Part I

Dear Diary,

Monday, 23^rd day, 8^th month

My "sisters" came home filled with excitement today. The Prince has announced he is in search of a princess. There will be a great ball at the palace this Saturday eve and each is confident she will be the chosen one. Methinks they are both overly optimistic. Bertha's nose is too sharp and is the first thing that catches one's attention when gazing upon her face. And I've heard that the Prince has a fondness for breasts, so that eliminates Gertrude from the start.

Dear Diary,

Wednesday, 25^th day, 8^th month

"Mother" has joined the fantasy. She has convinced herself that the Prince can do no better than a woman of over 200 pounds with two grown children. I admit she has a sizable bosom, but I don't believe that is the only requirement of the Prince. I had to leave the room so as not to laugh out loud as her daughters attempted to reduce her size by forcing a corset for a much thinner woman upon her.

Dear Diary,

Friday, 27^th day, 8^th month

These are truly evil stepsisters I have. Today they had me covered in filth as I washed the old horse my father used to pull his plow and wash and paint the buggy he drove to deliver the milk to town. The fool from the farm next door has been cajoled into dressing up in finery I have been requisitioned to fashion out of our front room draperies by Bertha. Her nose may be long and sharp but it doesn't prevent her from taking a one-eyed wonder in her mouth and sucking the custard out of it. I wonder how attractive the Prince would find her if he could see her on her knees giving suck to that pimply faced brat's blue-veined trumpet.

Dear Diary,

Saturday, 28^th day, 8^th month

I am weary. I have not had any sleep since a full day, being up all night fashioning livery from my mother's fine curtains. Tis good she is long in her grave so as not to witness it. When I tried to quit to my mattress, I was informed that I would be required to help the three of them to pretty themselves for the ball. One truly cannot fashion a silk purse of a sow's ear. Tis a wonder to hear them yammer of what they believe the Prince will find attractive. They went off satisfied they had been made beautiful, though I've seen barns with more subtle red paint than the three of them wore. And Gertrude looks worse with her bodice stuffed with rags than she does with no bosom at all. As I write this, it is two hours past the dinner hour and I am finally able to retire to my bed as my stepmother and stepsisters having just pulled away in their "carriage."

Dear Diary,

Sunday, 29^th day, 8^th month, very early morning

I had been asleep for less than a quarter hour when I was awakened by a vision. Being of sound mind and not wont to foolishness, I assumed I was still dreaming.

"Cynthia," the vision said, "You must needs get ready for the ball. Else you shall never meet your true love."

I gazed upon a woman of indeterminate age. "Who might you be, my lady?"

"I would be your fairy godmother."

"I would blame you upon spicy food had I not fallen into bed before having a chance to feed myself," I said. "In its stead, I shall call you a nightmare."

"Have you not wished to depart this place? To live in finery, to have all in the kingdom honor you? To have the very Prince of the land kneel at your feet?"

"This is a very fine dream, my lady, but I must needs sleep to make up for that which was lost. I am but a poor girl, indentured to my dead father's wife. No prince would want me."

"Cynthia, get out of bed. The time has come for you to meet your destiny."

Of a sudden, I was on my feet, lifting my arms as my nightclothes were pulled over my head and off. She directed me to a golden tub, filled with lavender scented water, the steam rising as I watched, enchanted.

I sat in it as she washed the dirt and grime from my body. The brush made my nipples stand up as she scrubbed my bosom and my nether nipple escape its shield when she swiped between my opened legs.

"No time for that." she said, lifting me by both arms. "There will be plenty of time for those games after you catch him."

"Catch who, my lady?"

"The Prince. The Prince. Get your head around it, Girl, tonight you ensnare the Prince for your very own."

It seemed a lovely dream and I resolved to go along with it as long as it lasted.

My "fairy godmother," as she referred to herself, was powdering me with a feather duster dipped in lavender powder. The feelings as she drew it between my legs and the cleft in my arse rivalled those I could create under the covers at night with my fingers and the odd vegetable I was able to sneak into bed with me.

She stood in front of me and shook the feather duster as if it were a staff or wand. Of a sudden, I was clothed. Clothed not in the rags I normally wore, but in such finery as I'd never seen. Finery as beautiful or even more so than that I'd seen the Prince's mother, our queen wear, on the rare occasion I'd been privy to witness her and her husband out amongst the common folk in their golden coach. My godmother, as I truly believed her to be now, waved her duster and a glass appeared in front of me. I appraised myself and was astounded by my beauty. My blond hair was piled on top of my head, a crystal tiara holding it in place. The dress was blue. Not a dark color, but a blue best described as wispy. Teamed with the bluish hue of the crystal, my blue eyes drew my attention as if a magnet. The bodice of the dress was modest yet revealed that I had a bosom to be admired, proving it to be real but not displaying it to the view of all. A present to be opened by the man I chose to give that privelege to.

My godmother, as I now started believing her to be in my mind, held her chin in her hand, a look of consternation upon her face. "Those shoes lack something."

I pulled up the hem of the gown with its petticoats and gazed upon my feet. The shoes were finer than any I had ever worn, a dark blue in color with heels that raised the back of my feet from the ground.

She waved her duster and the looking glass in front of me shrank, then flew toward my feet, suddenly transforming to slippers. My feet could be seen as if they were bare. While these had heels even lengthier than those of the blue slippers, these were thin and tapered, not thick and squared as the others. I felt something strange on my face and discovered a mask, also of crystal, around my eyes.

The clock over the fireplace chimed the nine o'clock hour and I turned to look at it.

She held my chin in her hand and turned my face towards her, holding on to me and moving it to emphasize her instructions.

"You have but tonight to entice the Prince to marry you. I have done all I can; it is up to you to dance and beguile him with your beauty. But I warn you, my dear. When the midnight hour strikes, all of this will vanish and you will be dressed in your rags. You must accomplish the seduction before the twelfth chime of this clock. Do you understand me, my child?"

I nodded my head and found myself to be standing at the entrance to the ballroom at the palace. A uniformed guard touched my arm and asked "Who should I announce, my lady?"

I looked at him, not understanding his words or where I was.

"Your name?"

"Cynthia." I thought of my stepfamily and their reaction if they knew I was in attendance. "Cinderella. Cinderella of Exley."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present Cinderella of Exley."

Some of the crowd turned to gaze upon me but for the most part they continued their conversations as I made my way down the long staircase to the ballroom floor. That is, until none other than the Prince made his way up the lower two steps and took my hand in his. A gasp rose from many on the floor as if from one.

"I would never forgive myself if you were to stumble, my lady."

"You are very gracious, but I have been walking by myself for many years, your highness." Where I got the courage, the brashness to speak in such a manner to my prince is beyond me.

"Tis certain you have," said he. "I must tell you, I but chose that as an excuse to take your lovely hand in mine." At that point, he knelt on one knee and brought the hand to his lips, barely brushing them upon my fingers.

This had two effects. First, the collective crowd in the ballroom, all of whom were watching the two of us by now gasped as one, moreso than they had when he first took my hand. The second effect was of a more personal nature and I was pleased that my fairy godmother had seen fit to supply bloomers when she costumed me.

The Prince rose to his feet and declared "I wish to dance." A path was opened up to the center of the floor and he led me there, never relinquishing my hand. He took me in his arms and the orchestra started to play.