The sterling silver teapot, polished to shine, filled with Earl Grey steeped for seven minutes. Three teacups, each with saucer and teaspoon, the milk pitcher, filled fresh from that morning's milking, and the sugar pot. Honey for Anastasia, half a stick of cinnamon for Drizella, and two slices of lemon for Stepmother. A small dish of curled chocolate shavings, not chunks, never again chunks, because some lessons in life are unforgettable.
And today, at last, placed ever so carefully beside the chocolate, a small sprig of dogwood blossoms, soft and white as snow.
The tray was heavy when it was fully laden, as it was now, and had been for each of the past eighty-one mornings. It could only be safely carried in short arms by employing both hands and elbows to their full advantage, making opening doors a podiatric achievement worthy of the most celebrated circus contortionists. But Ella had mastered the steps of the dance, eighty-one mornings later, and gracefulness proved itself an equal partner to caution in her steps as she made her way from the kitchen up to the bedrooms.
The door to her stepsisters' room was open. That was unusual. A quick glance inside revealed unmade beds, absent slippers, and no stepsisters.
The door to Lady Tremaine's chambers was closed. Ella shifted to balance the tray carefully against her hip, freeing one hand to knock quietly before opening the door and entering.
Lady Tremaine was seated at the writing desk, sorting through her correspondence.
"Leave it on the table," she said, without looking up.
Ella turned to the coffee table, currently occupied by four bare feet. At the other end of the feet, Anastasia and Drizella lounged on the settee behind the table, still in their nightgowns. They glanced at each other knowingly as Ella approached.
"Good morning," said Ella.
Drizella giggled. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Ella. "It is, for me at least. And I hope it is for you too."
"My mornings are always good," said Anastasia.
"Are not," said Drizella.
"Are too," said Anastasia.
"Are not infinity."
Anastasia stuck her tongue out.
Drizella reciprocated.
Ella tried shifting her weight to relieve some of the strain on her arms.
"Can you two please move your feet so I can put this down?"
"Yes," said Drizella, examining a hangnail.
Neither of them moved.
"It's heavy," Ella added.
"Mm," said Drizella.
Still their feet remained on the table.
Ella waited silently. Drizella began to pick at the hangnail. Anastasia blew a raspberry. Lady Tremaine turned around at its pop.
"Anastasia, what have I told you about obscene noises?"
"That they are unattractive and unbecoming for young ladies, and that God did not intend for me to take example from a codfish."
"That's right. So kindly restrain yourself." Finished with Anastasia, she turned to Ella, as if surprised to see her still there.
"I said to leave it," she said.
"Their feet are blocking the table; I asked them to move, but they won't," said Ella.
"Oh, is that what you meant?" said Drizella, removing her feet from the table and sitting up. Anastasia followed suit. "You asked if we could, I didn't know you meant if we would."
Ella flushed, and bent to set down the tray. As she rose, she brushed loose strands of hair out of her eyes, wincing at sudden soreness in her arms. Her vision cleared, she caught Lady Tremaine watching her.
"Girls," she said, without taking her eyes off Ella, "take your tea to your room."
"But-" began Anastasia.
"Now."
They left, Anastasia with a pout, Drizella with a smirk and a loud whisper to Ella.
"Now see if you still think it's a good morning."
Lady Tremaine ignored her daughter's remark, and moved to take their place on the settee. Unlike her daughters, she sat upright, with iron posture and poise. She reached for the teapot and slowly poured herself a cup of tea, then took one of the lemon slices and began squeezing it into the cup, careful not to let any of the juice onto her fingers in the process.
Ella's fingers fidgeted inside the deep pockets of Mrs. Wollens' too-big apron.
Lady Tremaine raised the cup to her lips, blew on it softly, and took a careful sip before setting the cup back down and finally turning to Ella.
"It's time you and I had a talk," said Lady Tremaine at last.
"The dogwood bloomed this morning," said Ella.
"Don't change the subject," said Lady Tremaine.
"I thought that was going to be the subject."
"What do I care if the dogwood blooms? It's a tree, that's what it's supposed to do."
"Well yes, but you said I could move back upstairs when the dogwood blooms, if I made the tea every morning. And I have, and now the dogwood has bloomed."
"Oh heavens, child. Don't be such a simpleton. Forget the dogwood. We need to discuss your future."
"Moving back upstairs is part of my future," said Ella.
"My dear, we need to think a bit further than the coming week. I have been giving your future quite a bit of thought lately. It's a rather inconvenient situation, but there's really nothing to do but to try to make the best of it."
"I don't understand," said Ella. "What inconvenient situation?"
"Why, you of course. Well, and the embarrassment of your father's death. But they're two sides of the same coin. Your father could not have chosen a more awkward way to go, but the mere fact of his death coupled with a complete lack of provision for you and your future brings us to where we are today."
"But he did provision for my future. He told me that you and Mrs. Wollens would look after me, just like Drizella and Anastasia."
