Perception ✔

24 Addled & Afflicted

Never had I known such pain in this heartache. My body literally hurt. Each breath I drew came with a sting. The sudden end to everything, coupled with the betrayal, rendered me bedridden the next day.

Try as I might, I could not rise.

With the royal ball fast approaching, I did not have the luxury of self-doubt.

I dwelled on that conversation two nights ago, wondering what I could have done differently.

Perhaps nothing.

Piglet brought me food in the morning, but I covered my head, too ashamed to allow her to see what had become of her once strong mother. Rendered useless, completely useless.

Each uneaten meal went back. When Cinderella risked coming in at suppertime, I stared through her.

Her food caught my eye, however, because for the first time in my life, I was losing my wits.

More than once, tears threatened to fall but I blinked them back.

Cinderella said nothing as she retreated.

By day three, exactly three days away from the ball, I forced myself to get up in the morning. There was much to do.

But food was a problem. I simply stared at the bowls before me, unable to muster up the strength needed to even lift a spoon.

Finally, I said to Cinderella, "You make me something."

She, having been perfectly on time, paused in her careful soup eating and stared at me.

Her gaze drifted from Piglet and Poppy's confused expression then back to me yet again. Cinderella looked ready to run.

Instead of fleeing, however, she bowed her head and stood. The way she folded her serviette and pushed her chair in surprised me.

Poppy's smile of approval meant she'd been teaching Cinderella in this final week.

What had happened to my smart, tenacious Poppy? She knew Cinderella had no chance of pulling this off and would only drag them all down in the end.

Ten minutes later, Cinderella returned with the promised meal. I forced myself to eat it.

That was foolish; it nearly came back up.

Piglet let her worry show. "Mother, are you all right?"

But I wasn't. Far from it.

I attempted to nod but wasn't sure if I'd managed it.

They ate properly, Cinderella nearly fooling even me in the way she daintily partook in her meal, dabbed her mouth, folded her serviette, and stood.

Once they were gone, I felt weak. I nearly cried.

No. No one was worth my tears. Especially not a man who would betray me so bitterly.

Time faded in a blur and on the day of the royal ball, each girl stood at attention as I inspected her dress.

It was Cinderella who stunned us all. She wore the pink dress Poppy'd made for her.

Chest pushed out in pride, Cinderella waited for my scrutiny. Her smile grew as I took her in. The dress looked good enough, and Cinderella, someone with barely any formal training, achieved something marvelous now.

There was much to boast about; the gown barely appeared damaged.

Poppy wouldn't look at us and I saw why once I inched close enough.

"I don't think this will work, Cinderella," I said.

Cinderella blinked herself back to reality. "What? But whatever do you mean? This was my dress and I've repaired it with my two hands, as we'd agreed." She searched my cold expression for any silver lining. "Are you not pleased with what I've done? I worked quite hard for it."