Chapter 2

Chapter Two

     People bustle back and forth, their shouts mix with the clomp, clomp of horses’ hooves, the braying of animals, and clink of merchandise. On one side of the market are stalls filled to over flowing with all sorts of dry goods. Beside the textile products are booths of vegetables, across from which are the fenced in areas with various livestock.

     I make my way straight to the textiles and find the needles. To my delight, they are less than the amount of money I have with me. That means I can get something extra. Fresh fruit or vegetables will make a delicious dinner and maybe put Lady Tremaine in a good mood so I can ask her for a new wheel barrow for mucking out the stalls. The old one is literally decaying and every day I battle with it to keep the wheel from falling off.

      Before I move to the fresh produce though, I stop briefly by the animals and pet a few of the horses. Most of them are old plow horses, rejects that no one wants and so will probably be sold for meat. I sigh, poor horses. They worked hard all their lives and this their reward.

    Finally I move on to the fruits and vegetables, it is no use to dwell on the things I cannot change. There is a stand with some apples that catches my eye and I approach it so that I may inspect them. They are not badly bruised at all and I have just enough money to pay for a dozen of them. I give the burly, red haired man selling them the last of my coins and place the apples carefully in the basket on my arm, beside Anastasia’s needles. The fruit will make a delicious apple pie.

      After my purchase I wonder around for a short while before deciding that I had better start homewards. The work will defiantly not do itself.

     As I make my way through the busy market, I catch sight of the king’s captain of the guard. He sits astride a beautiful black stallion, who is bedecked with shiny and expensive tack. My eyes remain on the proud steed while I turn the corner into the street that leads home. I do not see the oncoming figure till it is too late. We crash into each other, sending apples flying. Thankfully though, a pair strong arms prevent me from also joining the apples on the street.

     The moment my balance and my senses return to me, I exclaim breathlessly, “The apples!” Scrambling I rush to pick up the fruit, but what are the chances that they will still be good?

     “Here,” the strangers says and I look up at him. Three of my apples are held out towards me in his hands and his warm brown eyes seem to beg for my forgiveness. His hair is a dark shade of brown and although it is combed away from his face, it curls slightly at the ends. An aristocratic nose, full lips, and strong chin make up the remainder of his handsome features.    

     I must have been gawking because he repeats himself, “Here are you apples.”

     Shaking the cobwebs out of my head, I hurriedly take the apples from his hands, “Thank you, kind sir.”

     “Kind sir? No, do not call me that I all but ran you over.”

      Hesitantly I reply, “But just as much as I ran you over.”

     He laughs and it reaches all the way to his eyes. Then he says earnestly, “Nonetheless, you have my sincerest apology and I hope very much your apples are not too damaged.”

     It takes me a moment to tear my eyes away from him and glance into the basket, “It is nothing a bit of water cannot wash off,” on my last word I let a gasp. “The needles! They are gone,” I spin in a circle, desperately searching for the lost items. “No. No. No. they cannot be gone. She will kill me.” What will I do? I have no more money to pay for new ones, but if I do not come home with needles Lady Tremaine will be furious.

     The strangers lays a hand on my arm to stop my worried turning about, and says quickly, “Please do not be distressed. The needles can be replaced.”

     “But you see I do not…”

     “I will pay from them.”

     “No, that is not necessary.”

     “Please, I insist. Come,” he motions towards the market with his hand.

     I give in and follow him into the bustling crowd. What else can I do? There is really no other choice except face the wrath of Lady Tremaine.

     As I walk beside him I notice he wears common clothes, but they lack the normal wear and tear of an ever day peasants clothes.

     “Are you an apprentice?” I ask, hurrying to keep up with his long strides.

     He glances sideways at me, “Yes, of a sort. I am learning my father’s trade. And you?”

     “My father was merchant.” What else can I say? I could tell him that I am a common servant, but in a way I am still a merchant’s daughter.

     “Your father is dead then?” he asks gently.

     I nod my head and manage a slight, but sad smile.

     “I am sorry,” his words sound genuine. “And your mother?”

     “She died before my father, when I was ten,” I keep my voice steady, but it hurts to talk about her.      

     “My mother is dead too,” he says the words as a fact not as a means to gain my sympathy.

     “Do you miss her?”

     “Yes. Very much, at times. She truly understood me and my father. And she was the one that seemed to bring about order in our home. My father has a difficult time looking past his grief and now everything feels chaos.”

     “Did you parents love each other very much then?”

     “Yes, they did,” he glances at me, but his expression is distant, as if he is remembering times gone by.

     I smile faintly as memories flood my own mind, “My parents did too. When my mother died my father was heartbroken, but after four years, for my sake, he married again.”

