Finding Cinderella
written by: Jacqueline Erasin
@Jac_Erasin
‘Welcome, my friend, welcome. Come in and take a seat. Of course, I know why you’re here. Others have sat where you do, eager to hear my tale. I find myself both surprised and flattered that so many want to learn of the small part I played in the marriage of Prince Charming to his beautiful princess. But then again, who doesn’t enjoy a love story?
I was much younger when my tale began, and valet to the prince; a very important role. I was responsible for supervising the prince’s wardrobe and ensuring that all the under-staff were performing their duties as they should.
I see you are impressed.
I worked my way up, beginning, aged eleven, as a mere kitchen boy, until the young prince recognized my undeniable abilities. Under my supervision, the palace ran like clockwork, though I say so myself.
Now the prince had declared to his parents that he would marry none but her, the girl he had danced with at the ball. Finding they could do nothing to change his mind, they eventually agreed, and the prince entrusted me with the task of finding her. I was, after all, his closest and most trusted advisor.
You may have heard from tales that it was the prince himself who did this, riding around and trying the slipper onto the feet of the daughters of every household. But if you believe that, then you know nothing about royalty. For why would he travel for months on end, bending his knee to any young woman – rich, poor, plain, beautiful – when he could be out hunting with his friends?
It’s not as if I wanted to do it either. I missed the comforts and little luxuries of the palace. And most of all, I missed my sweetheart, the lovely Maria, a cook in the palace kitchens who bakes the most delicious pastries. My adorable Maria. With a figure like a little dumpling, a heart-shaped face, and eyes so dark as to be almost black; just like her hair.
At least they let me travel in the royal coach: they couldn’t risk the slipper getting broken if I carried it in my saddlebag – did I tell you it was made from glass? – so thank God, I had some comfort. I almost pitied the guardsmen accompanying me: two months in the saddle is not good for anyone. But I suppose they’re used to it. And all over some girl he met at a ball. She had given her name as Princess Evalina, but when we investigated, we found out she had lied. So what does that tell you?
Ugh! Some of the feet I saw, you wouldn’t believe: cracked heels; broken nails; bunions as large as apples. And the smell! Some of them mustn’t have washed for the past six months, as if they thought it only necessary to bathe the parts you can see. If I hadn’t soaked my handkerchief with scented oils, I’m sure I would have passed out.
Then the indignity of kneeling before them, presenting them the shoe on its velvet cushion, as if they were royalty. Me! A high-ranking servant from the royal household. You should have seen how they squirmed and grimaced as they tried to force their foot inside, when it was obvious to anyone it wasn’t going to fit. Being glass, the shoe lacked flexibility, so it was either going to fit or it wasn’t, no amount of pushing would make any difference. And it looked so uncomfortable! It made me wonder how anyone could possibly dance in them. But then women wear all manner of strange contraptions. Just think of whalebone corsets.
I know I shouldn’t say it, but truth be told, if the prince had even half a brain, he would have asked the local glass smiths which of them had been commissioned to make a shoe. But orders are orders and you cannot disobey a royal command. So even though I believed there was more chance of the slipper belonging to the prince’s horse than some of these frights, I still had to assume a straight face and go through with it.
So we traveled the length and breadth of this great land, calling at a manor house, farm, and cottage. And at each town and village, the locals would be there to greet us. Everyone had heard the king’s pronouncement: “Whosoever the slipper shall fit, she shall be the prince’s bride.” So naturally, every parent was hoping their daughter would be the one.
Now one night we stopped to rest at a roadside inn near Ruffec. I had a very interesting conversation with the innkeeper there about the best method for storing ale. When I happened to mention we were to visit the local manor on the morrow, he said, ‘Ah Cinderella. Strange girl. Claims she can talk with mice and birds.’
Well, I was intrigued. I also wondered why she wasn’t in an asylum.
