ELEVEN
Four Years Later
Toulouse, France
Fate has often been considered a tricky thing. While mostly true, I like to think of it having a twisted sense of humor. Because, in a way, we are all Fate's personal playthings. One moment, you are being treated like the most terrible of people. The next, you are royalty, accompanied with glittering jewels and luxurious riches.
While there wasn't a throne, or tiara that glittered from being so extravagant, Delorés had a small bakery. She had her six year old daughters. And, she had something that she had never had the pleasure of experiencing: freedom. Complete and utter freedom.
The 24 year old heard a small bell ring as the door opened. She looked up, seeing a handsome man at the door. He was tall, about six foot tall. He had shoulder length blonde hair, majestically falling down in waves. He had sparkling ocean blue eyes, shining brightly on his peach toned skin. He had a slight stubble, outlining the laugh lines around his mouth. His suit was made out of the finest of the materials, telling you of his well groomed nature.
"I heard that this is the finest bakery in Toulouse." His baritone voice was a velvety paradise, but Delorés still had negative opinions about men.
"Well I am glad that people think that sir." Her smile was strained, wiping the flour off on her apron. "Are you ordering anything special today, Sir?"
The man chuckled. "Yes, I would like to have a birthday cake for my daughter." She looked up. "How old is she?" She asked as she got out her recipe for the special cake she did for birthdays. "She's turning five."
Delorés hummed in acknowledgement as she started to get the ingredients out. "Lovely, I have two daughters about a year older than her." The man obliged himself to sit down at a table for customers. "Well maybe I can introduce my lovely Cinderella to your daughters? She has trouble making friends, you see."
Delorés nodded, not paying attention. She had no care for men. And, she would rather not go near anybody at the moment. Her life was too perfect to ruin at the moment.
The man frowned, standing up. He leaned on the counter and just admired the beauty in front of him. "I daresay you are the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of encountering, no?" Delorés mixed the batter with a wooden spoon. "Is that so?"
She gasped in shock as the man grabbed her stray hand gently, placing a delicate kiss onto it. "My name is Maxmillien Tremaine, the surgeon of Toulouse." Ah, so that explained his wealthy appearance, Delorés silently mused.
The woman nodded curtly. "Delorés Bonnefoy." She had changed her last name to her mother's maiden name after she had moved to Toulouse. She and her girls both had no connection to the monster once wedded to her.
"A beautiful name suited for a beautiful woman, no?" He smiled charmingly and let go of her hand. Little did either of them know, both of their lives were going to change negatively after this fateful moment.
Six Months Later
"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Tremaine. You may kiss the bride." Max smiled charmingly and kissed her like she was the most delicate human on the Earth. Drizella and Anastasia watched them with a suspicious gaze, holding onto the other's hand.
On the left of both of them, a small girl holding a bouquet of violets stood. Her bright blue eyes shined brightly on her timorous face, blonde hair having daisies inside of it. She looked up at her father and smiled, holding his stray hand insecurely. The gaze of her now stepmother setting her in a state of unease.
If she makes her Daddy happy, how bad can she be?