Cinderella

Anna

That day, Deirdre understood why the Bragg ladies had the custom of preparing themselves for the balls for many hours. When Gerard had left her chamber, she sat down once again, trying to read, however, she found herself unable to focus on reading. Although she had made such an attempt at least several times, finally, she gave up and put the book on the table, so she could begin pacing around afterwards, doing whatever she could do compose herself.

And yet, she could not. Her thoughts kept rushing towards the story she had heard from Anna. She wondered whether it was true; but why would the maid have lied to her? Besides, the prince had not refuted anything – how much had he heard?

Deirdre exhaled, closing her eyes, then took yet another deep breath and hid her face in hands. For a moment, she stopped, feeling her whole body trembling. She was terrified of looking Gerard in the eyes now. She was not sure whether she had not heard too much; when he had been saying goodbye to her, he had not seemed to be angry with her, but once he had thought it through, would he not come to the conclusion that she had turned out too intrusive?

With a soft sigh, she sat down on the bed. The tissue paper covering the gown rustled quietly from her motion. Deirdre glanced over at the beautiful attire once again and smiled involuntarily, touching the delicate fabric.

He wanted her to wear it. He had not given her this gown for it to become dusty but so she could show herself at the ball in it; if she put it on that night, for certain, the guests would be easier to convince that she was a proper candidate for the prince's wife... perhaps she would even gain their liking?

Yet it was not the most crucial issue at the moment. Biting her lips with hesitation, she moved the tissue paper aside. She could imagine Gerard choosing the attire she would wear for one of the most important occasions in her life. Had he come up with the idea of it himself? If he painted and his soul was one of an artist, it was not hard to see that with the eyes of imagination...

She knew that there was still lots of time till the beginning of the ball, but she had already become quite restless. If she was to look like a princess that night, she would need to take care of that, and it could take quite a long time. Finally, she stood up and pulled the string of the bell, calling Anna.

The girl arrived a couple of minutes later, slightly breathless.

"Have you heard, my lady," she asked once she had closed the door, "that hubbub? Soon, everything'll be ready. I swear, it's going to be the most splendid feast of all! The king himself would not be ashamed of this!"

For an unknown reason, on Deirdre's cheeks appeared dark blush which was immediately spotted by Anna's eyes; a wide smile bloomed on her lips but Deirdre did not let her comment it.

"Have you got into any trouble because of me?" the lady asked.

"I?" Anna was surprised. "Ah, because I told you the story? Oh, God forbid! I only got several lashes of the birch, but it was very gentle, I swear." Here, she stuck her hands in front of herself; on her dark skin, there were hardly noticeable streaks. "I earned that. I shouldn't have said anything. I promised to be as quiet as a mouse."

"I forced you to do so," answered Deirdre. "You should have said to them..."

"No, no, no. You have not forced me to do anything, m'lady. And even if so... I could've always bitten my tongue off, right?" Anna laughed, and seeing Deirdre turning pale, she quickly explained that it was "but a joke".

For a moment, there was complete silence, and the maid nervously kicked her heels, as though wondering whether she was allowed to leave now, or if she was still necessary there. Her greenish eyes were focused on Deirdre's face, just as unsettled as the maid's face.