She did not like it when Maude ordered her to clean the
steps, and it had happened three times in the past week. It was winter, and the
snow lay heavy on the ground. She did not have a heavy cloak, and on the
coldest nights she lay shivering and cursing her lot in life. It was pointless,
but she found herself cursing anyway. That was when her godmother came to visit
Mrs. Simms was a tough old broad—rough red skin, small
dark eyes that missed nothing. And she could drink more than most men. She was
glad to see her though. No one else in this miserable world actually gave a
damn about her. Besides, it would be someone to pass the time with while they
utilized a little of her stepmother’s ale.
“Why do you stay here?” Mrs. S. asked her, once they’d
settled in for an evening of cold and damp and drink.
“Where else would I go?”
“Anywhere. Somewhere.” It seemed as though Mrs. S. had
probably started utilizing before she’d even arrived at the castle that
afternoon.
“That’s all well and good,” her young goddaughter
answered. “But looking like this is a curse, when you think about it. You can travel all through France and
Spain and wherever and nobody will trouble you. I attract unwelcome attention. I’d end up ruined.”
“Oh, poor me, I’m so attractive!”
“Make fun if you like,” she stifled a burp. “It’s me
who’s stuck here with my dreadful stepmother and her horrible daughters. I wish
someone would rescue me. I would adore to be rescued.”
“That’s rot. You’re a clever chap. Rescue yourself.”
“But I’m not a chap! I’m a helpless girl.”
“Oh, Lord. I can see I’m going to have to step in. Fix
you up. First, we need to get you the hell out of here and into town. If you’re
so set on catching someone’s eye, you’ll have to get cleaned up.”
“I’m so glad you’re here to help!” Cindy sighed happily.
“Good God.” Mrs. S. rolled her eyes.
The next day, Mrs. S. took her young charge into town.
She produced a few gold coins from the depths of her massive gown, and traded
them for a new gown for Cindy. She hired a girl from the village to fix Cindy’s
hair. Mrs. S. had never been very good with the female arts.
That evening, she snuck Cindy into the royal ball. It was
a beautiful affair, and half the kingdom was in attendance. The young prince of
the realm made a big entrance around ten, and everyone gasped and clapped. He
was a tall, well-made boy with golden hair. Predictably, he took one look at
Cindy’s face and he was gone. Now that it was actually clean, it was clear she was very pretty.
Cindy nearly messed up the entire deal by tripping on the
way out, but Mrs. S. turned the mix up with the shoe to their advantage.
The royal wedding was held a few weeks later. Mrs. S. had
earned herself a room at the palace, and all the fine wine she could utilize.
They all lived happily ever after, until the prince was killed in the war a few
years later. That’s the thing about happiness. It doesn’t really last.
But
wine and riches—if you play your cards right, those can be forever.
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