Stealing Cinderella(4)
“Maybe Cinderella could tend to the fire tonight.” Lavinia holds me hostage with her shrewd eyes, taunting me with the nickname.
Without thinking, my attention drifts to the sleeves covering the scars on my arms, and Lavinia doesn’t miss it. A wicked gleam flashes in her eyes, and I shudder at the memory. The way she tells the story, I slipped and fell into the fire, but the truth is, she flew into a fit of rage when I’d refused to do her homework. She’d pushed me straight into the fireplace with so much force I was convinced she never wanted me to crawl back out. To this day, I can’t forget the expression on her face when I dragged myself out of there, pleading for her help. The pleasure she reaped from my suffering was nothing short of psychotic. I’ve done my best to steer clear of her tantrums since then, but I always wonder what evil is lurking just beneath the surface.
“What do you think, Ella?” Narcissa asks. “Are you up for the task?”
“Please, no.” I shake my head. “I’ll do anything else. I won’t be late again, I swear it.”
“Very well.” She sighs. “In that case, you can give me whatever you earn from your little sewing projects this week.”
The protest tumbles from my lips before I can think better of it. “I can’t. I’ve already promised that money to Olivia.”
Narcissa whips her hand out, snatching a handful of my hair and tugging until it feels like she’s going to rip it from the roots. “Did I just hear you tell me no?”
I stare through her, biting my tongue before I say something else I’ll regret. Already, the dishes in my hands are about to topple over, and God knows I don’t want to provoke her again.
“Answer me!” She leans into my face, eyes piercing mine.
“You can have the money,” I reply bitterly. “I’ll give it to you just as soon as I have it.”
“You disgust me.” She shoves my head away, and I stumble back, nearly losing the dishes as I try to steady myself. “Pathetic, ungrateful little bitch. All these years, I’ve had to support you. I could have sent you to an orphanage, you know. It’s times like these I wish I had.”
Biting back the sting of my emotions, I try again to move past her, but she isn’t done yet.
“You can forget about going to the farm this week,” she adds. “You’ll be doing chores at the manor from sunup to sundown.”
“Okay.” I force myself to reply before she makes it two weeks.
“And while you’re enjoying that, we’ll be getting ready for the ball,” Lavinia chimes in. “You’ll need to steam all my dresses so I can decide which one I want to wear.”
“What ball?” My gaze whips to her.
“The royal family is hosting a masked charity ball.” She speaks as if I’m too slow to comprehend such a thing. “All the eligible royals from around the world have been invited. And this morning, our dearest mummy managed to secure us tickets.”
“Us?” My belly flutters as I consider what this could mean.
“Don’t be daft.” Narcissa slices her red clawed hand through the air with a sense of finality as she points at her daughters. “Lavinia and Magnolia will attend the ball with me. These tickets are very exclusive, and you would just embarrass us.”
“That’s right,” Lavinia snarls. “We need everything to go perfectly for the next two weeks, so you better not do anything to muck it up.”
“Yes, your responsibilities here are what’s important,” Narcissa echoes. “There isn’t any time to be sitting around on your arse, do you understand?”
“Of course.” The hope I’d dared to have dies swiftly.
In all honesty, I couldn’t care less about attending a royal ball. But if I could just speak with the British Prince for a few moments, I’m convinced I could get him on board with helping the sanctuary.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Narcissa shoos me away. “Go fix dinner. And then get to your chores. We have a lot of planning to do.”
For the rest of the evening, my stepsisters concoct a detailed plan of attack on every royal bachelor they deem worthy. There are notebooks and newspaper clippings and photographs spread across the kitchen table as they dissect every potential weakness for the singletons they aim to snag.
“No, not him,” Magnolia whines as I clear away the last of the dishes. “He looks too cross. But his brother Calder, on the other hand—”
“They’re twins.” Lavinia rolls her eyes. “They look the same, apart from the hair. And it doesn’t matter if Thorsen is too cross. He’s the heir apparent, which means he’s rich, and he’s going to be king someday.”
“Good thinking,” Narcissa praises her. “We can’t rule anyone out just because they might not have a sunny disposition.”
I disappear into the kitchen and scrub the dishes and floors before retiring to the attic. When my father died, Narcissa exiled me to the small space with nothing more than a bed and a solitary window to call my own. It might be a little drafty and dark up here, but I don’t mind. This is the only place in the whole manor that still reminds me of my father, and there are even a few boxes of his belongings she hasn’t managed to get rid of yet. Everything else was sold before she redecorated the place with gaudy furniture and horrible wallpaper.