I started this on a whim after watching the Disney version of 'Cinderella' again. I certainly appreciate any and all reviews, although I don't need nitpicks so much as advice. Do tell me what you think, won't you?
-
If the hall had ever been quiet before, it would have been thrice eclipsed by the silence that now seized us – all of us, down to the last hopeful woman. I knew that in this moment, I had the most to lose, and losing it I most certainly was.
She walked down the spotless marble steps, her silk train flowing out behind her like fresh milk. The absolute perfection of this stranger’s white gown almost made me sick, and I hadn’t even looked up to see what her face looked like yet.
Not that I needed to. The prince’s – my prince’s – expression told me that, by some horrible twist or twirl of fate, the woman’s face was somehow even more beautiful, even more perfect than her dress could ever manage to be. His pale green eyes, those eyes I knew so well, were staring at the newcomer, and only the gracefulness of his royal upbringing kept the poor man’s mouth from hanging open.
My heart wasn’t breaking, it was furious. Furious he could leave me so easily for a girl he’d never spoken to before in his life, furious that in one attracted moment, he could forget all about the woman he’d, more or less, pledged to marry. I wanted to run forward, pull him back as he advanced toward the beautiful stranger, but I was only just too proud for that.
“May I have this dance?” he asked her, so softly that I was surprised I heard. The minstrels seemed to remember what they were there for, and started up a waltz. I watched the prince and his new dance partner, and I knew at that moment exactly where my future was going. It was being crushed beneath those delicate little glass slippers she wore, flashing out from under her paper-white skirts every time she twirled elegantly around my prince.
Gentlemen began to lead ladies into the waltz, and I knew that soon, some stiff young nobleman would come and ask for a dance. I would have to pretend not to mind for the rest of the night that the only man I could ever love was holding another, better woman in his arms, and I knew without hesitation that I would be unable to play the part. I slipped through a half-open door, left so to let in the air, it seemed, and rushed out onto the balcony. Don’t cry, I ordered myself frantically, whatever you do, don’t cry! But the tears spilt over, pouring down my face unashamed. Father would whip me, and Mother would turn the other way, thoroughly embarrassed, if they could see their daughter now. I bit my lip, hoping the pain would distract me, and knowing that it wouldn’t.
My heart wasn’t breaking... there was just a rather sizable part tearing away and throwing itself off the balcony. I leant over the rail, looking down at the forest below, and let the cold night air calm me. The worst that could happen was the prince would marry the mystery woman, and forget all about me. I’d be married off to a fat old man with plenty of money and that would be the end of my parent’s troubles. Nothing to it, Mariadelle, nothing to it, I thought bitterly. I’d get to watch the children of the prince grow up and break hearts of their own, hear the gossip of what the new queen said to her king, and haul around the spawn of my own detestable husband. Wasn’t that what I’d been raised to become, the wife of an ugly old man? Yes, and I could play the part, I knew I could.
“My head aches,” I told the world, staring at my slipper-shod feet. It wasn’t the time to speak to myself, like I often did for comfort, but at the moment, I felt little for rules of etiquette. “I’m losing my prince and all I can think about is my sticky-tears face and my aching head. What’s the point in caring about a war when you’re only a forgotten pawn, a dispensable luxury?”
The moon shone down, and the quiet began slowly to strangle me. “Not that I mind,” I continued quickly, so as to discourage it. “I don’t mind at all, actually. I’m not often selfish like this, you know. My parents love to tell all their friends how boundlessly sweet and helpful I am. But one does not often want to show one’s best side when one’s world has just decided to destroy itself.” Another sob built up in my throat, and I had no more words to speak – so I let it tumble out, like an overexcited boy at the end of his lessons.
I had to stop, to go back inside and face the despicable night without protest. It was the lady’s way, to take whatever she’d been given and make use of it. Now it was my turn to do so, and I at once felt sympathy for the others who’d had to do so before me.
“On a beautiful night like this, Miss, what is such a pretty young lady as you got to be so sorrowful about?”
I swallowed my surprise, hoping that my face didn’t look so wet and red as it felt. It took a moment to force uninterested dignity onto my face, but I finally managed to turn and face the unexpected, and unwanted visitor.
“Your Majesty!” I breathed, curtsying quickly as I realized who the man before me was. “I – I…”
“If it’s any help to your loss of articulation, you could answer my question,” he said, smiling kindly. The expression on his face made me suppress a shudder, for it reminded me of the prince, inside and waltzing with his newfound lover.
“Oh, I… was merely out to take some air. I’m doubly sorry if I offended by disappearing, Your Majesty.” I looked again at my feet, blushing and knowing that if he were angry, I wasn’t cooling his temper.
“Doubly? Why doubly?”
“To you and… and – to your son.” At last, the mention of the prince broke me, and I half-collapsed onto the rail of the balcony, sobbing as my heart continued its merciless tearing.
To my surprise, the king didn’t growl in outrage at my horrible lapse in control, nor did he exit quickly. He stood, silent, waiting for me to regain composure, and when I finally did, he spoke. “So it was His Highness that upset you. How, my dear?” His voice was still kind, but grave, and I knew I’d have to say something before he marched back inside and tried to wring the secret out of his son.
“N-no, it wasn’t h-his f-fault, Your Majesty,” I whispered tremulously, and the serious set of his round face made me sure I’d have to speak much, and fast. “It is merely the ache of my heart that… upsets me, as you so graciously put it. The prince did nothing but choose a bride, and here I am, crying over naught! Please, go back in and enjoy the ball, and leave me to my tears.” Ordering the king, even if it were more of a request, was the most idiotic thing I’d ever done, but I was too grief-stricken to be subtle about it.
A warm hand clasped my thin shoulder, and I found myself staring into his vivid green eyes. If only it had been a swellheaded, foppish nobleman who’d found me out here! At least he wouldn’t have so closely resembled my prince… now, it seemed, her prince.
“You are the girl, then, that he’s been raving on about for so long? The one with ‘cocoa’ hair and ‘porcelain’ skin, and the ocean in her eyes?” he murmured, searching my face for an answer I wouldn’t willingly give. “Yes, I can see it, though you’d not wish me to. How many times I found him, staring wistfully out the window and towards your father’s manor! He was quite in love with you, Miss Tadstreet.”
If it had been anyone but the king himself, I would have pointed out the ‘was,’ the past tense he used to describe the prince’s love. “But now he has found another, Your Majesty, and I certainly hope they are happy together.” I wrenched away from his comforting hand and fled the balcony, back into the gaudy lights and clothes of my fellow women.
-
It mayn't be the best start, but I promise it'll get better! Please tell me eksaktikully what you think! Er, 'exactly,' that is.
I shall try, but I am so bad at ignoring little things that bother me. Not that yours has very many, dear. 
From the very beginning, we immediately know that the story takes place not in modern times, but in a era of flowing language. This is good! Many writers are tempted to keep the style of dialogue strictly in the quotation marks themselves, but having Mariadelle as the author makes it essential to bring her ton of voice even into the narration. Which you did beautifully. However, be careful about throwing in some more modern terms, such as 'almost made me sick' and using contractions. I suppose contractions aren't necessarily modern, but spelling them out as two words seems to add to the formality of the piece.
I love to give my two-cents worth.