     “So you are not entirely alone, then?” His voice sounds almost relieved.  

      The corner of my lips turn up in a sad smile and I shake my head, “My stepmother dislikes me, she does not love me. But I think that perhaps, she cares as much as she is able.”

      “How can you say that with such compassion?” He stops so he can look me in the eye.

      I also halt for a moment, “Because I believe it to be true.” I keep walking and he follows closely at my side, “And you know, I’m not entirely alone. I have many friends.”

     The way I said it must have given me away, because he looks at me skeptically.

     I decide to just tell him the truth, it is the best way to go when one meets new people, “I have a dog named Bruno, he’s blood hound. He can find anything that has scent. And I have beautiful great, grey horse. He’s gentle as a kitten. His name is Major.” I was so engrossed with describing my friends that I did not notice the stranger staring at me, transfixed, till I stop for a breath. My cheeks turn warm from embarrassment and I turn my gaze to the worn ground beneath our feet, “Forgive me. I should not have run on like that.”

     He smiles, making his brown eyes sparkle, “No, do not apologize. Your friends sound wonderful.”  

      There is no room for either of us to say another word, because we reach the stall where I had bought the needles. I am thankful for this though. When he smiled so charmingly, for some reason, the breath in my lunges suddenly decided to evacuate and my insides melted so badly I doubted my legs in their ability to hold me upright.

     The lady selling the needles eyes us curiously when my rescuer asks for another set of needles, but the vendor wraps the needles without a word. The stranger, who is not so much a stranger now, pays for the needles from a leather purse on his belt and kindly thanks the woman.

      Then turning and with graceful bow, he holds the package out to me, “Here you are my lady.”

      With a laugh I take the needles from his hand, “Why, aren’t you charming?”

     “Actually my name is Freddy,” then he adds rather bashfully, “I mean, Fred. My father calls me Freddy.”

     Again he makes me laugh, “I think I like Charming. Or maybe the Prince of Charms?”

     He smiles too, “How about Prince Charming?”

     “Yes, I like that very much.”

      Freddy looks around seeming a little lost, like he wants to say more, but can’t find the right words.

     Suddenly the clock tower in the nearby town square chimes four o’clock and with start, I realize that I should be home already, preparing the evening meal.

      “I have to go,” I say quickly and spin on my heel. It will not do if supper is late, I will never get a new wheel barrow that way.

     “Wait!” Freddy’s voice shouts urgently from behind me. I stop, he has been so kind. It would be rude to leave like this.

     As he hurries forward towards me, he calls, “I don’t know even know your name. How will find you?”

      Before I have time to think my heart says, “Arella. My name is Arella.”

      He hesitates, as if he is playing my name over in his mind. I begin to turn again. As charming as he is if I value my home, at all, I have to leave now.

     Freddy notices my movement and jumps in front of me, “Do you like riding?”

     His question takes me by surprise, so it take me a moment to sputter out an answer, “Yes. Yes, I do. Very much.”

     A relived smile appears on his face, “Would you…? I mean…”

     I smile at his flustered state, “Yes?”

     He grins bashfully at his stuttering, takes a deep breath and says with every bit of charm, “Would you do me the honor of going riding with me in the Great Forest?”

     Again he startles me and it is my turn to stumble over my words, “I… Yes. Yes, I would love to.” What am I getting myself into? Lady Tremaine would never approve. But then again, when has she ever approved of anything I do?

     “How about tomorrow?” Prince Charming suggests.

     “Tomorrow?” Tomorrow is wash day! But, I can’t say no. What if another day doesn’t work for him? “Tomorrow sounds wonderful.”

     Again he gives a relived smile, “Till tomorrow then.” He begins to back away slowly, “Goodbye, Arella.”

     I lift my hand in a wave, “Goodbye, Prince Charming.”

     Finally Freddy turns and I remember the meal that needs to be prepared. Spinning I clutch my basket tightly for fear of bumping into another prince-although the first occasion was quite a pleasant one-and hurry home.

 

Reviews

[Kimberly Miller]

Oh I love this story! Please add more! This is amazing! I love your take on Cinderella!!

[Emma]

Oh thank you. Your comment is very encouraging. And I actually stopped writing Cinderella because I didn't feel inspired, but you just gave me reason to soldier on. :)
Also I checked out your profile and believe it or not, I am home schooled (Grade 12), I love my cats, and I am a christian too!
Thanks again for commenting!

[Kimberly Miller]

Your welcome! I really do love your story! Its so refreshing to read a fairytale with a twist! Awesome! Oh wow, that cool! I'm a senior too this year! Absolutely!!