Slippers - A Retelling of Cinderella

Hello all! I'm back. I've had plot bunnies running everywhere, but none seem to be quite ri ght. But this one just came to me, and it begged to be written. Here goes nothing...

Disclaimer: I don't own the original idea for Cinderella.

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"You," I said quietly, peeking up to see his reaction, "were a mistake. One I regret. Simple words I'd said, all in one gush of breath. I picked up my basket and said, "Now can we please go back to our lives?" I stood up completely. "I have some things to take care of." The wood basket rubbed my hands- it was either that or the feeling that I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

I left him where I should have all along- behind me, en route to the river, where some berries grew. I had some thoughts in my head that needed to clear, and that certainly wouldn't happen here. The start of it, I remembered, was about two months ago . . .

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Chapter One - Expectations

"Leila?"

I had been hearing Emi call my name for the last little while. I didn't want to go help serve breakfast to the pigs-not literally, fortunately. I'd never seen them, and this castle was where I'd lived for the past six years! Brushing my tangles of hair out of my face and into an emerald ribbon that was knotted twice tightly, I made a step toward the door. I stepped out and said, "I'm right here, Emi." She got so excited about things like this, because she was one of the servants selected to serve the actual royalty. They (The Official Servant Selection Committee, I presumed) picked the "pretty" ones to do that, a small slap in the face to me. However, I have been on kitchen duty since I came here and bake pies and cakes the likes f which the former pastry chef shed tears for. Aptly named Cookie, she's now the other head cook. I doubt they;d want ti take me out of the kitchen.

Walking down the dim hall, lit only by small lanterns and with no windows in this stretch, I could see why they'd picked Emi. She was lively and kind of sparkly. Even her walk was a half-skip. I couldn't help but smile at how enthused she was, and I realized I really do like my job. I just don't show it as openly as Emi does (but then, who could?).

Emi looked back to me, her soft brown eyes sparkling. "I love this time in the morning. The world is coming alive. Can't you feel it?" She smiled more when we came to the morning light pouring through the first window, the yellowed striped almost blinding.

If anyone were fit to be a storybook princess, it would be Emi.

I rubbed my necklace's charm like it was a genie's lamp, for what reasons I didn't know, though I decided a few wishes wouldn't hurt: I would wish for peace and to be happy. What of the third? I didn't know. I rubbed the charm harder.

We were almost at the kitchens now. Emi picked up a ilver tray and polished it to a shine. I turned back and gave her arm a quick squeeze. "You'll win him over for sure today." The smile she beamed could melt the iciest of hearts, and with a swish of her straight, sleek black hair, she was off.

Truthfully, I was doubting that prince would find anyone, hard-headed as I'd heard he was. A little white lie never hurt anyone too terribly though, did it? I shook my head to myself, swinging open the doors to my second home-the kitchen. A small commotion was taking place by one of the fires, but that was all I could make out before it was all blocked out.

"Well, here now, Leila decided to show! Go make some o' that pie of yours with the berried Lester picked." That was my usual greeting from Cookie. We shared an almost sisterly bond, though we could never be mistaken as them biologically-her skin was many shades darker than my own pale complexion.

"What sort of berry is it?" I asked, pulling out my pie crust and rolling it. I looked up and Cookie was gone. Typical. Back to rolling, I thought. I love my little corner in the kitchen-it's just out of the main stretch and I have easy access to the pantry, which is far larger than it sounds.

Stuffing the berries into my hands from one bowl to another, my thoughts drifted back to Emi. She could get anyone if she could-someone tolerant of how sunny her disposition was-rainbows should beam off of her in the rain. Emi was short for Emeraude, so she'd told me, a princess' name. Too much for a servant.

I covered the crust with another layer, making sure it was smooth, and stuck it over the open fire.

Cookie's hands flew to her hips as she approached me. "Lester is just this thing! HE brought me a honeysuckle he found near the berries as well."

I turned and grinned. "I think I can feel the courtship beginning."

Lester-a general kitchen servant- and Cookie have the cutest form of a romannitic situation that I'd seen-shy glances across the teakettle, strolls in the herb garden, small tokens.

Maybe someday I'd have something like that, I mused. Just someone who'd bring a honeysuckle vine and weave it into a bracelet, just for me.

Cookie's round cheeks were flushed from more than the close range of the fire. I smiled again, and took the pie off (I'd wanted it warmed-not how, certainly not burnt.) And shoved it onto a platter with a doily and fresh-cut daisies.

Right about then, a pink-cheeked Emi came bursting in, looking like she had some news. I turned to her.

"Well?" She smile, took my hands, and cried out loud enough for the entire city to hear a simple sentence.

"The prince is having a ball!"

She started to jump up and down, and having no choice, I began to bounce with her, secretly wondering why she was so happy. Wouldn't we be catering? Seeing her glowing features, I figured they'd have to make an exception.

Besides, what wouldn't that prince like about Emi? She was perfect.

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