Among them was my f/f version of Cinderella, 'At Her Service'.
In honor of the occasion, I'm posting an 'At Her Service' freebie story from Ariella's perspective long before she was the mistress. It's about how Laure ended up with the name of Cinders.
Enjoy!
Not long after I met Laure, Lord Charles fell ill with a wasting, mysterious illness.
I’m not sure if my mother had anything to do with it or not. I never dared to ask her.
All I know is she seized control of the chateux as soon as Lord Charles breathed his last.
“It’s finally mine,” she gloated, marching up the stairs in black, ignoring the procession carrying the former master’s body out. “Unspeakable that that man should have been able to wrest it from the female line.”
I didn’t say anything. I wondered about Laure, where she was. She’d just lost her father. Her entire world was about to change.
Laure stood in the hall, her face red and puffy. She wore black and did her best to hold her hands in front of her with proper decorum, even though they trembled.
My heart went out to her.
“Oh, it’s you.” My mother looked down her nose at the girl. “I suppose you’re my responsibility now.”
“I’ll take care of her.” I moved forward, wanting to get Laure out of my mother’s presence as soon as possible. “Where’s your room?”
“Her room?” My mother raised a hand to cover her lips, which twisted into an ugly smile. “She no longer has a room, or owns anything in this chateaux. Everything has returned to its rightful owner.”
“Are you going to throw me out?” Laure fixed her swollen green eyes upon me.
“Of course not!” I said. I took her hands firmly in mine. “You’re family. We’ll take care of you.”
A stinging blow knocked me off my feet.
“Ariella!” Laure cried, only to let out a scream.
I lifted myself off the floor to witness my mother, holding Laure up by the hair, hitting her face, over and over.
“Never address my daughter by name again!” She shreiked. “We are not family, you are nothing to us! Be grateful I haven’t thrown you out the door, you lowborn wretch!”
“Mother, stop!” I cried. “Her father asked us to take care of her!”
“Oh, I’ll take care of her!” My mother yanked on Laure’s hair once more, making her cry out. “I’ll make her wish she’d never been born!”
“Mother!” I drew myself up. “Let her go.”
“What’s this?” My mother dropped Laure to the ground to stare at me. “What are you saying?”
“Don’t you have a hundred things which now require your attention, now that you’re mistress of the chateux?” I lowered my voice and my head slightly. “Let me attend to this.”
My mother stared at me for a moment before glancing at Laure.
“Don’t be beguiled,” she warned. “Don’t let whisper sweet words you’re too ready to believe. Remember what I told you.”
She stormed in the direction of the garden, calling to the servants.
They came scurrying in all directions, trembling with fear.
“Come on.” I offered my hand to Laure. “Let’s go hide in the kitchen. She won’t come there.”
“Really?” Laure raised a tear stained face to look up at me.
“Really. Kitchens are hot, dirty, and she finds it beneath her in be in such a place.” I smoothed out Laure’s hair. “We can talk in there. Which way is it?”
“Follow me.” Laure gained a little confidence and strength in treading a family path through the hall, away from my mother’s bellow.
The kitchen was still warm with the ashes of the hearth.
Without consideration of her gown, Laure sat down in the middle of them.
“You shouldn’t do that,” I said, squashing a little envy. I was never allowed to get dirty. “Your dress will be ruined.”
“I don’t care.” She looked up at me. A few cinders now clung to her cheek. “Do you hear what she’s saying?” She balled her hands into fists. “The new mistress.”
My mother’s voice echoed as she ranted, calling whomever was in her presence spies, lackeys, traitors to the true owners of the chateaux.
“She’s dismissing the staff,” I said. My stomach turned over and lurched. “Anyone associated with this place, with you.”
“It’s not enough that my father is gone.” Anger rose in Laure’s eyes to melt once more into helpless despair. “She’s taking away everyone I’ve ever loved. I’ll be all alone.”
“Laure.” I took her hand in mine. “You’re not alone.”
“Perhaps it would be easier if I were dead.” She tightened her grip on my hand, as if it were a lifeline. “Your mother could have the estate. You wouldn’t be quarreling with her over me.”
“Don’t ever say that!” I kept a firm grip on my hand, looking into her eyes. “I want you to live. I want you to stay!”
“Why? I have no place in this chateaux any more,” Laure murmured, but she didn’t release me. “I don’t belong here.”
“You could belong to me.”
Laure shot me a sharp glance.
What was I saying?
“You could become my servant.” I continued what I was saying, a little hesitant. “Servants are beneath my mother’s notice. She’d leave you alone if you were.”
“Your servant?” Laure cocked her head and regarded me.
It was a ridiculous suggestion. A lady reduced to being another’s servant? I doubted my mother would even be able to grasp such a suggestion. She’d rather take her own life, or be murdered than bow to another.
This was why I thought it might work. Such a fate was worse than death for a rival. My mother enjoy such creative cruelty.
Only I had to make certain it wouldn’t be that.
“You could pretend to be my servant while you decide what you’re going to do.” I dropped my gaze to our entwined hands. “It would give you an excuse to stay in your home, one my mother would accept.”
“Your mother.” She withdrew her hand from mine. “I’d have to live under her rule.”
“I’ll do everything I can to protect you from it,” I promised. “Until something better comes along.”
“Something better?” Laure tilted her head and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, to find a new home where you could live as a lady once more.” I fumbled with the words. “You could use the time to locate a distant relation who’ll take you in.”
“There are no other relatives.” Laure dropped her head. “The monks that once patronized my father will have nothing to with a girl, even if she’s a relative of a former student.”
The monks didn’t sound like they were any better than my mother.
“You could find a husband,” I ventured.
“A husband?” Laure stared at me as if I’d grown a second head.
“Well, a lot of ladies seem to want one.” I didn’t, but I was considered a bit odd by my peers, who giggled non-stop over the prospect of being brides. “Marriage might improve your status.”
“All right.” Laure nodded with a decisive movement that was almost violent.
“All right, you want a husband?” I blinked in confusion at her sudden change in mood.
“All right, I’ll become your servant.” She dropped her head. “From this day forward, Lady Ariella, I am yours.” She glanced up. “Just grant me one request.”
“Whatever you wish,” I said with the careless recklessness I possessed at that age.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my lady.” She dropped her eyes once more. “Give me a new name.”
“A new name?” Once more, I blinked at this.
“The old me is dead. A new name will help me accept it.” She balled a slender hand into a fist. “What’s more, I can hide behind it.”
She reached into the ash to smear it across her face.
“Don’t play with the cinders!” I murmured, reaching out to catch her hand, darkening my own fingers.
“Why not? I feel safe among them.” She smiled, allowing a tear to run down her cheek. “Cinders.”
“Cinders,” I repeated her words, feeling them stick in my throat. “You’ll always be safe here. I’ll make certain my mother doesn’t follow you into the kitchen.”
“Cinders.” She let out a sigh. “Yes, my life is cinders now. I am Cinders.” She fixed her green eyes upon me. “Somehow, it sounds pretty when you say it.”
I swallowed. I’d never meant call her that.
It still ended up being her name.
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