Home Game: A Place That Cannot Be
I have served my masters well, both good and bad. I have never gone against their word, never said anything except "Yes, My Lord," and "Yes My Lady," no matter what the demand.
That is how I knew about the room that is not there.
It was in the cellar, oh so cleverly concealed by an old painting. Many thought it a vanity to have a painting, even in the cellar, but the current head of my household would laugh and say her grandfather put it there and she didn't dare move it.
It was only half a lie.
I knew exactly why she didn't move it.
I was trusted.
I watched for many years as she grew up, from quiet girl to solemn woman. Her eyes never changed once, always watching, never condemning me. She would squeeze my hand sometimes, before going to bed.
I made sure she at least had something to eat at night, so perhaps that was it.
Eventually, as with all things, it changed.
Her eyes lit up whenever the ladies of the household spoke of the ball, spoke of the dancing and especially of the Prince.
"Could you imagine it," she whispered, "dancing with the Prince?"
She never asked to go, she knew better. There were some events that could not be.
But if it could give her just one moment…
*
The day I broke my solemn vow to serve until death was a week before the ball. Somehow I found myself in a conversation that could not be happening, planning to disobey my mistress, the family I had served from the moment I could walk.
I rummaged through my dead wife's things, found the perfect shoes. I had a cousin who could get a dress. A long time associate who could appropriate a carriage. If I was found out, it was likely I would be killed, if not thrown out.
Looking into her eyes when she spoke of the inevitability of her life made me even more determined.
*
The night came, and I shut her in as always. The mistress and her two daughters left. I waited as long as I could, nervously pacing the kitchen. Everyone but her knew by now. All of them thought I was crazy, but none of them said a word.
Because we all loved her in our own way, had raised her, only to see her beginning to break. If we could give her a reason not to, then it was worth it. Even if we were found out.
"Is it morning already?" She blinked.
"No, " I said. "But I have a surprise."
Her face when she saw the dress was the happiest moment of my life.
"I can't," she said, "I mean-"
"You can and you will."
She was glowing by the time we were done, her eyes shining, her face still slightly worried.
I handed her a mask. "Just have fun. For all of us."
She nodded and kissed me on the cheek, waving furiously as the carriage drove away.
*
I am not a father, but have never felt more like one than on that night. I was proud and scared.
She came home in a rush.
"I almost forgot the deadline, and I ran away, and, oh I lost your shoe!"
"But did you have fun?"
Her smile said everything.
"I danced with the Prince. He followed me out the hall. Asked my name. It was lovely."
She walked out then to change, and I couldn't help but ask when we went down the stairs.
"Why didn't you tell him?"
Her smile was an ache in my heart, her eyes so solemn.
"Because there are things that cannot be. I am a girl who lives in a room that does not exist. He lives in a palace. Know this, tonight was everything I could have ever hoped and more."
She squeezed my hand as she always did, and kissed my cheek.
"Thank you," she whispered.
She never spoke of it after that, not even when the others returned and complained of the 'chit who stole the Prince's heart'. She simply smiled with her head ducked, and went about the normality of the day.
It broke my heart.
*
The day I left my mistress was no different than any other. We were in the capital for business reasons. I had come to assist, but I had abandoned them for one final flight of insanity.
I never knew how I made it to the Prince's assistant, only that I said I knew about the mysterious girl in blue. When the Prince swept in, his hair disheveled and bags under his eyes, I bowed my head and hoped.
"You have exactly one minute to speak."
I nodded, and pulled the shoe out of my bag. The Prince's eyes widened, and he swallowed.
"All right, you have my attention."
I let out a breath. "My wife wore these shoes to our wedding. So when I gave them to Ella to wear, understand it was because I think of her as my daughter."
"Her name is Ella?" The Prince's voice cracked.
I nodded. "Her name is Ella, and she lives in a place that cannot be. That should not be. There is a door that is not a door, oh so carefully hidden…"
I told my tale that day, betraying my mistress, a thing I thought I could never do.
There were a lot of things that could not be, and somehow, they all of a sudden were and I cannot begin to describe my heart.
It broke when I opened the door, and the room was full of boxes and dusty furniture. I turned to see my mistress smirking at me, laughing with her eyes. I almost borke then. The I remembered Ella and turned away. I entered the room, not calling out, for fear of not getting an answer. Then in a corner, underneath a large table I spied some rags, and a stray bit of hair
This was the happiest moment of my life:. I pointed it out to the Prince. He went over and lifted the rags, to find her, beaten, bloodied, and smiling.
Despite the fear in my heart, that was the happiest moment of my life.
Her smile when she saw him, when she knew she was finally leaving the room she had spent her life in.
Not even her wedding beat that.