The manor house was set in large and what must once have been impressive grounds, but which now appeared rather neglected. I was greeted at the entrance by a tall, elegantly dressed lady and her two daughters. Their mother was fair of face but had rather a haughty look, while her pretty daughters simpered and smirked, unable to disguise their excitement on seeing the royal crest. I politely bowed and followed them inside, wondering which of the daughters was the simpleton.
The elder sister tried the shoe first, but her foot was too wide. There was no way she could make it fit, though she certainly tried. In fact, I almost had to wrestle the shoe away from her because I thought she would break it.
After managing to retrieve the slipper, I glanced up, and there behind the open door I spied another girl, half-hidden in the shadows. Seeing me notice her, she moved slightly and the sun caught the gold in her hair.
‘Is this another daughter, madam?’ I asked.
The fine lady cast her a look so cold, I swear I saw frost forming on the walls.
‘She is no one. Cinderella, return to your duties at once!’
Cinderella!
I assumed my most condescending manner. ‘Madam,’ I said. ‘She may only be a servant, but the proclamation is quite clear: all may try the slipper.’
The mother tried to object, insisting that I needed only to see her younger daughter. I dislike anyone talking down to a servant, especially a pretty one, so I waved my hand to silence her then asked to see Cinderella alone. I had taken against this fine lady and wanted to put her in her place.
By then Cinderella had run away, so I followed her to the kitchen, closing the door behind me. I was sure the girl must be flustered to have a fine gentleman such as myself in her kitchen, so I smiled my most charming smile and asked her for some tea in order to quench my thirst.
She asked if I would also care for bread and butter, but I politely declined on noticing the dirt beneath her fingernails.
As she prepared the tea, Cinderella softly sang the chorus of a popular folk song – it was really quite lovely – while I pretended not to notice the thick cobwebs hanging from the corners of the ceiling.
After serving me, Cinderella retreated to sit on a small stool in the far corner of the room.
Naturally, she is ill at ease, I thought. An almost-feral child, perhaps a half-wit, the idea of being so close to royalty must terrify her. So, to put her at her ease, I spoke of my sweetheart Maria, and how one day I hoped to marry her and together set up a hostelry. With Maria’s abilities in the kitchen and my head for figures and management, it was certain to be a success.
All this time, Cinderella drew her stool closer until she was opposite me on the other side of the scrubbed oak table and I was better able to study her. Her large blue eyes, framed with long dark lashes, looked to me, against the grime of her face, like two sapphires lying in a muddy field, while her plump red lips almost made me forget my darling Maria.
I coughed, and asked her how long she had been a servant here.
‘Oh, I’m not a servant,’ she said. ‘This is my home. It was my father’s estate.’
I raised an eyebrow to indicate my skepticism.
Cinderella flushed and tried to hide her work-roughened hands within the folds of her plain cotton gown.
‘The lady you met is my stepmother. The other two are her daughters,’ she said, coldly.
She raised her head, looking as proud as a duchess. ‘When my father died, my stepmother dismissed all the servants, then told everyone that I had died too. So now I live and work here as an unpaid drudge at their beck and call every day.’
I gave a small gasp of horror.
‘I suppose I should be grateful my stepmother was not callous enough to really kill me,’ she added with a sardonic smile.
‘But why do you stay here?’
‘Where would I go? This is my home.’
I was so moved by her sad tale that it occurred to me to take her back to the palace where she could be trained as a lady’s maid to the prince’s bride. Though first she would need a thorough scrubbing, and possibly even delousing.
‘So when I overheard my sisters discussing going to the ball, I decided I would go as well.’
‘Excuse me? You thought you would go to the ball?’ I suppressed a snigger at the idea of her trying to enter the palace dressed as a ragamuffin.
‘I thought if I could meet the prince and he were to fall in love with me then I could live happily ever after.’
I shook my head. Poor deluded child.
‘I do not ask for your pity, sir!’
Her sharp tone shocked me. Really, this girl was a surprising creature.
‘I asked my friends for help. And they were glad to do so.’
‘Friends?’
