Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale (2 page)

The girl had
failed to notice him.  He tilted his head to watch as she leaned over one of
the bodies and looked at the tag thereon.  The curiosity became so overwhelming
in his mind - about her and the doings in the mortuary - that he finally
gathered the gumption to speak. 

“Who is that?”
he asked aloud as he looked on.

“Edward
Jones,” said the girl without looking up. “I can't believe we have so many
today.  Do you think it's the start of some–”

The girl
stopped her speech as she looked up at him.  Clearly, she thought she had been
talking to someone else.  Her hazel eyes trailed across his skin and up to his
blue, curious stare.

“Looks like
one of the corpses is walking again,” she said flatly to herself.

A warm,
admiring smile formed slowly on his lips, but she stood firm, unfazed by his
actions of fondness.

“Who are you?”
she asked. “You’re trespassing.”

“I’m just a
curious fellow,” he informed her, taking a few steps closer.

“Well, Mr.
Curious, I think you’ve wandered off in the wrong direction.  Unless of course
you have an appointment with the scalpel,” she said, holding up the shiny metal
instrument that had been in her hand.

Christian
smiled wider, amused.  She had quite a different sense of humor than any other
girl he’d ever spoken to.  The only scary thing to him was that he thought he
liked it.

“To my
knowledge I don’t think it’s quite time for that yet,” he replied.

“Pity,” she
said, turning back to the body in the corridor and dismissing him from her
mind.

He watched her
a few moments before letting his curiosity get the best of him again.

“If you don’t
mind me asking, what exactly are you doing down here?  Isn’t this Madison’s
job?”

“I work here,”
she said bluntly. “Mr. Madison can’t do it
all
by himself.”

“Hard work?”
he asked.

“Just rather
gruesome.  One has to sometimes stop for the occasional vomit.”  Her eyes were
daring and unafraid when she looked at him.  “It’s the smell.”

He laughed
lightly and the girl continued to refuse him her smile.  She was trying to
disgust him - make him want to leave.  He wasn't fazed.

“You live here
as well then?  The place is big enough.  Though I don’t believe I’ve ever seen
you…”

“I’m Mr.
Madison’s daughter – his real daughter – and I don’t get out much.”

“I see,” he
said, taking note of that.  Isabella and Charlotte were not related to this
one, which was a mark in her favor.  “I noticed who you’re living with, which
still
doesn’t explain what you’re doing down here.  Shouldn't you be off
powdering your nose or something?”

“The
pig
and the
mule
?” she asked, to his slight laugh. “I’m not like them.  I’m
nothing
like them. ”

“I would say
not,” he said, “but personally, I think that’s a good thing.”

She nodded. 
“I’ve always thought so, yet my mere existence seems an annoyance to Anna.”

There was silence
in the hallway for a few moments as the girl simply looked back to her the cart
as if she'd spoken without meaning to.  Christian watched with anticipation,
enjoying their exchange.  He moved closer once more, very near to her now.  He
could smell the blood.

“You know,” he
began. “You haven’t told me your name.”

The girl
looked up with large, disapproving eyes.

“Neither did
you tell me yours,” she pointed back at him. “You - the one who is a stranger
here.”

“You tell me
first,” he insisted, “and I’m not a stranger.  I’m a
guest
.  There’s a
strong difference.”

The
dark-haired girl took a deep breath and then met his eyes with an annoyed look.

“My name is
Cindy,” she said. “Now leave before you see something you don't want to.”

"Who says
I don't want to?" he asked, his eyes flashing at her. 

She stared at
him in disbelief, locked on his eyes.

"You're
bluffing," she accused.

"No, I'm
serious," he insisted.  "I came down here for a thrill and I intend
to get one.  Let me see one of the bodies."

Her stare
returned to him and his heart was beating furiously within, even though his
face was calm.  He wasn't sure if it was for this forbidden thing or simply
her
that had excited him.  Light from the dim day shone through a small window near
the top of the hall, and Cindy eventually turned away.

"No,"
she said finally.  "It would be disrespectful."

"You're
terrible to me, Cindy - who likes to play with cinders."  He touched the
side of her face where a bit of ash had been smudged carelessly.  "Whoever
thought someone in
this
house would be a little cinder girl – as well as
a butcher.”

