Glass Slipper

Chapter 1: The Carriage

I couldn't believe it. Of all the young ladies in the world plagued with misfortune, how did I deserve a fairy godmother? Never did I think I would be rewarded with such an opportunity as going to a ball at the castle. Me? In a castle? I must be dreaming. Yet no matter how much I pinch myself, I still find myself bouncing in a carriage seat as we bump along the road. A carriage that had been a mere pumpkin only moments before, might I add. I stared down at my pale hands sitting in the plume of fabric and toole that was my skirt. I had never felt as beautiful as I did in that moment.

My dress was laden with so many crystals and diamond, it gave the appearance of being fluid, liquid diamond. The white skirt and bodice reflected shards of light with every movement I made. Silver trimming and ornate embroidery tastefully complemented the glittering fabric. I picked up the gilded hand mirror my fairy godmother gifted to me before I left and stared into the eyes of a reflection I did not recognize. Where I previously had bags and lines from repeated late night chores, my skin was fresh and smooth. Scars I had collected from clumsily injuring myself while working had vanished. My icy blue eyes looked itense and excited rather than giving off their usual tired and reserved appearance.

The one thing that was undeniably still "me" was my hair. No matter how worked to the bone I was, I'd alway find time to take care of my hair. Long, brown locks fell down to my hips, where they loosly curled at the ends. A glittering flower crown adorned my head to help give my hair a little decoration and pull the whole look together. I twiddled a diamond ring, butterflies wreaking havoc on my stomach. Just a few hours ago I was weeping in torn rags as I mourned the loss of my shot at attending the ball. Part of me thought it was better that I didn't go. I would be an embarrassment to the kingdom and merely humiliate myself had I tried to attend the ball in the sorry excuse for a gown I had tried to make myself.

"We're nearing the castle, milady." My stagecoach driver, previously a common rat, was proving to be an excellent gentleman and servant. He was kinder to me than my own stepmother and stepsisters. Perhaps he was grateful I saved him from a trap so that my fairy godmother could turn him into my human aid for the night. In fact, all of the animals seemed quite grateful to be allowed the opportunity to be human or equine. Field mice that once scurried at any slight indication of danger now stomped their hooves as sleek, glorious steeds. Simple garden lizards were now faithful servants, donned in extravagant attire that reflected similarities to my own gown.

No one could guess, based off appearances alone, that earlier that morning I was a mere servant in my own home, tasked with managing all of cleaning and caring of animals on our property. I say servant, but perhaps "slave" is a more accurate descriptor. If my mother were alive, she would not allow me to be treated the way I was. It was cruel fate that my beautiful, gracious mother had died. It was also cruel fate that the woman my father married hated me with a venemous passion. My father, whom I had not seen in several years, never stayed home long enough to notice my situation. He used to visit more often, but each trip away from us lasted longer and longer until he finally stopped coming home. I heard the things townsfolk whispered about our family. Whispers about how my father was completely distraught by the passing of my mother. How he cannot bear to live in our home because it is a constant reminder of the love he has lost. How I am a constant reminder.

It isn't too bad, though. I make my situation work and try to keep my sparse letters to my father cheerful and positive. Though the work did wear me down, I found small ways to keep myself going. For one thing, I had many friends. Yes, most of them were chickens. But they were my friends nonetheless! I looked down and smiled at myself in the mirror as I thought about my one very dear friend, Francine. She was our cook and was more of a favorite aunt figure to me than a common household servant. I loved my jolly, robust Francine. She was a true mother hen, helping me keep all the other servants in line with her strong personality and wise words. No finer cook existed in our small town. She would have just about died from happiness had she seen me dressed in diamonds whilst sitting in such an elegant carriage

I sighed and peeked out the small carriage window. Trees flying past took up most of the view as we tumbled along the long, winding road leading up to the castle. Looking up, I could see a small patch of the night sky peeping through the moving foliage. Stars glimmered and twinkled in a stoic blanket of the richest indigo. I've always loved the stars, but never could I have ever guessed one night I would feel as beautiful as one. Whatever magic my fairy godmother used for this transformation, it was incredible.

I had heard tales of magic and magical beings, but never had I ever seriously thought they were real. Yet there I was, sitting in plumes of stardust, proof that magic was very much real. And what of fairy godmothers? I believed they existed as a very young child, perhaps. But as an older child, I decided they were nothing more than folktale and fantasy. I thought closest thing we had to magic in our world was the elegant royal family. So beautiful, they were practically enchanted creatures themselves. Imagine my surprise when a short woman, clad in garments seemingly made of the night sky itself, appeared beside me and announced herself to be my fairy godmother! I was still in shock even as I sat in ny carriage surrounded entirely by proof that I was not dreaming.

Margot, another servant my family employs, used to slap my hand each time she heard me speak ill of the idea of magic. Oh how margot would have screamed for joy had she witnessed the revelation of my fairy godmother's existence. I could practically hear her voice in my head excitedly admonishing me for never believing in her fairytales. "Fairytales are for children," I'd always say. "If you want to live like you're in a fairytale, you must put in the hard work to raise yourself to that status." Margot would just huff and tell me I was far too serious. She'd say something like, "If that's how you really feel about magic, don't ask me for help if you ever find yourself on the wrong end of a curse!" Then we'd laugh, because we both knew her heart was far too big to deny help to someone in need. My entire life is the wrong end of a curse, I'd think.

Reaching into a hidden pocket in my dress, I retrieved my late mother's small, ornate pocket watch. That's enough reminiscing on the past. Nothing productive will come from wallowing in self pity, I thought to myself. I sighed and clutched the watch to my heart. It was barely past 8 o'clock in the evening. Fairy Godmother warned me that I only had until the last strike of twelve, midnight before the magic wore off. The thought of only having four more hours to enjoy all of this wonderful magic inflicted a small pang of sadness in my heart. I knew the dream had to come to an end. Every dream has at lease some sort of ending. However, I felt slightly repulsed by the thought of going back to my life before this night. My life as a mere slave in my own home, albeit a slave with good company in her fellow servants and friends.

Maybe the dream doesn't have to end this way, I thought. After all, this was no ordinary ball. This ball was being hosted by the king and queen themselves for their son, Prince Auguste. They invited all the eligible young bachelorettes in the land to this ball in hopes the prince would meet a dame he would eventually marry. The king was getting on in years, and soon it would be time to pass the crown and kingdom on to his only son and heir to the throne. Young ladies from across all ends of the kingdom would be attending this event. It's not every day you get a shot at snatching up the one and only heir to a whole kingdom. Everyone will be putting their best foot farward, as they should. Even my own step sisters were reciting compliments for the prince in their vanities that whole week leading up to the ball. Stepmother must have spent a fortune on the girls' gowns as well.

If I could only manage to impress the prince better than any other girl there, I might actually have a chance at winning him over. Once I become a princess, I could even move all my friends and fellow servants into the castle with me so they would never again have to wake up to yet another day with another long list of laborious tasks to accomplish. They would all enjoy a life of lavish luxury with me, all thanks to my fairy godmother giving me what I need to sweep the prince right off his feet.

That morning I had wanted to attend the ball just to bask in the surrounding extravagance. Now that I was extravagant, however, my priorities were shifted. Now I actually had a shot at impressing the prince. And that is exactly what I intended to do.