Author's Notes: OK i just wrote this and i hate doing intros and stuff so bear with me. there will be more about her sister in the next chapter, that is if people think i should continue, we shall see.

so really i hope you enjoy and i dont own they story cinderella which is what this will be based off.

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Sisters, that is what people call us, I suppose. In reality we couldn't be more different. True we have the same mother, the Dutchess of Datson. And we had the same father The Late Duke of Datson. But that is about where the similarities end.

I remember when it all really started, when my father died. I had always been his favourite. To explain that, he had wanted a son but due to un-foreseen complications my mother was unable to have any more children so all he had was Melanie, my sister and me Christine or Chris as my dad always called me. I suppose I used to be a bit of a tomboy. Sword fighting and horse riding being my favourite things to do with my dad, while my mother and sister did girly things.

I guess my sister was jealous or something although she had mum there is no love, like a fathers. So my sister and I never got on, but more about that later.

True my life was far from perfect, but my father and I were happy. That is probably one of the last times I was so happy.

To look at my life now, it is so different. I am by right the older sister so the title should be passed to me, but that was taken away from me when my father died and I was turned in to my sister's maid or servant if you will. Let me take you back to the days after my father's death.

It was a rainy day; it seems fitting looking back a terrible day to bury my dad who I wish was still here. I was standing next to my mum and sister. My sister was clinging tightly to my mum neither of them were crying unlike my 14 year old self.

There were over 70 people at the funeral; my dad was a well respected man, by all people even the King, Queen and Prince who had all come, to give my family their condolences.

The casket was lowered in to the ground and I walked forward and dropped some flowered on to it. I sat down in front of the ground not caring about my dress that my mother had made me wear. I could have stayed there grieving forever over my lost father, my lost best friend.

"Come, Christine" my mother's voice was as cold as ice I didn't answer I really hadn't said much at all in the past few days since my fathers death. I didn't want to go. My mother came up and put her hand on my shoulder to anyone looking on it would of seemed like she was comforting me, but her nails were digging in to my shoulder. She pulled me up and led me away.

I suppose that is when I noticed the change. I really wasn't close to my mother but she was never mean to me. But after my father died she changed. Within two week after the funeral I was a maid to my sister and servant around the house. No longer could I horse ride or sword fight nor do what I wanted all day long. I had to do chores; so for everyone a typical day for me: I wake up at dawn and tended to the horses then help prepare breakfast then wake my mother and sister up who I now have to call Mistress and Lady. Then I have to dress Lady and clean her room then the drawing room and library and the rest of the day is mine till I help prepare dinner and Lady for bed.

I spend different days in a variety of ways like: horse riding, practice sword fighting, reading or sewing which I learnt or just walking in the gardens.

Looking at it I am lucky that I get any time of day to myself. But what I was forced to give up was much worse. My Mother faked my death. Her daughter is dead. She calls me "The Girl" and my sister calls me "maid" Dutchess Christine Marie Garret of Datson no long exists my mother created me as an orphan so I lost my family when I lost my Father. The other family servant's call me Chris or in Mandy the cook's case she calls me Lady Chris. She was my father's confidant and most trusted servant she is the only one who knows the truth and why I am a servant in my own house hold, it all comes down to one thing really, Love.

My parents were a love match, they were so much in love; and then I was born their first Little Angel. Then two years later baby Melanie, and then about a year later my mother was pregnant again. Sadly my little brother died and my mother almost did during birth and from that day on the love just faded away. I can't really explain what happened I was only three at the time but I know that it wasn't for lack of my dad trying to fix it. The spark that they had once shared was gone my father doted on me and my sister went to my mum. I grew up travelling with my dad a few months every year, while my sister stayed with Mother, She gets travel sick over long distances. I think my mother regretted loosing the son that my father always wanted or maybe she was too angry that she nearly lost her life either way there was no love there anymore.

My mother didn't love me that much either, because my father loved me so and because of this I grew in to a tom boy and my life played out the way it did. And I ended up a servant in my own home.

Many people would say that my life was terrible and that loosing my birth right of being a Dutchess and becoming a servant in my own home was in-excusable. I'd rather look at the glass half full like my dad taught me. It could be so much worse. I could have been sold by my mother after she faked my death and treated far worse than I am now. But it still doesn't mean that I don't have my bad days where I wish everything was different.

I have to go and do my chores now… why do I feel like today something is going to happen?

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ok so if you want me to continue, let me know what you think, i cant read minds