"Did he now," said Lady Tremaine dryly. "Well, here are the facts of the matter. Mrs. Wollens is no longer here, and this shall be the last time her name is mentioned in my presence. I have attempted to contact your father's family, but it would seem that they are not interested in you. You are alone in the world."
Ella tensed. Her father's family meant only her uncle, and her uncle's disinterest, while a mild disappointment, came as no surprise – she had been too little to remember the last time he had visited his brother. But something else did bother her.
"You're my family too – you and Drizella and Anastasia."
Lady Tremaine grimaced, and added the other lemon slice to her tea before responding.
"Death dissolves the bonds of marriage," she said, gently swirling the contents of her cup counterclockwise. "Your father is no longer my husband, therefore I am no longer your mother."
"What are you then?" asked Ella, a knot growing in her stomach.
"I am Lady Tremaine."
"That's not what I meant exactly."
"You want to know what role I will play in your life now."
"Yes."
"I will not cast you out into the streets. I considered it, and the considerable burden it would lift from the household finances, but I believe a better solution exists. A more mutually beneficial solution. That is why I am going to permit you to stay here."
Ella's shoulders relaxed, though the knot in her stomach remained.
"However," continued Lady Tremaine, "I expect you to earn your keep. Nothing in life is free. You will cook and you will clean, and you will assist my daughters and me as needed. Understood?"
Ella nodded.
Her stepmother frowned. "You will speak when spoken to, and you will address me as either Lady Tremaine or Madam."
"Yes, Madam," said Ella. The title felt cumbersome, like talking around a mouthful of marbles.
"Very good." Lady Tremaine drained the last of her tea and replaced the cup on the tray. "Now collect the rest of the tea things from Drizella and Anastasia and do the washing up. After that, make sure Drizella and Anastasia are dressed and ready for their morning lessons. You will make the beds and tidy the bedrooms before making lunch. After lunch, we will see about moving Drizella into your old room."
"My old room? Madam?"
"Yes. She's been asking after it since we moved in, and I think the south-facing window will give her better air at night."
"But that's my room!"
"Not anymore." She stood, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her skirt. "You are not your father's little princess any longer. The sooner you understand that, the better."
Her words knocked the wind out of Ella.
"I'm not- I don't- He never-" she fumbled.
"We're finished here," said Lady Tremaine. "I expect lunch to be on the table at noon."
Ella moved through the rest of the morning in a daze. She collected her stepsisters' teacups in silence, finally understanding Drizella's earlier remarks, but unable to muster any retorts of her own.
Though they weren't her stepsisters any longer, she supposed, not if Lady Tremaine was no longer her stepmother. How had she put it? Death dissolves the bonds of marriage. Marriage, perhaps, but that was different than fatherhood. He would always be her father. But then did that make him still Drizella and Anastasia's father as well? Maybe they were still stepsisters after all. Ella wasn't sure whether she wanted them to be or not.
But why was she even having this conversation with herself? You can't choose your family. Family isn't a choice. Her father loved her no matter what she said or did, and she loved him the same way. Mrs. Wollens could leave, because despite the love and affection between her and Ella, in the end she wasn't family and wasn't bound to Ella or her father they way they were bound to each other. Family was different.
So she ended where she had begun – were Lady Tremaine and her daughters Ella's family?
Whatever they were, they took their lunch together in the dining room without Ella. After seeing them settled in, she pocketed a piece of bread and drifted upstairs to her old room.
Her first thought was that nothing had changed – the wardrobe door was still ajar, revealing a handful of limp pinafores, the book on her bedside table was still there, with the bookmark untouched. Even the wicker basket of laundry in the corner held the same clothes as it had the night Ella awoke from her nightmare and snuck down to join Mrs. Wollens.
Her regained freedom would allow her to finally change clothes today, she realized, and sleep in a proper nightgown tonight.
She frowned. Where would she sleep tonight? Surely not in the kitchen anymore, but Stepmother – that was, Lady Tremaine – hadn't said. Maybe she would finally unlock Mrs. Wollens' room.
Sighing, she pushed away the endless questions nagging at her mind, and lay back on the bed. Sunlight from the open window warmed the coverlet and Ella closed her eyes. Faster than she remembered was possible, she dozed off into a world of sunny picnics and summer swims, all in the arms of her father, not pale and gaunt as she'd last seen him, but as he was before, tall and strong and laughing.
They ran through a meadow and he lifted her up off her feet by her elbows and spun her in a circle, her feet flying, around and around. The trees and grass around them blurred as they turned, and Ella kept her eyes locked on his face, laughing and carefree, until it darkened, and suddenly saddened, and his grip loosened, and even as Ella tried to grab at his arms, his hands, any part of him, he let go completely and the momentum of his spin sent her flying away, over the trees and out of sight.
