Princess Charming

Chapter 5: Elliot

"But I need time to change."

"There's no need to rush, you have the whole evening ahead of you."

"But you said... The fireplaces..."

"I gave you a job to do and you did it. That is your role here, in case you have forgotten. I never actually said that you could come with us if you did."

"But..." Elliot was at a loss as to what he could say next. Selene had her hand to her mouth to hide her laughter. How could they be so cruel?

"What would you even wear?" she asked.

"I still have some of my father's old suits, they might be a little big, but they're smart."

"And horribly outdated! I've seen the pictures!"

"Elliot, I have very high hopes for these balls. Do you really think I would ruin my children's chances by arriving with a cinder-boy? Get back to the kitchen where you belong; the ball is no place for you." With a final sneer, he turned on his heel and left the house.

"Enjoy your evening, Cinder-Eli!" Helios called out as he left behind him.

"We'll give the Princess your regards. I'm sure she'll love to hear how you're spending the night!" Selene added. She gave Elliot a wave then she, too, left.

Elliot was left alone in the entrance way, dropping ash on the floors he had spent the morning scrubbing. Tear tracks cleared a path through the dark smudges on his face.

In the six months since his mother had died, Elliot had asked his step-father for one thing. One tiny thing. But even that was apparently too much.

He had been a fool for even contemplating it. His step-father was right. What purpose did he have at the ball? Charmaine was looking for a husband, not a cleaner.

"I think it's rather rude to assume those two roles are mutually exclusive. Cleaners make excellent husbands too, you know. Particularly for people with a penchant for causing rather messy scenes when they get angry..."

Elliot wheeled round, shocked. He hadn't spoken out loud, which meant that the stout, portly man descending the staircase must have read his mind. But that was ridiculous. No one could read minds.

"No humans can read minds. Fairies are another matter entirely."

Elliot took a step back. Where had this man even come from? There was no way into the house from upstairs.

"Apologies, I have a weakness for grand entrances and this staircase was too good to resist. But please, just because I can read your mind doesn't mean I prefer doing so. I would rather have a good, old fashioned conversation any day. How about you try saying something out loud."

"Who are you?" The question came out as a whisper. The man was now at the bottom of the staircase, a few metres away from Elliot in the centre of the room. Everything about this man screamed different. His hair was the colour and consistency of candy-floss and was piled up on top of his head in a tower almost twelve inches high. He wore a gleaming silver suit that sparkled from his shoulder to his ankles, where shimmering trousers gave way to shoes that looked as though they had been made from glass. And when he spoke next, waving his hands flamboyantly, his gold eyes twinkled like bottled star-light.

"Well I'm your fairy god-father of course. I thought that part was obvious: the magical appearance, the mind reading... They told me you were clever."

"Who?" Another whisper.

"Sorry?"

Elliot cleared his throat. "Who told you I was clever?"

"Why, your parents of course; they were the ones who sent me to you." Elliot wondered whether he'd slipped and hit his head after his step-father left. He must be dreaming.