The Ball

Ella was desperate to remove her restrictive silk gown. Feeling the tightening grip of the corset around her midriff day-in day-out was like constantly being gripped by a giant lobster's claw, being pinched and unable to squirm away. And the rustling! Every movement she made elicited a small sound, like someone crumpling tissue paper. It was like water torture. But the worst was that she hated it when she had to parade around like this. These events were so stuffy and stifling in so many ways! And so stilted and pretentious, everyone scrutinising everyone else and commenting on what they are wearing, how they look, whether they are beautiful or not, who will capture the Prince's eye. She took a deep breath to suppress her irritation. The time was dragging and made worse by her discomfort. She couldn't wait until later that evening when she could go to the Ball.

The Ball! She could barely contain her excitement! She allowed her mind to wander to think of the discovery she had made two nights ago of her fairy godmother. It was a strange place to find someone, although perhaps not someone who could exert so much magical influence. Ella had been looking through the bookshelf in the library to find something that had grit. Her stepmother was always recommending romantic fiction, the covers depicting maidens in wench outfits with smouldering dark-haired warriors or her idea of a handsome prince in the background, and Ella took them but never read them. Actually, she had tried but had never got past the first page before throwing it down in exasperation or boredom - or both.

In the library, Ella was perusing a shelf which held a combination of natural history volumes alongside some rather austere looking leather bound encyclopaedias when she had spotted a smaller book with a bright sky blue cover, squat and wide with "Wishmaker by F.G. Gossamer" embossed on the spine in golden lettering and, such was the contrast it presented with everything around it, Ella found herself pulling it off the shelf. Imagine her surprise when she discovered that it was not a book at all but a tiny home, in which perched a fairy, on a very comfortable miniature chair, reading a tiny book and wearing tiny spectacles. If the fairy, Gossamer, had been startled, she did a good job of hiding it, merely looking up from her page and directing her attention to Ella, who was peering at her find with unconcealed astonishment.

"Hello, Ella dear. Would you mind if I finish my page? I'm just getting to a good bit and as the rest of it has been reasonable at best, dire at worst, I just need to decide if it's worth the effort." Gossamer did not wait for a reply but merely resumed her reading, leaving Ella to attempt a nod whilst holding the book steady in a hand that was shaking in surprise.

Ella watched as the fairy continued to read in total preoccupation which was just as well as Ella gawped, her mouth wide in wonder, her eyes scrutinising the detail in the scene before her. She could see a spiral staircase towards the back of the room, going up and down and there seemed to be an open fireplace too, with fire blazing. A window looked out onto a field with sunflowers, swaying in the wind but when Ella surreptitiously tried to look at the cover, trying her hardest not to tilt the book and disturb the reading fairy, there was no aperture where that window could be. And where did those stairs go? It was a one volume book that showed one room that filled the book's size entirely. It was truly a puzzle and one that charmed and perturbed Ella in equal measure. Ella waited patiently, as Gossamer moved her finger down the page, and wondered if the mushroom soup served for dinner had been given a new funghi as its base ingredient - more magic than field mushroom.

"There! Page done! Apologies for the wait!" The fairy threw down the book and flew into the air on shimmering wings to hover in front of her chair. Ella had still not managed to say a word and merely stared in disbelief.

Gossamer looked at Ella appraisingly. So this is what I have to work with? she thought and wondered for what on this magical earth this young, pretty, beautifully presented girl could wish? She had to have been invited to all of the social engagements at court, no question, and she looked bright, intelligent, maybe a little anti-social - it was rare she'd had to set up her home as a book to introduce herself to her wishees.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Wait there and I'll come down," and Ella watched as the fairy flew over to the spiral staircase and descended it, still flying, her wings shimmering with little flutters, until with a small puff of yellow smoke, Gossamer appeared next to her. There were, of course, no stairs in the library.

"I'm Gossamer, your fairy godmother. Pleased to meet you, Ella!" Gossamer held out a very tanned hand to Ella, who reached for it, trying desperately to contain her nervousness. Gossamer was now the same height as her although this could be debated as her wings were keeping her from being actually grounded. However, she was a far sight bigger than when she had been reading her tiny book in her tiny house.

Ella looked at the fairy, warily. She had a benevolent face which was beaming wholeheartedly and Ella found she couldn't help but smile back.

Gossamer put her other hand on the top of Ella's and said, "Nothing to fear here, Ella. I'm just a little old fairy come to grant you a wish. I've been trying to attract your attention for days but it's not been easy. Always got your head in a book or making things. Such concentration! So I had to really think about how to grab you. And here we are!"

