***this is my third ella enchanted fic! the first one (Ella's Secret) was a real bomb. the second (Where Would I Hide Without the Mask?) was awesome. this one will hopefully be either somewhere in between or better than Where Would I Hid Without the Mask (although I dont think I can do much better than that). this story overlaps with that story, too, if you read it. enjoy!***
I set down the book I was reading and looked out the window at the lovely day outside. It was a tattered book, one I found on the street, but it was written recently. It was about a servant falling in love with a prince and losing a slipper at a ball or something like that. I loved those kinds of books.
"Zoi!" Mildred harshly called up into the attic. "Get down here! We need breakfast!"
I pushed myself off my small bed and bumped my head on the ceiling. "Ouch!" I muttered, rubbing my head tenderly.
"Hurry, child!" Mildred yelled again. "We're hungry!"
"Coming!" I hollered back, and I hopped down the stairs. I got to the bottom to see four angry faces staring at me.
Mildred was sitting at a chair at the table, but when I entered, she rose. It didn't make much difference anyway, seeing as she was so short and squatty. She had dirty blond hair that was always everywhere about her head, a tangled mess. Her murky brown eyes were quite often in slits, glaring at me. She was pouting at the moment. "Zoi, you don't want my three darlings to go hungry, do you?"
I looked around. Gracie, the twelve-year-old replica of her mother, was standing by the sink, gazing out the window. Mary and Betsy, her indentical twin sisters who had brown curly hair and dark green, were sitting on the floor playing a hand game. They were ten years old.
"I'm sorry, but I slept late," I said, twirling my pinky nervously around my curly red hair.
Gracie scoffed and turned from the window. "Slept late?" she scolded. "You were probably up reading for hours before mother called you."
Mildred pursed her lips. "When I took you in fourteen years ago, I never thought you would be this much trouble. My sister was dying and it was her wish that I raise you as my own." I mouthed these words as she said them, having heard them numerous times before. "Listen to me, child! I have raised you as my own as best as I could," she said proudly.
"You have not!" I said. "You make me work, and your little brats do nothing to help!"
She slapped me. "I have raised you as my daughter, I just gave you a little more discipline than Gracie, Mary, and Betsy, that's all. Understood?"
I nodded curtly, then strode across the kitchen and began prepare some porridge. Gracie was laughing evilly at me as I did so.
Fourteen years ago, my mother died of childbirth, and my father was executed for treason to the kingdom. For that, Mildred and her kin have hated King Char and Queen Ella. I do to, because if they hadn't killed him, I wouldn't be living with Mildred. My mother gave me to Mildred and begged her to keep me.
I have suffered fourteen years of Mildred's beating and commands, twelve years of Gracie's tauntings and scoldings, ten years of Betsy and Mary's annoyances and teasings. All this because of the wretched king and queen and their brat children: Sampson, Charles, and Summer.
I have never met the king and queen, although I have seen Samson and Charles in the streets when I was with Mildred. Mildred threw a rotten apple at them, and they laughed it off, forgiving her. How DARE they forgive her, when they should have been furious. Mildred has thrown rotten things at them countless times, though she did it secretly most times. I wanted to, but she wouldn't let me.
Only part of the royalty I have met. Char's little brother, Leo, and his wife, Mable. They were also in the streets, but it was when I was alone. I approached them, and they stared at me horribly.
"My dear child," Princess Mable had muttered, still staring at my face.
"Is it?" Prince Leo had whispered, coming inches away from me.
"It must be, Leo," Mable had replied. They were still staring at me.
I curtsied. "Your highnesses," I had said, and hurried on. What strange behavior. Did all royalty act that way?
My first and only encounter with royalty was a bad experience. Of course, everything was a bad experience for me. A stable boy down the road had once seeked to sourt me, but Mildred had shooed him away, saying that I was not worth the effort. What horrible manners! Never since then have I been interested in boys, although I should be at my age. I have sworn them off.
But I would soon find that a certain boy was worth breaking my oath.
