Chapter Twelve:

The Solution

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"That's a terrible idea."

"It might work."

"It might not."

"Harriet, I don't think there is another option!" Clara retorted. She had told Harriet of her plan a little over three hours ago, and Harriet was still expressing her doubts. Apparently, there were many of them.

"Right, of course. Sorry if I don't want my older sister forcing herself into a loveless marriage for money," Harriet snapped.

"We need money to pay for a doctor!"

"Yes, but if you were thinking of selling yourself off to a rich man, why don't you just become a lady of the night, hmm? At least then you'd still have your freedom." Harriet's words were punctuated by the slamming of the attic door.

"Harriet!" Clara called after her sister, but she got no answer in return. Clara heaved a sigh, rocking back on the heels of her feet. She had been running around all day, trying to help her step-sisters get ready for the ball, as well as trying to find something to wear herself.

Her first thought had been to use one of the dresses from her mother's chest, but upon opening it she realized just how much work would have to be done to get them into shape before the next day. Despite all of Clara's efforts, the mice, the dust, and a few pesky spiders had gotten to the chest.

The blue and the lavender gowns were covered in spider webs as well as their creators. Needless to say, this caused Clara to shriek rather loudly when she picked up the blue gown to see a giant spider. However, it only made her heart hurt more when she realized that if James had been with her, he would have insisted on saving the spiders. Instead, he was down in the kitchen, still tossing and turning in a feverish slumber.

The gold and silver gowns were not in much better shape. The mice seemed to of had a field day with the beading and the lace on both gowns, and Clara was more than thankful that there weren't any of the rodents hiding in the dress folds.

Staring down at her only dress options, she tried to not let her heart sink. Her idea would never work if the gowns weren't in good shape. Her plan was a tricky one, and she felt like she was betraying her own heart and common sense just thinking of it.

Her idea was the same idea every single girl in the kingdom had. However, behind her idea was a sense of urgency that she doubted everyone else had. Her solution was that she was to dress up, go to the four balls, and convince a wealthy man to fall in love with her so that way she could pay for a doctor for James.

There was only one problem. Clara didn't have the slightest clue how to talk to men, let alone get one of them to fall for her. Sure, she had heard all of Linette's "lessons" over the years on the ways of men and what they supposedly liked, but she didn't even understand half of them.

According to Linette, men liked small waisted, ample-bosomed, full-lipped, large-eyed, child-sized footed, slender-legged, tall women who did everything they were told, only talked to when they were spoken to, and didn't have a mind of their own. Clara didn't think she even fitted any of those criteria, except maybe the small waist.

Clara didn't have an "ample bosom", nor was she spectacularly tall. She was just kind of average. She definitely didn't do everything she was told, she always spoke even when she wasn't supposed to, and she had a mind of her own.

She decided if only for her own peace of mind, to forget the majority of Linette's lessons in how to ensnare a man. It didn't seem possible that any woman could actually have all of those qualities, and if they did, they were sure to be incredibly unstable, at least balance wise.

Shutting the lid of the chest with a snap, Clara stood up and walked over to sit on one of the crates. Since James had gotten hurt four days ago, Clara and her siblings had stayed in the kitchen to sleep instead of in their drafty attic room. It was Clara's hope that maybe James' fever would break but after a couple of days without any change, good or bad, she was beginning to panic.

This solution of hers was her only plan. What would she do if it went wrong?

"Clara!" A voice shrieked. Clara jumped a little where she sat, glaring reproachfully towards the closed attic door. That would be her stepsisters.

"Clara!" Another voice shrieked, and Clara resigned herself to her fate. Standing up, she stretched, feeling her back pop from being bent over most of the day. She followed the sounds of the shrieks out of the attic, down the hallway, and eventually into Estella's room.

The sight that met her was startling, to say the least. Both of her stepsisters were pulling on the same dress. Edina's wiry black hair was coming out of its plait in scraggly strands and Estella had sweat beads on her forehead and bright red cheeks but neither of them were budging.

"Mother said I was going to wear this one!"

"No, she promised I could!"

"She said I could because I am the eldest!"

"By three minutes! I'm the prettiest, I should get to wear the dress!" Estella retorted, and Clara did her best not to roll her eyes. Didn't they have any other arguments? Did it always have to be the same thing every time? Clara cleared her throat loudly, getting the attention of her stepsisters.

"You called?"

"Yes!" Estella let go of the dress abruptly, but since Edina was still throwing all of her weight into holding onto the dress, she tumbled backward with a high-pitched squeal.

"You did that on purpose!" Edina said, getting to her feet as swiftly as her many layers and bodice would allow her. She rubbed her backside with a scowl. "If I get a bruise, I'm telling Mother." Estella just rolled her eyes in answer.

"Anyway, yes. I need your help! I have to make the Prince fall in love with me!" Estella said, pulling Clara's arm and forcing her to sit on the stool in front of the vanity."Can you imagine it? Me living in the palace, having all the gowns I could ever want, and a different gemstone on every finger." Estella promptly feigned a swoon, putting the back of her hand to her forehead and fluttering her eyelashes.

"I can't," Edina drawled. "Because it will be me living in the palace, using golden cutlery, and being the envy of all the women in the kingdom."

Clara watched her step-sisters turn to scowl at each other.

"What if someone else marries him?" Clara asked. Both Edina and Estella gasped.

"Like who?"

"I don't know, just someone else." Clara broke eye contact with her step-sisters and tried to get up from the stool when a hand suddenly came down on her shoulder.

