The Stories Fairy-Tales Don't Tell

Ella

A rich man's wife became sick, and when she felt that her end was drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and said, "Dear child, remain pious and good, and then our dear God will always protect you, and I will look down on you from heaven and be near you." With this she closed her eyes and died.
But her child did not remain pious and good, despite how she tried, for she was wild at heart, and her soul longed to be free.

"Get up, Cinderella. Comb our hair for us. Brush our shoes and fasten our buckles. We are going to the festival at the king's castle." Ella woke from her bed by the hearth with a groan, scowling at her stepsister. Another sharp kick brought her to her feet and she trailed after her sisters dutifully.
"He's looking for a bride, you know." The eldest smirked at Ella. "You should be glad you're not going, you are an embarrassment to the family."
"Fetch my dress, wench."  Ella's fingers tightened in the girl's hair and she strode from the room, ignoring their cruel voices. She would go if she wanted. Her house wasn't her prison.

"Mother, could I-" Ella hated how weak she sounded. It made her want to punch something.
"Oh, be silent, Cinderella, I cannot stand your whining." Her step mother's face was turned towards the fire, as if she could not bear to even look at her pitiful step child.
"Just one night at the ball, and I will stay out of the way and not cause any bother." The silence stretched thin, and Ella could see the mouth of her stepmother curl up in a smile.
"Pass me the lentils." She obeyed, carefully keeping any emotion from her face. But her hopes were dashed as she watched a slender hand reach out and scatter the lentils in the embers of the dying fire. "If you can pick them all out within an hour, you can go. But don't expect me to clothe you, and don't call yourself my daughter." Ella's lips thinned. "Wipe that insolent look off your face while you're at it."
Cursing her step mother's name, she dropped to her knees by the fireplace and picked out the lentils one-by-one, careful not to burn her fingers. Minutes ticked by under her stepmother's wrathful gaze, until they heard the town's clock chiming and she laughed. "Half your time gone, Cinderella. And you still have nothing to wear." She stood and swept from the room, leaving Ella kneeling in the ashes, face burning red and angry. There was nothing she could do but crouch in the hearth as her mother called to her stepsisters and they descended the stairs, resplendent in shining jewels and rich cloth. None bothered to acknowledge her, and Ella couldn't help but be glad, as she thought she might scream if she were spoken to.

The moment they were gone Ella kicked ashes over the lentils and paced the room. I am going to go. She told herself. I will not be pushed around any longer. Her heart beat faster as she marched up the stairs and took out a handful of gold coins from underneath her stepmother's bed and left the house.
Night was fast-falling, and Ella was glad she lived so close to the castle, glad the streets were so quiet. It was amusing to think of the scandal she might have caused, had anyone chanced to look out their windows to see a rich young girl running alone in the dark.

It seemed as though all eyes turned to her as she stepped into the ballroom. No one here knows you're little better than a slave, she told herself. See? They're looking away. You're fine.
She couldn't help but flinch when the prince strode across the room towards her, took her hands in his and asked her to dance, his blue eyes wide and somewhat glazed as he stared at her. And her discomfort only grew as he took the next dance and the next, seemingly unaware of the angry eyes of almost every other woman in the room. Ella would gladly have swapped places with any of them.
"I am sorry." She said, as the clock struck ten. "But I am tired. Would you mind if we rested a moment?"
The prince smiled at her, and she could have sworn a lady beside him swooned. "Of course."
The moment he looked away Ella fled, pushing past people until she got to a hall, out of the dancers' sight. When she looked up, she noticed that there was a man looking at her. No... A woman. A woman in a man's clothes, staring down at her with concern.
"Are you alright?" She lifted an eyebrow, and Ella felt her face heat up.
"I- yes. I'm sorry, I just need a moment." She stared at the wall because she thought she might do something she would regret if she looked at the woman's face.
"I'm Esther." She stuck out her hand, and Ella struggled to keep a stupid grin from her face.
"Cin- I mean, Ella. My name is Ella." They shook, and she felt as though everything might actually be okay.
Minutes turned into hours as they talked, and the night grew deeper outside, unnoticed. She was hanging onto Esther's every word like a lifeline, and somehow they ended up sitting on the floor, heads close, almost touching. Every single part of her was focused on the other woman, and so she didn't notice someone was behind her until Esther looked up and cursed, dragging Ella to her feet. She spun around and saw Prince Charming turning towards them, outrage clear on his face. In that moment all Ella could think of was how Esther was still holding her hand, and how nice and warm and smooth it felt.
And then they were running, down the hall and out the back door, and Esther's hand had cupped her cheek for a moment before she disappeared into the night, and it was all Ella could do to stumble back into a door and lock it behind her.
She fell to her knees, barely registering the fact that she was kneeling in a pigeon coop and ruining her dress, unable to stop reliving the moment Esther's bare hand had brushed over her skin.
But voices from behind woke her from her stupor and she hurried through the coop and climbed out the window, cursing the amount of fabric in the dress.
She ran the whole way home and burned her fine clothes in the fire. Ella lay by the cooling embers, unanswerable questions keeping her from sleep until the sky began to lighten.