A Mouse vs. A Good Deed

NIGHTTIME HAD FALLEN once again, and just like last night, the women gathered together in the lounging area and got ready to leave for the palace party. It seems that the ones that the Madame had selected to go to the palace were the ones she favored the most, as they were popular amongst the patrons that would come in.

I mostly was up and about, bringing them drinks and accessories that they needed so that they could be ready as soon as possible in the vanity room.

Seralind was in her own mirror, tying up the bodice of one lady while another woman was fiddling with Seralind’s hair. They had similar styles; piled on top of their heads with wavy strands spilling out from the loose areas, adorned with braids and flowers.

They all worked together to make sure their custom costumes were assembled correctly, trapping me in a canopy of arms, tulle, and hair.

“Are you going to go out and see the games, Esmeline?” One of the oldest dancers, Lorelei, asks me as she rouges her lips.

“Oh! Maybe. I’m not sure yet.” I reply sheepishly. I didn’t know if I had the stomach to enjoy myself when I was still reeling from the potential consequences of Seralind going back to the palace tonight.

“I think you should. Go and have some fun for the rest of us,” she coaxes me.

“Oh, how I wish I was a child again! Then I wouldn’t have to spend my time working on a night like this!” One muses.

“Maybe if Madame Whispet didn’t spend so much on dresses feathered and bowed up like a peacock, we wouldn’t need to be worked to the bone like this.” Another sighs.

“Well, all we can do is do as we’re told,” Lorelei says, slipping on her shoes. “Miss Esmeline, come help me with my ribbons.”

I stand up quickly to aid her, threading them carefully through the back of her corset to make sure it fits her tightly.

“That color looks wonderful on you, Seralind!” Beatrina—a dancer with fiery ginger hair and one of the Plum Rosé’s highest earners—gushes. Seralind only adjusts her bodice bashfully.

“Madame Whispet said my costume should attract more patrons to make up for my personality.” She admits, sounding a little hurt.

“Oh, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about! Madame Whispet thinks women are only valuable if they can twirl their hair or fill up the guest rooms.” She says to Seralind.

“I know she’s only allowing me to go because she hopes a noble will think I’m pretty enough and be drunk enough to spend money on me.” Seralind sighs.

“You just need to get a little comfortable is all. Like I always say, a smile and a laugh is the foundation of charm!” The red-haired dancer says proudly.

“And once they see how well you dance, they’ll be so excited to give you more money!” I pipe up to encourage her as well.

The women knowingly smirk at each other.

“You’ve got that right,” One says with a giggle, “Sera has quite the enchanting way with her body.”

“Yes, the best out of all of us! Go on, dance for us!”

My sister turns red, causing them all to erupt in laughter. I didn’t quite understand what they meant, but Seralind has always been humble about her talents.

I was convinced that if only Seralind would be less timid with the customers, they’d be able to experience her wonderful dancing and she’d never be behind on payments again, finally getting into Madame Whispet’s good graces.

Of course, I’d never see Seralind dance for a patron in person, but she said she would sway her hips in a rhythmic fashion, twirling and lifting her arms up above her head, saying she would listen to the music of her heart.

I was always mesmerized by her demonstrations, so I could understand how someone else would want to pay her to see it.

The ladies clamor together as they start to leave the vanity room to board the carriage. Their layered skirts were made up of tulle and lace, shortened dramatically to expose their legs and the stockings that they wore. Some of the skirts were simply flared out at the waist, only reaching their mid-thigh, while others had a train behind them.

Flowers and bows of ribbon were used to decorate the skirts and their bodices and tightened to give the illusion of a slim waist. Their costumes were completed with accessories like lace or ribbons tied around their necks and dyed ostrich feathers pinned into their hair, as no one here could afford real jewelry.

To me, they looked like ballerinas birthed from wildflowers that would be hidden deep within a forest.

“Let me get my slippers!” Seralind tells them before they all leave the room.

I hold my breath as Seralind approaches the wardrobe doors.

Should I admit that I did it? I ask myself at the last second. It would be the right thing to do, but…

I could already see Seralind’s betrayed expression, and the older ladies glaring down at me in disdain. They wouldn’t understand why, and I’d only get deeper into trouble. So instead, I pretend to be busy with my reflection as sweat beads on my neck.

“No!!” I hear her voice shriek. It breaks the chatter like a ball hitting a glass window. The other dancers clamor around Seralind as she holds up the shredded mess, her face pale.

