Perception ✔

23 Gamble & Choice

A shadow hung over me and I wished I understood it. Food had no taste and all the simple things I'd found pleasurable now brought the opposite effect.

I loathed seeing Edmond each morning as he put out our food. Beyond words, I abhorred it. Now when he brushed by me, I wanted to either burst into tears, vomit, or both.

He'd been right about everything.

But what had I expected? My level head agreed with him. The day he presented a new young porter to work around the house, I knew his time of departure had come.

I suppose Cinderella noticed the change the morning she arrived late for breakfast to find no meal awaiting her.

She threw herself down into her chair and took pause at the well-eaten meal.

As usual, her big eyes trained on me. "I'm sorry I'm late. But I was working on my dress."

She waited for the praise I usually offered but I could muster up nothing, not with my heart slowly crumbling within itself.

Poppy and Piglet stood but that was unnecessary. They could bear witness to this very old rule, renewed.

Without a word, I rose to my feet and walked out.

Behind me, Poppy held Cinderella's shoulder, per her habit when delivering bad news. "We must always be on time for meals, Cinderella."

"What? But I was late with good reason. And I hadn't slept. I've been up. Are—are you saying I shan't have anything?"

Piglet asked her sister, "Perhaps we can find an apple tree. Would Mother mind that?"

The chair made a ruckus as Cinderella stood. "You needn't trouble yourselves."

She barreled out and I caught her by the arm, an action that made her wince.

When our eyes met, I told her, "You are the oldest girl in this house. You're sixteen and you'll be seventeen soon enough." I let her go with a shove. "Act like it and move like a woman and less so like a gazelle."

The admonishment left her stunned. Her eyes grew wider when she realized my seriousness.

"I—I suppose you're in a bad mood," was all she managed.

Perhaps I was. I stepped past her and waited in the hall for Piglet and Poppy to arrive. They took longer than I expected. Piglet spilled out of the dining room, an act I did not appreciate, with something behind her back.

Once all three of them stood before me, awaiting their orders for chores, I narrowed my eyes at my two youngest. Piglet nudged Cinderella who nearly looked at her but thought better of it. She received whatever it was in Piglet's hand, then dropped it.

"Oh no." Cinderella snatched up the bread roll then stood at attention again.

I pretended not to notice. She could pay for it in other ways.

"Very well," I told Piglet, "since you are so fond of stealing food, you can have double the chores this morning."

Piglet's posture sank but not for long. Finally, she drew herself up and nodded.

Poppy was in charge of the second floor. Piglet the first. Cinderella would get the windows, as usual. The meagerest of efforts.

But then Cinderella had the nerve to utter something to me that I found ignorant.

"Why don't we have the cook clean?"

Poppy and Piglet gave an audible gasp.

Per her habit, Poppy explained, "That isn't her job. And besides, we don't pay her enough to justify such work, Cinderella. People have certain jobs. People have certain stations. It's best not to abuse them."