Ella managed a nod and Gossamer, denoting her silence as fairly typical for anyone surprised by a fairy, filled it.

"So, wishes. I am sure that there is something that you would want more than anything in the world. You just name it and I will make it happen!"

Gossamer did a small, matronly twirl, a glittering cloud emanating from her as she did. And Ella found her voice finally, as the shock receded and revealed the most overwhelming yearning that she had, and with haste, she blurted out her heart's strongest desire:

"I want to go to the Ball!"

Gossamer halted mid twirl, her back to Ella, her expression shielded from view. Gone was the lightness of spirit, replaced with a look of consternation at Ella's wish. The Ball? That was something that Gossamer had not heard about in years. A mythical event, rumoured to happen every five years. Was this the year? Yes, Gossamer believed it was. Why would such a pretty girl want to go to such a dark place? She had been asked some things in her time but this? It was completely unusual. Unheard of. But Gossamer was ever the consummate professional and so, in that split second where her back had been turned and Ella was unaware of the fairy's conflict, Gossamer straightened out her features, resumed her twirl with extra glittery effect, just in case she didn't look quite as cheerful as she hoped and spun back to announce, with the right amount of glee and enthusiasm,

"Then, you shall go to the Ball!"

Ella's excitement at the revelation was palpable and she was just revelling in her memory of it when her thoughts were interrupted and she was brought back to the present by the shrill voice of her stepmother calling to her. She could barely suppress a shudder as her eardrums quivered, or disguise her annoyance but she knew that her stepmother would disregard any negative response she may show because she would not want to upset Ella. She was, Ella had to admit, a thoroughly nice person.

"Ella! Won't you come over here please and talk to the Prince? He is desperate to speak to you!"

Grimacing as she turned, Ella headed towards the most handsome man in the kingdom and the one person who she really could not abide. She wasn't really sure why she disliked him so much as he was witty, incredibly good-looking and confident, making people feel at ease and that they were truly captivating, showing rapt attention to every word uttered by every person he encountered. He was utterly charming, as his name denoted, to everyone else. He was, she thought to her, too clean, that was the problem. Others would say that Ella was just contrary and in some ways, they would be right.

"Your Highness," she said as she approached the Prince and he held out his hand to meet hers before planting a kiss on it, his eyes holding hers the whole time.

Releasing her hand, he said, "Looking lovely as usual, Ella. Thank you for deigning to come over to talk to me." The Prince smirked and raised his eyebrows as Ella's own knitted together. Etiquette decreed that she respond politely.

"It was my pleasure, Your Highness. I could see you were occupied or I would have been here sooner," she stated without emotion.

"Mmm," he responded, clearly disbelieving her.

Ella raised her chin a little in response to his skepticism. Let him challenge me, she thought. I will tell him exactly what I think.

"You will stay for the whole night, Ella?" The Prince looked optimistically at her and added, "Even though you look uncomfortable and like you are itching to be somewhere else?"

Ella's heart thudded. Did he know? But how could he? The Ball was a secret, wasn't it? This was why she didn't like him, she thought. It was like she was transparent to him and he could read her with ease. She felt exposed and vulnerable and she didn't like it one bit whilst also acknowledging that part of her felt thrilled by it. Just a little.

"But, of course, Your Highness. There is nowhere else to be tonight but here."

He smiled a rogueish smile, for a prince, and placed his hand at the base of her back. He leant in to her and whispered, "Then I will look forward to dancing with you at the stroke," and here he moved his hand just a little lower, "of midnight."

Ella hoped that her body did not betray her surprise and shock. This statement had revealed much to her and jolted her like a horse kicking out. So, the Prince planned on making her his Princess, did he? This was abhorrent enough - a life of this! - but now she was conscious of the extra external pressure of expectation and the disappointment of her family.

It was traditional for the Prince's consort to be chosen at the evening soiree after the Regatta, the event which Ella was currently attending, and many of the other ladies, including Ella's stepsisters would be thrilled at the prospect of a dance with the Prince himself. Either of her sisters would make a better match for him, Ella thought, as they were kind and thoughtful girls, intelligent and wise, beautiful and highly regarded by all who met them. Ella was considered a lesser prize in many ways, as it was evident from her demeanour at occasions such as these, that she was filled with disdain for the ceremony, pomp and decadence that surrounded her as well as the restrictive dresswear she had been forced to wear. She also came across to most as a bit haughty. Ella was well aware of this and did nothing to disabuse others of the impression. She did what she had to do out of duty but she hated it and did not want to be part of this world at all. And that is why she had been looking forward to the Ball.

