10. The Reunion
It had been so long since my real mother called me her “sweet Sherrie.” After she passed away, not a single person had called me pretty.
It seemed to be the nature of female friends to compliment one another’s appearance, and even though I knew it was just flattery, it still made me a little happy.
But tonight, thanks to my stepmother’s magic, I was truly, breathtakingly beautiful—like a different person entirely. Even I—the girl who looked in the mirror every day and saw someone unattractive—thought that the person in the mirror tonight was beautiful.
It felt as if I were observing someone else, and in a way, I was. This was only possible because of my stepmother’s magic.
—Humility is a virtue, but self-deprecation is not something to be shown outwardly.
Then tonight, I will allow myself to be proud. I will forget humility, just for tonight. Along with all my self-deprecation.
This is a one-night dream, cast by a magic spell. But my goal remains the same. Whether I am beautiful or not, I must find someone who will see my inner self.
I have spent years polishing my inner self. I haven’t compared it to anyone else’s, but I am certain it is at a level I need not be ashamed of. My stepmother has consistently praised and nurtured it.
And tonight, added to that, is my stepmother’s magic… a face made up to be as beautiful as a stranger’s. My stepmother, the servants… they all told me I was beautiful tonight. …And my father, for the first time in so long, actually looked at me.
I will smile with confidence, move through the hall, and speak with as many people as I can. Until I meet someone who will see my inner self.
…I’d love to dance, but I wonder if there will be time. Perhaps I’ll meet someone I can converse with while dancing. And as I am tonight, I might even be asked to dance.
As I was lost in these thoughts in the carriage, we arrived. The coachman took my hand and helped me down in front of the venue.
I climbed the grand staircase one step at a time, careful not to fall—the very staircase I should have been ascending on my father’s arm. Fortunately, a red carpet had been laid down, providing some traction, so as long as I didn’t step on the hem of my dress, I should be fine.
I stood before a set of large double doors. A guard was posted there; when I gave my name, he opened the doors for me. An invitation had been sent to all nobles of count rank or higher, so even a woman alone could gain entry by showing it.
The doors swung open. Braziers had been lit outside, but the inside was as bright as day, illuminated by countless chandeliers and sconces on the walls.
“Announcing the arrival of Lady Sheryl Muzel, daughter of the Count!”
An attendant inside the hall bellowed my name. The room was already filled with people enjoying their conversations, but his voice cut through the din.
The entrance was on the second floor, at the top of the stairs from outside. Below, a set of arched staircases led down to the main hall.
At the attendant’s call, the chattering guests turned their eyes toward the entrance, if only out of habit.
Gradually, a hush fell over the hall.
(W-was it strange after all…? If the foundation is flawed, then perhaps even my stepmother’s magic isn’t enough…)
A terrible thought crossed my mind. I had to descend the stairs and stand in the hall. But pinned by so many eyes, surrounded by such silence, my feet were frozen to the spot.
It was all I could do to keep a smile fixed on my face. But I couldn’t move. I had a feeling that if I tried to move now, I would surely fall.
Just then, a man began to ascend the stairs toward me. He was tall, with handsome features, golden hair that glittered under the chandeliers, and bright green eyes.
“It has been a long time, Lady Sheryl. Please, grant me the honor of being your escort.”
It can’t be, I thought. It was true my name had been announced, but the last time we met, I was under a different kind of my stepmother’s magic.
How could he possibly remember…? There’s no way he could connect that girl with the person I am tonight.
The smiling man before me, though older, still bore the same features. It was the son of the Duke, Hugues Felix.