A Grim Fairy Tale

Chapter Thirty-Two

Charlotte was the main focus of that evening. Many men became infatuated with her at first glance. A large number of the younger gentlemen would invite Charlotte for a dance and she would politely accept yet when they would attempt to keep her company for longer than that dance, she would kindly turn them down. She just didn't know what to think of them and she was very much oblivious to their attraction toward her.

The only fellow she danced with that evening who carried no shred of desire for her was King Stolas of Austria. Stolas had always been a very loyal ally to the royal family, a longtime friend of King Percival, and he almost viewed Charlotte as a niece. She in turn nearly saw him as an uncle.

"You've blossomed splendidly your grace." He told her as they danced. "Seems like only yesterday you were Percival's little princess whom I gave a kitten to and now, now you're so grown up."

He glanced over at the Princess Octavia who was conversing with some friendly guests.

"In a few years my own little princess will be your age and I'll have to find her a husband. A husband who will take her away from me. Oh where did the years go?"

Stolas pulled a handkerchief from his coat and blew his nose at the bittersweet thought. Charlotte gave him a comforting smile.

"I'm sure that even if Octavia marries, you'll still be a big part of her life." She assured him. "And just think of the beautiful grandchildren she'll give you. I haven't seen you in years but I have a feeling you still love to spoil little ones."

"That is true." He sniffed. "But enough about my silly woes. You and your family are the talk of the kingdom tonight. And may I say that your gown is magnificent, and those hair adornments are quite familiar making. I believe they made have been crafted from the silver and diamond trees I gave your father."

"I believe you might be right." Charlotte giggled. "Again I thank you for being here tonight. I know things are not easy back in your domain."

"It is what is dear."

"How are you fairing with Queen Stella?"

"Not any better I'm afraid. We've been able to keep our arguments private in order to preserve our good reputation and Octavia's. We'll be amicable for her sake, finding a good husband for her will not be easy if our family strife is made public."

"And once Octavia marries?"

"I don't know what will come from then on. It's a pity that only the English believe in divorce. You know Austria could learn a lot from other nations."

"Speaking of other nations, have you ever heard anything from my father today? I was told that he would be here by the ball but he is still absent."

"I'm afraid not sweetheart. It is very odd though. Percival has always been a punctual man. It isn't like him to be this late."

"What about my stepmother? Have you heard her mention anything about my father's return tonight?"

"Nothing that she hasn't said to everyone here."

"Alright but if you learn anything about him, anything at all, please let me know."

"You'll be the first person I inform."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now as much as I enjoy dancing with you Charlotte, I simply cannot leave my sweet Octavia to the mercy of potential suitors. So will you kindly excuse me to share the next dance with my daughter?"

"Of course."

When she finished her dance with Stolas, a young gentleman asked her to dance and so did another and another. Soon she was dancing with one smitten fellow after the next. Throughout the dance she ask all the guests if they had seen or heard anything in regards to her father but not one of them had any information to give her. As it became late Charlotte started to worry and her anxiety, combined with all the dancing she had been doing eventually overwhelmed her. So she decided to step outside and perhaps take a quiet walk in order to catch her breath and recompose herself. Maybe even spot her father arriving at the castle's entrance on his steed.

As for Desdemona, she had been watching the young princess with eyes of great envy and rage. Such dreadful emotions stung her like a scorpion and it twisted her blackened heart so terribly. With each smile someone gave Charlotte, the queen threw her a nasty glare. She almost felt ill at how beautiful her stepdaughter was and how much attention was paying to her.

"Fools!" She cursed internally. "How dare they fawn over her and ignore me! She may be a pretty little thing, but she's certainly not anything special! And surely she cannot compare to me. Just what is wrong with all these people?"

Once Charlotte had left the ballroom to calm down and rest, Desdemona stalked away toward her private chambers. She carefully closed and locked the doors behind herself then approached her sacred looking glass. Though she was certain that Charlotte's beauty was no match for hers, she felt the need to have that belief confirmed. So once again she asked the magic mirror that very same question. The only question that she ever really asked it.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall. " She spoke. "Who is the fairest of them all?"

The answer was going to be the same. She was sure it was. It had always been the same answer for the last nineteen years. The answer which stated that Desdemona alone was the most beautiful woman in all the land. But much to her terror and fury, the mirror gave her an answer of a different sort. Yes a very different sort indeed. An answer she would not like. An answer that she would detest. An answer that would cause her dark soul to despise a most innocent one.

"Her skin is pure as snow, her eyes set hearts a glow.

Within her love's light shines and never dies.

Queen Desdemona, you are most fair tis true.

But Princess Charlotte is a thousand-times more lovely than you."