Every night I dream the same dream: I see him. He is a stranger with a young face, young like me, but with the distinct signs of growing etched into his features. His hazel eyes are filled with pain. They remind me of my own. The stranger is screaming in my dream, and I can't take it. I listen to his screams but cannot understand his words. I try to reach out to him, to respond with my own voice, but then I wake up, sometimes I'm screaming too. There is no resolution to this dream; no answers hidden in the images and sounds.

Sometimes I think the boy I dream about is really me. Why is he screaming? Because he is alone. Because he needs help. Because his step mother has taken everything away from him—his past, his future, his very dreams.

At least, that's what happened to me. And that's all I know.

It was the third time I slipped upon the stone steps that morning, and this time I could feel pain began to bloom in my knee where the two other bruises throbbed. The sudsy water in the bucket spilled down the steps, and I had reached over to grab it and lost my footing, hitting the edge of the step with my knees and shins. I clenched my teeth together to keep from yelling out in pain. If I woke up my step sisters or mother at this hour, their wrath would follow me for the remainder of the day. Every day was a decent day that I was able to avoid them, chores or no chores.

Scrubbing the tower stairs was only my first task for the day, followed by feeding the chickens and horses, preparing breakfast, running our produce stand at the market, picking up fabric from the seamstress, preparing dinner, and then cleaning out the fireplace. Lorna, my step-mother, said that my chores allowed me to be safe; if there were no chores to do, what would she need me for? Nothing. She would simply have to get rid of me if I were of no use. And I would never see the trust my father left me when he died.

"You are an orphan now, Mary," Lorna told me when he passed. "Do you know what that means?"

I couldn't respond for the tears constricting my throat as I held my father's hand in mine, all life gone from his eyes.

"It means you are alone in the world," she continued without waiting for an answer. "This house and all the things in it now belong to me. If you want to stay here, you will take on our servant's role until you come of age to inherit your father's trust."

I was twelve then; only eight years to go. And since then, for the past five years I have woken up before dawn to begin my daily round of chores while Lorna and her two daughters run my father's household.

I could see the first beams of sunlight through the bedroom window in the tower—that's where I slept. My old room was given to Didi and Anna—not them, but all of their things like, like clothes, jewelry, chests of knick knacks and things they never paid attention to. I stealthily ascended the stairs to retrieve a towel to dry off the steps. I smiled in spite of the pain in my knee—the new birds in the tree next to my window were signing again. And just then, the bells from the King's castle began to sound off, summoning the village to rise to the occasion of the day. I made my way silently down to the stable with buckets of food hanging from my arms.

The sleepy village began to come to life; I could hear the sounds of the bustle over the gates. As I fed the old horse his breakfast I contemplated my tasks for the day—maybe, just maybe if I finished them early and there was still an hour or so left before sunset, I could go to the library and return the book I had just finished. The story had been frightening, and I couldn't take my eyes off each page until I finished it. Books were one of the only things that helped me forget about my life—the chores, the tower, the servitude. It wasn't born into this life, but I inherited it nonetheless.

Three more years, I reminded myself. Three more years and I will receive my father's inheritance and title. I will take the money and leave—walk, even; take the road to the sea and never look back.

"Soon," I whispered out loud. My thoughts were promptly interrupted by the shrill echoes of the servant's bell. Lorna's breakfast was already late.

I rushed into the kitchen and threw eggs onto the skillet over the fire. Old Mia, the cook who served my father and mother since they were first married, still worked in the household, now under Lorna's management. She was the only person in the world who loved me.

"Good morning," she sighed, resting her withered arms upon the edge of the sink. She had already lain out the day's ingredients upon the prep table.

"Lorna's up early," I noted with dismay, pushing the eggs around the skillet with a wooden spoon.

"She is expecting a guest tonight," Old Mia replied. "Someone by the name of Lord Terrowin, I believe?"

I shrugged, plopping the eggs onto a platter beside some sliced bread and butter. 'Never heard of him. This would be—what, her ninth suitor this year? Have they all run for the hills?"

Old Mia laughed knowingly. "My girl, watch your tongue! Even in here with me. You do not need an ounce more abuse then she's already dealing you."

I sighed and layered Lorna's and my step-sisters' breakfast platters on my arms. "Nine is a lot," I replied coolly. "Just making an observation."

Old Mia winked as I made my way out into the dining hall which was empty. Lorna and my step-sisters only eat breakfast in their beds. Luckily, I had gotten the skill of climbing the stairs with trays full of hot food down to an art form. I only dropped them once before, when I saw a mouse scurry past me down the stairs.

"What took you so long?" Lorna asked as I sat her platter onto her bed. Her icy blue eyes were pale in the morning light.

"My apologies," I said quickly, "I did not know you were to be preparing for a guest today."

Her lips curled into a peculiar smirk as she brought her tea up to her nose for a whiff. "He is a very important guest. You will need to prepare the dining room by polishing the table and floor as well as washing the tapestries."

I clenched my teeth together to prevent my jaw from falling to the floor. Polish the floor and wash the tapestries? That would probably take all day, on top of my other chores.

"Did I say something to upset you?" she asked testily.

