Glass Slippers [1st Draft]

31. Two Years Later

"If I ever get married, I'll wear trousers, not a dress. I could get married dressed in a potato sack in the middle of the palace's pasture with only the cows for guests, for all I care. Heavens knows they would still be smarter than most of the people in court," Harriet declared, causing Mrs. Landon to fight back a laugh at Harriet's usual opinionated statements.

She agreed with her about the people of the court but couldn't help but shake her head on the matter of a dress. That was what Harriet was saying now, but Mrs. Landon was quite sure she would change her mind once she got older. Even tomboyish girls sometimes liked to wear dresses, and especially so on their wedding day. Mrs. Landon looked down at the ginger-haired menace who was still sprawled out on the bed.

"Would you be up to a compromise?" Mrs. Landon asked, eyeing Harriet until she nodded. "What if you were able to get rid of one of the petticoats and replace it with a pair of trousers? That way you will already be wearing them by the time the wedding is over."

Harriet seemed to be thinking about it before she finally nodded reluctantly. Mrs. Landon had to hold back a sigh of relief.

"Wonderful, make sure to be ready before the ceremony begins. I'll send Marie to help you get into your dress, and Harriet, please do not spill any more wine on Prince Leopold," Mrs. Landon pleaded. It was only a matter of time before she drove the gentleman insane, even if he was too polite or maybe even smitten with the girl to say so.

"What? I didn't spill wine on him, I simply tripped over a rock and my hand slipped," Harriet responded, staring at Mrs. Landon defiantly.

"You tripped over a rock and your hand slipped, twice?"

"No, just the first time. The second time I simply went around one of the corners too fast," Harriet explained, a hair too quickly for Mrs. Landon's liking.

"Yes, but that begs the question of why you had the wine in the first place."

"I was only trying to help," Harriet answered, looking up at Mrs. Landon far too innocently.

"Mind you, dear, I was not born yesterday, I know a prank from you when I see one, and you had better hope that I won't see one until the wedding is over," Mrs. Landon warned, before turning to leave the room when she saw that Harriet had gotten the message.

She closed the door behind her and started to walk towards her biggest responsibility of the day. Other servants bustled past her, some nodding at her while others merely gave her a glance. In the time that she had been working in the palace, she had somehow earned the respect of all of the servants and maids, and some of them had become good friends, especially the cook.

There wasn't a day that went by when they weren't talking about something and Mrs. Landon was pleased to have a friend from her own generation with similar ideas to confide in. She hadn't had something like that for a while, not since her sister left to work at the finishing school, and the cook, Beatrice, was as wonderful as they came.

Mrs. Landon couldn't help but notice how the halls of the palace were lined with floral decorations, and everything had been scrubbed within an inch of its life. In short, the palace was cleaner than it had ever been, or rather cleaner than it had been since Harriet had gotten there.

Mrs. Landon picked up her pace a little as she glanced at a clock on a wall as she passed it. It would be time for the wedding very soon. Eventually, her feet brought her to stand outside the door of her destination, and Mrs. Landon hurriedly fixed a piece of white hair behind her ears before knocking.

"May I come in?" She asked as she knocked, and then opened the door when she heard a quiet affirmative.

Walking into the room and closing the door behind her, Mrs. Landon turned to look at the only occupant in the room. Sunlight streamed through the large window and Mrs. Landon couldn't hold back a smile as she saw her.