Cinderella: The Cinder from the Ash

Chapter Seven

There was a shocked silence. Ella cringed back on the bed, but the expected blow never arrived. Stalking over to Ella on heels so high she almost tottered over, the older girl leaned forward until she was nearly spitting in the other girl’s face. “I became an Adler the day your father married Mama. Mama is the aristocrat. Your father was nothing more than a merchant. We elevated you.”

The enormity of what she was doing struck Ella in the chest, making it hard to breathe, but she refused to back down. Enough was enough, and she was sick unto death of never knowing when the next blow would come. “’Elevated me’? How, pray tell? By making me into your servant? By forcing me to look like you? I am done, Evangline! Do you hear me? Done.” Her step-sister began to laugh hysterically. Then, almost as suddenly as the laughter started, it stopped. “Listen to me, you little troll…you will never be done. Never. The only reason you haven’t joined your precious father…” She clapped a palm over her mouth, but the damage was already done.

Ella scooted forward on the bed, forcing Evangline backward. “What do you mean?” Her eyes narrowed. “What happened to my father? What are you refusing to say?”

Evangline bared her teeth. “Your father was a simple man with simple dreams. He was not a fit husband for Mama. His fate was his own fault.”

“What fate, Evangline? Tell me,” Ella demanded.

“You are hardly in a position to make demands, Cinder.” Evangline stared pointedly at Ella’s cloth covered lacerated ankle. “Unless, of course, you are under the mistaken impression your damaged ankle is the worst Esmae has to offer.”

Ella shook her head. Her back remembered the bite of the whip quite well. Celina had put an immediate stop to those punishments, but not out of any real concern for her young step-daughter’s safety. Her primary concern, Ella had learned, was access to her husband’s accounts. Ella’s back had healed, but her little girl’s heart had not.

“What did you three do to my father?” Ella whispered, sinking back on the bed.

Evangline teetered away from her. “We gave him nothing more than he deserved and, if you do not keep your place, we will do the same to you, as well.”

“Evangline, leave. Now. I will speak with you later.” Celina stalked into Ella’s room, grabbed her oldest daughter by the arm, and shoved her out.

Ella shrank back further into the goose feather coverlet.

“There is nothing to fear, Cinder. I am simply here to see how you are.” Celina’s smile was sickly. “Let me see to your ankle.”

“I, no, it is not that bad,” Ella protested. She carefully removed the drying washcloths from her ankle, gritting her teeth as the fibers caught in the wounds.

Her step-mother arched one perfectly penciled in eyebrow. “Prove it. Walk over here.”

Ella slid over to the end of the bed and stared at the floor, gathering her courage.

“You are wasting my time,” Celina snapped. “Either you can walk on it, or you cannot.”

Still staring at the ground, Ella answered, her voice low. “It hurts too much to place any weight on it. I will need some sort of a crutch if I am to walk to the solicitor’s tomorrow.”

“Esmae has a walking stick. I will have her bring it to you when I leave. It will be part of her punishment. She knows the rules of the cat, and her decision to disobey them reflects poorly on all of us.” She narrowed her eyes. “On second thought, I will bring you the walking stick tomorrow. Esmae is still in a mood, and it would not benefit her to look at you again tonight.”

Ella knew the response her step-mother expected. “Thank you, Mama.”

“Do not thank me yet. I do not understand what has come over you lately. You are insolent and argumentative. Unfortunately, I do not have the time to discipline you as you deserve, so instead you will be confined to your room until I determine otherwise. If you leave, I will know and you will be adequately punished.”

“But…Mama, I need food,” Ella protested. “You cannot just let me die.”

Celina crossed her arms. “I know for a fact you have six large carrots hidden beneath your bed. That should sustain you if you ration them.”

“That is half a carrot per day. You cannot mean for me to survive on such a meager meal.” Ella peeled Esmae’s hand-me-down gloves off and held them out. “I will not need these any longer.”

“Oh, yes you will,” Celina corrected her. “You are forbidden from going outside looking like you do. I will not be embarrassed by your parental genes.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “My mother was—was…”

“Your mother is not relevant, and I am not having this conversation with you,” her step-mother replied. “You will stay inside until I tell you, do you understand me?”

“What about my food?” Ella protested once again. “If I become too weak to walk, the solicitor will know something is wrong.”

The half-threat hung in the air for a moment before Celina sighed. “I will have to think on how to address this. Your food is not readily available, and certain…compensations…must be made to the tinker if he is to get you what you need.” She glared at Ella. “Although I am not convinced you are being entirely truthful about the whole matter.”