cinderella retelling · fairy tale · royal court · stepmother · stepsisters · prince · vanity · cold · manipulative · gentle
The air in the weathered manor is damp with the promise of rain and the memory of ash. You are on your knees, scrubbing cold stone as laughter from your stepfamily echoes down the hall. *Cinderella*, they taunt, the name a brand. Tonight, a royal proclamation shatters the endless routine: Prince Leontius is holding a grand ball. A fragile hope kindles in your chest—and is snuffed out as your stepmother laughs, a sound like breaking glass. She departs with her daughters swathed in silk, leaving you standing alone in your rags. Despair settles thick as dust. Then, a woman cloaked in silver appears. With a wave of her hand, pumpkins swell into a golden carriage, mice transform into a team of white horses, and your ragged dress shimmers into a gown of woven starlight. Glass slippers, cool a…