Hilda thought her heart would burst from her chest, it pounded so violently. Her daughter. Dear, dear Esmeralda, soon to be introduced to all of Chalmers as the future queen. Why, she could hardly maintain her seat.
And now, a ball in her honor. Esmeralda's honor, of course. It was a dream come true. Soon, Hilda-would be mother of a princess, a future queen.
Hilda cast a covert glance to Pricilla. With her lovely blond locks she presented breathtaking sight in her soft rose gown and drawn up curls. The prince would have made a better match with her, but for the unfortunate size of her large feet.
One would think Royalty had much better vision. Ah, but it had not been vision, had it? But the size of a foot. Asinine, if one could say. But one would be a fool to call the prince an ass, wouldn't one? Pricilla was certainly the more attractive of her two daughters. Her gray eyes set off a brilliance one could not help but notice. Hilda hid a frown behind her wine. An opportunity to marry Pricilla off advantageously could not be ignored.
She had only one pressing issue to take deal with hereto. Hilda sipped slowly, conscious of the fragile glass she held, heart still thumping wildly. She set a thoughtful gaze on Cinderella, hiding her disgust at the light purple dress. Why, that color would appear better on one of her vermin field mouse friends than Cinderella. And where had it come from, pray tell?
It appeared time for one of their heart-to-heart assemblies. It would have to be discreet, of course. The queen seemed to have taken an unnatural interest in her stepchild. She worried not, however. An opportunity would present itself. She inhaled the fragrance of the dark red wine. It always had before.
With half an ear, Hilda listened to the hum of conversation surrounding her while her mind drifted back to Her Majesty's sitting room. Tea service trimmed in genuine gold. She struggled to hold back her glee. Such luxury and comfort of the palace left her lightheaded. Soon she would have a suite of her own. Possibly a wing of her own. Only natural as the mother of the future queen.
"…tour throughout the gardens?" the queen asked.
Deep shades of green and gold velvet covered armchairs of carved, gilded wood. Shimmering draperies hung to the floor in swathes of silk. Hilda smiled. She had an eye for these things.
"It was lovely. I am especially fond of stories surrounding the Greek gods…" Cinderella's soft voice snapped her attention back with a vengeance. With a bland eye, Hilda took special care not to let her disgust show.