Cold Hearted

by Serena Valentino

  Lady Tremaine was exhausted from this long day. She had gotten up early to finish all her housework. Without the assistance of Rebecca and Nanny, she wouldn’t have had time to make herself presentable for dinner, or to arrange the gifts that she was so excited to give the girls. She just wished her husband would agree to let her hire some more staff. She hated adding to Nanny’s and Rebecca’s duties when they already had so much work of their own to do.

  As she was passing Sir Richard’s study, she decided she would ask him if they couldn’t hire someone, at least in the kitchen. As it was she had been prevailing upon Rebecca too often with special meals, even though it wasn’t her job.

  As she stood in front of his study door, she willed herself to have the courage to go in, trying to evoke something of her old self, but she felt ugly, covered in the soot she had been scrubbing off the floors. As she reached for the knob she saw her raw, cracked, and swollen hands. She sighed, deciding it would be better to bring this matter up with her husband later after he’d had the special dinner she planned.

  Lady Tremaine had decided to wear the red dress she had worn the evening Sir Richard proposed to her, and she asked Nanny to see that the girls were also dressed festively, making sure to remind her to check Cinderella’s pockets for mice before she came down to the dining room.

  The dining room looked lovely. Lady Tremaine had decorated the mantel, windows, and doorways with holly and filled the room with white candles. She had stockings by the fireplace, one for each of the three girls, with little things she had made for them and trinkets of her own she thought they would enjoy. She had even made a little outfit for one of Cinderella’s mice out of one of her old sparkly handbags. And the tree was magnificent, glistening in the candlelight, showcasing the girls’ decorations. It was going to be the perfect evening.

  As she stood in the dining room entryway waiting for the girls and Sir Richard, she felt like her old self again. She reached up and touched her jade brooch, which she had made sure to pin to the bodice of her dress tonight. She loved how cold the stone felt beneath her fingers and thought that was how she would like to feel: cold, strong, and solid. Nothing Sir Richard could say to her this evening would sway her or knock her down. She felt sturdy and unmovable, like a statue.

  And then she saw them, her girls, coming down the staircase in their vibrant red velvet Christmas dresses. Cinderella was in gold, and all of them looked like beautiful Christmas angels.

  Sir Richard came down a few minutes later, narrowing his eyes at the festive dresses and decorations. “And what’s this?” he said as he got closer. “Well, don’t you look beautiful, Cinderella.” He smiled down at his daughter. “What’s the occasion?” he asked, looking at Lady Tremaine, Anastasia, and Drizella. “Why are you dressed in red?” He glanced into the dining room. “And what’s that?”

  “Oh, Mama, you remembered,” said Anastasia, hugging her mother.

  “It’s Christmas Eve!” Drizella clapped her hands together with glee.

  “What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself,” Sir Richard said, taking in the stockings hanging over the fireplace.

  “Those are Christmas stockings, my husband.”

  Anastasia and Drizella dashed over to peek at what was inside. “You know the rules, girls, no peeking. You may open your gifts after we have had dinner if you like,” Lady Tremaine said, laughing. “Cinderella, there is a stocking for you, too.”

  “Thank you, Stepmother,” she said carefully, eyeing her father.

  Sir Richard’s face was red. “Have this tree taken down at once!” he said, his voice low and angry.

  “Oh, Papa, she didn’t know,” said Cinderella, trying to calm her father down. “Look, Anastasia, Drizella, and I made these decorations ourselves!”

  Sir Richard frowned at her. “You knew about this and didn’t tell me?”

  Cinderella took her father’s hand. “I didn’t know why we were making the decorations, Father. I’m sorry. But isn’t the tree lovely? I missed having one for the solstice, and it was so thoughtful of Lady Tremaine to do all this for us,” she said, which surprised Lady Tremaine. It made her like the girl a bit more.

  Sir Richard walked away from his daughter, standing in front of the fireplace looking at the portrait of his wife. She looked just like Cinderella but older. It was as if he were having a conversation with her in his mind, reconciling something with her.