His tone was
playfully teasing, but she seemed distressed.  He could tell she wished to push
his hand away, but she was helpless with the blood on her gloves.  She tried to
lean back instead, but it seemed half-hearted.  She didn't manage to dodge his
touch as it lingered against her cheek.

"Yes,
you're a horrible tease, Cinderella."  

“Did you come
up with that all by yourself?” she taunted instead, enduring his touch until
he’d seen fit to remove it.

“Aren’t I
clever?” he said simply with a sly look.

She shook her
head, ignoring his idiocy.  “And you will tell me who
you
are now?”

She had seemed
ready to pull out of this conversation, but Christian could tell by the
position of her feet and her continued questions that she was not ready to be
done with him yet.

“Christian Charming,”
he said.

Cindy tilted
her head a moment before speaking.  He saw realization come into her eyes and
she suddenly became even less amiable than before.

“Oh, you’re
one of
them
.”  Her tone was dismissive and after she said it, she turned
back toward the body that she needed to take into the mortuary, beginning to
adjust the cart.  Christian, however, was not willing to let her escape.

“Them?” he
questioned.

“The last
Prince
Charming
,” she clarified curtly. “The youngest and final son of the
wealthiest family in town; the one all the young maidens think is going to
carry them off to some fairytale castle in the sky. 
Surely
you knew
that about yourself.”

Christian cast
his gaze to the floor, feeling somewhat abashed by her words. That was not like
him, however, and he quickly snapped out of it.

“You don’t
believe in fairytales?”

She was not
looking at him now, speaking to the wall.  “Perhaps the ones with monsters. 
Not about a young and handsome prince…” Cindy muttered, letting the words roll
off her tongue in a disgusted way.

“You think I’m
handsome?” he asked, turning it back on her quickly, casting off his feigned
bashfulness.

She shot a
quick glance at him, her cheeks growing pink.

“I didn’t say
that,” she said, talking to the floor. “I was just –”

“Admit it,” he
urged her on. “You might as well say what you think
.  I
do.”

“I – just met
you!” she sputtered.  He liked that he had made her nervous.  Finally he had
the upper hand.

“But that’s
enough to form a first impression,” he said leadingly. “So, what do you think?”

She lifted her
eyes then, suddenly unafraid. 

“You are
pompous and arrogant,” she informed him.  She had a better hold on herself now,
sure of what she was saying.

“Ah well,
thank you for being honest.  Perhaps I am.  You, on the other hand, are cold and
stubborn,” he said.

She stared
into his piercing eyes with no emotion. 

 “You’re
also
a bit morbid,” he added with a smile.

She rolled her
eyes, which almost glowed in the faint sunlight from the windows above.

“Of course I’m
morbid.  However,
you
were the one trying to sneak into a mortuary.  If
I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a bit morbid yourself.” 

“No,” he said.
“Only interested in all that
is
morbid.”

“You’re
presumptuous,” she accused.

“Anti-social,”
he stabbed back at her.

“Vain.”

“A little
creepy…”

“Shameless!”

“And strangely
beautiful.”

This was where
he had gone wrong.  She did not react as he had anticipated - with a small
blush and a smile, for deep down, all women could be won over by saying they
were beautiful, despite what he might have thought about their other traits. 
Instead, Cindy glared at him angrily and shook her head, as if she could not
believe he had dared.

“Get out of
here,” she said lowly, and it was as harsh as anything she had said to him thus
far.  She turned away.  He had lost her.

“Oh come on! 
What did I say?”

“You
are
very egotistical, aren’t you?” she asked, whirling and crossing her arms,
despite the blood.  

She was angry
now.  He would try to put out that fire.

“Yes,
Cinderella,” he teased. “I am what you say, and I have every right to be.  I
mean, look at me.  But that aside, it seems you have a bit of an ego yourself. 
There's a bit of pride in you.”  He paused for a moment and smiled. “I do like
that.”

She looked
back at him with glaring eyes.

“And you make
me a nickname?  You act like you’ve known me forever, teasing me like this!”         

“We can
pretend, can't we?”

