Time A Upon Once
Upon a time once, there was a girl, in ancient and forgotten lands, whose nominal denotator was Cinderella. Now, you may have heard tales of this lady before, however, it is time to set the historical record to rights. It is true that she grew up, much spoiled by an overly indulgent father, gaining an unseemly love for luxury and wealth. A character flaw that was to haunt her ever after. Rather, however, than portray him as a somewhat jovial and genial gentleman, I shall, instead, make the case that he was venal and petty and rather quite stupid.
For after accustoming his only progeny to a life of privilege and ease, he rather consigned her to a vile fate, for he married another, a step-mother, and ne'er a more conniving woman did you ever see. Then, the bumbling fool went off and got himself killed, illness, accident, or violence, any imbecile worth robbing would have hired guards to protect him from all three. Since we acknowledge, by the presumed luxury of their lives prior to his death, that he was worth robbing, and the dire straits they found themselves in, financially, after his death, one can only assume that he carried the vast bulk of his wealth with him. Further illustrating that amongst even nominally gifted-with-intelligence people, he was a mental midget.
However, Cinderella was a beautiful girl, as the gift of attractiveness cares not for the moral nor ethical foundation it is laid upon. And after three or four weeks of doing housework, and cleaning, which her step-mother worked hard to make sure she did the lion's share of, she agreed to be groomed for her performance. Her two step-sisters were unbecoming in countenance, shrill, and dull as paste, so while their jealousy of her was cruel and even vicious, even they realized Cinderella was the family's only chance to not starve to death, and became willing assistants to their ever clever mother.
First, an arranged chance encounter whilst the prince's hunting party cantered past. A coquettish flirt about rescuing small, cute, furry animals and she'd caught his eyes. Now the lure, for just as she'd enchanted him, she rode off into the forest, and into the bushes, where her sisters quickly slapped dust upon her horse, turning a charming bay into a bedraggled dun and hitched it to their farm wagon, as she dove into the hay. A slow, lazy walk home and the soldiers the prince had sent out to find the young damsel rode right past the dilapidated old wreck without a second glance.
Then, step-mother in her wisdom auctioned the horse, the cart, and the hay that had been in it and took the money to the court. Her pretense was merely that she was a minor noblette, visiting 'some cousin' from the country. Her purpose was to fan the prince's ardor, which she did by slipping rumors into the gossip of the court about the girl, rumors the prince was sure to hear, rumors that would keep him well and firmly hooked. His (Future) Royal Highness, of course, did the only logical thing, after a thorough search of the entire kingdom lead to nothing, he announced a ball, wherein every female in the kingdom was welcome. Step-mother, being quite the adventuress in her youth, though failing to hook anyone more interesting that Cinderella's idiot of a father, nonetheless possessed quite the tactical acumen and saw right through his lordship's ruse.
She mortgaged the farm, the next day, to the local money lender, everything they owned, the furniture, the pots and pans, right down to their last spare dress. She had a magnificent coach of gilt and paint and plaster and paper constructed, just the right glint to fool at a distance, or on a dark night. The footmen were a fisherman and his son she'd outfitted because they only needed coats and shirts to match, having possessed all the other necessary components of an outfit by the simple expedient of stripping their old army uniforms of all decoration. The half-blind, drunkard of a village priest was fitted with a great coat and hat, and rusted out old blunderbuss to stick the barrel of out of his coat, and sat in the driver's seat of the coach for the price of a bottle of wine. A magnificent dress was fashioned in the capitol of the neighboring kingdom, and bribes, treachery, and luck managed to get it to the house before their money ran out. The final step, shoes designed to only fit one person's foot, ever. Cinderella's.
The ball was an anticlimax, she flirted with her eyes, with her gasp-parted lips, with her dainty little white teeth that firmly bit her lower lip in shock or humor or admiration, so that she made a man feel like the smartest, most interesting and witty man in the world. The wine flowed and the spice and the smoke-plant, and she flirted, she teased, the closer the crucial hour came, the closer she got to letting his junior majesty down, up, and into her dress. His formal dress coat barely hiding his desperate lust. And then, the clock struck midnight, and all looked up to watch the day turn. All but Cinderella of course. For her 'fairy godmother' had told her that her coach would turn to mush if it rained as it was supposed to do after midnight, and her dress and hair would be ruined, and her driver would no longer be conscious. So she darted out of the palace, carefully arranging to leave one slipper behind.
And then, the hunt. HRM spent three months searching for her, having soldiers and courtiers meander around the kingdom, trying shoes on random women they accosted along their journey, six months passed, and women were being recorded who'd been tried before. His lordship was said to fall into a great funk, and began giving up, calling off all further attempts to locate her, except, when it was announced, he then began hearing rumors of the woman, rumors that guided his men ever closer, they'd seen someone around here that had worn those slippers that night, the next rumor knew the craftsmen, the next speculated which of several craftsmen it was, etc etc. Every time the prince began to lose hope, another clue or rumor or lead would pop up. Until finally, a year after she'd begun her little game, Cinderella let her future husband catch her, find her. The fitting the shoe, the protestations of love, that she did not know he was the king's son, that she was but a simple and poor peasant girl, that her fairy godmother had helped her for the ball. Like the fantasies of a child, and the prince, in his love besotted daze found her every utterance to be enchanting and even when completely ludicrous, worthy of his raptest attention. The proposal, marriage, coronation and quick execution of money lenders in her former home province were almost painful to play along with.
Because the prince was an idiot too. Young and foolish and raised to be king too young, as his father passed shortly after their wedding. Mysteriously. So that now, Cinderella was queen. No further historical record exists, suggesting she was neither a particularly good queen. But then since most of the other participants in our little tale were a few hairs shy of a horse's tail, it's no wonder she became known, not for her great statesmanship, or ruling, or reforms. But rather, for being the most famous seducer of princes in history.
K.