After Sir Richard’s untimely death things were different in the Tremaine household. The book of fairy tales had gotten some things right. He did die, quite suddenly and all too soon. Lady Tremaine’s fortune had been returned to her upon his death, and the story was right that she had squandered it, if you could call trying to care for her children, herself, and a stepdaughter she hated squandering. There wasn’t even enough left to book them passage back to England. She was quite literally trapped, with hardly enough money to support her daughters and Cinderella, and she was desperate to do something that could change their circumstances. She tried mailing several letters to Lady Hackle herself, but even without Rebecca’s interference, she was almost certain her friend did not receive them. It felt as if the entirety of the Many Kingdoms was conspiring to keep her and her daughters trapped there so they could live out this predestined story.

And just like it was written in the book, one morning as Lady Tremaine was having her coffee in bed, her daughters came screaming into her room. It seemed Cinderella had put a mouse under Anastasia’s teacup.

Lady Tremaine had had enough of this mouse nonsense. It was one thing for Cinderella to make clothing for the things when she was a little girl and treat them like living dolls she could play with, but it had become an unhealthy and frankly disturbing obsession now that she was a young lady. She spent all her time up in her room talking to the foul creatures, and Lady Tremaine was starting to become concerned for Cinderella’s state of mind.

Nothing ever seemed to faze the girl. She didn’t cry at her father’s funeral, and she didn’t protest when Lady Tremaine insisted she take over the household duties. She even appeared rather pleased when Lady Tremaine told her she would be sleeping in the attic bedroom after her father died. Cinderella simply said, “I understand.” It seemed there was nothing Lady Tremaine could do to squash her spirit—the girl even sang as she did her chores.

But the fact was for all Cinderella’s smiles and naivety, Lady Tremaine felt the girl had a sinister side. She had been tormenting her daughters since the day they met: she put mice under their teacups, mice in their shoes, mice in their dress pockets, mice in little hats and vests everywhere! Lady Tremaine was sick to death of it. But what she resented most of all was that Cinderella had betrayed her. She had acted so sweet, then turned right around and told her father that she and her daughters were trying to escape. That, Lady Tremaine could never forgive. And now she detested the girl.

And so she found herself once again calling Cinderella into her room to have a talk with her about mice.