Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale (8 page)

After several
moments, the woman stopped her chanting and blew into the cyclone, sending the
petals floating toward Cindy.  The girl watched with wide eyes as the
blood-dipped petals drifted around her.

“Close your
eyes,” called the woman.  “Embrace what is yours!”

Closing her
eyes, Cindy reached out with her arms and pulled the air into a strong embrace.
 She pulled tighter, feeling the soft brush of the petals against her skin.  Finally,
sucking in a deep breath, Cindy returned from the embrace of the wind and next
wrapped her arms around herself.

There was
stillness.    

1

     The party
was the grandest that Greenhaven had ever seen – the most extravagant of all
the Charmings’ previous bashes.  The house was pristine from top to bottom,
aglow with candles and colorful lamps.  Nearly the entire town was in
attendance.  Ladies dripped jewels from their necks and their laughter was
filled with mirth.  Gentlemen flooded the hall, perhaps hoping to take up some
of those lovely young ladies that Christian cast off. 

Mrs. Charming
was as jovial as usual while she was being complemented for her spectacular
party, but behind her smile, she had a mission as she shifted through the
crowd.  Not all was perfect, and it would not be long before others noticed it
as well.

The guest of
honor was not there.

Christian sat
at the window in his dark room, calmly smoking one of his soothing cigarettes. 
Letting the smoke roll from his lips was still one of the few things that gave
him pleasure, but he was beginning to partake more and more as the days
passed.  He sat by the open window, letting his arm hang out in the night air
and sending the smoke spirals along their journey through the wind.

He could hear
the sounds of the party below as people danced and the musicians played their
strings.  The guests seemed to be having a fond time, save for the fact that he
wasn’t present.  There was no doubt that many were wondering where he was – he
was the guest of honor after all – still, he could not tear himself from the
window.  Perhaps it was because he knew there was nothing for him downstairs.

A soft rapping
on the door gave warning as his mother entered, dressed in her finest clothes. 
Her gold-colored dress set off the candlelight magically, though one would
think she would have toned herself down so as not to draw attention from the
young ladies.  She peered through the dark and to the window where Christian
was only slightly illuminated by the moonlight.

“Everyone is
waiting for you,” said Mrs. Charming as a pointed reminder.

“You’re
imagining things,” her son countered, looking back to the window.

“Really,
Christian.  Put out that cigarette and come downstairs.  There are several young
ladies here to see you,” she insisted.

She had been
trying to force him, but this was entirely the wrong thing to say to him. “Just
bring them all up here and we’ll have a different sort of party.”

The woman was
appalled, but not shocked by this sort of response from him.  “Is that any way
for a gentleman to speak?" she scolded.  "Especially to his mother?”

“And this is
how I am to spend my evening?” he asked, ignoring her.  “Greeting girl after
girl and never having a chance to actually talk with a single one?”

“You’ve had
the opportunity to
talk
with them this week already.”  Samantha sighed
deeply for her trouble. “Why must you act this way, Christian?”

“Why must
you
,
mother?”

“You may do
what you like afterward, but just
come down
.  If you don’t want to dance
with all the girls, you don’t have to trouble yourself, but I beg you at least
dance with
one
!  Go downstairs, close your eyes and pick one out!  It
matters not to me!”

The young man
sighed and pulled himself from the floor by way of the windowsill.

“I will come
down on one condition,” he said.

“And what is
that?” his mother asked, trying to be patient.

“You must let
me work the floor by myself.  I won’t have you holding my hand through it like
the others – whispering in my ear and such.”

Samantha
finally nodded in agreement, though she didn’t seem too fond of the idea.

“Very well,
Christian,” she complied. “I expect you will be down in a short time.”

The woman
withdrew herself from the room then, leaving her son alone in the dark to
gather himself.  Though he was in deep inner anguish, he knew that once he
stepped foot downstairs, he would be expected to hold it in and put on his
guise again – just like always.  All of this angered him to think about.

Tonight
will be different.  By God, I will make my own fun. 
Flicking the dead
cigarette across the room, he did as he was expected to and came out of the
dark. 

