Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale

by Lenore, Lani

  Cindy awoke to the gentle touch of a hand caressing her face. When she opened her eyes, there was no one there.

  Hearing a loud pounding on her door, Cindy raised her head to see the sun shining through the curtains. Amanda had told her not to come out until morning no matter what her sisters said to her, but since she saw that the sun was indeed up, she might as well rise.

  Walking in front of a dirty mirror on her way to the door, Cindy stopped to examine her hair. She had almost forgotten that she had cut it – and why had she been asked to? She stared curiously, wondering how long it had been since she'd recognized herself, until more pounding on the door shook her from her thoughts.

  “I’m coming!” she yelled in disgust, finally going to the door and unbolting the lock.

  She was greeted by the two distressed faces of her sisters, whose expressions quickly changed to horror and confusion when they saw her hair.

  “What have you done?” Charlotte asked in alarm.

  “I cut my hair,” she replied simply. “You have a problem with that now?”

  “Well–I,” Charlotte sputtered, but was halted quickly with a shake of Isabella’s head.

  “This is not what we have come to say,” she said urgently. “You must come with us to mother’s room immediately.”

  “What happened?” Cindy inquired, knowing that something was wrong.

  “It’s not as though you care, but mother has fallen dreadfully sick overnight. She’s vomiting constantly and you simply must come with us now!”

  Sick? Serves her right.

  Cindy followed the two girls without questioning, more curious than anything about what could have happened to their mother. She had seemed fine the day before.

  As soon as Cindy entered the room, she could smell the sickness. The putrid stench of vomit was in the air. Isabella and Charlotte refused to enter therein, afraid they might soon catch it themselves. Anna was lying in her bed and unmoving when Cindy entered, her fair skin clammy with sweat. The woman’s eyes were swelled and fever was upon her – there was no doubt.

  Cindy shook her head in fear of the illness and turned back to the door that her sisters had shut on her.

  “I don’t know what is wrong with her,” she insisted, pushing on the door to get out. She was no doctor, and she had no desire to catch this plague herself.

  “Well stay in there until you do!” ordered Isabella, holding the door closed.

  “What’s going on?” came a voice. Cindy heard the voice through the door as she pressed against it, and likewise Isabella and Charlotte turned their heads to see the figure that approached behind them. Amanda had swooped down from the stairs, a long dressing gown trailing behind her. She looked too beautiful for this time of morning, and Isabella felt suddenly outdone. She held her nose a little higher and stood her ground. This stranger did not need to be involved in their business.

  “Our mother has fallen ill,” Charlotte blurted anyway, truly concerned.

  Isabella stood without a word, clenching the doorknob behind her back.

  “Let me in to see her,” Amanda ordered.

  “Cindy is tending to her,” Isabella insisted firmly.

  Amanda flashed her black eyes at the girl. “Cindy knows nothing about medicine. I have some experience with nursing and I would know better than she does about what is wrong with your mother. Surely you can understand that. Didn’t your own mother once do some nursing herself?”

  They stood at a confrontation for several moments, eyeing each other carefully, but it was eventually Isabella who felt a weakness in her legs and backed down. She stepped from the door with an evil glare and allowed the woman to enter. Amanda did not waste time opening up the infected room, walking in to take a good look at the woman.

  “Don’t touch her, Cindy,” she ordered, but there was not much fear of Cindy doing so. She kept herself pressed against the wall beside the door.

  Amanda felt Anna’s forehead where the hair was plastered to her face, noting the look of her eyes. After a moment, she turned back to Isabella.

  “This woman is very sick. I am not sure what is wrong with her. I have never seen such sickness come on so quickly. I will need you two to go and fetch the doctor,” she said.

  “Why can’t Cindy do it?” whined Charlotte, clearly more concerned for her own feet than for her mother’s health.

  “This is your mother!” Amanda said in disbelief. “Besides, I need Cindy here to aid me – unless you two would rather do that.”