If she was not at the gateway at precisely midnight, then she knew that she would not be allowed to enter and this, to her, was unimaginable. But how to leave without being noticed? And how to do it to assure no offence was caused? Surely Gossamer would not let her miss it?

The night progressed as Ella knew it would. The Prince continued to greet his courtiers and their eligible young daughters, engaging in discussion and laughter and glasses of rich drink, but Ella noticed that he always kept a bemused eye on her.

He's always so smug, she thought. She could sense his eyes on her like prickly heat on her neck and the thought of thwarting his wishes hit her with a bolt of excitement as well as dread. Refusing the wishes of a prince was, well, daring but also foolish. But she was resolute. She would find a way. She was no princess.

But she needn't have worried as the Prince had no intention of being there at midnight either.

***

Despite the demands of the evening, the Prince noticed Ella at all times. He had firm intentions towards Ella this evening, it was true, and it was with some sadness that he was going to have to renege on his midnight dance with her. That's not to say that he wouldn't have liked to have held Ella and spun her around on the dancefloor because he would have. The whole of his body told him that she was the one every time he was near her but tonight, he had to scratch a five year itch.

Way before the clock struck twelve, he had left the soiree.

He knew that there would be panic when he was not there when midnight came. It could not be helped. With no other to hold him accountable, he could do what he damn well pleased and there was no way that he was having his future dictated to him at a certain moment on a certain evening because some statute decreed it.

He would have Ella but not tonight.

And now, he had a matter of minutes to get out of his formal clothing and head out of the palace to the gateway before midnight came.

***

Ella breathed an enormous sigh of relief as her corset was finally off.

"Right, missy! Now we've got that thing off, prepare to be transformed!"

Gossamer waved her hand and Ella was suddenly struck by an acrid smell of burnt oil and soot. Her elaborate hair fell to her shoulders in dark, clinging strands and she looked at her hands to see her normally pristine nails were dark with grit and black gathered round the cuticles. A thrill went through her! She really was going to the Ball!

It had been years since she had found the flyer. She had been walking in the gardens when she had spotted something flapping on a hedge in the wind, caught on a twig. She reached for the damp sheet, corner torn off and examined it. On it, was a scene like none she had ever seen. A drawing of a woman, dressed in black, sitting in a machine with wheels. No horses, no carriage. Behind her, someone had drawn crowds of people and there was a drawing of a man, holding a trophy of some sort in the air, shaped like a ball. There was a date and the statement "FIVE YEARS IS UP!" and greying fragments of pulped paper - "...INVITED TO...MIDNIGHT....BALL.." - which had been eaten away by its exposure to the weather.

She had been fascinated by what she saw and it had dominated her thoughts since. She could find nothing in the library to explain what this event was and so, her curiosity well and truly piqued, she had vowed she would not rest until she uncovered to what this strange flyer referred. She still had it, sandwiched between the pages of a romance novel.

While Ella was ruminating, Gossamer examined her with bemusement. It was one of her more unusual transformations as Ella stood before her, dressed in black from head to foot, looking wild and really quite grubby. Minimal make-up, leather from head to foot and some seriously kick-ass boots, finished the look. No dresses for this girl tonight! Gossamer pursed her lips: Should she give her a tattoo? But with a small shake of her head, she decided not. Too tricky to remove really. And not necessary. She will fit in well.

"Right, Ella. We need to get you to that gateway!" Gossamer went to wave her arm and free the magic glitter again when she stopped and looked at Ella one last time. The look on Gossamer's face was thoughtful and for one frightening moment, Ella thought that Gossamer had changed her mind.

"What is it?" Ella said, her worry seeping into her words.

"Your face. It's too...clean." Gossamer had given Ella magic shabbiness but she needed a bit of true grime. What to do? And then in one swift move, she flew to the empty fireplace and scooped a small handful of ashes, and returning to Ella, proceeded to smear the fire's remnants all over her face until Ella's face was virtually unrecognisable. Dirty, that's what she looked.

"That's better!" Gossamer put her hands on Ella's shoulders, mainly to give support but also to transfer ash from her hands. Gossamer did not like to get dirty. "Right! Let's go, Cinders!" And the fairy held up her arm to release the dust.

"Wait!" Ella shouted.

Gossamer stopped, a little startled and looked at Ella, with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to shout." Ella shrugged apologetically. "It's just...can I see myself?"

Gossamer's face lit up with an enormous smile. "Of course! "she exclaimed, and produced a mirror from the air in front of where Ella stood.