And she awoke in her bed in the patch of sun, just as her stepsisters entered. "Hey!" said Drizella. "Get off my bed! Mother, tell her to get off!"
Lady Tremaine followed her daughters in.
"Ella? I thought I was quite clear this morning."
"I didn't mean to fall asleep," said Ella, scrambling off the bed. "I just-"
"And she left crumbs!" whined Drizella. "She's going to attract mice to my bed!"
"Or spiders!" added Anastasia. "Or ants, or centipedes!"
"Girls, girls, settle down," said Lady Tremaine. "Let's not get carried away. Sleeping Beauty here will shake out the bedding and sweep the floor. For that matter, Ella, you'd better wash all the bedding here, just in case. For a fresh start for Drizella's new room. And since you're already doing a load, do the other beds as well."
"All the beds?" asked Ella. "That'll take all afternoon! And I just made them this morning!"
"Best get started then. And come back up here when you have them drying, you need to clear away your things so Drizella will have enough space."
As she spoke, she pulled up the corners of the bedding and thrust the bundle into Ella's arms, pushing her towards the door.
"Go," she said.
Ella went.
It was late that evening when Ella finally screwed her courage to the sticking place and sought out Lady Tremaine. She found her in Ella's father's study, pouring over papers, slim reading glasses sliding low to the end of her nose.
"Yes, what is it?" asked Lady Tremaine impatiently.
"Well, it's just, I was wondering, I know Drizella's in my room now, but the dogwood did bloom today, and Mrs. Wol- the kitchen bedroom, I mean, it's still locked, and there's Drizella's old bed in Anastasia's room, but I wasn't sure-"
"I haven't the faintest idea what you are trying to say, child. Get to the point."
"Where do I sleep now?"
Lady Tremaine sighed and rubbed her temples.
"Really, Ella, this is why you interrupted me? You've been sleeping in the kitchen for months now, I don't see the problem."
"But the whole point of the tea was so I could get out of the kitchen."
"What, have you found peas under your mattress there?" she asked scornfully.
"There is no mattress there. There's no bed there."
"Of course not; beds are not generally found in kitchens."
"Can you unlock the kitchen bedroom so I can sleep in the bed there?"
"No, that would be quite impossible. I intend to hire a gardener soon, and that room will go to him."
"But in the meantime, couldn't I sleep there? Unless you'd like me to move in to Anastasia's room with her."
"Out of the question. You will not impose upon Anastasia. And no, I don't think it would be a good idea for you to get used to the kitchen bedroom now, only to have to move again later."
"Then where? I've got to sleep someplace, and if the kitchen bedroom and the three bedrooms upstairs are all out, then would you rather have me take over the library, parlor, or sitting room?"
"The attic," said Lady Tremaine suddenly.
"The- the attic?" stammered Ella.
"Yes, the attic. It's perfect. I believe you'll find it rather spacious, if I recall correctly, and it's already furnished. What a good idea."
"But it's so-" Ella broke off, not sure how to finish the sentence. Dark? Scary? Dusty? It had been years since anyone had been up there. While it was large, most of the space was taken up by furniture put away for storage and long since forgotten.
"Perfect, yes. Now, if that's all-" Lady Tremaine made a dismissive gesture and turned back to her papers.
Ella left the room wishing she had brought up the topic sooner, at least while there was still daylight. She didn't remember there being any lamps in the attic, and wasn't eager to go exploring on her first night by candlelight.
On the other hand, she had awakened this morning to a spider crawling across her face.
She fetched a candle from the kitchen, then made her way up the winding back staircase. Designed both to give the house a fairy tale style turret and to allow staff to move throughout the house discreetly, it opened to both the kitchen and vegetable garden at the basement level, then passed through the library on the first floor and the bedroom hallway on the second floor via cleverly disguised entrances before opening into the open third floor attics, which spanned the entire breadth and width of the house, and culminating in a tiny round fourth floor room formed by the conical roof. This room had no door, only the open space in the floor through which the stairs led. Far too small and awkward an entrance for furniture, Ella knew it would be empty.
Though it was late and her body ached from the afternoon of laundry and moving Drizella's things, she found her mind too restless to sleep. She blew out the candle and sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest under her thin nightgown as she patiently waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
"Congratulations," she thought to herself. "You wanted to move upstairs, and now you have, as far upstairs as possible."
AN: So book plug time! Have any of you read Marissa Meyer's Cinder? It's a Cinderella with cyborgs and hovercars and moon magic and it sounds weird, but it's really well done and really original but still really true to the parts that keep me coming back to the Cinderella story. A friend recommended it to me and I picked it up from the library this weekend and read all 390 pages that same day. What a great feeling. Isn't summer wonderful? And the best part is, there are sequels too (possibly not as good, I don't know yet, but one can hope)! Anyway, I recommend it.
And out of general curiosity, what are y'all's favorite Cinderella versions/adaptations/retellings (book, movie, tv series, fanfics, whatever)?