You see, I was only five when my father died. I don't remember much about him, honestly, but I do remember liking him. And that he was tall. Well, I don't know if I actually remember that or I just assume it because Muriel and I are tall.
We were happy for a while. Four years we were fine on our own. At least, I was. I didn't realize then how quickly we were running out of money. But then Sir Eccles came along with his big horses and his fancy carriage and mother was sold. She married him right off for his money. We moved to his estate, leaving everyone and everything we knew behind us. He dragged us to that horribly over-elegant house and introduced us to his daughter.
Ella. Sure, she was nice, I guess. But Sir Eccles adored her. She had the most beautiful dresses. He gave her everything she could ask for. Really. One time we were playing market together. She asked me if I would sell her a ruby-covered pet parrot. I told her I was all out of ruby parrots but I had a few emeralds left. Sir Eccles must have overheard because a few months later a man showed up at the estate with a bright red parrot with a ruby-studded collar on it.
And then one day he wasn't there anymore and Ella was living in the cellar with the rats and I was wearing her dresses. Sure, she was three years older than me, but like I said, I've always been tall. And she was small.
Muriel and Mother told me that Ella was to be our servant from then on. She did all the washing, the cooking, the cleaning. She helped us get ready for parties. One time when she was dressing me I yelled at her because she covered my new dress with cinders from the fire I had just ordered her to start. I was so angry that I called her Cinderella. Muriel loved it, and the name stuck.
I think deep down I knew the way I treated her was wrong, but that's what Mother and Muriel did, so that's what I did. I didn't have any reason to question them.
I remember very clearly the day we heard about the balls the king was holding for the prince. How could I forget it? Ever since Sir Eccles had brought us to his estate Mother had talked about us marrying into the royal family. We could see the palace from our land. One of, it didn't matter which, would marry the prince and take her to the palace to live with us. We'd be rich and powerful and beautiful and queens.
For a child, it was a nice dream. For her, it was a goal. It wasn't until much later that I found out how much she had done to get to know the right people. She had even met the late queen once.
So when the herald arrived with the invitations to the balls, it was business as usual. Mother had dresses made, the finest we'd ever had. She got out her most beautiful jewels. Muriel got most of them. She was seventeen then, much closer to the prince in age than I was, but I got some pretty ones too, just in case, Mother said.
We thought Ella was crazy when she asked Mother if she could come with us. But then she showed up at the ball in her beautiful gown and those ridiculous glass slippers. I still don't understand what she was thinking. And then just as quickly she was gone.
Mother was furious that some girl would win over the prince and then just run off like that. Three nights in a row, no less. She had no idea that girl was our own Ella. So when she heard that the prince would marry the girl who fit that stupid glass slipper she had left behind, she came up with her plan.
The prince came. The shoe didn't fit. I was a bit sad, but not surprised. Being tall is great when you're trying to see over a crowd, but it's less helpful when you're trying to fit your proportionate feet into a tiny piece of glass. That was it for me. I never imagined Mother would go so far to achieve her goal of living in the palace.
I was twelve years old when my mother cut off my toe.
I left Sir Eccles' estate after that. The physician who cared for me when my foot got infected took me in. He tried to get me to engage with the nobility, go to balls and parties, and find a dutiable match for my birth, but after Ella married the prince, glass slippers become the must-have accessory. I hated them. Not only were the uncomfortable, but there was no way of hiding my marred foot. And every time I looked down, I felt ashamed. Ashamed of my feet, ashamed of Mother, ashamed of myself for following her.
I've found peace in the years since then. I married a cobbler from a neighboring village. He had heard the story of the new princess -- Cinderella and her wicked stepsisters. So when my guardian told him about me living with him, he asked if he could make a pair of boots for me as payment for his services. We met when he came to measure my feet for the design. He managed to bring balance to my heart as well as my body.
But I still don't like dancing in glass slippers.
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