Chapter 7--Royal Bachelor Auditions

Cinderella worked so hard while her evil stepsisters bullied her.

Cinderella's wicked stepmother never let her out of the house.

Cinderella languished in poverty while they fed off her father's fortune.

But despite it all...Cinderella found a way to win Prince Charming's heart.

Such was the grandiose tale all the kingdoms had been fed, but if Fairy Godmother's powers were a made-up detail for the purpose of selling books, how much of the rest of it was made up too?

For the bright-eyed girls of the Enraptured Kingdom, none of it seemed to matter, because yesterday they'd been drinking flavored water posing as stew, and today they had a chance to become the prince's bride.

After the announcement the citizens returned to the center of the square, and a scene of juvenile chaos was soon underway.

Girls were spinning around like psychos high on bath salts, all for the chance to change their lives with a royal marriage. Trying to contain them was no small task, so the knights were forced to corral them like unruly cattle. For most of these knights, their daydreams had comprised of: conquering foreign lands, leading men into battle and earning the respect of the kingdom. These noble dreams had certainly not included separating crazy-eyed peasant girls from the rogue under-agers who were trying to sneak in.

A knight spotted a ten-year-old girl and dragged her out of the queue.

"But the prince and I can go on pony rides in the valley!" she whined. He nodded dismissively and led her away.

As Rose watched the scene unfold she pulled Myrielle aside. "Should we go?"

Myrielle stared at her mother like she was speaking another language. "Go? Go where? We have to stay here and you need to help me."

Rose was at a loss. "Help you with what?"

Myrielle gestured to her food-packed skirt. "Have you forgotten what's underneath here?" she whispered. "I can't very well become the next Cinderella with ten pounds of food up my dress!"

Rose slowly realized. "So you're entering the competition..." She made no effort to hide her look of concern.

Myrielle avoided her mother's gaze. "Entering the contest is the best thing for the family," she declared. "Just think of how our lives would change if I became a royal...you and father would never have to worry again!" Her eyes glistened as the fantasy expanded. "And maybe once I'm officially a princess...I can get them to re-open the academy..."

Rose was struggling to believe in her daughter's vision. "I admit it's a nice idea, but the competition will be very stiff."

Myrielle nodded as she sized up the other girls. She knew she wasn't the prettiest of the bunch, at least not in terms of the idealized "sultry milkmaid" look. But was that the only thing that mattered? She also knew she wasn't the youngest, with her twentieth birthday around the corner and death by a random fever all but certain in the next twenty years. But wasn't age just a number anyway? It clearly wasn't, and beauty was indeed the most important thing, which was exactly what the tiny voice inside her kept repeating. The voice's tiny vocal chords also decided to let her know that a 'marriage via contest' was a sham. It made her think of all those nights falling asleep against the backdrop of loneliness; what were the odds of a marriage contest filling that void?

Myrielle had no answers to the logical inner voice, but luckily it was weak enough to muzzle in the quest for victory.

As Myrielle readied to enter this uncharted competition, Rose could only helplessly watch. "I'm afraid you'll encounter unkindness along the way."

Myrielle shrugged. "That's fine, it goes with the territory." She had no idea what this territory would entail, but she was certain that faking confidence was a positive first step.

Myrielle studied the trepidation in her mother's eyes. "I'm all grown up, mother; let me do this."

Rose squeezed her in a hug. "But I haven't had the time to process the thought of you leaving!"

Myrielle wriggled out of the hug. "The other day you were telling me to go off and find a husband!"

(Mothers...)

"That's true..." Rose said with tears in her eyes. "But you're still my baby!"

A stone-faced knight walked in on their special moment. "Are you entering or not then?" he said.

Myrielle looked down at her massive skirt that she hadn't had the chance to unload. "Yes...I uhh..." She backed away. "I Just need a couple of preparatory minutes," she said. "You know...lady problems." Myrielle had once read that during a certain time in Ancient Greece, women would be housebound during their periods. It might've been the modern fifteen hundreds now, she thought, but maybe the excuse would still work?

