Moonlight and Ashes by Sophie Masson Page A

order a boxful of one of the Angel’s specialities, blue and white sugared almonds in silver nets. She reasoned that once the Prince had seen her daughters and fallen in love with one of them, he’d surely accept an invitation to a smaller, more intimate affair at the house.
    Or, that was the gossip in the kitchens. And at the Angel, too, according to Maria. She and I laughed at how every mother of an unmarried young woman was thinking exactly the same thing, causing the Angel to be overwhelmed with orders for their sugared almonds. Then she grew serious and said it was a disgrace that I wasn’t going to the ball, that I had as much of a right – or more – to be there as those two spoiled girls, and I nearly blurted outmy secret but restrained myself in time. I said it didn’t matter to me and I had nothing to wear anyway.
    â€˜I can lend you something – a dress I’ve made for my daughter’s wedding later this year,’ she said. ‘I would be happy – honoured – to lend it to you.’ I tried to protest. ‘No, Maria, you’ve already been so kind to me – you don’t need to do that.’ But she said, ‘Why don’t you come and try it on, anyway, just to oblige me?’
    So I followed Maria to her room at the back of the bakery. A widow, Maria lives at the Angel during the week when she works, while her daughter lives with Maria’s mother in the country, the two only able to see each other on Sundays. She opened the trunk she kept in the corner. From it she took out a long parcel covered with rose petals and, unwrapping the tissue paper, she revealed a lovely muslin dress with a full skirt of cream and honey-coloured stripes, a cream bodice set with panels of fine lace dyed a delicate green, a hem embroidered with honey-coloured rosebuds, and elbow-length sleeves finished with ribbons of the same colour as the lace.
    â€˜Oh, it’s so beautiful!’ Shame on me, I hadn’t expected anything quite as lovely. ‘You are a wonderful needlewoman, Maria.’
    â€˜You think so? I’m glad,’ she said, flushing a little. ‘It is my hobby when I have time. Once, I dreamed I might . . . Never mind, life gave me what it did and I don’t regret a thing. But I wanted to give my daughter the most beautiful dress I could afford – and that meant I had to make it. I was lucky – the people at the draper’s were very kind and allowed me to have bits of this and bits of that and for not very much. The lace is from a coupleof handkerchiefs from my mother’s own wedding day, which I dyed to look more modern. And rosebuds for my daughter’s name – Rosa, as you know. So you think it does look all right? It doesn’t look like it is too much bits of this and that?’
    â€˜Not at all,’ I said warmly. ‘It is most charming and original – no other bride will have anything like it, I am sure of that. Rosa will be the prettiest bride in all the empire!’
    Maria’s face grew beautiful with her smile. ‘You are a sweet girl, Selena.’ Then her eyes took on an impish gleam. ‘But now, will you try it on – just to show you mean what you say?’
    â€˜Maria . . .’ I protested, but she insisted, and so I slipped out of my old patched dress and stood in my shabby petticoat as Maria carefully slid the dress over my head.
    It fell around me in whisper-soft folds, giving off a faint fragrance of roses, and Maria breathed, ‘Oh, it fits perfectly! And you look lovely! Wait, let me show you.’
    She took a hand mirror from the table by her bed and held it up to me. The mirror was old, the polished surface a bit tarnished, but I could see myself and the sight gripped at my heart. ‘You must take it, Selena, you must, and you must go to the ball, no matter what those ones want.’
    â€˜No – I can’t – and it’s your