A/N: This tis my retelling of Cinderella. Duh, you know that, you read the summary. -smacks self on forehead- Anyway, I know there's tons of Cinderella retellings out there, but mine is different. Truly, it is. But you gotta read it to find out how. :-P It's rated for some curse words and a tiny rape scene, although I don't go into any details.

It's finished (woow) and undergoing a Massive Rewrite…so, yeah. Reviews are much appreciated, o course, and so're emails. I don't bite, much. And I actually updated the Prologue. Yay. -does a little dance-

The cobblestone street was dark; the sun had set long ago, and the moon was little more than a crescent sliver in the sky, casting little light down upon the citizens of the city below. Not that there were many people out and about on the streets this late at night; those few that walked about were most certainly fools, as they were guaranteed to be the instant target of any number of thieves, rapists, or other dangerous people that wandered the streets of the city at night. Those that were not fools were most likely unfortunate enough to not have a choice; or, even more rarely, they could be dangerous enough themselves that they need not worry about the scum of the street.

The tall, elegant, beautiful woman strolling confidently down the streets of the city must have been one of the three. She was far too well dressed to have no home but the street, and she certainly didn't have the look of a fool. It was almost certain she was the third. Not a single soul dared to touch her in her confident stroll.

The place she walked to so confidently looked no different from any of the other wooden carts liberally decorating both sides of the street. The Summer Faire in the capital of Valava attracted many such merchants; there was nothing about the wagon the woman headed to that suggested it was any different than its many cousins.

Inside the cart, the merchant Takra counted the day's earnings, a frown creasing his round, wrinkled face. The pile of coins was far too small, and without a single glint among the copper to hint of silver or even gold. It was enough for the two of them to survive on for perhaps a week, but if their situation didn't improve soon...

The old man's depression was eased none by the knowledge that he had no other soul to blame but himself. If he hadn't grown so addicted to his card games, if he hadn't gambled all his money away until he was so deeply in debt there was no end in sight...

The knock on the door of the wagon interrupted his thoughts abruptly. Pushing his chair back and rising, he scurried to the door at once; any visitor was a potential customer, no matter how late at night they might come.

The woman outside gave him a cool, humorless smile, one that didn't reach her eyes. "Greetings, merchant," she purred silkily. "I have a business deal to discuss with you. If I may come in?"

In the short time during which she had been talking, he had looked her over and made a hasty assessment, coming up with the conclusion that she was very rich. Clothes such as the ones she wore didn't come cheap, and she looked as though she was used to far better. Diamond earrings caught the light and glittered as though to even further emphasize her wealth, and a ruby pendant hung from her neck. Nodding, he stepped back from the door, allowing her inside his humble abode.

She ducked under the door gingerly, glancing about and barely managing to hide her automatic reaction--one of disgust. The interior of the wagon was even smaller than the exterior led one to believe, and it was quite sparsely furnished; the only furniture in this main room was a spindly three-legged stool and a short table, upon which Takra had been counting his earnings. The woman sank into the stool without even asking, leaving Takra to sit upon the floor with a barely suppressed reaction of annoyance.

"I believe you have a daughter," she said without preamble, glancing towards the back of the wagon, where the ten-year-old girl was sleeping peacefully in her small bed.

"Yes, I do," he said warily. "Why?"

"You see, my daughters and I are in need of a maid," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "I am willing to offer a great deal of money for your daughter's services, and I can assure you she will be very well-treated. Naturally, she will be able to visit you at any time she wishes."

"Ma'am, my daughter is only ten years old," he protested. "She has no idea how to work as a maid."

"I am very well aware of that fact, merchant, and I am willing to train her myself. Perhaps this will help change your mind." Producing a blue velvet purse from somewhere, she set it down gracefully upon the table, the coins inside chinking at the soft impact. Despite his misgivings, his eyes followed it hungrily; the purse alone was worth a small fortune. "I trust this will be enough?"

Licking his lips nervously, he stood, crossing to the table and raising the purse. He fumbled with the golden clasp a moment, but managed to get it open, and was reduced for a moment to nothing but standing and gaping.

The purse was filled quite literally to the brim--with gold. It was more money than he had ever seen in his life, even before he had developed a gambling problem.

He closed his mouth and looked back at the woman, not having put the purse back down yet. "She'll be well-treated?"

"Indeed." She watched him with the tiniest of smiles upon her lips, as if she knew he was thinking quite seriously about accepting her offer.

"And I can visit her whenever I want?"

"Most certainly. Far be it from me to separate a child from her father."

He hesitated for a moment, but then glanced back down at the purse again. The sight of the fortune in gold decided him. Looking back up towards the woman, he nodded curtly. "Alright."