The five chimes of the Bell at the Palace Tower, viewable from the window in her room woke Ella Tremaine up, the sun slowly rising over the horizon to dispel the dark of night. By now, the twenty-three year old was used to these very early awakenings, since she needed all the time she could get if she wanted to have every task she was given complete before the end of each day.
Hauling herself up into a sitting position, the rough covers dropped to reveal a slightly too-thin frame, but one that still supported a pair of hefty breasts (easily in the FF-range), shoulder-length strawberry-blond hair on an oval face with petite nose and well-formed lips.
Her bedroom since the age of fourteen had been this one, a small attic room set in the single tower of the chateau that was the Tremaine household. Sparsely furnished with a small wardrobe, two desks, a chest and her bed, whose covers and pillows she’d made herself out of whatever she’d been able to scavenge and repurpose from the throwaways of her stepsisters.
Sitting up properly now disturbed the sleep of the other inhabitants of the room, three small lizards she kept with her for companionship, by the names of Donald, Mickey, and Daisy.
“Did I wake you?” She asked them, knowing they couldn’t voice an answer to her, though the way they turned to look at her and softly hissed told her that they understood what she said. “I’m so sorry, but you know what they‘re like.” Referring to her ‘family’.
“But I do think we have time enough for a little story.” She addressed the others now in site as she slipped on her simple maid’s outfit. Four small mice and a pair of bluebirds. “Which one should it be though?”
The squeaks from the mice were almost unintelligible, but she got the jist of what they were saying, having spoken to them before. “That one then?” A series of nods confirmed her suspicions as she took a seat. “Very well then.”
As they took their places, she began her story:
“It was ten years ago, the day my father died. And the day that my Stepmother made her true colours known. Cold. Bitter. Visibly jealous of me. And grimly determined to advance her own daughters at all cost. Something she hid from my father very well, he never noticed, not even once.” She paused to let them take it in, even though she had told them this story before. “All the servants in the house were fired, their tasks falling to me. My old bedroom they now use as their Music Room as I was sent here within a year of his Death. I’ve had no good clothes in years, just whatever I can make out of whatever‘s thrown away. Then five years ago, after cleaning out the fireplaces, they came up with the name of Cinderella to call me by.” Ella Tremaine finished off.
They did look dejected as she recited this part of the tale. “Oh, no need to look down, if nothing else it did allow me to meet you all, and for that reason I keep on going.” She rose up and made for the door. “Now I really must start with the chores, otherwise it will be after nightfall before I am finished.” indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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