Cinderella- Fairytale Retold

Chapter XI

Ana was already awake when Ash came in to light the fire the next morning; she was sitting in the chair by her window overlooking the front yard. "Good morning," Ash said, and as she knelt on the cold hearth she felt the weight of the medallion in her pocket, banging gently against her thigh.

"Good morning," Ana said.

"Did you sleep well?" Ash asked.

"Does it matter?" Ana replied.

Ash looked over her shoulder at her stepsister; she was staring out the window with a bitter expression on her face. Ash shrugged. "I was merely asking."

"I'm fine," Ana snapped.

Ash stood up when the fire was lit and turned to face her stepsister. "I gather that you did not dream of who you wished?" she said.

Ana glared at her. "If you are insinuating that I used that ridiculous poem you gave me yesterday to divine for my future husband, you are sorely mistaken. I was simply feeling unwell. Today I am much better and would like you to bring me my breakfast."

Ash looked at her stepsister steadily and said, "It's not surprising it didn't work -you can't see what you don't believe in."

"Get out of my room," Ana said in a cold voice. "I'm not interested in your rustic explanations."

Ash couldn't help it-she laughed at her. When Ana shot her a furious look, Ash put a hand over her mouth and mumbled, "I'm sorry-"

Ana stood up, fists clenched. "Yes, 'rustic,'" she said angrily. "What do you know of anything but the country? Isn't that where those stupid fairy stories come from? I know you still read them-crouching all covered in soot on the hearth because you're too rustic to know how to sit in the parlor. You must still believe that they are real and not merely tall tales for children."

Ash opened her mouth but did not know what to say. She could show her stepsister the medallion in her pocket, but Ana would only think she had stolen it. Her stepsister continued, "You traipse around the house thinking you're too good for us-I know you do. I've seen the way you look at us, the way you look at me. You think I'm a spoiled little brat only looking for a rich man to buy me jewels, but you don't know anything, Ashiyaana. How else are we going to live? How else is my mother ever going to pay off her debts unless I marry well? If your father hadn't left so many debts, we wouldn't have to live like this, with you waiting on us with your clumsy hands and ugly manners."

Ash snapped, "If your mother stopped spending all her money on furs and jewels and new gowns, perhaps you wouldn't be so desperate for a rich husband."

Ana lunged at her and slapped her across the face. Ash recoiled in shock, her hand covering her pink cheek. "How dare you insult my mother," said Ana. "You are nothing more than a low country girl who believes in archaic superstitions. You'll never become more than that, Ashiyaana. Never. Now get out of my room."

Furious, Ash turned and stalked out of her stepsister's room. Ana slammed the door behind her, and the force of it shook the house.

For the rest of that week, Ana took it upon herself to be particularly unpleasant to her. Ash went about her work in silence as Ana upbraided her about her poor cooking skills, the invisible layer of dust on the dining room table, the unevenness of her stitching on their stockings. The constant criticism grated on her nerves, and as soon as she could escape-on an afternoon when Ana and Clara and Lady Isobel went into the City-she fled the house.

She was halfway across the meadow, stomping down the grasses in frustration, when she saw the buck standing at the edge of the trees. He seemed to look at Ash for a long moment, his ears perked forward, and then turned to go back into the Wood. Without thinking, Ash went after him, pulling her cloak more securely around herself. It calmed her to follow him, his delicate hoofprints marking a way out of the maze of her thoughts. By the time she lost the trail it was midmorning, and she had gone farther than she expected. She thought that she was likely near the edge of the King's Forest, where it blurred into the greater Wood. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in the smell of the forest, and perhaps because her eyes were closed, she heard the approaching footsteps more clearly. It was from a very light tread-this person knew how to move quietly in a forest full of fallen twigs and leaves-and when the sound stopped, Ash knew the person had seen her.