.”
“Mom would love to see you in this,” Zelle states.
Ruby and Belle nod in agreement.
Hard to argue with the Mom card.
Since my normal attire is worn jeans and casual t-shirts, I feel like I’m carrying liquid gold as I take the gown into the bathroom. An odd sense of elation fills my chest and I wonder what it will look like once I have it on.
Matilda knocks at the door and peeks in. “You might need help getting that on.”
She’s right. Between the weight of the fabric, several layers of tulle under the skirt, and my now shaking hands, it takes both of us to get me into it. The buttons are for decoration, and thankfully, it has a side zipper.
The satin and silk combination hugs my body as my godmother zips me in. I discover pockets and sink my hands into them, testing their depth. Functional and fashionable, I think. Maybe this will work.
In the mirror, I’m only able to see the top half of the dress, but it’s breathtaking in its sheer simplicity and cut. A classy smattering of crystals lines the cleavage, demur and yet breathtaking. The nearly glowing material is like a soft glove, embracing me in a gentle hug.
“You look dazzling,” Matilda says, touching the sparkling beadwork around the waist. “Your mother would definitely love this on you.”
My eyes tear up and I hug her. “I’m completely blown away.”
When I step out from the bathroom, my sisters gasp in unison. Their eyes are big, and so are their smiles.
For the first time in my life, I feel feminine and very elegant as I sweep over to the full-length mirror. From the top of my coiffed head to the bottom hem of the dress puffed out around me, I’m completely transformed.
Even my bare feet feel dignified and graceful.
“Shoes.” Zelle snaps her fingers, as if reading my mind. “You should wear Mom’s.”
My knee jerk reaction is to say no. I can’t wear those, not the ones hiding in the back of my closet. They were her wedding shoes, and they should be preserved, especially since they were the last pair she wore.
But when I turn to face the women around me, I see a spark in their eyes that reminds me of her. Happiness, joy, love.
I caress a hand down the skirt. “Shouldn’t we keep those shoes where they are?”
Matilda takes my hand. “Your mother would be so proud of you, and happy to see you actually enjoying yourself for once. I know how hard you work to take care of this family, Cinder, and all of us appreciate what you do. Just tonight, can you be a young woman going to a ball in a magickal dress? A breathtaking woman, in fact, honoring her mother by wearing a pair of her shoes?”
“Have fun for once,” Ruby encourages.
My other two sisters nod, each of them stepping forward to hug me and echoing Matilda’s wish.
“Okay,” I relent. “I’ll wear the shoes.”
Overwhelmed by emotions, several tears slip down my cheeks when I pull on the wedding shoes, the straps trimmed in a gold thread that matches the dress. Once more I stand before the four women in my life who mean everything to me.
Belle makes me twirl in a circle, and I can’t help but laugh. The last time I acted like this was so long ago I’ve forgotten how it feels. From his cage, McAlister makes a noise that sounds like approval.
A few minutes later, my sisters are ready as well, each of them dressed stylishly, and excited to get to the theater.
Unexpectedly, Nonni sticks her head in the bedroom door and sucks in a breath when she sees the four of us. Her hand goes to her lips and her eyes glisten. “Oh, my girls.”
She moves to stand next to Matilda, the two of them sharing a knowing smile. “Sometimes I forget you’re all so grown up.” Nonni wipes at the corner of one eye. “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful. I hope you don’t mind, but I had to sneak over and see you before you go. Poppi wants a picture.”
My paternal grandparents helped raised us, along with Matilda and Uncle Odin, after Mom and Dad died, and we couldn’t do without them. We model, adding a goofy one in among the more formal poses, and then Nonni kisses each of us on the cheek. She’s wearing a gold scarf around her neck and unties it.
Shaking it out, she drapes the sheer fabric around my shoulders like a shawl. “Have a great time. I expect all of you over for Sunday dinner to tell me every single thing that happens tonight, promise?”
The warmth of the shawl feels like home. We agree and I hug her tightly before we file downstairs. As we walk out to get in the van, we’re surprised to find a carriage waiting for us. Finn jumps out to open the door, dressed in a tuxedo.
My breath lodges in my lungs.
“Your carriage awaits, m’ladies,” he says, giving us a deep, sweeping bow.
“Where in the world did you get this?” Belle asks.
“Leo Kingsley,” he announces. “He happened across this baby a couple of weeks ago and didn’t know what to do with it.”
“Is that Jasmine and Buttercup?” Ruby wants to know, stepping closer to eye the horses.
“I borrowed them from your grandparents.”
Nonni waves at him from the back porch.
He winks at her, then at our godmother. “It was Matilda’s idea.”
“You?” I ask.
She shrugs self-deprecatingly. “You can’t go a fancy ball in that old thing.” She hitches a thumb over her shoulder, pointing at the van.
This night keeps getting better. I’m delighted at this over-the-top act and can’t keep my eyes off Finn. “What a wonderful surprise.”
As my sisters climb in, Finn takes my hand and pulls me aside. He stares into my eyes, the night sky above him shining with stars. “‘If I could write the beauty of your eyes, and in fresh numbers number all your graces, the age to come would say, This poet lies; Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.’”
My knees go weak. My eyes well up again. “Are you quoting Shakespeare?”
The horses stamp and snort, ready to go. He nods. “Are you crying?”
My voice is barely above a whisper. “My father used to say that to my mother.”
He wipes the tear escaping from my eye and smiles. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
I draw the shawl tighter around my shoulders, the chill night air nipping at my skin. “Thank you for inviting me.”
He helps me into the carriage, and a moment later, the driver clucks at the horses and away we go.