I shook my head, avoiding eye contact with her as I collected her dirty laundry from the basket. "I will take care of it."

"Yes, you will," she said calmly. I could hear the smirk in her voice. "Unless of course, you had other plans? What were they?"

"No plans," I said quietly.

She chuckled softly. "Of course not. Run along now, you have much to do today."

I dropped off the remaining breakfast platters in my step-sisters' room. They were still sleeping- Anna and Didi never woke up before noon. And then they did nothing all day.

"I have to go," I said hurriedly to Old Mia, sliding the dirty dishes into the sink, "Lorna's given me all of this work to do today because of her guest. I need to get to the seamstress and then the market-"

"I'll go to the market," Old Mia interrupted, placing her hand on my arm. "You'll have time to do everything else."

I hugged her tightly. "Thanks so much," I whispered. "I owe you. See you soon!"

I slipped into my shoes, grabbed my bag, and ran out of the house. The cobblestoned path that led from the front door to the front gate was becoming overgrown with weeds, I noted to myself. Maybe I could weed it real quick after going to the library, if I still had time to do that—

Oof!

Someone had been standing at the gate when I opened it and rushed out; I promptly whacked into them with a startled yelp. Strong hands steadied me; I looked up into the hard face of none other than one of the King's guards, shiny in his silver cape. A brim-hatted messenger stood beside him, holding a scroll.

"I'm sorry," I gasped. "I didn't see you-"

"We're looking for Lady Mary. Is this her household? Are you her servant?" the messenger asked.

I stared at him blankly. "What?"

The messenger and cloaked guard exchanged wary glances.

"Lady Mary," he repeated. "Does she live here? This is a notice from the King." The messenger brandished a sealed scroll in his grasp.

"I'm Mary," I said. "But the lady of this household is Lorna."

The messenger sighed. "The scroll is addressed to Lady Mary. If that is your name and you live here, then this is yours." He passed it into my hands and the pair mounted two waiting horses on the street and trotted away, leaving me standing there with the scroll in my hand.

Snapping into action, I hastily closed the gate and took off down the street. I waited until I got to the seamstress's store before opening the letter. Standing in the morning sunlight outside of the shop, I broke the seal and unraveled the paper. It was an invitation.

Addressing Lady Mary, first born daughter of Sir Thomas North,

The King welcomes you to his home in honor of his first born son, the Prince Stefan's eighteenth birthday. It is upon this occasion that Stefan will be formally introduced to the eligible ladies of this kingdom, girls whose names were submitted at birth for this opportunity. Dress in your finest before the King and Prince and please arrange transportation to and from the palace.

Best wishes,

King Peter

I folded the invitation as small as I could and dropped it into my bag and stared at the ground for a long moment.

Me, a lady? Invited to meet the prince? How could it be? There had to be some mistake—Lorna would find out. I would be punished.

I paid the seamstress for Didi and Anna's new dresses in a daze, and returned home to hang them up for Lorna's inspection. Then, I waited for Old Mia to return from the market before pulling her into the stable, showing her the letter.

"How could this be?" I whispered.

She read it carefully and nodded. "There is no mistake this is for you. Your mother and father put your name on that list the day you were born. I was there when they did it. You have been destined to meet the prince all of your life."

My stomach turned uneasily in disbelief and awe. "What do I do?"

"You go of course!" she said a little too loudly.

"Ssshh!" I urged her. "Lorna would never allow it."

Old Mia shrugged. "Then she can't know. But she can't stop you from going—this is a summons from the King himself!"

"It's tomorrow night," I said in disbelief. "I don't know how I could pull it off—and I have nothing to wear to the palace! I live in servant's clothes, because I am a servant."

Old Mia gently lifted my chin so our eyes met. "You were born a Lady, and still are. Lorna has no authority to take away your title. It is your right to go to the ball. And you are wrong—you have a dress. Your mother left you her wedding gown, remember? It is stored away in a box in the attic."

My heart skipped a beat. I had completely forgotten about that dress—the one Lorna had somehow never gotten her hands on. It was mine. Long, silvery, and small like my mother. Like me.

"I have to think," I said. "Lorna can't know about this."

Old Mia nodded. "Don't worry about her. Today I will go up into the attic and find the dress, and I will put it in your room. Keep it hidden and I will take care of the rest."

Just then, the servant bell rang out shrilly from the house.

"That'll be Madame wondering why the tapestries haven't been washed yet," I said with a groan. "This Lord Terrowin must be quite an honored guest."

"He's come just in time," said Old Mia. "He will no doubt provide the perfect distraction. Now go -and don't forget it: you are a Lady. Chores or no chores."

So I got to work, basking in my new dreams. Would I really be going to the palace the following night? Meeting the prince, as if I had a chance to actually be someone? And I knew this was all real—my dreams never changed. I dreamed of the stranger; the boy who screams out loud the way I scream inside. No, this was real. And simply too good to be true.

Hello readers. Many of you probably read the first version of this story-where Cinderella becomes Belle and our Prince Charming becomes the Beast. This is a very similar story, but rewritten and polished version of the old one. Some events and things may change, but overall it is written for the purpose of being a better version of the old one that was pretty popular. Please leave feedback if you have thoughts about the story.