“Welcome home, my love,” she said, ready to receive his embrace, but he didn’t take her into his arms. Instead, he passed right by her, rushing over to Cinderella, who was waiting for him, tears in her eyes.

“My sweet girl! How are you? Did you miss your papa?”

Lady Tremaine had never seen a man so happy to see his daughter. He hugged her so tightly she thought he might crush the poor girl.

Lady Tremaine put her hand to her chest to feel for her favorite brooch, but it wasn’t there. She needed it. She needed that extra layer, something to protect her heart. She stood there feeling exposed, hurt and lost, but she found her composure and walked down the length of her servants, all of whom were giving her sad looks, to join her husband and daughters.

“I did miss you, Papa! I don’t have to go to bed already, do I? Nanny says that Stepmother says we do, but I want to stay up and hear about your adventures. And I don’t have to get rid of my mice, do I?” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He laughed. “Of course you don’t have to go to bed early or get rid of your mice, my angel. And who is this Nanny?” He looked up then, finally noticing the assembled staff.

“Excuse me a moment, my beautiful girl, I have neglected to say hello to your stepsisters and stepmother. Anastasia, Drizella,” he said, looking at them. “And my lady. May I speak with you in the other room?”

Lady Tremaine flinched. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Did he want to be alone with her because he didn’t feel comfortable showing affection in front of the servants? From the tone of his voice it sounded like she was in for a scolding, though she couldn’t fathom what would warrant it.

“Of course, my husband,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him while she followed him into his study.

He took a seat behind his large antique desk, leaving her standing like she was a petulant schoolgirl about to be reprimanded by her headmaster. “What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself.”

She blinked a few times, trying to figure out what he meant. “Are you talking about the mice? I told her I’m sorry, Richard. I didn’t realize they weren’t like London mice.”

Sir Richard shook his head as if shaking off a bad thought. “Of course our mice are different from London mice! Did you say she couldn’t have her mice? You’re not to deny Cinderella anything she wants, do you understand? She’s lost her mother.”

Lady Tremaine stayed silent. She understood his sentiment. She had felt the same way after her husband died.