Cinderson

Arrival

The entire ride to the palace Seth fiddled anxiously with Kendra's charm bracelet. He was guaranteed a way in now, but this was vastly different from anything he'd imagined. His previous daydreams evaporated, leaving him with the uncertain and tedious reality of wading through all the maidens Fae Kingdom had to offer, searching for the most important one. He had sudden sympathy for Prince Bracken.

Seth was jolted out of his thoughts when the coach came to a halt. His heart stuttered, finally voicing its concerns over this stunt. But it was too late to stop now. And even if he could turn around, he wouldn't. It would all be worth it when he and Kendra left this palace together. His footman (previously a lizard, if he remembered correctly) opened the door for him and he scooted his way out of the cushioned interior of his pumpkin. He gratefully took the lizard footman's hand to help him down the stairs and managed not to stumble when his feet met the ground. He smoothed his dress down then put a hand to his hair, as if to fuss with it, before thinking better of it and dropping the offending hand.

"Well, I guess there's no point staling, huh?" He said with a nervous laugh, still unused to his flowery voice. The lizard footman gave no response, just smiled and bowed, arm extended towards the palace. "Right. Well, here we go." And he went. Straight down the path, and up the stairs to the castle— slowly and deliberately, so as not to trip or start sweating off all his makeup. He was starting to admire his steps for being able to traipse about in fussy gowns and heels seemingly without effort, because he was finding it difficult to not step on any hems or twist any ankles. It didn't help that he was painfully aware of how late he was. No one but the guards were around. There must have been thousands of guests, and yet he was alone in his lateness. He marveled at the timelines of them all. He'd never been to an event in which there weren't a few stragglers, and those were only small gatherings. His wonder turned to worry. Maybe latecomers weren't allowed. Maybe he'd be barred from the ball after all. But as he reached the top of the stairs, the guards opened the tall doors for him. He smiled at them, relief amplifying his gratitude. They nodded smartly, eyes on him. He felt their gazes long after he'd passed them. Can they tell?

His heels click-clacked as he hurried down the corridor, eyes skimming the walls for any sign of a door, ears straining for any sound of a ball. He was starting to worry at the lack of doors when the low rumble of a crowd reached his ears. He almost broke into a trot in his eagerness to arrive, but forced himself to instead slow down and take deep breathes. This was it. He would soon enter into the heart of the palace. The room that, with any luck, held Kendra. But also the room that would determine his fate. Would his disguise hold up? Would credentials be checked after all? Would he be discovered? Or turned away for some other reason?

"I can do this," Seth muttered to himself as the grand doors that must lead to the ballroom came into view. "Just pull up your big girl panties and pretend like you belong. You've got this. You had better got this." He stopped briefly in front of the doors, dark wood with beautiful engravings and gold leafing. "For Kendra." And with that he flung the doors open and marched into the party.

Really, he'd meant to slip in quietly. The first mistake he'd made was pushing hard on the doors. He'd assumed them to be heavy and reluctant to move. He'd assumed wrong. Hence flinging the doors open. He had also incorrectly assumed that no one would be much interested in a straggler. All eyes found him as he burst into the room. He smiled nervously at the crowd below him, trying not to show his discomfort. His eyes darted around the room trying to seek out Kendra. He did not see her face in the masses, but he did see a lot of people looking at him in the same way the guards at the doors had. What did those looks mean? He hastened to join the dance floor below him, hesitating momentarily at which staircase to take down. Left or right? Was there a difference? He chose the right one, as it was closest and hurried down the steps. His heels click-clack-click-clacked in loud staccato beats down the stairs and he held tightly to the rail, hoping not to fall.