  Isabella shot a sharp look at her sister.

  “Let’s go,” she instructed, hurrying Charlotte out of the room.

  “Get the doctor here as quickly as possible!” Amanda called after them.

  Cindy watched her sisters leave and then slowly approached the bed, taking care not to come too close. Anna certainly looked ill and Cindy knew that if she caught it herself, no one would bat an eyelash to watch her die.

  “What would you have me do?” Cindy asked Amanda, wondering what the woman had in mind.

  The woman looked back at her with a shine in her dark eyes. Her lips curved slightly into a smile.

  “I would have you to sit and listen,” she said, motioning for her to sit on the bed’s end.

  “But – the sickness,” Cindy stammered. “Is it even safe for us to be in the same room?”

  Amanda chuckled at the girl’s concern. “The illness that has fallen on your step-mother has no contagious germ,” she explained. “It is an old illness, brought on by hatred and the use of an infected item.”

  Cindy’s eyes rounded as she wrapped her mind around what the woman was saying.

  “A curse?” questioned Cindy. “You have done this?”

  Amanda raised her hand and ran it across the sick woman’s face, causing her eyes to close and sending her out of consciousness. Amanda turned to Cindy with a look of worry. The girl felt that bad news was soon to follow.

  “Last night I had a disturbing revelation,” Amanda began.

  Cindy took this time to sit on the bed as she had been instructed.

  “I asked the forces for confirmation of my plans. The answer I received was quite distressing. They spoke in tongues I didn’t know, yet I understood them. They made a prophecy that, unlike my first, cannot be altered. I am profoundly afraid – for you.”

  “What did they say to you?” she asked cautiously, likewise afraid of the answer.

  Amanda took a slow and steady breath. “They said: After a joining of troubled souls, eight of the living shall be of the dead. One shall die a public death; three shall die of a strange illness; two will die together on the road; another shall be cast into the fire. The other will die by his own merit. So shall it be.”

  Cindy considered the words of the prophecy, already thinking that she was seeing one of those deaths before her.

  A strange illness...

  “What does it mean?” Cindy asked in curious fear.

  “It means to be on your guard, Cindy. Watch yourself, but keep a closer watch on young Mr. Charming. I feel a dark disturbance gathering around him – and fear for his life.”

  “There is no way to know who it will be that dies?”

  “I asked, but the forces would not reveal it to me. I am afraid we are on our own,” Amanda said regretfully. “What will be, will be. You must remember this.”

  Cindy nodded at her words, looking at the sick woman on the bed. Amanda had assured her that the illness was not contagious, but after hearing those words, Cindy was not so sure of it.

  Three will die of a strange illness…

  “Go and fetch a bowl of warm water and a rag for her head. We must keep up appearances until the doctor arrives.”

  Amanda cast her eyes down with no emotion, looking at the sickly woman as if she was no more than a pestilence that was being stomped out.

  “I do believe that this will be death number one.”

  2

  Christian had not slept at all. After the party was over and all th
e guests had trailed off into the night, the young man had paced the floor, smoking within his room with closed windows even though he was not allowed, indulging in a flask of brandy to aid his thoughts. Many times, he headed for the door, but not once did he go out.

  I’m going to her, he thought.

  No, she doesn’t want me to.

  He rubbed his eyes until they were red and dark. He sighed so many times that he felt dizzy for all the air he expelled. He sat. He stood back up. He deliberated for hours and drank and smoked.

  Now, in the early light of morning, he was angry.

  How could Cindy do this to him? Perhaps that was simply the sort of girl she was – one who appeared as a tease to rip the heart from his chest and vanish into the night, never to be seen again. That was what it felt like to him. She was gone, and possibly not thinking of him at all, and yet here he was, finding himself traumatized by her leave. A man should not have to feel this way - not over a woman!