  Anastasia, Drizella, and Lady Tremaine just stood there watching, not knowing what to do.

  “What did I do wrong, Cinderella? Why is your father so upset?” Lady Tremaine whispered.

  “The solstice was a special time for Mama and Papa. That is when he proposed. We always made a grand party of it.”

  Lady Tremaine understood. “I’m sorry, Richard. I didn’t know. Can’t we start a tradition of our own and celebrate Christmas? If not for us, then for the girls?”

  He turned around with a sneer. “And this is how you celebrate in London, by hanging laundry on the fireplace mantel? It’s a mockery of the solstice,” he said, shaking his head.

  “But I’ve arranged a Christmas dinner for all of us. Rebecca has been preparing it all day.” She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t disappoint the girls.

  “We don’t celebrate Christmas in the Many Kingdoms. Rebecca should have told you that,” he said angrily.

  “Papa, won’t you please just sit down and enjoy the dinner Stepmother has arranged? We could have a lovely evening, Papa, if you just try.” Cinderella went to her father and gave him a kiss. “Please, Papa. For me?”

  To Lady Tremaine’s surprise, his face softened. “Very well, my angel, you know I can’t deny you,” he said, and motioned for everyone to sit down to dinner.

  Dinner went well enough, all things considered. Rebecca had made them a feast, though Lady Tremaine was wondering why she and Nanny had neglected to tell her that Christmas wasn’t celebrated in the Many Kingdoms. Sir Richard’s words still stung, but it was enlightening to see where some of his harshness had come from. She and her girls sat quietly through most of dinner as Sir Richard lavished most of his attention on his daughter, who was trying her best to bring everyone into the conversation.

  “Isn’t this a wonderful dinner, Papa? Lady Tremaine did a wonderful job, don’t you think?” she said, surprising Lady Tremaine even more. She wondered if she and Cinderella might after all become friends.

  “I understand Rebecca made the meal,” he said, shoveling more food into his mouth greedily. It made Lady Tremaine slightly queasy. She detested poor manners at the dinner table. She detested most things about Sir Richard, she had found. She sat there looking at him with disgust, wondering how she ever fell for his skullduggerous ways. She had thought he was so charming when they first met, and now she could hardly hide her contempt for him.

  “Yes, she is a very good cook.” Lady Tremaine smiled at Cinderella to let her know she appreciated her trying to lighten the mood at the table.

  “Though that isn’t Rebecca’s job, is it? The lady of the house should make the meals,” he said.

  “I dare say the court has a cook, and so do half the people of this village,” said Lady Tremaine. “I don’t see why we can’t hire one and a couple of girls to help around the house. It’s really too much for me to manage on my own.”

  Sir Richard laughed. “Are you comparing yourself with the queen now? Are you so high and mighty you can’t cook for your family?”

  Lady Tremaine ran her fingers across her brooch. “Of course not, husband. But it wouldn’t hurt to get some help around this house, and I must insist that we do.” She felt brave sitting there before him, wearing the brooch her previous husband had given her. She felt strong, and there was nothing he could do to make her feel otherwise. Or at least that is how she felt in that moment.

  “Well, if it means that much to you, then yes. You can have some help,” he said, pushing his plate away from him now that he was finished, another habit she detested. “But you won’
t need to hire anyone. The girls can help you.” He patted his stomach like a fat king.

  “But what of their education? I thought you agreed that Stasia, Zella, and Cinderella would continue their studies,” said Lady Tremaine.

  “Oh, Cinderella will continue her education. I meant your girls. Anastasia and Drizella,” he said.

  Anastasia and Drizella leaped up from their seats.

  “What does he mean, Mama?” asked Drizella, running over to her mother.

  Anastasia was close behind. “He can’t be serious!”

  “That isn’t fair,” said Cinderella. It shocked Lady Tremaine that Cinderella was standing up for her stepsisters.

  “You are such a dear girl, Cinderella, and you’re turning into a beautiful young woman, just like your mother. It’s remarkable how much you favor her,” he said, ignoring Anastasia and Drizella and smiling at his daughter. “I think it’s time to present you to court. I have long held a wish that you and the prince would eventually marry.”

