Encrypted

Chapter Six

In the mirror, a woman of thirty stands, staring solidly back at me. Her skin is older, harder somehow, with wrinkles, her hair streaked with grey. I'm... It's me. That - that thing is me. It can't be - it surely can't. Except it is. Maybe this is a dream. If I wake up, all of this will be better. But I know, deep down that it's not. That this is real.

Ermelina runs in, eyes sad, but unsurprised. I try to hide my face, my hair. No one can know. What will Heracles do? Will he be angry?

"Ella. Take that shawl off your face. I can't help you if you don't trust me. Good." I raise my eyes up to her. Somehow, at some point in the last minute, Ermelina has become my salvation. As she makes my face, dyes my hair, I can't help thinking how ironic it all is. After destroying my life, she is now saving it. As she works, she explains.

"There are complexities to this that I don't have the time to tell you now. And more that I don't know." I nod, and she hisses. "Careful! I was your father's mistress." I'm not surprised. I had expected it, really. It wasn't like I thought Father was a saint. "When your mother found out, as of course she did, she was distraught. She took her own life." What? But - how? That - it's not true. It can't be. "When your father married me, I realised what had happened. I had suspected before. It was the only reason I said yes. To protect you. Your parents met at a royal ball much like the one you met your prince at. Too much like it, I think. She was bitter and angry when she died, and because of that, she wasn't allowed to pass on. That tree in the garden became her anchor. I knew, you see, that she would use the ball as a chance for revenge. There is a balance that she could not upset, but once you had accepted her magic, she took payment."

"But why would she want to do that?" Mother loved me. Didn't she?

"She was angry and upset. With your father, not you. But her way of revenge used you. I'm sorry, Ella. She was confused and angry, but that's no excuse." She did this to me. She made me like this. But...

"That still doesn't explain why you made me into your slave."

"You had to be invisible. As I said, the ball was her best opportunity for revenge, and so I had to stop you from going. Through whatever means available. You have to go to those balls - you get no choice. You had to be invisible." I nod, but my mind is a million miles away. It's all too much to process. A carriage draws up outside, and Ermelina's breath goes in. "I can't help you any more. I'm sorry it had to be this way, Ella. I had no choice." You could have told me. But instead, I reply in a monotone voice that she's done enough. That it's fine. I'll be fine.

It's with a growing sense of dread that I walk to the carriage, sit myself in the mountainous seats of satin and velvet. I barely notice the journey. I'm too nervous. Or terrified. Will he notice? Maybe he won't. You never know. It probably doesn't matter to him. He probably doesn't care. Maybe it doesn't matter. I'm still me. That's what counts. And I don't look that different. I'm sure it will be fine. Heracles wouldn't - he isn't like that. Even though I don't really know him.

The carriage's door opens, and I'm immediately swept out. I smile up at Heracles, safe in his arms. He lifts me up completely, carrying me up the million steps into the palace. Home. Not the place, but with him. Together. Laughing, he settles me gently onto a burgundy velvet sofa. I laugh with him, relaxed in his presence. Suddenly, he stops, sitting very still.

"What is it?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"My Ella, what happened?"

"What? Oh." He means... that. I explain, as best I can, trying to condense it. As I speak, Heracles's frown increases, and when I'm done, he sits there, staring thoughtfully into space. He's not angry though. Of course not. It's not my fault. 

"And there's no way to reverse it?" 

"No. At least - I don't think so. I think... my mother spent a long time planning this. I don't think she would make such a careless mistake." Heracles nods. 

"If that's the case, then shall I take you to your room? We can't sleep together until after the marriage, of course, but -"

"You're not angry?" I can't help blurting it out. Does he really not care? That he's about to marry me, and this happened, and he doesn't care enough to be angry? Does this mean he doesn't feel protective of me? No - I shouldn't think like this. I should be glad he doesn't blame me.

"Why would I be angry?" It's odd. I always hated it when Adelaide lied to herself, but now I get the odd feeling that I'm doing it.