Sinful Cinderella

I whirl around in the doorway. “What?”

Moody shrugs. “You know how she is. She doesn’t like you much, but a queen in the family is a good thing. It’ll mean more money, more prestige for the rest of us. She even wrote a letter.”

“She wrote a letter!”

“Lunilla took it to the palace yesterday. Of course she read it on the way. Mother told the prince your name, described what you look like, and told him where we live. But I wouldn’t worry.”

I’m clutching the doorframe, my body a seething flame of fury. “Why not?”

“Because every mother wants the prince to choose her daughter. Lunilla says they’re all making fools of themselves, claiming their daughter was the woman in black. He’s probably received a thousand such letters.” Moody shrugs again. “Just thought I’d tell you because you haven’t been out.”

I’m still holding the scrubbing brush in my hand. Now I hurl it at Moody. It strikes her shoulder, making her flinch and jump off the couch. “What was that for!” she shouts.

“Because you’re useless!” I scream.

I turn down the hallway and see Loony coming toward me. She smirks and lifts her eyebrows like she wants to say something snarky. But I don’t let her.

“Where is Stepmother?” I reach out and roughly grab her ear, digging my fingernails into the lobe. “Where is she?”

“Ow. OW! Stop it!” Loony shrieks, her head tilting against my hand. “She’s in her room, get OFF me!”

I let go and sprint upstairs while Loony shouts “Freak!” and “Maniac!” and threatens to smash my head with a frying pan. I dash down the hall to Stepmother’s bedroom and shove open the door without knocking. Stepmother is at her writing desk, scratching a quill over parchment.

“Writing to the prince again?” I snarl.

Stepmother looks up at me, then down at the parchment again. “No. Next week’s menu for Cook.” She dips the quill in the inkbottle and writes another line. “Who told you?” she asks quietly.

“Melodie.” I’m shaking all over. I want to do so many things to her, each one worse than the next.

Stepmother sets down the quill and turns to me in her chair. She folds her hands in her lap. “I think perhaps you fail to consider the advantages of this match.”

I point at her face. “Don’t even try that. We both know that’s not why you’re doing it!”

Stepmother opens her hands. “Tell me, then. Why am I doing it?”

“Because you hate me. You’ve always hated me. You want the prince to find me so I’ll be unhappy!”

Stepmother stands and paces a little, holding her elbows. She looks down at the floor as if thinking before she speaks.

“When your father came to court me, I admit I was happy. He spoke of you frequently, but I did not perceive you as a problem then. It wasn’t until after we married....” She stops and takes a deep breath. “I saw the way he cherished you, how his eyes shone when he looked at you. They never shone for me. And then one day I realized the truth. He didn’t marry me for me. He married me for you.”

I silently disagree. Yes, perhaps that was part of it. But I do think my father cared for Stepmother. Not as much as he loved my mother, at least I hope not. But he wouldn’t have married her unless he had some regard. My father was a good man.

But there’s no point trying to convince her of that. She allowed her mind to warp the past, by now it’s far beyond repair. And I couldn’t care less.

“So you want to get rid of me,” I say.

“Oh, much more than that, my darling.” Stepmother says, her voice hardening into steel. “I want you to walk in my shoes, to marry a man who cares nothing for you except as a mother for his child. I want you to suffer as I have suffered.”

I clench my fists. “Do you think I have not suffered?” My chest starts to heave. “You could have chosen to love me! I needed you when my father died, but you cast me away! If you had just been the mother I needed, I - I might have....”

“It would have made no difference. You were always a bad piece of work.”

Tears flood up in my eyes. She still has the power to hurt me. “Maybe,” I choke out, “some people turn bad because they have no one to love them.”

Sniffling, I back towards the doorway. “And you won’t succeed, you know. I’m leaving, right now. I’m going far away where the prince can’t find me. And there’s nothing you can do about that.”

Stepmother looks at me, then past me. “Go ahead,” she says. But I get the sense she’s not talking to me.

When I turn to look, something heavy strikes the side of my head. I feel myself falling as the world goes black.