My Reverse Fairytale

Chapter 7: Youthful Thinking

The dress wasn't pink. After hours of collaboration, three women, myself, and a surprisingly helpful male guard had decided on one, beautiful gown. My legs felt like dead sticks as I returned back to my room, this time intelligent enough to request the guidance from the youngest girl. I rammed my shoulder into the door and let my body fall through the doorway. It was astonishing how tiresome trying on dresses really was.

"Hello," I said the word almost silently as I pushed the door closed, concealing me in the room with Beth leaning against the table.

She turned herself to face me, her hair lashing across her back. Beth smiled. "My gosh I never thought you would make it back. I put out some milk and fresh cookies."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, surely all that looking pretty is tiring, Miss Janice."

"Carla is your sister."

Beth stared at me, the plate she was holding dropping the last few inches before it clanked against the table. Her eyes fluttered to the ground. "Yes, I am."

"Why wouldn't you tell me? I mentioned her." I was walking towards her now, and after speaking I let out a loud, exaggerated scoff. "Not even mentioned her, I told you that she was practically my second mother!"

She didn't speak, so I continued: "and to top it off, she has some sort of connection with the reason I am standing before you in this bloody castle. Do you happen to know anything about that? What else have you been hiding from me?" My blood was rushing to my face, heating my skin as hot tears blurred my vision.

Beth clasped her hands together, like she was begging. "Janice, there is nothing I could have said."

"So you haven’t the faintest idea why I saw her name next to my mother's? Did you know that, too, that my mother used to work for the King?" My questions came right after the last, giving no time for any answers. I wasn't sure if I had wanted them.

Silence filled the room. It was different than the silence that would consume the Prince and I, that silence was a cushion, maybe even a little jab to carry the conversation. This silence swallowed.

The young servant stood still in front of me, her eyes pleading. Pleading for forgiveness? Pity? She spoke, "I don't know what to tell you."

I scoffed. "Right." I thought back to our first encounter. I nodded in recollection before pulling open the door. "Some information is better left unknown, right?” I left the room.

~

Clink! Clink! Clink!

The sound of my spoon rebounding off the plate at my repeated tapping filled the air, seeming to cleanse it as if it had been tainted. The piercing sound was disorienting, stripping my thoughts and jumbling them together like a pile of freshly dug dirt. Dinner was set in the dining room. For some absurd reason I was eating alone, left to figure out why I couldn't have eaten by myself in the comfort of my own living quarters.

"Ma’am."

Finally some company. I looked over my shoulder, my tired eyes falling on a young girl of an age no older than twelve. I rose to my feet. She nodded her head towards the door, "Come."

We walked down the corridor. The girl led the way, keeping a fair distance between us. Her youthful spirit revealed itself with every sharp turn, her tiny feet pouncing in the new direction. I clasped my hands behind my back, sucking the inside of my cheek. "Did the King send you to get me?"

"Yes, ma'am." Her voice was light, young.

"And what should I call you, then?"

"Ella," she supplied. She jumped into the next hall. Her hair, slightly knotted, but blonde and beautiful lifted with her hops and came crashing back down onto her small, oval face. I ran a hand through my own hair, finding myself to wonder what it would be like to be a blonde.

"Do you live here?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am. My mother's been a servant here her whole life," she gave the answer without turning back to look at me. I wondered if I had met her mother. I asked the girl, Ella, for her mother's name.

"Anne. She works in the first-aid center." She seemed confident in her answer, but lacking enthusiasm.

I quickened my pace until I was beside her. "And where exactly are you taking me, Miss Ella, daughter of Anne in the first-aid center?"

She smiled, a wide, bright, little girl smile. "All I know is that someone wants to discuss something with you, ma'am," she said.

The child's smile vanished as quickly as it had come. Her eyes were a stunning shade of blue, almost like water had pooled inside of them and rested there. At her reply the deep blue seemed to drain away, like someone had pulled the plug from the bottom of the ocean.

I felt my own eyes grow wide, losing their spark. I thought about the misfortune of the poor, young girl; her mother a servant, herself a servant for her whole life and for every day to come. Eerily like my own story. My jaw dropped open in a large breath. Was I that pitiful at that age? Did I demand my elders to look down at me with sorrowful eyes?

"I wish you well," I whispered.

Ella looked at me, her eyes returning to pools. "Whatever do you mean, ma'am?"

"Janice," I gave her a smile, trying to make it sincere. "My name is Janice, not ma'am."

Her face lifted, mimicking my gesture. "What do you mean, Janice?"

I smiled, this time requiring no effort. I admired her bravery, the guts it took to live in a place like the King's castle and not be afraid to ask a question. She had courage. I placed my hand on her shoulder furthest from me, pulling her closer as we walked. "I mean I wish your life well. No one should have to live their whole life as a maid."

Her eyes fell to the floor. "Ma'am, I mean Janice, there's no one here that knows what I've been through, to be eleven and to have a mother as a maid and to be one yourself."

So I had been off by a year on her age. The worst thing about looking down on a young girl was not realizing that her life would never become anything more than it already was, but realizing the fact that she herself had already learned it to be true.

"Yes, there is," I said.

She raised an eyebrow, "Who?"

"Me." I smiled, her child curiosity once again reminding me of myself.

Ella let out a scoff, her small lips pushing far from her mouth. "But you can't be, you're a Princess!"

Some information is better left unknown. This wasn't. "No, I'm not. I was a maid, just like you, ever since I was born. Well, except not in a castle, but in a house with many other maids, living in my mother's footsteps just like you are." I told her, hiding the agony from my voice.

Ella gasped, her hand cupping her mouth. She stopped halfway up the stairwell and gave me a long look. "Then I wish you well, too." She lifted her chin.

I laughed. "Just wait, Ella, one day you'll leave this place in the dust. You'll be free."

"Just like you?"

I had never known that something like hope could so clearly spread itself across a person's face. But it could, and it did. I shook my head. Her lips drooped into a frown, and she stopped in front of a tall door. I grabbed her hand before bending down to kiss her forehead. "You will be freer than I ever will be."

She grinned slightly, "Good luck, ma--" she stopped. "Janice."

I brushed a piece of her blonde hair behind her ears and waited as she curtsied and hurried away back down the corridor. I faced the door and knocked.

"Come in," the voice made my skin crawl, hissing like a snake that was ready to coil itself around its next living meal. I pushed open the door and took a step inside. Before me stood the King.