Chapter 37: May I Have This Dance?

On Gianni's signal a curtain rose and the final three contestants emerged. They came out in order of Josselyn, Bella and Myrielle, a strategic sequence determined by Gianni's show-producing expertise.

Josselyn wore a billowy sea-foam gown, while Bella's small waist had been squeezed into a tangerine number. It was clear that Rose had rigged the game, employing the 'ugly bridesmaids dresses' comparative standard of beauty. Her nepotism seemed to have worked like a charm, as the audience applauded gently for Josselyn and Bella, but gasped and cheered for Myrielle.

As the applause rained down on Myrielle, Bella suddenly seemed less certain in what she'd considered an inevitable win. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, she discreetly pulled her armpit flab into her cleavage.

Before hitting the stage the contestants made their way across the checkered marble dance floor, waving to their supposedly adoring fans.

Josselyn led the way to the red-carpeted staircase but Gianni blocked her path. Instead he turned the crowd's attention to a curtain that concealed something at the back of the ballroom. "As you know these princesses-in-training have been toiling away for weeks." He turned to Josselyn sympathetically. "And I imagine that at times it's been an isolating experience."

Josselyn nodded sadly. "Sometimes I talk to a wall."

A nearby table of bourgeois snobs started snickering, but Gianni silenced them with a stern look. "On this crucial night," he went on, "surely it would help to feel some genuine support; so what do you think, everyone?"

The audience cheered as Myrielle felt the inklings of a terrible gut feeling. The boisterous applause was everything Gianni had been hoping for. "The crowd has spoken, so let's find out what's waiting behind the curtain!"

A servant pulled back the curtain to reveal a cordoned off area that read "STANDING ROOM ONLY." Behind the fenced-in area stood the families of the final three contestants. The tall ones waving happily clearly belonged to Josselyn, the stern man and two ruffian twin brothers belonged to Bella, and Thomas, Rose, Emilia and Peter were there for Myrielle. Peter waved excitedly while leaning against the barrier for support, while Rose sent as many 'air kisses' as her hands would allow.

"Win it for us, sister!" shouted Emilia.

The amplifying boost they offered Myrielle was immediately absorbed as a helpless pit of misery. There was something so official about seeing her family cheering at the finish line; their expectations for her success...the disturbing feeling of what success would truly mean if she married the prince...

She inadvertently burped and covered her mouth, a nostalgic burp of therapeutic wine that she wished she could have more of immediately.

As Myrielle stood on the edge of alcoholism, the audience absorbed the twist of the family reveal. "Everything you've worked for comes down to these people standing in the corner; no pressure though!" Gianni wiped imaginary sweat off his forehead as the audience laughed. "I hope you enjoy your time here, families, as two thirds of you will never be invited here again!"

As the families began to size each other up, Gianni led the girls to the stage.

Myrielle found a spot close to Cinderella's throne, and it was only a matter of seconds before she felt a sharp tug on her ball gown.

"Psst!" Cinderella whispered.

"What?" She whispered back.

"Why didn't you use 'Cinderella's Finest' pig-fat lip injection?"

Myrielle shrugged. "Because it's heinous?"

Cinderella was momentarily frozen, having never been spoken to like that since becoming a princess. She reached over and pinched the back of Myrielle's arm.

"Ow!" Myrielle grabbed her arm and winced.

"If you want that crown you'd better watch how you address me."

The wine was hitting Myrielle harder than she'd realized, because the thought of jeopardizing her victory seemed incredibly appealing.

"I think I'll stay exactly as I am," she declared, strangely caring less and less about the outcome of the night.

Before Cinderella could pinch her again Gianni stole the crowd's attention. "The time has come for us to see a little magic first-hand."

All eyes fell upon Fairy Godmother and her wings. Would she fly across the hall? Turn one of the girls into a pumpkin? The possibilities were endless, according to the propaganda that had spewed forth from Gianni's feather quill.

Gianni noticed the expectant faces and laughed it off. "I wasn't talking about Fairy Godmother! Besides, she's worked so hard since the start of the competition, don't you think it's time we give her a night off?"

The crowd murmured in agreement and it was all Fairy Godmother needed to grab another goblet of wine from a passing servant. "Cheers!" she said happily.

Gianni applauded briefly before returning to his speech. "What I meant to say is let's delight in the magic of romance, as Prince Rainier joins each finalist for a ballroom dance!"

