Cinderella with a Twist

A/N: I do not own Cinderella. However, this is my story. Please do not steal it.

We have all read the classic tale that is Cinderella, where the young servant attends a royal ball, loses her shoe and marries the Prince. It is a well-known and well-worn tale, one most children love.... But, what if Cinderella was a boy?

The peaceful silence that surrounded the large manor house was shattered by an ear-piercing yell.

'Cinderel! Get over here right now!'

In the lush garden a blond head of hair jerked up from the bush he was pruning, the gardening tools being quickly returned to the basket on the grass. The lean male made his way quickly across the grounds, brushing dirt from his hands as he went. 

His destination was the large drawing room of the manor, where his step-mother would be awaiting his arrival.

'Cinderel! I said now!' The second shout caused the young man to speed up, gardening gloves being dropped onto the table at the door as he rushed past. His step-mother was clearly mad about something.

'Yes step-mother?' he asked quietly, stepping through the door. A strand of hair fell in front of his eye and he winced, he would be in for a lecture of note. His step-mother hated his hair. The woman in the room stalked forward, stopping before she was within an arms-length. There was a clear disgust in her eyes as she glared at him.

'Have you cleaned the windows?' she demanded. He nodded, spurring her on to continue her rant. 'Polished the silverware? Swept the floors? Made the beds? Dusted the tables? Done the ironing? Washed the dishes? Organised the gardens?'

He had been doing well, having completed each task his step-mother listed until the last, where he tried to explain his reasoning. 'I apologise, step-mother, I was cutting the bushes when you called.'

His step-mother turned to look at the grounds, the basket of gardening tools was easily seen from the drawing room window. His step-mother could not disprove his explanation and she grunted in annoyance.

'Finish with the garden and then go to the market. We're running out of wine.'

Cinderel watched as the woman left the room before hurrying back out to the gardens. 'Out of wine? I bought wine just yesterday,' he muttered, pulling the gardening gloves over his hands. The bushes were trimmed with practiced precision as twigs and leaves dropped to the ground. The gardening was the only chore he really enjoyed, the gardens being one of the few places his step-family would avoid was just a bonus.

The last of the gardening was completed too quickly for his liking, and he returned the tools to the shed with reluctance. Contrary to the gardening, shopping was something Cinderel had no interest in whatsoever. It was just a task that took too much time – time he barely had in the first place.

\-|-/

It was with slight embarrassment, being clad in rags would never get easier, that 'El walked through the streets, a bag hanging from his arm. Along with the requested wine he had picked up an assortment of sickly-sweet sweets for his step-sisters and a collection of chocolate for himself. It had been one of the rare times when there was just enough money left for him.
While shopping was decidedly close to the bottom of his list of things he enjoyed, walking through the markets was much higher up. 

The colourful stalls and cheerful atmosphere were a far cry from the soft creams that decorated the manor and the hesitant air that permeated its walls. Compared to the markets, even his garden was on a completely different scale.

With his attention focused on the bright banners 'El almost walked into someone. That this someone was wearing the official guards uniform made this ten-times more serious than it would have been, had he walked into another shopper.