"Now, Cinderella, it'll be hard for you to fit in for you first year of high school. We love you, honey, but you know that you're a bit… different, right?" Anastasia asked, smoothing down her young stepsister's hair as she pulled her to her side.

"I know, Stasi, but you'll help me, right?" Cinderella looked up at her role model with big, hopeful blue eyes. She had always loved her stepsisters, ever since they had come into her life when she was eight years old. Growing up, her only friend had been her father. The other children didn't seem to like her too much. They would be friends with her for a little bit and then leave, forgetting about her immediately. She knew she was too shy, too quiet, and just not a very present child. She didn't command attention in the least. When Papa died, she didn't know what she would do. She felt so alone, like no one loved her anymore.

Then Anastasia and Drizella had stepped in. They were just so… bright, and they became the love she was missing. They were so kind, as well. They knew that she wasn't as amazing as they were, being just plain Ella, but they loved her and let her be around them anyways. They were the ones who had given her her nickname, Cinderella. She had been cleaning the chimney one day (in return for the incredible treatment she received for her stepfamily, she was in charge of household chores. It was really the least she could do, really, after all they did for her), when her stepmother had walked in and seen her covered in soot.

"Why, if it isn't our own little Cinderella?" she remarked, pinching her cheek and smiling down. "Stasi, Riz, come here! Look at your little sister!"

"Oh, you've reached your full potential, my dear!" Anastasia had gushed. "That's where you get your name from. Darling, you were born to sweep chimneys and wash dishes. How I do envy you finding your purpose in life this early on!"

Cinderella had smiled, though she had wanted to cry a little bit. She knew her stepfamily loved her and knew her better than anyone, so they must be right, but it hurt a little to know that was what she really was. Nothing more than a maid, never to be anything more. But she was grateful to her stepfamily for helping her realize that before she embarrassed herself. If only she could be one of the princesses she dreamed of, marrying a handsome prince and being so, so, so happy. She sighed. If only…

Anastasia snapped her fingers in her face. "Cindy! See, darling," she frowned, "This is what I'm talking about. This daydreaming is so unhealthy, and people will think you're… well… weird, darling. Please don't do this in front of Charming. You'll embarrass me."

Cindy nodded furiously. "Oh never, Stasi. Never would I ever embarrass you. I know how much you like him."

Charming ducked as he walked into the room where his father and uncle were fencing. "Father!" he scolded as a sword flew over his head.

"What, Char, can't take a little blade, eh?" he grinned cruelly. Charming put his guard up. That smile wasn't good. It usually meant…

"How much did you drink?" Charming demanded as his father waddled over. "He backed away from the man when he started swinging.

"It is not your place to ask me where I'm drinking! I am the king, goddammit! You will respect me!"

"Yes sire," Charming knelt to bow, playing along to avoid harm.

"Now Charming, I have something to speak with you about," his uncle declared, saving him from his father's wrath. Charming felt the relief roll off of his back in waves. He hated when his father got like this.

"Yes, uncle," he said, getting up.

"Come along."

Charming followed behind his uncle, his father still yelling behind them.

"Thank you," Charming fell back into a chair.

"You're welcome, but I really must speak to you about something."

Charming furrowed his brow. "What is it, uncle?"