The messenger was rather a ridiculous-looking fellow, with his garishly purple stockings and his fluffy hat. His apple-red cheeks and heavy breaths also caught Ella's attention, and she couldn't help but wonder why he was here as she dusted the antiques lining the fireplace.
"A message from the king and queen!" bellowed the man. Well, perhaps the word bellow wasn't the most accurate; to give a proper bellow, one has to have a deep voice. Ella smiled to herself, ducking her head so her stepsisters wouldn't see; the twosome were standing in front of the messenger in the foyer, their eyes wide and bright with eagerness.
"A message from the king and queen--how splendid," Ciela breathed, clasping her hands to her heart.
"What does it say, what does it say?" cried Anemone, jumping up and down like a little child.
The messenger cleared his throat and brandished a cream-colored parchment. Letting it unroll dramatically, he read, "Their Royal Highnesses, King Leonard and Queen Sophiana are delighted to announce the coming-of-age ball of their son, Prince Alexander Philip Duke Leonard William the III, this fortnight. All citizens are invited to attend--and eligible young ladies are highly encouraged to." He waggled his eyebrows. Ciela and Anemone giggled; Ella pretended to choke herself on a feather while none of them were looking.
"Thank you, sir," Ciela purred in breathiest voice. "We look forward to attending."
The messenger bowed, wound up his scroll, and marched out of the door, flanked by two members of the royal guard.
The minute the grand double doors had closed, Ella's stepsisters began to squeal and jump up and down.
"The prince!" screamed Anemone.
"Did you hear what that man said?" shrieked Ciela. "All the eligible young ladies are encouraged to attend, which means..."
"THE PRINCE IS PICKING A BRIDE!" Their shout shook the rafters.
Ella rolled her eyes and, sweeping her duster over the last ornament, left the room as quickly and quietly as possible. She was sick of their gushy talk, though the true reason for her discomfort was something she hardly wanted to admit, even to herself.
She wanted to go. And, if her situation were in the same place it had been a few years ago, she would be able to. But it wasn't, and there was no way on earth she could now.
Ella allowed herself a couple moments more of pity before brushing it away. She opened the back door briskly and set off for the chicken coop. There was no use for this gloominess. She couldn't dwell in the past, or she'd be hopeless. She had grown quite skilled at taking life one day at a time, and she wasn't about to let a silly ball ruin that.
A silly, wonderful, beautiful ball...
Ella paused outside the chicken coop to rap her head against the wood a couple of times. She was sick of these thoughts, but she could think of no way to dispel them.
"What an interesting pastime, clonking your head so. A new chore the old hag has put you up to, I presume?"
Ella grinned. Correction--she could think of one way to dispel her mopey thoughts.
"My stepmother is not an old hag," she said primly, lifting her forehead away from the wood but not turning around to face her friend. "She is, and I quote, a "true lady.""
"Ah, yes, now that you mention it, I do recall someone saying that once. I believe it was the true lady herself." There was a thunk as Kam leaned against the chicken coop next to her. "So. What was all that clunking really about?"
Ella leaned against the coop as well and tilted her head sideways so she could see Kam's impish grin. "Something silly."
Kam spread out his hands and huffed an errant brown curl out of his eyes. "Silly is my middle name."
Ella grabbed a small handful of kernels out of the feed bucket she carried and flicked it at him. "Not this kind of silly." She stepped away from the wall. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to attend to."
Kam, of course, followed, digging his hands into the feed bucket and spreading the small golden kernels over the ground. A couple chickens nearby made their way over and began to peck at their breakfast.
Ella and Kam continued to toss the feed, making their way to the fence on the opposite side of the chicken pen. When the bucket was empty, they hopped on and watched the chickens strut about the yard. Their clucks and caws rang against Ella's ears.
"You know, they kind of remind me of my stepsisters," she said before thinking. Kam laughed.
"Are you just now making this connection?" he asked, eyes twinkling.
Ella smirked. "You shouldn't let me say things like that. I'll get caught one of these days, and you know what that means."
Kam saluted and said, "Yes, milady," although a shadow flickered in his eyes at her implication--after all, her stepmother didn't exactly like Ella, and she wasn't afraid to punish her severely for even the slightest mistake. He cocked his head upon seeing her expression. "Does this newfound realization have anything to do with your "silly thoughts," perchance?"
"It's--" Ella paused. She had been about to say, It's not a newfound realization, but she really did need to check her tongue. Not that what she was about to say was any more complementary, but Kam wouldn't relent until he'd heard what she had to say. "A message from their Royal Highnesses came today."
"Oh?" Kam raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"It was about the prince."
"Oh," Kam said. She could tell that he knew where this was going.
"Yes. It seems that the prince's coming-of-age ball is in a few days." She fluttered her eyelashes and said in Ciela's breathy voice, "They say that he is to find his bride there, and all the eligible young ladies are encouraged to attend." She smiled. "Let's just say that my stepsisters were...a little excited. And loud."
