The Mechanisms

Ding dong

She stands, a child, in regal finery. She gazes out of the window over the sprawling city. She knows her father owns all of it, and that one day she will too, yet her eyes are drawn upwards, above the spires and the towers, to the night sky. The stars are what she loves, and she cannot help but stare.

Ding dong

She stands by a bedside. Older now, but not old enough to fully understand why her mother lies so still. Or why her father and all their attendants are crying.

Ding dong

She watches a wedding. Old enough to know why her father marries again, and old enough to recognise the cold, subtle hatred she feels coming from his new wife and two repulsive daughters. Old enough to see it, but not yet wise enough to understand it.

Ding dong

She is at her window again, watching the stars. She sees a comet streaking across the sky. Then another. Then another still. She continues believing it to be a meteor shower until the very moment of the first explosion.

Ding dong

She is held, her arms cuffed behind her back. On the floor of the throne room she sees her father, blood pooling beneath him, while on the seat that is rightfully his another sits. The withered old man that now occupies it is having his hand kissed by her stepmother, the wisps of aged beard on his face twisted into a parody of a smile. Behind him a soldier looks over the articles of surrender and nods.

Ding dong

She sits in her cell. She is older now, though how much so she cannot say, as time passes strangely in these four walls. She has not been mistreated too badly, as she is to be an example of the new king’s mercy, but she is cold, she is hungry and she is very much alone.

Ding dong

She stands at the bars. There is a new commander of the prison complex, and the guards talk much of her. A flash of scarlet hair, a moment of eye contact, and a sensation unlike any she has ever before know. Did this Rose feel it too?

Ding dong

She weeps in her cell. Her Rose is to be transferred today. All the glances, all the smiles, all the brief moments of contact as food is passed through the door. Was it all in her mind? Or did others see and suspect them? Is that why they are taking her away?

Ding dong

She stands outside the prison. The woman in white, her saviour, gestures for her to hurry, and says that they don’t have much time. A beautiful dress, a carriage, a ring. If she is married by midnight, she is told, the law will protect her, and she will never need to return to those cells. She is going to be with her Rose.

Ding dong

She stands at an altar, facing her beloved. Words drone in the background, as the ceremony washes over her. She stares into the eyes of her Rose, one glass ring already on her finger, the other poised to slip onto the hand of her betrothed. She has never been so happy.

Ding dong

She hears a gunshot outside, followed by screams. They can’t be coming for her, they can’t, it’s too soon. But why else would they be here? Somewhere in the distance a clock begins to chime. Another gunshot. Her hand jumps, dropping the glass ring, its glowing red jewel falling towards the floor. It is caught in one hand by her Rose, a reflex, as the other hand disappears into the dress and brings out a pistol.

Ding dong

The clock strikes midnight and Cinders runs.