  He threw the bottle against the wall where it burst into shards. The small amount of remaining liquid splashed out, staining the wall and floor. How could he possibly escape her? How? And what was the van Burrens’ excuse for treating the girl so terribly? He’d seen her room, shut away in the attic, separated from everything else. Surely it was them who had made the girl so afraid. They had kept her from him.

  If he could not have what he wanted; they would not have what they wanted either.

  Having heard the bottle smash, Samantha came up from bed in her dressing gown, opening her son’s door to see what the disturbance was. She saw the broken glass and the dent in the plaster. She saw how her son was pacing and smoking so intensely – so uncharacteristic of him.

  “Christian! What on earth?” she scolded in confusion.

  The young man looked at his mother, just noticing that she was there, breathing heavily in his torment. He looked straight into her eyes, and she shivered to see the ungodliness therein.

  “I’ve made my decision,” he rasped. "I'm ready to choose."

  3

  “I’m afraid I cannot tell you what is wrong with her,” said Doctor Jameson after he had looked Anna over. “The fever is most assuredly upon her and I see she is very weak, though I am not sure what has caused her illness. I’m afraid it is possible she may not last much longer.”

  They all stood in the front parlor, listening to the doctor's news. Charlotte looked down with a solemn face while Isabella held her breath and looked into his eyes.

  “I have assigned her medicine that should be given to her every hour,” he said, his full attention directed to Isabella and Charlotte. “I do not know what illness has stricken your mother, ladies. For now, this is all I can do. However, you are lucky to have Miss Jefferson staying in your house. Amanda is an old friend and able nurse,” he said, motioning towards the woman. “She has agreed to stay and tend to your mother until I can return tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” said Isabella somberly.

  “Yes, thank you,” Charlotte copied. Jameson nodded his goodbye and left the house.

  “Well, you heard the doctor,” Amanda said to them after the door had closed. “It’s best that you both stay away from the room, lest you become sick as well. Come along, Cindy.”

  Isabella and Charlotte had no words in their mouths for this, and Cindy followed Amanda up the stairs and back toward Anna’s room.

  “How is it that you know Doctor Jameson?” Cindy inquired quietly. “Was he concerned in the business you said you had come to town for?”

  “My only business in this town is you, Cindy,” Amanda told her, stopping on the stairs and offering her a smile. The girl was chilled by it. “I actually don’t know the doctor at all. I simply put it into his head that we had met.” She laughed, and the sound was clear and nearly too beautiful. “I’m not actually a nurse, and yet better all the same.”

  They had reached the door of Anna’s room, and Amanda turned to her directly. “You go on and have some rest. I will take care of all this.”

  Amanda then went hastily into the woman’s room, closing the door behind her so that the sickness would not get out, leaving Cindy standing there, aghast.

  4

  Below in the parlor, Isabella sat down on the settee and Charlotte followed her, a lost lamb who could not function on her own.

  “What will happen to us if mother dies?” asked Charlotte, a tone of worry in her voice.

  Charlotte’s voice was teetering on the verge of tears, but Isabella’s was firm and dutiful.

  If she dies, it will not change anything.

  “I shall marry Christian, of course,” said Isabella, perhaps a bit coldly, “and her plans for that will no longer matter.”

  “You would not comply with mother’s wishes, even after her death?” Charlotte asked, astonished.

  “I see no need for it,” said Isabella. “Why should we still plot to kill Christian once I marry him? He could be just as much use to us alive.”

  “That was not what we discussed!” insisted Charlotte quietly. “What if he was to catch on to us?”

  “Let it be,” Isabella said.

  Charlotte stared back at her sister for a few moments in disbelief. Isabella sat silently, refusing to look at her.

  “You have fallen in love with him!” Charlotte accused.

  “Of course I have!” Isabella cried, more loudly than she should have.

  Charlotte shook her head in disapproval. “Did mother teach you nothing? You must never fall in love!”

  “Keep your voice down,” scolded Isabella, glancing around nervously. “What does it matter anyway? I will have him and then we will have our riches. He doesn’t have to die. It will be the same.”