Kam laughed again. He hopped off the fence and began to strut around the yard with his arms bent like chicken wings, crowing, "The prince! He's having a royal ball! I'm so excited! Let's go get fifty new dresses for the ball! We'll change every five minutes so he can see all of them! Did I mention I'm excited? Did you know that the prince will be there?" He ended his imitation with a rooster call that roused the real rooster into adding his voice to the hullabaloo. A couple of servants walking down the path nearby cast them a strange look, and Ella fell off the fence, she was laughing so hard.
Kam walked over, grinning, and plopped down next to Ella on the ground. "Don't hurt yourself."
Ella jabbed him in the stomach. "You're positively evil."
Kam leaned back against the railing, looking not at all repentant. In fact, he looked rather pleased.
"So. A ball." He snorted and grabbed a piece of grass, then stuck it in his mouth. "What a waste of time. All the frills and the crowdedness and the people who would rather exchange pleasantries for hours on end without once engaging in a real conversation." He paused, thoughtfully. "Of course, there is the food. I suppose that's a legitimate reason to go."
Ella didn't laugh. She didn't want to admit it, but his words stung her.
Kam glanced over at her questioningly. "What?"
"Nothing," Ella said, flashing him a smile. He sighed.
"That's about the worst excuse of a smile I've ever seen. Come on--what did I do?"
Ella trailed her fingers through the dirt. "I should really be going. If they see me doing nothing, they'll be angry."
Kam plucked the blade of grass from his mouth; casually, he reached for a sprig of tickle weed by his knee. "I swear to you, Ellie, I will resort to drastic measures."
Instantly Ella was on guard. She stood. "You wouldn't dare," she warned him.
A sly smile traveled across his face. He stood, too; she danced back a few steps.
"Kam, don't. I'm not in the mood."
"You're never in the mood for this. That's the point." He waggled his fingers menacingly. Ella refused to smile. That would only encourage him.
"This is ridiculous." She whirled on her heel and began to march back for the house. Mistake. Instantly Kam seized her around the middle and assaulted her face with the tickle weed, causing her to sneeze and laugh. "K-Kam, stop!" she spluttered, flailing as she tried to escape. It was no use. She was too far away from the plant to pick her own weapon. She was doomed.
"Surrender," Kam boomed.
"Never," Ella yelped, dissolving into a fit of embarrassingly helpless giggles. She tried to pull herself free, but Kam tightened his hold.
"There is no escape," he said with a menacing growl. "Succumb to the tickle plant, fiend, or--"
"I want to go to the ball," Ella blurted. She clapped a hand over her mouth. Argh! That was not supposed to happen.
Kam stopped abruptly. The tickle weed hovered by her cheek. "Huh?"
Ella stepped away from him, dusting herself off. "I want to go to the ball, okay?" He squinted at her and cocked her head, as if asking if she was serious. "I told you it was silly," she said defensively, feeling stupid. He was right to stare. She shouldn't want to go.
Kam opened his mouth to say something, but a shrill scream interrupted.
"CINDERELLAAA!"
Kam's eyes tightened at the nickname. Ella just smiled a little and shrugged. "Duty calls," she said apologetically, then waved. "See you later, Tickle Weed King. You'd better not tell anybody my secret."
She opened the back door and let it swing shut behind her. Her eyes were used to the bright sunlight, causing the interior of the house to appear even dimmer and gloomier than before she'd stepped out.
"CINDERELLA! WHERE ARE YOU, LAZY GIRL?" The words echoed through the house. Now that was a bellow, Ella decided as she followed the voice through the kitchen, up the stairs, and into Ciela's room.
There she found all three of her unsavory relatives in various poses of distress. Ciela was standing before the mirror in a pretty pink slip of a dress, picking at the sleeves with tears in her eyes; Anemone lay prostrate across the bed with a teal gown thrown over her face; and their mother stood in the center, arms laden with various articles of clothing.
"There you are," she hissed, spotting Ella. "I have half a mind to turn you out for your impertinent tardiness."
"Apologies, milady," Ella said, curtsying. If her stepmother heard the dryness in her voice, she didn't say anything about it. Instead, she tossed the dresses in her arms to the floor. "These gowns are rubbish," she said with a sniff. "My angels have nothing to wear to the ball."
At this, Ciela and Anemone let out simultaneous wails.
"I am sorry to hear that, milady. What would you have me do?"
"Take this to the tailor," her stepmother said, thrusting a piece of paper at her face. Ella took it; it was covered front and back with a detailed description of two dresses. "Tell him he'll receive payment after he's finished."
Well, that will make Lawrence happy. As the girls frequently "desperately needed" new gowns, she and the tailor knew each other well. Lawrence was thoroughly sick of the stepmother and her needy daughters, and Ella knew that this order would be about as welcome as a viper.
But there was nothing she could do about it. Any argument would only worsen the situation--for both her and the tailor. Curtsying again, she hurried out of the room, chased by her stepmother's shout of, "And make it snappy!"