There was an electricity in the air as Ella looked at her reflection. The wonder on her face made Gossamer smile. Ella's eyes travelled over what she could see. She looked so different, so loose and powerful. Black suited her but she would never be allowed to wear it. It was all pastels and embroidery. And she had never seen what Gossamer called "trousers" before but they felt so good! So liberating. And, more than that, she was conscious of a feeling that she couldn't quite identify in her but it was a sassiness, an assuredness: if she'd asked Gossamer, she would have been able to tell her, because what Ella was feeling was sexy and it was a feeling that empowered her. If Joan Jett could manifest herself in a mythical magical kingdom, she would have been the image of Ella.

"Wow," Ella said quietly.

"I know!" Gossamer said, excitedly and flew to stand behind Ella, the floating mirror reflecting them both.

"I look amazing," Ella said. "And I feel..."

"Bad ass?" Gossamer finished for her.

"Yes, whatever that is," Ella said, softly.

"Good. Because you're going to be mixing with a lot of other individuals who are bad ass, so you are going to have to play the part, my girl." Gossamer suddenly became serious. "When you enter the Ball, you have to look like you belong there and that means that you need to be confident - head high, striding about the place - no skulking in corners." She looked Ella directly in the eyes and said,"There are people there who are bad bad ass - pull whiskers out of kittens for fun, type of stuff - and you'll know them, no doubt, just by looking at them."

Ella's eyebrows had raised exponentially at the mention of the kittens and Gossamer had nodded. She needs to know where she's headed. It's thrilling but it's dangerous.

"Avoid. At all costs."

Ella nodded, barely perceptible but her wide eyes showed that she understood.

"But, if you do find yourself in trouble, take this." Gossamer placed a small black stone in Ella's hand, shiny in the shape of a bean. "Rub it with your thumb and you'll be back here in an instant." Gossamer smiled. "I'm happy for you to go to the Ball, despite the risks, but you need to be able to get out of there. Quickly. If need be." Gossamer held Ella's gaze for a second more to convey the gravity of her speech and then, clapping her hands, said:

"Right! Let's get you there! Lecture over. Make sure you have your Summoning Stone," and she watched as Ella placed it securely in her pocket, "and don't forget, you have to be back at the gateway before daylight - no delaying. Understand?"

Ella nodded and tried not to focus on the churnings in her gut, a strange mix of excitement and trepidation but intoxicating nonetheless.

"Because if you don't...you'll get stuck there forever, or, if you're lucky, the next five years. And I won't be able to get you back."

Ella gulped and looked at Gossamer, who nodded at her for confirmation and Ella said, "Understood."

A glittering swarm of magic dust engulfed Ella - she was off to the Ball.

***

It was hard to resist the temptation to gawp. Ella was conscious of herself like she had never been before, even under the measured gaze of the Prince at the soirees, as she walked through the crowds.

It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The noise! The smell! The crowds! The chaos! It was wonderfully anarchic and unsophisticated. No string quartets or fancy punch bowls or structured seating plans! It was a melée of glorious madness and she was exhilarated by it!

As she made her way through the people, shoulders back, head high as Gossamer had told her to, she noticed that she was never barged or jostled. A man leered at her, his beard thick with traces of what he had eaten, his tongue barely visible as he wet what must have been his lips but as he attempted to lurch towards her, he met with resistance and veered back to where he'd started. She smiled to herself, sure that her fairy godmother had imbued her outfit with some of that magic.

She could hear the roar of something brash and its power as it struck something else, metallic or otherwise, and the smell in the air matched hers but magnified. Burnt oil and soot. She followed the noise as best she could above the chatter and laughter around her until she could see what was making it.

In front of her, on what appeared to be a road made especially for racing were the machines from the flyers, only this time they were moving. And they were moving fast! Smoke was everywhere, acrid and the engines' clattering assaulted her ears. It was a race, for sure. What on earth were these things? Where had they come from and how had they been made?

In the machines were men and women of all ages, size and race. Hair streamed behind those who had any as the machines sped and turned. It was difficult to see individual expressions and faces as the vehicles sped by. It looked so dangerous! One machine had spun off and the man driving was slumped over what appeared to be a wheel that helped steer. Ella's eyes stayed on him as he was still and then, suddenly, he threw his head back with a roar of laughter and beckoned to some people in the crowd to push him back into position, who all scurried to comply so he could continue the race.

