Page 9 of Cursed By Gold

The sketch of an ornate capital G transformed into a flower sits on the bottom corner of the page. The sign of the GGG, or really one of many. The G is the important part. It is always transformed into something unassuming by whoever it is that uses it to make it clear who the sender is, their matching mark inked onto their skin. My own is hidden on my upper thigh. An area that would be easy to show, but difficult to accidentally sneak a peek of.

I glance back at my stepsisters and see they are thoroughly engrossed in their search for the perfect dress. I quickly tuck the note away, thankful for this opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

No one makes Fairy Godmother wait.

Taking a deep breath, I hurriedly weave through alleyways and narrow streets until I arrive at Herlads, a small tea shop tucked away in the corner of the market. It is almost empty this time of day, so it isn’t hard to spot her. She is sitting in a booth near the back, wearing an elegant blue dress and sipping a cup of tea.

She waves me over with a kind smile. “Hello dear! It’s good to see you again. I trust your family is doing well?”

I nod politely playing my part as I slide into the chair opposite her, placing my packages on the floor beside me. “Yes, ma’am, we’re all doing fine,” I say hastily before getting down to business. “You wanted to meet with me about something?”

Fairy Godmother's voice drops to a hushed murmur, though her words seem to reverberate strangely in my mind. Perhapsshe is using magic to ensure privacy, even here in the open. It is unlike her to take such a risk.

"The masquerade is the perfect chance to infiltrate the castle and reclaim the Bodian Crown unnoticed," she says, eyes intent on mine. "With all the guests coming and going, you can blend into the crowds."

My pulse quickens at the thought. Ever since my failed attempt to steal the crown, just setting foot near the castle makes my hands tremble. A royal ball surrounded by guards seems like a death wish.

Sensing my hesitation, Fairy Godmother gives my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "You're more than capable, my dear. Just get inside and reclaim the crown, then disappear into the night."

I force a shaky smile, wishing I shared her confidence. As a thief, I prefer the shadows. Deception and charm are not my strengths. But I cannot fail at this job again. That crown is my one chance to earn enough gold to save my inheritance from my stepfamily's clutches.

Taking a deep breath, I meet Fairy Godmother's expectant gaze. "I'll do it. No matter the risk, I will get inside the castle and take back that crown."

Pride lights up her eyes. She raises a hand to flag down the server, her words once again muted. "Excellent. Now about your gown, I think red would be quite striking..."

A smile tugged at my lips as her enthusiasm proved infectious. "Red sounds perfect," I said, a twinge of excitement welling up inside me. "Thank you for all of your help."

Fairy Godmother waved away my thanks with a dismissive gesture. “It’s my pleasure, dear. Now, let’s talk strategy. We’ll need to get you an invitation, and a mask, of course. And we’ll need to figure out how to get inside without attracting too much attention...”

As she spoke, her voice began to fade into the background, my mind racing with the possibilities of the masquerade. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to do this - slip into the palace, surrounded by people, and try to steal the Bodian crown again. But the thought of the rush, the adrenaline of the perfect heist, made my heart race with anticipation.

This was going to be one for the history books, I thought with a grin.

With her words of encouragement ringing in my ears, I left the tea shop and made my way back to the market, my mind racing with plans and schemes. I knew that this would be a risky venture and that there was a possibility that I might not make it back out.

Masquerade Preparations

Scarlet

Istep into the parlor, sunlight streaming through the tall mullioned windows, illuminating clouds of dust kicked up by my stepsisters' frenzied activity. Petunia and Starla are a whirlwind of chatter and fluttering silks before the towering gilt mirror.

"Oh Petunia, you must try this one - the color pairs divinely with your complexion," Starla gushes, holding up an emerald gown against her sister's ruddy cheek.

Petunia gasps, pressing a hand to her ample bosom. "You're so right, dear sister! Let me slip it on."

I shift the cumbersome box of family jewels in my weary arms and glance toward Stepmother ensconced in the corner like a queen holding court. Pillows nearly overwhelmed her thin frame in the delicate rosewood chair as she observes the proceedings,thin lips pursed in perpetual displeasure. The tea and pastries I rushed to prepare at dawn sit untouched beside her.

"Girls, you must select gowns that properly flatter your best features," she pronounces in clipped tones. "We can't have you looking like tavern wenches."

Petunia preens before the mirror in the emerald dress, which highlights her ginger curls beautifully but strains at the seams.

Stepmother tsks under her breath. "Perhaps something with a more...forgiving cut."

Petunia's face falls momentarily before brightening again. "You're so right, Stepmother. This shade washes me out dreadfully. Now this!" She flourishes a garish fuchsia gown against her frame.

I ache as I shift the jewel box again, simmering resentment. Just one piece sold could finance such urgent repairs, yet here I stand, enabling such wanton indulgence while our family legacy crumbles.

"Oh yes, much better!" Starla claps. "The king himself will beg for your hand when he beholds you in fuchsia."

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