Christian
stepped off the staircase and into the main hall.  He could feel the eyes on
him as he came down, dressed in a fine black vest and coat with golden buttons
and silk accents to his neck and sleeves.  Though he didn’t smile, the ladies
below him seemed to light up at his sight.

The faceless
women all greeted him, the sea parting as he stepped through.  It was biblical. 
They all spoke cordially, but his ears were deaf to their words.  Through the
crowd of eager faces, he saw his mother’s eyes watching him, waiting for him to
perform like a pony.  He would give her what she wanted for now, but eventually
he would make this party his. 

He turned
directly to his right and took up the hand of the first girl who he saw.  He
knew her face, but he’d forgotten her name.  He asked her to dance.  She was
flustered, chatting nervously, but he did not hear a word she said as they
waltzed.  He was looking over her head, staring at his mother.  She was
watching his every move, and he watched her in return, not breaking her gaze
even with the steps of the dance that he had learned so long ago.  He stared
hard and accusingly at her until she was finally forced to turn her face away
from him, and he counted it as a small victory. 

When the music
paused, he stepped away from the girl without speaking to her, ready to take up
another when a hand fell on his arm.

 “Christian!”
came a voice.

Turning, his
eyes fell on a woman with long brown hair and eyes that matched, but unlike
many, these eyes were able to see through him.  He knew her.  This was his
brother Joshua’s wife, Beatrice.  She was the beauty who had won over the last
of his brothers before him.  Christian wasn’t sure of how good a prize Joshua
was, but he had done his duty and married a woman as his mother had expected
him to.  Being married, Beatrice was not a threat to Christian tonight. 
Finally, here was someone with a face.

“My dear
sister-in-law,” he said, kissing her hand, “you have amazing timing!”

She couldn’t
suppress a little smile as she looked at him.  “I see this is becoming quite
the event.  Seems the whole town has turned out.”

“Only the
young, unmarried sheep and their parents to gloat on their shepherding skills,”
he mused.

"Well, you
look as though you need to be rescued," she said.

"Yes,
please
,
distract me a moment."

He offered her
his arm and they began to wade through the crowd, stepping casually.  He could
feel the whispers rolling over him. 

“Who is
that young woman on his arm?”

“Oh, that’s
only his brother’s wife.  There have always been rumors about that one.”

“Ohh, like
what?”

Christian was
momentarily amused at the thought.

“You aren’t
seeing anyone who interests you?” Beatrice asked, pulling his attention back to
her.

“It would seem
that my brothers already married the better women of Greenhaven,” he said with
a heart-melting smile.

“Always know
what to say, don't you,” she said, looking out over the floor.

"My usual
trouble is the exact opposite.  Ask my mother."

He hadn’t been
lying, exactly.  Beatrice was a beautiful girl – and not even as old as he
was.  He didn’t know her extremely well, but she had always been forward and
honest, unlike some girls who would hide, blushing, behind their lace gloves. 
He liked that about her. 

They stopped a
moment, observing the room as many girls looked to Christian and whispered
amongst themselves about him, wondering if he would approach.

“It’s funny
how you tend to be so good with the ladies,” mused Beatrice. “Yet, your
brother…”

“Has it become
that bad?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

She sighed and
lowered her voice.  “He doesn’t even try to put on airs anymore.  He won’t
share a bed.  It is quite hard keeping the scandals away from the servants.”  Beatrice
shook this away and forced a smile. “But anyway, this is your night.”

“It’s my
mother’s
night,” he corrected her. “Yet again.”

More silence
fell across the area as neither of them looked the other’s way.  Christian
wondered what she was doing here.  Since his brother’s confession to her, they
hardly left the house together.

“Dance with
me,” Beatrice instructed abruptly.

Christian
nodded in agreement as she pulled him onto the floor amongst the other dancing
couples.  After a few moments of looking around the floor and examining faces,
Christian spoke.

“I haven't seen
Joshua,” he said. “Did he not come?”

“You know he
feels
uncomfortable
around large gatherings of women.  He lived through
this once four years ago and doesn’t want to do it again.”

“But he
allowed you to come alone?” he asked her knowingly.