She watched with what she hoped was interest but not the amazement that she was trying desperately to contain, until the race was over. It had been exciting, unlike anything she had ever imagined. She was overwhelmed by a need to get closer to the machines so that she could see how they were constructed, how they worked, where the power came from as she was sure that it was not from harnessed animals. No, there was some magic at work here, she was convinced and her natural curiosity and intelligence willed her to find out more.

As she moved towards the track, she felt a sudden sensation - the prickling. Just as it was at the soiree earlier. And she knew. The Prince was here. She wasn't sure how she knew this but an inner instinct was telling her and she trusted her gut. This place filled her with wonder. What could he be doing here? Surprisingly, she did not feel the usual aversion to him that took over her at their encounters. In fact, she felt quite eager to see him. She wasn't sure if it was the strangeness of their current situation and him likely to be the only one that she knew here but she found herself scanning, casting her eyes over faces to see if she could spot him.

And there he was. Sitting in a machine on the track. And he was looking right at her with amused recognition. Or at least she thought it was him as he looked so different! He, too, had his normally flawless, well-groomed appearance besmirched so that he looked like a ruffian from the back streets, oily and dirty and rough. She felt a sensation in her gut as she held his gaze that was strange to her and that she would identify later as desire.

She smiled and he nodded to her, his smile broadening and then he was getting up out of the machine, his back being slapped by the other drivers and people in the crowd, wanting to shake his hand and congratulate him. Ella watched as he acted as he did at the soiree, oozing charm and engaging people in his inimitable way. She liked the way he moved and was filled with an urge to be by his side. Willing him to look at her, the Prince turned his head and beckoned to her to join him.

She was there in an instant.

"Well, well, well. What or who do we have here?" The Prince looked appraisingly at Ella, making no attempt to be subtle as he eyed her from head to toe, toe to head. "I must say that you look, well, a bit different to earlier. And what is that you have on your face? I barely recognise you, Ella."

"I think you'll find it's cinders," Ella explained. "And this is just a little something I've thrown together for the occasion," Ella added as she gesticulated to her outfit.

The Prince's eyes widened for a moment and then, he threw his head back and laughed. "Cinders, is it? Is that what you're calling yourself now? I quite like it. Cinders. Well, Cinders, Ella, whatever, what do you think of the Ball?"

"This is..." Ella struggled for words, her arms circling in front of her as she tried to explain how she felt about it.

"It's okay. Your expression says it all!" The Prince watched Ella's face, speculating on how he had never seen her so animated, so alive. And she had certainly never responded so well to his attempts to converse.

"I mean, what is this place? How did it come about? What are these things? How did we get here? Is it magic?" Ella pointed at the machines.

"I know. You have a lot of questions. As do I about how you got here." The Prince raised an eyebrow at her questioningly and Ella shrugged.

"It's a wish come true," she answered.

The Prince gazed at her, smiling and said, "It surely is." He reached for her hand to bring her closer to him and Ella gladly let him. "Well, I am glad for that. Shall we go away from the noise or would you like to get closer?"

Ella's eyes widened and she said excitedly,"Do you mean to the machines?" And then in a move that surprised her and yet seemed completely natural, she said, lowering and softening her tone, "Or something else?"

The Prince moved his arm around her waist to draw her to him and whispered in her ear, "I think you know. You always have." He placed his lips gently on her ear and she shivered. "But the something else can wait just a little bit longer." And then, pulling away and looking at her openly, he added, "We have a Ball to enjoy first." He leant towards her, placing his lips on hers and Ella moved her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with passion.

They were interrupted when the Prince was tapped on his shoulder.

"Hey, Harming! You're on in ten, okay?"

The Prince replied, "Thanks", and turned once more to Ella.

"So, Cinders, shall we see what these machines are all about before I race?"

"Harming?" Ella looked enquiringly at the Prince.

"Yes, Cinders. Like you, I have an assumed name for occasions like this. Just call me Charles Harming. Wouldn't do to let them know I'm a prince now, would it?"

Ella looked at the Prince without reaction. And then she slowly started to shake her head in disbelief. This had to be the most bizarre night of her life and yet, things had never felt so right.

"What?" The Prince asked.

"I was just thinking. Two things. How are you going to explain away your not being there for the dance at midnight? What about your princess? And tradition?"

The Prince smiled mischievously and said, "I think you'll find that is under control" and pulled her to him. As he went to kiss her, Ella pushed him back and said "Wait!"

"What?"

"Two things, remember?"

The Prince sighed, still holding her close. "Yes?" he asked.

"Can I race too?"

The Prince threw his head back again, laughing loudly and said, "Of course!"