Christian was
curious to know what she might have said, but he didn't get the opportunity to
hear it.  Both of them paused as a voice was heard from the hallway above.  They
snapped to attention, though not removing their eyes from one another.  The
words were blank in their ears, but soon the doorway was opened and Cindy's
father leaned his head inside.  

He looked on
at the two of them standing at the bottom of the stairs a moment before
venturing to speak.

“Ah, there you
are.  Your carriage is ready to depart, young Mr. Charming,” he said.

Christian
nodded.  “Thank you, sir,” he said cordially.

Turning back
to the girl he’d just met, he opened his mouth to speak - but he heard the sound
of a closing door and found himself peering down the empty hallway.  She had
withdrawn herself deeper into the mortuary to escape him. 

He smiled to
himself.  It was clever on her part.  What better way to show she had no
interest in him than to not even allow a closing to the meeting?  He nodded
knowingly.  It was a shame he couldn’t say goodbye to her personally though. 
Then again, perhaps it didn’t matter.  Perhaps he was destined to never see her
again.  There were other queens in his deck to choose from.

Content with
what he’d seen here, Christian made his way up the stairs and exited toward the
parlor where his father was stepping out the door.  He made the motion to
follow, but was stopped abruptly by the two bothersome Van Burren maidens. 
Could they not give him a single moment’s peace?

“Christian! 
Where did you go?” asked Charlotte. “We were looking all over for you!”

The girl jumped
at a sharp pinch from Isabella.

“Sorry you
couldn’t stay longer, Christian,” Isabella corrected. “Or perhaps, we are sorry
we
missed
you.”

“Not to
worry,” he assured them. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.  You’ll be at the church
tomorrow, won’t you?”

“Of course,”
Isabella said.

“Then I’ll see
you at the funeral,” Christian said, desperately trying to make his way to the
door.

“Good day,
Christian,” said Charlotte with a curtsey and withdrew herself into the
parlor.  Isabella was not so ready to give up.  Christian was drawn back by a
rough grip on his arm.

“Why must you
do this to me?” she demanded.

“What are you
talking about?” he asked, blowing her off as he tried to leave again.

“You know
exactly what I mean!” she insisted, cornering him. “I am
one hundred
times
more desirable than that pig!”

Isabella
pointed after her sister.  Christian smiled.

“Why do you
call her
pig
?  I never thought she was fat,” he said dumbly.

"She's a
rude mess,” Isabella said.  "But it doesn't matter.  Stop trying to
dodge!"

“Isabella,
darling, relax,” he urged, putting his hands on her soft shoulders. “We both
know the truth.  You and I know that we’re the same.  Since you know that we’ll
probably wind up getting married anyway, will you let me leave now?”

“You don’t
mean that at all!” she whined.

He shook his
head at her.

“You’re such
an infant!  Look, you know the rules.  The Charming offspring have to be
married by twenty-one,” he said, sliding out the door.

“And you would
pick me?” she asked, wanting assurance as she followed him out onto the porch.

He waved his
hand behind him as if she were an annoying bug.

“Let me know
if I have a better option,” he said.

He moved down
the steps, starting along the stone pathway when a thought came to him.

“Ah yes,” he
said, turning slightly back to her. “Tell
Cinderella
I said goodbye,
won’t you?  I didn’t seem to have the chance.”

“Cinderella?”
she asked in confusion.

He laughed. 
“You never were the quick one, were you?”

She scowled
back at him with her sharp green eyes.

“
Cinderella
,”
he said again. “Your sister that doesn’t come out from the morgue.  Tell her
goodbye for me and that I enjoyed our chat.  I suppose I’ll be seeing
you
tomorrow, so I won’t bother telling you the same.”

Turning on his
heels, Christian continued along down the path to the carriage, where the
horses waited impatiently.  He smiled after he turned from her.  It was true
that he was free to marry whoever he wished before he was twenty-one, but
truthfully, Christian had only one idea about marriage.  He believed that
marriage was nothing more than another relationship that he would control.  No
emotion would be able to find its way inside it for him, but he would not give
in to an arranged marriage as many had before him.  Christian had seen it
happen to so many; they were forced to marry and finally learned to love
whoever they were bonded to.  Not him.  No love would emit from his heart or
actions.