Josselyn and Bella squealed in excitement but Myrielle could barely muster up a smile. "Hooray," she said quietly, exhibiting zero emotion.

An orchestra on the balcony began its rendition, and beautiful notes of dignified courtship floated down to form the atmosphere of romance.

The music was a bit of a mismatch to the not-so-dignified Josselyn who was first to join the prince in a dance. As he took her hand for the first time, he realized it was larger than his own. He marveled at the strange genetic anomaly while her uncoordinated clown feet kept stumbling onto his.

"Watch yourself!" he commanded, wincing every time he felt the weight of her on his toes.

Despite his displeasure and overall reluctance for her glove-like hand to encapsulate his own, her hopeful smile never wavered. When the dance was over she angled for a kiss, but he spun away and waved to the crowd like it was part of a choreographed dance move.

Josselyn didn't notice the subtle rejection and returned to the stage full of happiness.

"Nicely done!" Gianni exclaimed, encouraging the crowd to applaud. "The chemistry was strong," he added, the sentiment as fake as his teeth. "But the question is: will the next dance be able to top it?" He gestured to Myrielle. "It's all up to you, but no pressure!"

"Go get that prince!" yelled Emilia.

Myrielle couldn't hear Emilia's cheer, as she was busy preparing her mind for the displeasure of interacting with the prince.

She reluctantly joined him in the middle of the dance floor, and as he took her hand in his flimsy grip she wondered how anyone could be less attracted to a royal or a man or a human.

The audience was blind to their mutual distaste, as the orchestra notes made it seem like the universe had been made just for them.

"It won't be as bad as you think," said the prince, speaking through the veneer of a loving smile.

Myrielle was so focused on matching his fake smile that she wasn't yet capable of responding.

"And if the 'handmaid mistress' thing bothers you so much," he added, "I was thinking you could do the same."

Her fake smile dissolved and she was suddenly alert. "Excuse me?"

"I mean it," he said. "Fredrick was loyal for a lot of years, and even though it's important to make an example out of him...you could still discreetly see him from time to time...in order to get your fix." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and the audience—thinking it was meant for her—started cheering. "And believe me," he went on, "I know you'll need your fix if I'm busy with Bella all the time." He proceeded to lick his lips, and again the audience believed he was getting all hot and bothered for Myrielle. "And if you're worried about sanitation in terms of rendezvous-ing in the dungeon...just remember he's impeccable at cleaning." He smiled. "He even has his own cot." He spun her around to the crowd's delight. "So what do you think?"

For the first time, Myrielle was truly amazed by the prince. She was amazed by the fact that he actually believed he was a decent person, for letting her engage in some dungeon hanky-panky. She almost felt sorry for the wretched excuse for a human, as these were the values he'd actually grown up with, values like how kindness was a constant exchange of benefits.

The worst part of all about his seedy offer was how glaringly it outlined Fredrick's future; a life lived out in the dungeons below, while she'd go on to enjoy every freedom and service in the castle above. It was sickening.

Their dance slowed down to a twirling denouement before she could respond to his concubine proposal. "We'll discuss the rest of the details after tonight," he said conclusively, assuming she was fully on board. "And just so you're aware I'll be sleeping in my own chamber alone and you can take the guest room. From now until eternity."

The prince could see her surprise in his refusal to share his bed, and he could almost understand why she didn't see it coming. Truthfully he couldn't deny that she looked fetching on this night, but he also couldn't forget that she was a serial farter. He shuddered as he escorted her back to the stage.

The final dance with Bella was all about the 'bodies touching bodies,' the sort of dance that was more appropriate for hip-hop lyrics about asses gettin' low. Luckily the audience had consumed enough champagne to not be bothered, but Rose was forced to cover her children's eyes to shield them from the graphic display.

As the mismatched conservative classical music played out the final notes, Bella pursed her lard-enhanced lips towards his face.

Cinderella saw her from a distance and cheered. "Yes girl!"

Instead of pulling the evasive move he'd used on Josselyn, the prince leaned in and they kissed each other square on the lips. It was the first recorded kiss in the history of the contest, and the drunken crowd went wild.

Gianni observed the crowd's reaction and found himself drooling in excitement; the final head-to-head showdown had come, and it would all play out like the fairytale sequel of his dreams...

[WRITER COMMENTARY: So who's figured out how this ends? ;-) Next update on Monday, thanks for reading!]