Cinderella then proceeded to tell me of her little friends, the mice and the doves, and how they would assist her with the housework whenever her stepmother’s demands became too great. I looked again at the cobwebs and wondered at the state of the kitchen without their aid.
She told me that these creatures brought her a gown of the finest silk and a beautiful pair of slippers fit for the greatest princess.
Well, I smiled and nodded along, of course, though when she told me how she traveled to the ball in a pumpkin, I almost choked on my tea.
Ah, beneath the dirt, she really was a beauty. What a pity, I thought, that she’s not all there. Still, she would make a very interesting study for a doctor.
But I had a job to do, so taking the slipper from my bag and placing it on the velvet cushion, I went down on one knee before her.
Cinderella gasped and clapped her hands in excitement. ‘My lost slipper!’
Then I was the one who gasped, for when she placed her foot inside the shoe, it shimmered and softened, molding itself around her foot like skin.
‘Cinderella, I’m… what is this magic?’ I was flabbergasted. Had that really happened?
Cinderella removed the slipper, smiling at my astonishment. When I took it from her, it was again in its solid form. I drew my fingers over the smooth surface in wonderment. It was extraordinary. Who was this girl?
‘My real name is Bella,’ she said. ‘My stepsisters named me Cinderella because I’m always covered in soot.’
‘Then you must reclaim your name, my lady,’ I replied.
I thought for a moment, then asked, ‘Do you have the other shoe?’
She told me it was hidden in the garden, so I sent her to fetch it. When she had gone, I slipped out of the kitchen, locking the door behind me.
I had a plan, but I needed to act quickly.
I returned to the main parlor to find the lady of the house pacing the floor, while her daughters were sprawled, yawning, across either end of the dark blue velvet sofa.
I knelt before the younger sister. Unsurprisingly, the slipper did not fit her either. Her foot was too long.
‘Here,’ I said, handing her a meat cleaver I had brought from the kitchen. ‘Cut off your big toe.’
She naturally protested, so her mother carried out the deed. Although she chopped them all off, for as she declared, removing just the one wouldn’t make much difference.
A very practical lady.
After rousing her from her faint, I told the daughter to bind up her foot and put on some thick stockings so nobody would be any the wiser. I knew that by the time the prince discovered the truth, it would be too late anyway.
We did have to carry her from the coach in a litter, but this helped to impress the king and queen as she appeared more regal.
There was great excitement when we arrived at the palace. Church bells were ringing, and cheering crowds lined the streets throwing flowers.
The prince did seem slightly taken aback when he first greeted her. I could see from his expression he thought she didn’t look quite how he remembered her, but he was too polite to say anything.
Their wedding was a very grand affair, with royalty and dignitaries attending from far and wide. And while the prince was not at first… best pleased when he realized the truth, they seem to be happy enough now. She enjoys spending his money and giving orders, while he enjoys dressing up and hunting.
His mother-in-law is even happier: her daughter will one day be queen, while she lives in luxury, waiting on hand and foot. She even found herself a fool of an earl in his dotage willing to marry her.
The dear lady. It’s because of her that I was spared the Rack.
And Bella? When her stepmother and sisters moved to the palace, she took over the management of her father’s estate, turning part of it into an animal sanctuary. It’s very prosperous now I hear, boasting the best vineyards for miles around. They even supply the royal wine cellars.
Did I feel bad about tricking her? Not one jot. The prince was a spoiled fool, and she was far too good for him.
She has been to visit me, you know. She tells me she is very happy and says she will see me right once my time is served.
Now my friend, my tale has finished. Your payment, if you please.
Fare you well. And a penny for the gaoler on the way out.’
A sovereign! Very generous. Though too large a coin to be of use to me in here: too many thieves. I shall hide it behind this loose brick in the corner of my cell. And who knows? One day I may have saved enough to open that hostelry.
Just five more years.
- Finding Cinderella - September 3, 2024
- A Full English - February 7, 2023
