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- Herausgeber: Tami Veldura
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021
Cinder Ella
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Table of Contents
Book Description
Title Page
Free Fiction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
About the Author
If You Liked…
Copyright Page
Book Description
Ella is transgender. She's known since she was young; being a woman just fit better. She was happier in skirts than trousers, but that was before her stepmother moved in. Eleanor can't stand her, and after Ella's father passes she's forced to revert to Cole, a lump of a son. She cooks, she cleans, and she tolerates being called the wrong name for the sake of a roof over her head. Where else can she go?
An opportunity to attend the royal ball transforms Ella's life. For the first time, strangers see a woman when she walks down the stairs. While Princess Lizabetta invited Cole to the ball, she doesn't blink an eye when Cinderella is the one who shows. The princess is elegant, bold, and everything Ella never knew she wanted. For a moment she glimpses a world that can accept her, and she holds on tight.
She should have known it wouldn't last. Dumped by her wicked stepmother on the farthest edge of the kingdom, Ella must find a way to let go of the princess and the beautiful life they shared for an hour. She'll never find her way back. But it's hard to forget the greatest night of her life when every rose she plants is a reminder.
Free Fiction
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Chapter One
Ella plunged her dark hands back into the piles of white bubbles, fishing up dirty fork after dirty fork. She scrubbed as she hummed, swaying slightly to a tune she barely remembered her father singing to her late at night. Her feet ached, but the swaying helped and she did a little spin to the dishrack where she propped up the forks. Ella slid a stack of plates into the suds. They clattered as they sank. The water was cooling, so Ella grabbed the big kettle slung over the fire and poured another boiling splash into her tub.
Now it was nice and hot. She hummed as she worked, scrubbing the plates, the bowls, another set of fine silverware, the first round of wine glasses—her two dish racks were full and the dishes were only half done.
Shaking her hands free of bubbles, Ella grabbed a warm rag from the rack by the fire and began wiping down plates. Her steps followed the song she hummed, touching lightly here, swaying there. She'd read through all of her sisters' pamphlets on how to dance like the ladies and lords, practicing on her sore feet until her satisfaction drove away the ache.
She set a plate down with its clean mates and lifted a handful of damp silverware. With a small flourish, she brandished a spoon at the nose of her dog. Lady lifted her nose far enough to sniff the offering, but since it wasn't food, she dismissed it. Ella stepped around the dog, sliding into the half-remembered positions of offense, defense, and parry. The dog was not a good opponent. Ella went back to humming. It was better that she practice the dancing, anyway. No one would take her seriously as a swordsman.
With a sigh, she turned away from the dishes to consider the prep counter. Plates of half-finished food stacked between serving bowls of soups occupied the entire surface. It was a great waste of things, but Ella's stepmother was never one to skimp on entertaining her betters. As if by stuffing their bellies she could find a place at their table.
Ella took great advantage. She laid out a fire-warm rag on the wooden floor and dumped all the breads and cheeses in a pile. The sausages would keep, too. Lady took an interest and trotted over, her blunt nails clip-clipping on the wood.
"Ah. Leave it," Ella warned. Lady huffed, but left it. She intently watched Ella add to the pile.
The root veggies had been boiled into mush and she skipped those, but the raw ones had hardly been touched. Ella wrapped up the bundle, tying it tight in the middle, and held the knot up for Lady. "To the bedroom," she directed.
Lady took the bundle gently and trotted out of the kitchen. Ella put her hands on her hips to study the rest of the leftovers. The soup would keep if she left it over the fire. And the remains of the roasted birds could be tossed in. Ella picked a bit of skin off a roasted chicken and delighted in its crunch.
Lady returned without the bundle of foods. Ella picked a piece of chicken off the bone and tossed it to her. She snapped it up, mid-air, and thumped her tail. Ella divided her attention between carving the birds for the soup and feeding Lady choice morsels from the bits that were left. Odds were good her sisters wouldn't touch the stew tomorrow, considering the mix of flavors too pedestrian. But Ella delighted in testing combinations together and that simply left more food for her alone.
Ella's stepmother probably thought all this prep and cleaning was a suitable punishment. Ella wasn't about to correct her outlook. The woman's need to show her wealth and status at the dinner table only left Ella with a rare full belly several days in a row.
"COLE! Get over here!" Her stepmother's high voice screeched through Ella's humming.
Ella flinched. She set the carving knife down gently and took two deep breaths. She ducked her head, wiped her hands clean, and took another moment in the kitchen doorway to gather herself. She was Ella, her father's daughter; but her stepmother only saw the lump of a son her ex-husband left behind. Ella swallowed herself down deeply. She was Cole. Her jaw too square, her hair too short, her chest too flat, her feet too big.
She pressed her hands together and walked briskly into the dining room. Her stepmother, Eleanor, sat tall and haughty at the head of the table, flanked on either side by her true daughters, Elise and Emily. The girls flanked Ella in age, and once they had played together. No longer. They were entertaining a minor lord and his retinue today, filling the table with six other guests.
Ella stopped precisely beside her stepmother, half bowed, ready for whatever instructions were demanded of her.
"Take these away. We're done. Bring the wine. You've let it breathe, I hope."
"Yes, ma'am," Ella whispered. She slipped around the table, efficiently collecting the small plates stained with dessert and the tiny forks that went with them.
Elise slapped her hand away. "I'm obviously not finished yet."
