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ENDRILLON, Cendrillon!”
“Yes, Mademoiselle Noémie! Here I am.”
“Hurry and mend this rip in my gown, you lazy thing. I want to wear it today!” And she tossed an armful of cloth at her stepsister, who took out needle and thread and sat on a low stool by the window where there was good light.
Noémie for her part went to the chamber door, looked back and forth, then closed it. “There,” she said, dropping comfortably into a chair beside her stepsister. “Now we are safe from Madame my mother’s spies for a little while, and we can talk in peace. I have news for you!”
“Not so loud,” Cendrillon said softly. “If Madame ever learned we are sisters in heart, though not by blood –“
“You know I care nothing for her scolding, my dear.”
“But she might separate us, Noémie, and I could not bear that.”
Noémie obediently lowered her voice. “Here is the news,” she said with relish. “I learned yesterday from Madame de Chevreuse that the prince, who is to come of age soon and rule in his own right, is giving a grand ball to celebrate the event. All the eligible young ladies in the kingdom are invited, and his Highness will take the opportunity to select one of them as his bride.”
Cendrillon dropped her mending and clasped her hands together. “Oh, I wish I could go.”
“I wish I could be spared from going,” her sister returned, “but Maman is certain to insist.”
“I saw the prince once,” Cendrillon said wistfully. “I was at the market on an errand when he rode slowly across the Great Square with his guards. His head was bowed, but once he looked up, and his eyes were sad and kind.”
“I hope he is not too kind,” Noémie said carelessly, “or he will not rule for long.”
“Sister!”
“Sister, you have not been to Court, as I have. It is full of people who are not kind at all.” She sat lost in thought for a moment, as her sister’s skilled fingers continued to ply the needle. Suddenly, Noémie sat up and clapped her hands. “I have it! Cendrillon, why should you not go to the ball?”
“Madame would never let me.”
“You need not ask her. Once we have left for the ball, what is to prevent your slipping out, with no one the wiser?”
“But I have nothing grand enough to wear,” Cendrillon stammered.
Noémie’s eyes sparkled. “I know what to do. I will tell Maman that I need you to sew lace on my dress for the ball and so she must not give you other chores to do. But in reality I will bring you a different gown and we will alter it to fit you. If we both work together, it will take almost no time.”
“But your shoes -- they will not fit me.”
Noémie frowned. “It is true – you have such small feet. Never mind, my dear, but wear your own shoes. They are good and sturdy enough, and you will be more comfortable during the dancing. And the hem of your gown will hide all but your toes.”
Cendrillon’s eyes lit up. “Then I can go, truly? I can hardly believe it!”
“Cendrillon!” called a shrill voice from another room.
Cendrillon rose to her feet. “That is Madame. I must go.” She cut a final thread and put the neatly mended dress in her sister’s hands.
“Still,” Noémie said meditatively as Cendrillon reached the door, “it is very strange.”
“What is, Noémie?”
“This way of choosing a bride for his Highness. What can they possibly learn from a ball?” Noémie leaned forward. “The prince will learn which girls are charming and beautiful and who can dance well, and perhaps who is skilled at making polite conversation. Are these the qualities of a queen?”
Cendrillon smiled, “We should hope that the prince chooses you,” she teased gently, “and you will soon set the kingdom in good order.”
Noémie laughed. “I do not want to marry the prince,” she said. “So let us hope he does not.”