“What could have done this?” She breathed, sitting on one of the velvet stools and holding the shoes so tenderly that I feared they might slip right through her fingers. The sight of her defeat saddened me, but this way she wouldn’t be able to go to the palace tonight.

“Maybe a mouse got to them?” The women offered, rubbing Seralind’s back comfortingly.

“How am I supposed to go to the palace now? The Madame will have my head for this!”

“You can just do something else, right?” I pipe up, coming closer to her and resting my hands on her lap. Seralind looks at me sadly. I had thought she’d be a little happy to potentially take a break, but it seemed as though her soul had been crushed.

“You surely can make up the money another way tonight.” A woman suggested.

“Yes! We won’t tell the Madame you didn’t come,” The other dancers agreed. She nodded solemnly, rubbing the soles with her fingers. Seralind looked close to tears, and I could only squeeze her hand.

“You can use mine, Seralind.”

Grace presented Seralind with her pair of slippers. I saw Seralind’s face brighten with relief, but my own stomach only flipped into knots.

“I won’t be going to the palace tonight, and I think I’m only half a size bigger than you. It should work just fine, won’t it?”

Why must my sister be so kind-hearted?!

“Thank you, Grace!” Seralind says, clutching the slippers close to her before slipping them onto her feet. She wiggles around in them, testing it. They looked tight at the toes with too much wiggle room on the sides, but Seralind seemed to be satisfied.

I watch helplessly as she idly puts herself together, ready to board the carriage that will take them to the palace entrance.

What should I do? What should I do!? I panic to myself, breathing heavily. I count the steps Seralind takes to the door, in tow with the other dancers and walking closer to our uncertain fate.

“W-Wait! I-I don’t feel good!” I say quickly, running up behind her and clutching Sera’s skirt.

She turns to look down at me, and I could see from her arched brow that she didn’t believe me at all.

“Really? Are you sick?” She asks, feeling my forehead.

“Y-Yes! I threw up!” I ramble. I even clutch my stomach to complete the act.

Seralind crouches in front of her, taking my small hands into hers. The other ladies clear the room and wait for her in the carriage outside.

“Esmeline, I cannot stay here, especially with the Madame’s new demands.” She tells me slowly.

“But if you go…” I start, wanting so desperately to tell her the potential consequences, but I stop myself.

What would I even say? That this opportunity is a curse in disguise? It would only upset her.

“I’ll miss you too, Esme, but don’t worry about me. I’ll be quite alright,” She reassures me, giving me a quick reassuring hug. “If you truly aren’t feeling well, just stay inside tonight. You’ll still have tomorrow to celebrate, alright?”

I realized then that there wasn’t much I could do that would keep her from going again tonight. I felt as though I was failing her again, wasting the opportunity given to me.

I only followed Seralind to the top of the stairs before watching her and the dancers descend and exit through the entryway. I could already hear the cheers of the citizens outside of the building, including the clatter of horse hooves on the cobblestone as people rode to the main square. Madame Whispet saw them off, scrutinizing them closely.

The last I saw of Seralind for the night was her glowing smile and the soft lace that adorned her costume.

Afterwards, I hid away in our bedroom, as now Madame Whispet would be too busy with the festivities to want me around. It was colder and much bigger without Seralind, and all I could think about were painful memories and regrets.

What did I do wrong? I think, ruminating over the day. Should I have destroyed her costume entirely? Or gone ahead with trying to injure her?

Maybe I wasn’t desperate enough.

I was trying to be brave, but I’m still the same scared girl that died in the snowy hills, just worse off by being trapped in the feeble body of a little girl.

I wish I was smarter… I sniffle to myself, feeling the tears blur my vision.

Only a couple more straggled breaths finally made me break down into uncontrollable sobs. I was still scared of dying, but this time I was scared that it would be my own fault if it happened again.

I didn’t know what someone like me could do to change fate. I tried to do something, but it seemed as though everything was simply chugging along to our doomed ending.

The uproar of the festival outside the room started up again. The lights and firecrackers lit up the sky outside my window in a barrage of oranges and pinks and bright blue, with music and laughter that was the direct opposite of the inner turmoil going on inside of me.

I was able to calm myself by listening to the indistinct voices and the tune of amateur musicians with their own instruments play the Solimarean anthem in a light jingle. It wormed its way into my mind, and I caught myself humming along as my body drifted into sleep from exhaustion.

Please… be safe, Seralind! I whisper to myself in the darkness, alone, but hoping my wish would guide divine energy to grant my prayer, just as it did once before.