Chapter 5: Cindy's Fella, Part 2

"If I send Zetta, she will complain bitterly," her step-mother said, "then come back with all the wrong things to punish me. Anatolia would just spend the money on sweets. Get on with you." She put the few coins into Cindy's hand. "You will take far too long with all your talking to people, but I know you will buy what I tell you.

So instead of working in the garden, Cindy put on her nice dress and walked into town. She didn't mind much. She hadn't seen her friends in a while.

"Morning, John," she said to the dairyman, "Mother wants a cheese. You can deliver it to the house later."

"Certainly, Cindy," John said, "I'll be going by that way later."

She wandered through town picking up the few things on the list from the merchants. She greeted each one by name and they treated her well though she was only spending a few pennies. In the centre of town there was a crowd gathered by a poster. Those who could read were standing near the poster and announcing its contents to everyone else.

"Hey Cindy," Bill called, "You going to the ball?"

"Do I look like I'm going to a ball?" Cindy said, "I doubt the Prince even knows I exists."

"Says here that all eligible maids are to attend the ball."

"Well then," Cindy looked at herself, "I don't look much like a maid."

The crowd laughed and Cindy waved and headed off home.

The exchange unsettled her. She enjoyed the farming, but was it what she wanted for the rest of her life? She imagined herself married to one of Bill's older brothers. They had a whole herd of milk cows and chickens too. She would be doing chores from dawn to dusk. She didn't mind the work, but there would be nothing else. Bill's mother's eulogy last year was summed up in five words. "She was a hard worker." Cindy found herself imagining what she would wear to the ball.

***

The prince stalked through the halls of the palace hoping that some servant would be foolish enough to get in his way; maybe that pert new servant girl from his mother's wing of the palace. Imagining her heart-shaped face cowed with fear made him smile. He shook his head angrily. No smiles. The prince was a person to be feared today. No one feared someone prancing about with a silly grin on their face.

Reluctantly he pushed the thought of the girl out of his head and reflected on the recent conversation with his father, the King.

"So Father," the prince had said, "Now that I'm twenty-one, are you going to make me your heir?"

"Humph," The King glowered at him and tapped his fingers on the arms of his chair. "You're too wild right now. You need to settle down and start producing heirs."

"You make me sound like some bull at one of those tiresome fairs."

The King looked the prince over and grunted, his fingers struck the wood like hammers.

"Those bulls have value," he said finally, "all you do is cause trouble. I wanted to find you a nice princess, but you've scared them all away with your antics. So, you will have to find someone from around here."

"The only women around her are farmers and servants!"

"You don't seem to find servants unattractive," the King said, "In fact your constant attraction to them is costing the kingdom a fortune. At least a farmer would be able to explain the finer points of a prize bull."

The prince swelled up to unleash his rage, but his father raised his hand.

"If you won't choose a wife, then I will choose one for you. Be sure that I will have the future needs of the kingdom in mind." The prince imagined the bride his father would select for him, some sturdy woman with a strong constitution and no grace. He shuddered.

"I am throwing a ball," The King put his hand down and ran it across the arm of his chair. "for all the maids in the kingdom. You will choose one to be your wife. When your heir is apparent, I will consider making you my formal heir."

The prince left the room very carefully not slamming the door. The King was not someone to be trifled with. As soon as he rounded the corner out of King's quarters he let his boots slam into the stone floor and twisted his face into a scowl. He was no prize bull to be set out to stud! Though to be honest, he had...collected quite a herd. He leaned against the wall and went through their faces in his mind.

***

Cindy made it back home and took the small bag of purchases into the house. She discovered her step-mother running her hands over two bolts of fine cloth.

"What did you sell this time?" Cindy asked. "I know we didn't have the money for that."

"Don't be impertinent," her step-mother's eyes took on the glare which preceded a beating., "Someone must look out for the welfare of this family."

Cindy went looking through the house trying to think of what was missing that would have paid for that cloth.

"Well, at least she won't always smell of the barn." She heard Zetta say.

"But I'll miss the fresh cream," Anatolia said.

"Cleopatra!" Cindy ran out to the barn. Sure enough, the old cow's stall was empty. She stormed back into the house and interrupted her step-mother measuring the cloth against her step-sisters.

"How could you?" Cindy said, "Cleopatra's milk was the only thing keeping us from starving."

"With a daughter married to the prince, I won't have to worry about starving."

"Every girl in the kingdom will be at that ball!"

"Which is why I had to buy the fabric; I need to give my daughters an edge."

"You could at least have bought colours that would suit them," Cindy said and ran up to her room.