The Perfect Plan for a Fairy-Tale Ending

Chapter 6

When I stepped through the second set of iron doors, I spotted a ball of blankets on top of the bed. Sighing, I called out in a quiet voice, “Larissa?” I couldn’t recall the last time Marcia had called her sister by name.

Slowly, I approached the bed. I placed the lamp and bundle I’d brought on the small table nearby. The little huddle of blankets was trembling.

“Larissa, I’m empty-handed,” I said gently. “See?” I spread my arms open to show her that I wasn’t holding a whip.

The blankets barely shifted, so I took a few steps back. “Then how about I stand here? I promise I won’t take a step closer. Now, won’t you show me your face?”

I stood still for a few minutes until I spotted slight movement. I managed to catch a glimpse of silver hair within the rustling blankets. I waited patiently, until finally, the blankets slid down to her shoulders and a small head popped out.

The little girl’s face was pallid and devoid of color, and her green eyes were watery as she gazed timidly at me. As siblings, our eyes were naturally the exact same shade. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of sympathy.

“Hi…” I said, greeting her rather awkwardly.

Her green eyes blinked a few times. I realized that this was the very first time I was speaking to her—and when I searched through Marcia’s memories, I realized it was her first time too. That meant that neither of us had heard her speak before. The only times I heard her voice were when she cried for help in her head.

“Um… Do you understand what I’m saying?” I asked. “Can you speak?”

She was silent.

I cleared my throat. “It’s not that I think you don’t know how to talk. It’s just that… I’ve never heard your voice before.”

Again, there was no response.

“But, well, I guess if you’re down here all alone, maybe… you don’t like talking anymore. Um, sorry for asking…” I trailed off and bowed my head apologetically.

Larissa stared at me for a moment, then finally gave a tiny nod.

Phew. I was relieved. At the very least, she understood what I was saying. Well, if she was marrying the prince in three years and living happily ever after, it meant the prince would be kind to her and they would surely be able to communicate.

I lifted my hand to point at the table next to her bed. Larissa flinched and flung the blankets back over her head. I’d made a mistake. I felt a twinge of guilt at how just a small move on my end prompted such a panicked reaction.

I cautiously lowered my hand again. “Sorry. I scared you, didn’t I? I only meant to show you that I brought you some gingerbread cookies. They’re inside that bundle on the table. I… I thought you might like some.”

I’d snuck a few cookies away from the dinner table, knowing that the key to winning someone’s heart was through their stomach. In the beginning, I hadn’t even considered bringing anything down here with me. But the sight of the freshly-baked cookies, shaped like people with cute little drawn-on faces, made me think it would be nice to share them with Larissa.

Maybe I’m treating her too much like a child… but she’s still really young. Larissa had stuck her head partly out of the blanket again and was staring at the wrapped bundle on the table. Her large, round eyes swiveled back to me and blinked several times.

She looks so much like any other little girl… She’s really cute. She still didn’t say a word, but curiosity shone in her eyes. This was an excellent sign, because it meant that she was receptive to my words.

“So… I have something I’d like to propose,” I said. I smiled and went straight to my point.

***

It was early morning before sunrise. I took a deep breath. It was time to channel my inner madwoman. From now on, I’m going to be insane. Totally unhinged. Let’s go…

“Aaaaghhhh!” I shrieked as loudly as I could and yanked the bell cord over and over. The small bell in the maid’s room would be ringing incessantly.

“What could she possibly want at dawn?!”

“We can’t even sleep around here!”

I could hear the thoughts of the grumbling maids, and I yanked on the cord even harder.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door of my dressing room and a lone maid appeared. Though she’d been forced out of bed at this ungodly hour, she showed no signs of agitation.

“Did you call, Lady Marcia?” she asked politely. She clasped her hands in front of her and kept her eyes cast at the ground.

I jabbed my finger at the floor. “Look at the state of my dresses! I’m going to a party tonight, and I have nothing to wear!”

The maid lifted her head and looked around the room. My dresses were scattered in heaps all over the floor. I’d purposely overturned my wardrobe and splayed my items all around as if I’d thrown a fit while trying things on.

“You wish to get dressed this early in the morning, my lady? Not to mention, I’m sure there was a gown you were fitted for only a few days ago.” The maid expertly hid her true feelings while she spoke, but I could hear everything she was thinking. “What a spoiled brat. Which poor soul has to clean up this mess?”

I stifled the snort that nearly escaped my nose. Everyone was entitled to their own thoughts and feelings, and typically they never had to worry that someone would find out. I’m not just anyone, though, of course.