“He doesn’t know
I’m here – as if he would care.”

“Why
are
you here?” he inquired, speaking his thoughts.

Beatrice took
a deep breath, speaking quietly so that no one would overhear. “I’ve come to
offer you an alternative to these
sheep
, as you call them.”

This alerted
Christian’s ears.  “Is that so?”

“Yes, I
thought you might be interested - especially since it might cause the collapse
of everything your mother has tried to do.”

“Let’s hear
it.”

“My cousin. 
She’s a farm girl, and a pretty little thing.  Just barely of marrying age, and
her parents would be happy to give her away to someone so wealthy.  Her name is
Morgana.”

“She’s like
you?” he asked, spinning her.

“A breath of
fresh air?” she asked playfully. “Of course.”

He smiled and
stayed in step with his brother’s wife.  His mind trailed about, searching for
reason.  Was that truly all she had to say?  Probably not.  He was determined
to find out the truth.  This woman had been a friend, so he did not find it
hard to stay tolerant, but tonight he honestly didn’t feel up to any games.

At the song’s
end, they stepped in and bowed as was the last step.  The crowd of dancers
clapped at the musicians’ symphonic serenade.  Christian took the liberty to
speak, but kept his voice below the clapping.

“I don’t think
that’s the only reason you’re here.”

Beatrice
sighed in defeat.  “Can we step outside?” she asked.

“Of course,”
he nodded, leading her to the glass doors that led to the courtyard.  They
exited without trouble, though everyone watched his moves carefully.  He only
hoped they were out of earshot.

Christian
leaned against the stone wall of the house, pulling out a cigarette and match
as Beatrice looked around nervously to make sure they were alone.

“What do you
have to tell me?” he asked, lighting up.

“Everyone will
be wondering what we are talking about,” she said nervously.

“So long as
they can't
hear
, let them speculate.”

She sighed,
stepping closer so that she might not be heard.  “I have offered you my cousin because
I need a favor from you, and I know you are the only one who might do it.”

He had known
there was something.  He didn’t speak a word, letting her go on.

“Do you know
what it’s like, Christian?” she asked. “Do you know what it’s like to have
everything except the one thing you desire?”

“Sorry.  I’m
not familiar with the feeling.  I take it that you are going to tell me,
however – and then expect me to give it to you.”

“Your
brother,” she began, ignoring his satiric words. “He shows me no attention. He
cares nothing about me!”

“And you are
asking me to?” he presumed.

“No,” she
said, folding her hands across her blue dress. “I’m not asking you to love me…”

“Only to give
you a little attention?” he finished for her.

He smirked a
bit.  He’d be lying to say that he hadn’t seen it in her eyes many times when
she looked at him.  He knew.

“I must be
blunt and I know you won't mind that.  I need a baby to squelch the rumors,”
she said boldly.  “You look similar to your brother.  I don’t think anyone will
notice that it isn't his.”

Christian took
a deep breath, still holding his calm.  She made it sound as though it was an
innocent inquiry.

“I changed my
mind,” he said. “
Attention
is the wrong word.  I believe what you’re
talking about is called
adultery
.  With my brother’s wife?  And a child
– I’m supposed to live with that?  You must think I have no feeling at all.”

“I thought
this would be something that would appeal to your darker interests,” she tried,
“and you always were the most attractive one, Christian.  Much better looking
than your brothers.  Having Joshua fancy men…  I just don’t feel like a woman!  I’m
still young, and I can’t live like this!  I can’t bear the rumors.  A child
will take that away.  It will disprove everything.”

“So, the idea
is that I marry your cousin so that you can remain close and we can carry on
together?”

She bit her
lip, looking at him anxiously.  Christian said nothing to this as a cool wind
blew through his dark hair.  The pretty woman felt the silent tension and
quickly recovered herself.

“You don’t
have to answer now,” she said. “Just think about it.  Tell me you will
think
about it.”

She took hold
of his arms and he looked down at her without flinching or changing his stern
expression.

“I suppose
we'll see,” he said simply, without any hint as to what his answer would come
to be.  Even he didn't know.  He could be given to whimsy at any time.