A mask of innocence *On hold*

A mask of innocence

***Hey guys! i'm starting a new story and i'm super excited about it! i've already written most of it so you don't have to worry about stupid writer's block this time :P This is a retelling of Cinderella, only with a twist. There's not a lot of fairytale fanfiction out there so i decided to give it a try for some variety (: If i can get five votes on this chapter i'll upload the next one! please support this story! if you have any criticism, please tell me because i want to improve. Enough of me babbling, here's the story. Enjoy****

A

 mask

of

innocence

~PROLOGUE~

“But Papa, I don’t want you to leave!” whined eight year-old Cambridge. She clung to her father’s pants, looking up at him with shining eyes.

Robert Lockhart chuckled and swept his daughter up into his arms.

“I know, sweet, but I must go to settle some affairs.  And the sooner I leave, the sooner I get back, remember?”

Cambridge pouted but nodded grudgingly.

Robert kissed his daughter’s cheek before placing her back on the ground. Then he moved to his horse and mounted her.

“Remember, love, I’ll be back before the leaves fall of the trees!”

With that promise, Robert kicked his horse and rode away. Cambridge made a move to run after him but was held back.

“Miss Cambridge, we can’t have any of that running around, alright? What would your father think?”

Peter, Robert’s trusted servant, told her.

Tears shone in her eyes as she watched her father disappear from sight.

“But I want him to come back!” she cried.

“Soon, Cambridge, very soon.”

“He promised,” Cambridge whispered to herself.

……….8 months later………

Cambridge surveyed the garden.  Little flowers were just starting to bud and the leaves on the trees were a vibrant green.

She sighed; the months when the leaves turned and fell off had already passed, turning into a bitterly cold winter. Now spring was starting to poke through with still no word from her papa.

“No need to worry, Miss Cambridge,” Her nurse, Marianne, told her, “Your papa was most likely just held up with important business and is probably on his way home at this very moment.”

“He promised.”

Was all Cambridge would ever reply to those words.

Marianne sighed and was about to say more but was cut off by pounding footsteps.

They sounded urgent.

Peter burst into the garden, out of breath. “Miss Cambridge,” he gasped, “There’s a carriage on the horizon.  Your father’s carriage.” He blurted before she could turn away.