The knight stared at her blankly as she tried to seem distressed. "It's probably best if I lie down for a minute..."

The knight shook his head. "The prince doesn't wait."

She glared. "Do you even know what a lady problem is?"

"I know what a knight problem is," he said robotically. "You; the knight problem is you."

A knight full of sass was the last thing Myrielle needed, and as the seconds ticked along she was running out of options between the contest and the contraband in her skirt.

"Let's just go home," Rose urged, trying to pull her away.

Myrielle remained exactly where she was, because the quest to change her family's life was worth whatever risk she'd encounter. Myrielle kissed her mother on both cheeks. "The double-kiss is how the royals do it," she said, mustering up five hundred ounces of 'fake it 'til you make it.' She gave Rose one last hug and stepped into the queue. "See you when I'm wearing the crown!"

She waved and twirled for an added positive flourish, too full of adrenaline to realize what she was doing...

***

For some reason, Myrielle had gotten the idea that a contest to marry the prince would mean non-stop glamour from the start. In reality, fifty eligible girls trudged up a rocky hill in the blazing sun. The trek was hardest on Myrielle, who was weighed down by ten pounds of stolen food, along with the disgusting feeling of turkey meat juices dribbling down her leg. She winced and carried on.

The more she thought about the food, the more disappointed she felt about her failure to keep her family's bellies full. She comforted herself by remembering she now had a different goal, a much bigger quest that outweighed the wasted meals currently stored under her skirt. The only question was...where would she go to get rid of all the evidence? She continually kept her eyes peeled for secluded rivers or streams along the way, but so far the landscape had been dry and conspicuous.

"There it is!" a knight called out. "Make your way up to the academy!"

Myrielle gasped, as she realized they were headed to the place of a thousand memories...

***

The grand foyer of the now-abandoned academy echoed with the footsteps of fifty eligible girls. Myrielle tried her best to blend into the crowd, but her shifty eyes and massive skirt weren't exactly helping the cause.

Before the academy had closed its doors, it had been the source of Myrielle's passion, where she'd only just started teaching after training under the head professor. She'd barely finished a full semester before the kingdom had shut them down. The memory was visceral and it filled her with rage, but the other emotion she felt just as strongly was fear, knowing she only had minutes to destroy the evidence of her thievery.

Myrielle focused her eyes down the hall, fixated on a set of double doors. She looked both ways, took a deep breath, and disappeared behind a curtain before any of the knights could notice. Her competitors had seen what she'd done, but no one said a word and why would they? If she was gone it was one less competitor.

When the coast was clear, she scurried down the hall and disappeared inside the room.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and let out a breath. She had now taken refuge in the abandoned library, and as she scanned the area she noticed a layer of dust blanketing every row of books. The sight of those dusty books left her feeling a little wistful, but she was quick enough to remember there wasn't any time for emotion.

She awkwardly raced towards the back of the library, stopping at a large set of windows. She turned back and gazed at the bookcases lovingly. "Forgive me for what you are about to witness." She nodded firmly and the madness began, as she lifted her skirt with her right hand, and began untying the sacks of food with the left.

With her skirt hiked up to her waist and the sacks neatly falling to the floor, the process was going well until she heard a nearby sound.

She froze.

"Excuse me," a man's voice said.

She slowly turned, her skirt still inappropriately hiked at the waist.

The person she saw in front of her was the servant she'd seen on stage, the one that had stared at her strangely when he'd spotted her through the crowd. Had he known all this time? Had he been following her? And what was the official punishment for stealing food from a food-obsessed king?

She swallowed hard and prayed for her mommy...

[WRITER COMMENTARY: It's completely intentional that we're approaching something that resembles ABC's "The Bachelor: Season 1 from the 16th Century," because as much as this story is set in a classical time, human nature is universal, and I like to make comparisons to things that could have always existed, even without the technology (and isn't that show addictive? :-p). This will also mean girly in-fighting and contestants getting voted off, so I hope you enjoy what's to come! ]