"Oh Clara, do you think you are going to marry the Prince?" Edina said, her voice sounding sickeningly sweet. "I don't know why he would. If he wanted to marry a servant he could just marry one of his own. He already has over two-hundred-and-fifty of them, he hardly needs another one."

"I wasn't talking about me!"

"Sure you weren't."

"Oh stop it Edina, for all we know Clara might have a better chance than we do!" Estella said, picking up an acid green gown and holding it to the front of her chest. She put it down when she noticed Clara and Edina's stares. "What? It's true. She's much better at talking to people than us."

"Hmmph. About what? Dusting? She wouldn't know how to talk to anyone about anything important."

"Agreed," a voice intoned by the door and Clara looked over to see Linette standing there, her arms crossed over her chest. "Clara, come."

Clara stood up and followed her, giving Estella an apologetic look. Estella was definitely the nicer one of her two sisters.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Linette hissed as she led the way down the stairs.

"Estella and Edina asked me to help them," Clara answered, even though she never did find out exactly what they had wanted help with.

"Well, you can't. I have things for you to do. I need you to run some errands, pick up the new dresses for Estella and Edina, clean the house, and tend the garden." Linette shoved a list into Clara's hand of all the things needed from town.

"But I thought you said-"

"You don't question me," Linette said, and Clara clenched her jaw involuntarily. "What are you waiting for?"

"I have something to ask you," Clara said, not waiting for the go ahead to speak she plowed on. "I would like to go to one of the balls."

Linette stared at her, and then laughed. "You at a ball? Don't make me laugh. You wouldn't know the first thing to do. Not to mention what you wear?"

"One of my mother's old gowns. But think about it; if I can find a husband, you'd have me out of your hair," Clara said, trying to get Linette to agree. Linette paused, giving Clara a calculated look.

"If you finish all of the chores I just gave you, can find yourself a decent dress, and manage to help your step-sisters get ready, I will think about it," Linette finally said, and Clara couldn't help but grin. "Now get to work!"

Clara nodded before running off to do the tasks that had been set to her. She first got all of the items on Linette's list, then her step-sisters' dresses. While the items were hardly any trouble to get, the dresses proved a little more difficult.

Each dress was an obnoxious variation of either yellow or pink and each dress was made to have a large hoop skirt underneath it, meaning the fabric flared out a lot. Clara, upon realizing that there was not two dresses, but eight of them, one for each sister per night, she had to quickly rethink her plan.

She rushed home first with the items and two of the dresses, then she went back out, only to return with the rest of them. By the time she got back from the last errand, her muscles were straining under the weight of so much heavy fabric, and her eyes ached from the vibrant colors.

When she finally made her way up to the attic to look through her mother's chest yet again, she was met by the sight of a pile of clothes sitting in the center of the attic floor. Walking closer, she picked up the note and frowned.

In Linette's curling script read the words: To be cleaned and pressed by tomorrow. Looking at the pile of clothes again, Clara realized what they were. They were the undergarments that her step-sisters wished to wear to the balls.

Scrunching her nose, she carried them all back downstairs to the kitchen so she could be closer to the pump. This would require a lot of water. Tapping the kitchen door open with her foot, she walked in and set her workload onto the kitchen table, catching the eyes of her younger sisters as she did so. They were all quiet for a moment.

"That's a lot of clothes," Amelia stated, gaping up at the pile that was nearly bigger than her.

"Yes, it is." Clara wiped her hands on her apron and walked around the kitchen to gather the necessary washing supplies. She set to work, moving as quickly as she could. If she even wanted to get her dress ready by tomorrow she would have to work fast.

After a good five minutes Amelia started to help her silently, and ten minutes later Harriet did as well. Time passed and Clara caught Harriet glancing over at James worriedly multiple times, but when Clara would try to make eye contact with her, she would look away. Finally, Harriet set down the section of underdress she had been working on, and Clara and Amelia followed suit.

"I don't like it. I think it's a stupid idea, but I'll help you," Harriet said bluntly, and Clara gave her a half-smile. She hadn't expected anything less from her. "Anyway, someone's got to make sure you look good."

Clara chuckled as all three of them got back to work. She didn't bother to mention that Harriet hated dresses and knew next to nothing about them, but it was the thought that counted. They all worked late into the night. However, eventually Harriet and Amelia grew tired, and Clara nudged them over to the hearth to lay next to their ailing little brother.

Clara continued to work until the early hours of the morning, making sure that the clothing was folded precisely, and once she was done she placed them carefully on the dining room table. Her stepfamily would find them there if they thought to look for them.

Trudging up the stairs to the attic, she wiped at her blurry eyes, feeling the effects of no sleep more keenly than she ever had before. Clara was about to sit down by her mother's chest when she changed direction, moving to one of the windows instead.

Going up to it, she opened the curtains and then the window itself, relishing in the cool morning air. Looking out to the horizon she could just barely see the first rays of sunlight hitting the roof of the royal palace in the distance, making the roof shine almost a brilliant gold as it reflected the light.

She couldn't believe that today was the day of the first ball, and if everything went to plan, by the evening she would be dancing in a ballroom underneath that very roof. However, looking back towards her mother's chest, she knew she had a lot to do first.

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Anyway, do you think Linette will let Clara go to the balls? What do you think of Harriet's opinion, do you agree? Tell me in the comments!

You'll be in for a treat next chapter! There will be a change of Point of View, so any guess as to whose point of view it will be?

Don't forget to vote if you liked the chapter!