  Cinderella dropped her fork, which fell to her plate with a loud clank. “Oh, Papa, I will never leave you. Not ever,” she said.

  “Well, I think it’s a wonderful idea to present the girls to court,” said Lady Tremaine, eagerly scanning his face to guess what he might be thinking before he replied. But his answer was quite clear.

  “I don’t intend to present your girls to court, Lady Tremaine. They will be far too busy in the kitchen helping you.”

  Lady Tremaine was livid. “I wonder that you didn’t just hire a housekeeper, Sir Richard, because it’s clear that is all you wanted from the start,” said Lady Tremaine.

  Sir Richard scoffed. “Housekeepers don’t come with large dowries, and besides, I’d have to pay a housekeeper,” he said, sneering at her.

  Five long years passed since that horrible Christmas Eve, and the girls were now old enough to be presented at court, but Sir Richard wouldn’t hear of it.

  “But why won’t you let my girls be presented along with Cinderella?” Lady Tremaine had broached the subject as he was heading out the door on castle business one morning.

  “I don’t have time for this conversation again. Standards are different in the Many Kingdoms. Your girls are just not, well, very presentable, shall we say, and I would be ashamed to claim them as my own in public. I’m sure you understand.” He tried to put an end to the conversation by scurrying out the door, but Lady Tremaine followed him.

  “I do not understand! What are you saying? My girls are beautiful!” she said sincerely, for she truly felt that way. But Sir Richard laughed.

  “You really believe that, don’t you?” he said, making his way to the carriage. “I must leave now, I’m late. And I won’t hear any more of this, do you understand?”

  The carriage drove off, leaving Lady Tremaine standing there. She was livid, but there was nothing she could do. She was trapped in the Many Kingdoms, trapped in that house, and trapped in a marriage. Her only hope was to try writing to Lady Hackle again. Lady Tremaine and her daughters couldn’t stay any longer. They were in misery. She had written to her friend Lady Hackle quite some time back to see if she could send her the money so she and her daughters could book passage back to London, but she never replied, which had begun to concern Lady Tremaine because she hadn’t heard from her friend since soon after she had arrived in the Many Kingdoms. She had been hoping once the girls were of age they could marry the Hackle boys and they, at least, would be free from this wretched place, but with no word from Lady Hackle she was starting to worry that she and her daughters would find no escape from Sir Richard or the Many Kingdoms.

  She went to her room to compose another letter and found her daughters crying on her bed. “Oh, my girls, what’s the matter?” she asked, rushing to put her arms around them.

  “We heard what Sir Richard said. He thinks we are ugly,” said Drizella.

  “No one will ever want to marry us,” said Anastasia.

  “That’s not true, my doves. You’re both beautiful. And don’t forget you’re betrothed to the Hackle boys. In fact, I was just about to write Lady Hackle to see if you could go there for a visit.”

  The girls’ faces brightened.

  “Really, Mama? Won’t you come with us?” said Anastasia. “We know how unhappy you are. Why not just leave this place? Sir Richard is horrible. We never go anywhere or do anything. We’re always trapped inside doing housework, and no one ever comes to visit us. We hate it here!”

  “I hate it here, too, my darlings. And if you can keep a secret, I’ll tell you what I really plan to do. I’ve been writing Lady Prudence asking if she can send us money to book passage to London as soon as possible. I promise I won’t keep you here a moment longer than I can help. I will do anything to get you out of this house. Mark my words.” She hugged them tight.

  “Thank you, Mama,” said Drizella.

  “Very well, my dears, off with you to take your lessons with Nanny while Sir Richard is at the castle. I will do your chores; he needn’t know you didn’t do them. Go now and learn as much as you can while he is away and let me write my letter to Lady Prudence.” She kissed them both before they dashed out of the room.

  As she was writing her letter, Rebecca came into the room. “Excuse me, my lady, I was looking for Lucifer. Cinderella says he’s been menacing her mice again, and I wanted to have a chat with him.”