I had been slightly worried that I’d arouse the maid’s suspicion, but seeing that she was busy insulting me in her head, she didn’t seem to think anything was out of the ordinary. Well, Marcia had always behaved like this—create a mess and get angry, only to blame someone else.

It was time to take it up a notch. “All my dresses look terrible!” I shouted, scowling, and snatched one of the gowns from the top of a pile. There was a sudden ripping noise as a length of lace was torn from the dress. Of course, I’d secretly cut into it in advance.

The maid’s face turned panic-stricken, and I took the opportunity to scream even louder. “Kyaaaaa!” I shrieked. “It’s ripped! What are you going to do about this?!”

“M-my lady…!” “You’re the one who ripped it!”

“What’s wrong with you? Do I need to put you out on the street to bring you back to your senses?” I snarled. “You know how much this lace costs? A year’s worth of salary!”

“It was all your fault! I didn’t even move a single inch!” she shouted in her head.

I stomped toward the maid, who visibly flinched. She must have thought I was going to slap her. Marcia would have done just that, and far worse.

“My lady, I beg you, please don’t have me leave,” she pleaded. “I’ll have it fixed no matter what, so please…” “This psycho b*tch!”

I had to hand it to her. She was an impressive actress. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the stark contrast between the words coming from her mouth and the ones in her head. I wasn’t laughing because it was funny, but rather because it was awe-inspiring that she could be so two-faced. I get it, Marcia. I would have gone crazy too if this was my everyday reality.

The maid turned pale when she heard me laugh. Come to think of it, I probably appeared even more like a madwoman, randomly laughing to myself.

I let out another cackle for good measure and then shoved the dress at her. “You’ll fix it?” I barked. “And how will you do that? Do you even know how to sew?” To add insult to injury, I could have jabbed her in the shoulder or patted her a few times on the cheeks, just as Bilain had done to me. That would be behaving like a true villainess. But I recalled how insulted I had felt.

Well, this is probably good enough. No need to go that far. Even now, she seemed ready to prostrate herself at my feet. She’d already called me crazy in her mind, so I’d achieved my goal.

“Call Nora right away.” I deliberately dropped the name of my regular dressmaker, then shook my head. “Scratch that. Pack all of these dresses up. At once.” I thrust the torn dress into her arms, for good measure.

The maid looked appropriately confused. “Pardon…?”

“‘Pardon?’” I said, mimicking her. “Have you no ears? Pack them up this instant!” I raised my voice in irritation, and the still-confused maid dashed into the dressing room to do as commanded. She began to search for my travel bags.

“I’m going to the boutique right now to have them all fixed. Pack these too. And this, and that,” I said, ordering her around.

“What a nutjob! Why on earth would the boutique be open at dawn?”

“Not that one!” I hollered. “Are you blind? That dress is completely out of style!”

“I apologize, my lady.” “Ugh, she’s always changing her mind. How did someone like her end up as a lady?”

How, you ask? My parents are aristocrats, of course. My lips twitched. I wanted so badly to bite back at what she was really thinking. Not reacting to other people’s true thoughts was a lot harder than it looked.

I strode over to the far end of the room and plopped down on the couch, watching the maid struggle to pack all of my bags. While she was facing the other direction, I discreetly nudged a bag that I’d packed full of my jewelry and gems the day before, sliding it into the mix.

“All of your dresses are packed, my lady.”

In total, there were six bags of varying sizes. The smallest was at least twice the size of a standard hat box, and the largest could fit at least one small child inside.

I gestured to the luggage with a snide jerk of my chin. “Take them down to the first floor and call the other maids to my room. I must get changed. Have a carriage waiting for me in thirty minutes. I don’t need any breakfast.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“One more thing…” I called her back before she could finally slip away. “You take all of those bags down by yourself.”

The blood drained from her face. “B-but this is the fifth floor,” she stammered.

“So?” I lifted my chin and glared down at her with a haughty expression. “There are six bags, and you have two hands. That’s only three trips, right?”

“How can I possibly carry two of those heavy bags at a time?! Why did you have to pack so many things?” The maid started to raucously insult me again, shouting all sorts of obscenities in her mind. With such verbal creativity, perhaps she was strong enough to run a pub as an old lady.

I casually gave her one last order. “After you finish taking them down, clean my room. Naturally, it’s a one-person job.”

The maid glanced around the dressing room, puckering her face as if she’d bitten into a lemon. Though many of the dresses had been packed away, the floor was still strewn with the remaining gowns, as well as gloves, hats, and various other bits and pieces. It was enough to break her control of her expression.

Yep, I’ve become quite the Lady Marcia. I couldn’t help but grin.