  “What about moving on to the next?” Charlotte asked.

  “There shall be no ‘next’. We haven’t a need for ‘next’. There is something else you will help me do, however,” the girl said, green eyes piercing.

  Charlotte shook her head. “Not if it isn’t in mother’s plan,” she protested. “She has made a plan for us! The only way to be safe is to follow it!”

  Isabella grabbed hold of her sister’s arm forcefully, pulling her nearer until they were face to face.

  “You listen to me!” Isabella said heatedly. “You will help me do this! You will listen to what I say! Mother is as good as dead in there with that woman. Don’t you see? And we are next! Something must, and will, be done!”

  Charlotte sighed – as many times before – in defeat. Her sister had again been the greater power, and she would have to settle for whatever the girl said. The red-head was a puppet, controlled by whoever would take the strings. Sadly, the poor thing never caught on to her misfortune.

  The pounding sound of the knocker against the front door shook the girls from their thoughts.

  “Cindy!” Isabella yelled, startling her sister. “Come to the door!”

  After a moment, Cindy emerged from the stairs, quite dirty and ragged as usual. She walked to the door and opened it, allowing a small brunette and a rush of daylight into the house.

  “Tilly?” questioned Isabella, struggling to regain her composure and rising along with Charlotte. “What are you doing here?”

  “News has just been released as to who Christian has chosen to be his wife,” Tilly the gossip said. “I’ve just taken the liberty to deliver it around town.”

  After opening the door, Cindy lingered in the room, pretending to straighten up a shelf of books, but couldn’t help but listen with interest. She went unnoticed for the moment, but it did not keep her palms from growing damp. And shaking. What would the result be? She prayed that it was not one of her sisters.

  “Who is it?” Isabella asked anxiously, though already fearing the worst.

  It’s not me. Her breath caught in her chest.

  “It’s strange,” said Tilly. “No one knows who she is. She doesn’t even live here, and she wasn’t even at the party! She’s from the country. Her name is Morgana Thompson. Some have
said she’s a relative of Beatrice Charming, his brother’s wife. Only fifteen! The girl is on her way and will be coming in tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” said Charlotte in distress while Isabella’s face turned red with rage.

  “It was quite disappointing to all of us,” said Tilly with a sigh of whimsy, clearly taking small pleasure in letting everyone down. “I don’t think his mother is very pleased, but she is accepting it. It’s quite rude how he would rather marry a girl he doesn’t know than to marry one of us!”

  “Yes, quite rude,” Isabella muttered, but she had grown distant, slipping away from herself.

  “Well, I suppose that’s how it goes,” Tilly shrugged. “There is going to be another party for the girl tomorrow night. All the ladies of the town are invited, though it seems like an unwise idea. There are so many disappointed, jealous women in this town today!”

  Tilly laughed. Charlotte offered a smile in good spirits while Isabella only stared at the floor with a scowl.

  “Excuse me,” Isabella said finally, heading upstairs.

  Charlotte watched her go nervously and then turned her face back to Tilly.

  “Will she be alright?” the gossipy brunette asked.

  “Of course,” said Charlotte. “She just needs to cool down.” After a short moment of standing in silence, Charlotte looked straight forward with an insistent look. “You should leave now,” she said.

  Tilly was unsure of the girl’s rude behavior, but agreed quickly and turned to leave. Charlotte sent an unsure glance to Cindy before turning and hurrying upstairs after her sister. There was worry in her step. Cindy was left alone.

  Cindy wasn’t sure about what was going on, but she felt she had no reason to feel anxious any longer. So, Christian had already made his choice. She supposed he didn’t care who he chose. Since he had no preference and no true options, he could simply close his eyes and pick someone and it would all be the same to him.

  Though it had been her choice to tell him what she had the day before – of her feelings – she felt angry deep inside. Her whole world was full of anger now, and no matter how hard she tried to deny her feelings, they were still there, pressing back in like the darkness around a flame.