Chapter 35--Look The Part

For once the contestants were spared of getting ready in the cramped and dreary tower. Instead they'd been invited to the castle in advance, with each girl provided with a separate chamber for royal ball preparations.

In Myrielle's chamber, borrowed jewels were laid out on an opulent dressing table, but her attention was captured by something far more significant.

She was kneeling down in front of a large box, and holding out a magnificent gown that was worthy of a royal ball. It was sparkling white with pale pink accents, with every piece of embroidery having been added by her mother's loving hands. She hugged the gown and could almost feel her mother right there with her. The affection-through-osmosis began reminding her of her purpose in this pre-determined spectacle, trickling through the fog of discontent that had enveloped her for days.

She stood to place the gown in front of her body when something inside the lining caught her eye; it was a message sewn into the fabric in red thread: "I know you can do this!" She smiled her first genuine smile in ages, as the little family reminder gave her strength to see this through until the end...

***

With gown now on and jewels in place, Myrielle examined herself in the mirror. Her dark hair was curled and cascading down one side, and the sparkling royal ball gown was a perfect fit. She finally resembled a society-approved princess, and as she did a little twirl and watched the gown's glittering skirt spin around her, she succumbed to that alluring drug that allowed simple peasants to feel as fierce as the royals: fashion porn.

Each new twirl was a fairytale hallucinogen, bringing her closer to a world where being a princess equaled happiness. It was the same world where Cinderella was actually as kind and decent as she'd seemed in Gianni's book. She snorted at the thought and twirled some more, letting the illusion take hold.

"Knock knock!" said Fairy Godmother's voice from behind the door.

Myrielle abruptly stopped spinning, which caused her to trip and fall over an ottoman. She held her head in her hands and tried to focus her eyes. "More than three spins? Excessive. Duly noted."

"Let me in," Fairy Godmother insisted, knocking on the door with force.

Myrielle smirked in the direction of the door. "Why don't you walk through the door with your powers?" The contest was nearly over now, so it seemed a good time to ridicule Fairy Godmother for her total lack of magical abilities. It was strange how everyone idolized Fairy Godmother, when Myrielle was now poised to become the next princess without any semblance of help from her supposed mentor.

Myrielle continued smirking as Fairy Godmother entered the chamber powered by zero-percent magic. Upon seeing Myrielle she was speechless, overwhelmed, and unable to move, but not in a 'too many goblets of wine' type of way; this was different.

"You're simply gorgeous," she exclaimed, complete with a heavy sigh. "Even if this isn't where you truly belong..."

Myrielle rose to her feet and frowned. "Well that's not a very encouraging start to the evening."

"Maybe you shouldn't be focused on the start," she responded, a cryptic expression in her eyes. "Maybe it's time to face the end of this charade."

Myrielle glanced around the room in paranoia; was someone listening? Was it Gianni? Was he furiously taking notes for another made-up scene in this contest? "This isn't a charade," she said robotically, convinced someone was listening and poised for some final blackmail. "This is...my destiny."

Fairy Godmother laughed and plopped into the nearest armchair. "That's a bit much, don't you think?" She pulled out her flask and took a swig.

As Myrielle watched her openly drink, she realized they weren't being watched after all. "Why are you acting so strangely? I mean aside from the copious amounts of wine, although I guess that's normal since you've been having it for weeks."

Fairy Godmother raised an eyebrow. "You noticed?"

"Only as much as I noticed that water is a liquid, and that the king's thighs make a funny sound when they rub against each other in his special satin tights."

Fairy Godmother chuckled. "They do, they do..."

"So why are you here?"

"I'm here because this is the moment," she said. "The moment when your Fairy Godmother turns things around." She seemed extremely impressed with her supposed abilities, but it wasn't crossing over into Myrielle's reaction.

Myrielle grabbed an ottoman and sat down next to Fairy Godmother. "What exactly is there to turn around? It's almost the end now and everything will be better once it's over." She gulped hard. "Or when it begins...my new life, that is."

Fairy Godmother gave her a long look. "Let's skip the pretending shall we? I saw you in the last elimination, and I've seen you for the past two weeks. You don't love him; you don't even like him!"

Myrielle shrugged. "Cinderella told us that love doesn't matter; she even laughed at me when I asked about it."

Fairy Godmother's caring expression contorted into rage. "Cinderella is a gold-digging harpy!" She struggled to get out of her chair and once she was finally out, she started pacing back and forth in a wobbly fashion. "She was clever, that wench, I'll give her that; getting what she wanted under the guise of love...clever indeed."

"So she tricked you?"

Fairy Godmother pulled out her wand in a furious reflex. "I do not get tricked. The only thing I did wrong was show her kindness and a helping hand." She emitted a low growl as she reflected back on the moment. "And for what? To have her toss me away once she got everything she wanted?"