  “Try the kitchen, he likes teasing the dog. Or maybe up in the attic; he loves how warm it is up there, because it gets lots of sun.” Lady Tremaine didn’t look up from writing her letter.

  “I can take that letter to the village to be sent off to Lady Hackle once you are finished,” Rebecca offered. Lady Tremaine raised her eyebrow. “By the way, did Lady Hackle ever say if she found the book of fairy tales? I feel just awful I didn’t find it in any of the trunks.”

  “She didn’t. I will include a postscript inquiring again,” she said, signing the letter and putting it into an envelope. As she wrote out the address and affixed her wax seal, she wondered how Rebecca knew she was writing to Lady Hackle. Then again, who else in all the world would she be writing to?

  “Before you go, please tell Nanny to keep an eye out for Sir Richard’s return. I wouldn’t like him to find Anastasia and Drizella taking lessons with Cinderella,” she said.

  “I understand, my lady.” Rebecca took the letter from Lady Tremaine and left.

  Finally alone, Lady Tremaine let out a great sigh. She had decided there was no way she and her daughters could stay another fortnight in that château. If she didn’t hear back from Lady Hackle within the week, she would steal back her own money if she had to, and if there was none to be had, then she would sell something. But one way or another she would leave this place.

  She looked up and saw a face she didn’t recognize in the mirror. It was her own face, of course, but it didn’t seem like it belonged to her. She looked old, haggard, and worn-out from all the drudgery of keeping Sir Richard’s house—Sir Richard’s first wife’s house, she corrected herself. She could never shake that woman, not with all the portraits around the house haunting her, the eyes watching her every step. At least Cinderella had been sweet to her since that Christmas Eve dinner. It did make things somewhat easier, though they hadn’t exactly become friends. How could they, when Lady Tremaine resented her for being treated like a princess while she and her daughters were used like servants and degraded at every opportunity?

  It had already been a long day and Lady Tremaine still had all her housework to do, along with her daughters’. This had become the custom on the days Sir Richard was at court, and she was thankful no one in the household had alerted him to her little deception.

  As she made her way downstairs to start her day’s work she heard a knock at the front door. No one ever came to visit them, and so a sudden thrill washed over her. What if it was the Grand Duke to let her know Sir Richard had been killed? She instantly felt bad for thinking so.

  She opened the door and found three i
dentical women standing there. They were young women, but at the same time there was something ancient about them, giving them an odd look of timelessness. They were an indistinguishable trio of witches, with stark white faces and large, deep-set eyes that protruded bulbously from their heavily darkened sockets, which was in morbid contrast to their vividly painted cheeks and lips. Lady Tremaine didn’t know what to make of these women and thought perhaps they were traveling actors wishing to put on a display for the family.

  “Hello, ladies, may I help you?” she asked, looking them up and down. All three wore voluminous long black dresses cinched tightly at the waist, with bodices trimmed in silver, and sparkly golden flower arrangements in their black hair.

  “We are here to help you, Lady Tremaine,” said the woman in the middle. “My name is Lucinda, and these are my sisters, Ruby and Martha.” She motioned to her sisters in succession, with the eeriest smile Lady Tremaine had ever seen. But before Lady Tremaine could speak, Lucinda got the strangest look on her face, and within moments both of her sisters looked as if they were panic-stricken. “My sisters and I sense that you have a servant here by the name of Nanny, is that true? Please tell us you haven’t given her your brooch. We don’t see you wearing it,” she said, trying to peer into the house, her eyes wide like a wild bird.

  Lady Tremaine was taken aback. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she said. “And how do you know about my brooch?” She reached for it and was surprised to find it wasn’t there, then remembered she always took it off to do the housecleaning. “Who exactly are you women?” she asked. Something about them made it hard for her to keep her thoughts straight. She kept feeling as if she was trying to bring herself out of a haze after each time they spoke.

  “Oh, this is a small kingdom, my lady,” said Lucinda, cackling to herself under her breath.

  “Yes, very small,” said Ruby.