I lower my eyes, afraid she will strike me again believing I am trying to challenge her. “You’re right, Stepmother. I will be more careful.” Remembering what I’d heard from the delivery man, I lift my gaze to her again. “The delivery man had exciting news today.”
She arches a brow, as if trying to suppress her interest in what I have to say, but she doesn’t fool me. I know she loves news and gossip just as much as her daughters.
I continue. “The palace issued a decree. They are hosting a royal ball. All eligible maidens are required to attend.”
“I heard that this morning as well.” She rolls her eyes, unimpressed by my news. “Everyone has heard of this by now.”
I do my best to ignore her comment and walk to the linen closet where I’ve stored all the fabric I’ve saved. I want to go to the ball, and I know she’ll only agree if I already have the material I need to make a dress for myself. She certainly would not think of buying anything for me. “I... I saved this material and fabric.” I hold it out to her. “And I have enough to make myself a dress, and to possibly make a sash or some kind of trim for Mary and Beth as well if they’d like.”
Her eyes search mine a moment, narrowing. She reaches out and takes the fabric from me, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger as she studies it closely. “No.” She sniffs. “This will not do for Mary or Beth. But it should suit you just fine.”
I’m not quite sure how to respond since it is the very same fabric they’ve had dresses made from over the years, so instead, I just nod.
“Ella?”
“Yes?”
She gives me a thin-lipped smile. “We’re going out this evening. You needn’t make any dinner.”
A noise at the top of the stairs draws my attention. I look up to find Mary and Beth dressed in matching gowns with their hair braided exactly the same. As competitive as they are with each other, you’d think they would try to wear distinct clothing and hairstyles to tell them apart. Instead, they look almost like twins.
Mary looks at the fabric in my stepmother’s hands. “What is that?”
“Yes,” Beth says, eying the material. “It’s lovely.”
Griselda smirks. “Ella has saved this fabric to make herself a dress. She has also offered some of it to you as trimming for your dresses for the royal ball.”
“Royal ball?” Mary’s face lights up.
“Yes,” My stepmother answers. “The prince is to choose a wife at the event.”
“Can you imagine?” Beth stares at the opposite wall with a faraway look as if caught in a daydream. “Me? The next princess?”
Mary elbows her, startling her out of her reverie. “The prince won’t want you. He’ll choose me.”
“No, he won’t.” Beth snarls. “He’ll definitely prefer me. I’m the pretty one.”
“Take what you need for trim,” I interrupt, drawing their attention back to me. “But please make sure to leave me enough to make myself a dress for the ball.”
They blink down at me in astonishment.
Mary is the first one down the stairs. She studies the fabric with a scrutinizing gaze. “Where did you get this?”
“I saved it. This is all the scraps left behind from the dressmaker and—”
“Why, you little thief!” Griselda says, and then slaps me again. “I knew this material looked familiar.”
I place my hand over my face and stare up at her in fear. “I—I didn’t steal it. It was meant to be thrown away. I merely saved it to use later and—”
She slaps me again, this time much harder. Standing to full height, she glares down at me and points to the wall. “Stand there,” she commands.
“But, Stepmother, I—”
“Now,” she says in a low voice full of anger.
Hesitantly, I move to the wall and place my palms flat against it as I brace myself for my beating.
“Your dress,” she says, reminding me to slip out of the top half to reveal my back.
Shakily, I do as she asks. I cringe as I hear the side table drawer open and slam to a close.
No sooner does my dress fall to my waist than the crack of the lash rips across my skin like fire. Every nerve ending jolts with excruciating pain. I try but fail to suppress a whimper on the second whip. But on the third and fourth, I cry out in agony. She stops after the fifth, and it takes everything I have to remain standing.
She grips my chin and directs my face toward her; I can barely make out her pitying look through my tears. “You know I hate to do that to you, but I have no choice, Ella. I don’t want you to grow up a thief, you know.”
I lower my eyes as I swallow back a sob and lift my dress, securing it around my shoulders again. “I understand, Stepmother.”
A faint smile curves her lips. “Now then. We’ll be back later tonight.”
With that, she turns and leaves. I note that she takes the fabric with her, passing it off to my stepsisters. They glare at me a moment before leaving as well, taking my glimmer of hope for a better life with them.
Swallowing back a sob, I wipe the moisture from my face and then gather food for Cash and Finn. Everything hurts so badly it’s difficult to walk. Holding the wall, it takes all my strength to make it back up the stairs, and when I do, I’m fighting back tears from the pain.
Pushing the door open, my foot snags on the raised entryway, and I trip forward. Hissing, I barely catch myself in time before stumbling to the floor.
Cash and Finn rush toward me, worry etched in their features.
I manage