Myrielle shook her head in amazement. "Wretched little harpy indeed..."

"I promised myself I would never waste my time helping anyone again," she said bitterly. "But then you came along."

Even though Fairy Godmother had zero powers and was a functioning alcoholic, Myrielle was touched that she would set aside her bitterness to help her. "I'm glad you found me worthy," she said. "But if you look at the facts you'll realize I'm a different sort of harpy altogether..." She bowed her head in remembrance of her past mistakes.

"What I realize is that nobody's perfect." She burped. "See?"

"But I ravaged a poor girl's face, and I sent the only person I've ever...cared for to a miserable life of cleaning dungeons!"

"That's one interpretation," Fairy Godmother said. "Because what I remember is how the bully's face healed just fine, and that the one you sent to clean the dungeons wasn't exactly robbed of an incredible life. Unless you consider bathing the king on a nightly basis to be a wonderful life. Just think...scrubbing all those food crumbs? The multiple layers of grease?" She shuddered. "And just so we're being clear you didn't care for him, you fell in love with him. And still do."

Myrielle could hardly believe how this drunken old lady had said more lucid things in the last two minutes than anyone in the royal family combined. "I suppose I did," she said shyly. "But that's all over now."

Fairy Godmother found her way back to the sweet relief of her armchair. "Oof! All that pacing was exhausting!" She took another swig of wine and locked her gaze on Myrielle. "But what if it wasn't over? What if you had a chance to get him back and make things right?"

Myrielle looked from the flask to Fairy Godmother's reddened eyes to the fake wand sticking out of her cloak, and it was all she needed to realize she was spouting off nonsense again. "You can't change the circumstances," she said. "You just can't."

"I'll admit than any solution will involve you taking charge and doing most of the work yourself, but there is a way to get there; a door of opportunity if you choose to walk through it."

Myrielle prided herself in mental fortitude, and even if it faltered from time to time (turkey legs, cute dimples, fashion porn), she was intent on blocking out this well-meaning drunk's wild ideas. "What I choose to do is walk right past the door and keep going." She nodded. "My mission is clear and I'll see it through."

"Mission?" Fairy Godmother rolled her eyes. "This isn't war, this is love! So go and re-capture that tight-bottomed lad!"

Myrielle momentarily lost herself in the imagery of Fredrick's butt, but once again her mental fortitude prevailed. "When I first held that gown, and saw my mother's note that told me I could do this, it reminded me why I tried to sell my soul like a piece of turkey meat in the first place." She clutched her chest. "And while I might've run away with Fredrick before...if I do it now the kingdom's debt won't just magically disappear; or do you have a special solution for that as well?"

Fairy Godmother slumped her shoulders. "Not a one."

"Then the choice is clear."

Fairy Godmother still wasn't convinced. "So you'll do your duty, and the debt? Poof! It'll be gone. But then what?"

"Then I'll take the throne and do some good for the rest of us! Food infrastructure... re-opening the academy..."

Fairy Godmother squeezed her hand and smiled sweetly. "It's so precious to see a woman who thinks she could actually have financial and political influence."

Myrielle frowned. "Cleopatra did it!"

"Right...and how did that work out for her again?"

Myrielle lowered her head. "Suicide in the name of love."

"See? If you choose political power over love you'll just end up committing suicide anyway."

Myrielle narrowed her eyes. "I'm pretty sure that's not the moral of the story..."

"All I'm saying is that even when you're on that throne, the queen and prince will block your noble motives every step of the way."

Myrielle shrugged. "Then I accept the challenge." She watched Fairy Godmother take another drink. "May I have some?"

Fairy Godmother grinned. "It's about time you start drinking!" She handed her the flask. "Daily wine is the only way you'll survive being married to that pathetic man-boy cretin."

Myrielle faked a smile and raised the flask. "Hear hear!" She took a slow drink, and then another, and then a full on swig. "Wow; this is amazing!"

Fairy Godmother clapped her on the shoulder. "Welcome to my world!"

As the alcohol set in between burps and idle chitchat, Myrielle's mind was being robbed of its usual filters. "He's a great kisser," she said fondly.

Fairy Godmother sighed. "I remember kisses..."

"But love has so many consequences," she added, her alcohol-mood shifting fast. "I mean look at where Fredrick ended up, and all because he let himself fall in love." She shook her head. "So why even bother?"

"Don't ask me, I'm sixty-seven."

They both burst into laughter, and as they started to catch their breath, a grandfather clock from somewhere in the castle echoed to announce the crucial hour.

Myrielle took one last swig from the flask. "Let's do this."

She stood and made her way to the chamber door, because the royal ball of reckoning had come...

[WRITER'S COMMENTARY: I wonder what Fairy Godmother's solution was...might be too late to find out, the royal ball's about to start! Eeek!]