*****
eh.
just a taster fer ya, there. the second chappie gets good, mark my words. ::giddy-evil laugh:: woah, holy zach.
okay well... uhm... have a good day and please review.
I set down the book I was reading and looked out the window at the lovely day outside. It was a tattered book, one I found on the street, but it was written recently. It was about a servant falling in love with a prince and losing a slipper at a ball or something like that. I loved those kinds of books.
"Zoi!" Mildred harshly called up into the attic. "Get down here! We need breakfast!"
I pushed myself off my small bed and bumped my head on the ceiling. "Ouch!" I muttered, rubbing my head tenderly.
"Hurry, child!" Mildred yelled again. "We're hungry!"
"Coming!" I hollered back, and I hopped down the stairs. I got to the bottom to see four angry faces staring at me.
Mildred was sitting at a chair at the table, but when I entered, she rose. It didn't make much difference anyway, seeing as she was so short and squatty. She had dirty blond hair that was always everywhere about her head, a tangled mess. Her murky brown eyes were quite often in slits, glaring at me. She was pouting at the moment. "Zoi, you don't want my three darlings to go hungry, do you?"
I looked around. Gracie, the twelve-year-old replica of her mother, was standing by the sink, gazing out the window. Mary and Betsy, her indentical twin sisters who had brown curly hair and dark green, were sitting on the floor playing a hand game. They were ten years old.
"I'm sorry, but I slept late," I said, twirling my pinky nervously around my curly red hair.
Gracie scoffed and turned from the window. "Slept late?" she scolded. "You were probably up reading for hours before mother called you."
Mildred pursed her lips. "When I took you in fourteen years ago, I never thought you would be this much trouble. My sister was dying and it was her wish that I raise you as my own." I mouthed these words as she said them, having heard them numerous times before. "Listen to me, child! I have raised you as my own as best as I could," she said proudly.
"You have not!" I said. "You make me work, and your little brats do nothing to help!"
She slapped me. "I have raised you as my daughter, I just gave you a little more discipline than Gracie, Mary, and Betsy, that's all. Understood?"
I nodded curtly, then strode across the kitchen and began prepare some porridge. Gracie was laughing evilly at me as I did so.
Fourteen years ago, my mother died of childbirth, and my father was executed for treason to the kingdom. For that, Mildred and her kin have hated King Char and Queen Ella. I do to, because if they hadn't killed him, I wouldn't be living with Mildred. My mother gave me to Mildred and begged her to keep me.
I have suffered fourteen years of Mildred's beating and commands, twelve years of Gracie's tauntings and scoldings, ten years of Betsy and Mary's annoyances and teasings. All this because of the wretched king and queen and their brat children: Sampson, Charles, and Summer.
I have never met the king and queen, although I have seen Samson and Charles in the streets when I was with Mildred. Mildred threw a rotten apple at them, and they laughed it off, forgiving her. How DARE they forgive her, when they should have been furious. Mildred has thrown rotten things at them countless times, though she did it secretly most times. I wanted to, but she wouldn't let me.
Only part of the royalty I have met. Char's little brother, Leo, and his wife, Mable. They were also in the streets, but it was when I was alone. I approached them, and they stared at me horribly.
"My dear child," Princess Mable had muttered, still staring at my face.
"Is it?" Prince Leo had whispered, coming inches away from me.
"It must be, Leo," Mable had replied. They were still staring at me.
I curtsied. "Your highnesses," I had said, and hurried on. What strange behavior. Did all royalty act that way?
My first and only encounter with royalty was a bad experience. Of course, everything was a bad experience for me. A stable boy down the road had once seeked to sourt me, but Mildred had shooed him away, saying that I was not worth the effort. What horrible manners! Never since then have I been interested in boys, although I should be at my age. I have sworn them off.
But I would soon find that a certain boy was worth breaking my oath.
*****
eh.
just a taster fer ya, there. the second chappie gets good, mark my words. ::giddy-evil laugh:: woah, holy zach.
okay well... uhm... have a good day and please review.