“Close the door, Cinderella,” she said in a low voice. “Come here.” She was stroking her cat, Lucifer, eyes narrowed at the girl. She had been putting up with nonsense like this for years, and she no longer had any patience for it. She had been doing it since day one, and no amount of conversation or punishment helped the matter. Cinderella had never learned, and she would have to accept the consequences.

Of course, Cinderella tried to deny it. But who else would put a mouse in a matching hat and vest under a teacup?

“Oh, please, you don’t think—” Cinderella tried to defend herself, but Lady Tremaine cut her off.

“Hold your tongue! Now!” she snapped, then continued. “It seems we have time on our hands,” she said, picking up her coffee cup and smiling.

“But I was only trying to—” Cinderella began, but again Lady Tremaine cut her off.

“Silence! Time for vicious practical jokes? Perhaps we can put it to better use.” She poured cream into her coffee and continued.

“Now…let me see. There’s the large carpet in the main hall. Clean it! And the windows, upstairs and down. Wash them! Oh, yes…and the tapestries, and the draperies…” Lady Tremaine felt a sense of power in making Cinderella pay for everything she had done to make her life miserable—the mice, of course, and the unforgivable betrayal. But she also enjoyed it because she and her daughters had spent years cleaning up after Cinderella and doing her father’s bidding, all under the watchful eye of her poor, sweet, perfect, deceased mother. The mother Lady Tremaine had never had a hope of replacing. She was delighted to turn the tables now on this deceitful and traitorous little brat. That is how Lady Tremaine saw her. And who could blame her really?

And because she had grown to hate the girl so much, she took delight in not letting her speak.

“But I just fin—”

The fact was, Lady Tremaine hated the sound of Cinderella’s simperingly sweet voice. She was sick of it, and she was sick of her. She hated the sight of the girl.

“Do them again!” Lady Tremaine snapped. “And don’t forget the garden. Then scrub the terrace…sweep the halls…and the stairs…clean the chimneys. And of course, there’s the mending, and the sewing, and the laundry.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Oh, yes, and one more thing. See that Lucifer gets his bath,” she added, knowing how much Cinderella hated giving Lucifer his bath.

It was mornings like this that gave Lady Tremaine life. They made her feel like the strong, capable woman she was and not the coward she had become under the dominion of Cinderella’s father.

However, no amount of tormenting the girl would change their circumstances. She needed a plan. But then a solution to all their problems magically presented itself to her.

An invitation from the castle.