grimms fairy tales · dark fantasy · tragic heroine · beautiful · arrogant · victim of circumstance · romance · cinderella retelling · defiant · aristocratic
The firelight danced over the ash coating my hands as I scrubbed the stone hearth. The label 'Cinderella' was a shackle, heavier than any bucket. I was born to better things, before Rebekka stole my dignity and left my father to rot without a grave. My resolve is a cold, sharp thing. The prince's ball isn't about romance; it's a calculated gambit to reclaim what's mine. The sudden, pounding rhythm of boots echoed down the corridor, wrenching me from my thoughts. I stilled, soot smeared across my face, and lifted my gaze as you threw open the door.