Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 3)
Read Cinders & Ash: A Cinderella Story (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 3) Online
Authors: Rosetta Bloom
A Cinderella Story
By Rosetta Bloom
Many of our favorite fairy tales from childhood, such as the
Princess and the Pea
,
Beauty and the Beast
and
Cinderella
, originated centuries ago. Over the years, they’ve been told and retold by different authors in different mediums, each retelling adding its own new spin. Here, we take these classic tales and give them a spin that is full-on sexy. While these tales are not the bedtime stories you would ever read to a child, they are definitely meant to be enjoyed in bed. These retellings preserve the base of the story, but add a few new twists and include passion, lust, and the fulfillment of carnal desires. I hope you enjoy them.
May your love always be in bloom,
-Rosetta
The original tale of a girl named Cinderella was written by Charles Perrault in 1697 and varies greatly from this one. However, the basics of the story — a wicked stepmother, a beset upon girl who is kind and gentle, and a prince who falls in love with that beautiful girl — remain. I hope you enjoy this iteration of the Cinderella, with a dose of passion.
-Rosetta Bloom
Would you like an exclusive FREE short story? You can get the
Dream Trysts
companion story,
Finding Bliss
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Ella
had delivered the sketches of plants to Mr. Halliwell, the owner of the apothecary. She’d done this today, as discreetly as she had on any delivery day for the previous six months. He’d paid her a small sum, which she had tucked in her shoe, so her family wouldn’t know about it. When she first started doing this, walking with the coin squeezed into her already tiny shoes had been hard. But Ella was used to it now. In fact, she enjoyed the discomfort just a bit. It was a reminder of her plan. That if she could just save enough money, she could get away from her evil stepmother and stepsisters.
“Ella,” she heard a voice call out, and turned to see her friend Faye running toward her through the crowded town market. Faye was a stout girl who’d had a life as full of tough breaks as Ella’s. They’d become fast friends, confiding in each other the mutual miseries of life. While they shared misery, Ella did recognize that she had it better than Faye. Ella’s father had been noble. Even though Ella was banished to the cold north tower to sleep and treated like a servant, the home she lived in was much nicer than any part of the meager dwelling Faye occupied. Like Ella, both of Faye’s parents were dead. But unlike Ella, Faye had lived in a home for orphans and just recently moved into her own little room in a boarding house. Faye was a little older than Ella, but as resilient as the wind and willing to give anyone a chance, so long as they did right by her.
That was one of the reasons why Faye was Ella’s best friend. Ella had had a tough time making friends. Her stepmother rarely let her hang about and chatter with friends, the way she let her own daughters. Ella’s stepsisters had friends and attended social events, so they might find a suitable husband while Ella was left to do household chores and errands. But Ella was not sad about that, for if the rest of the girls were as vapid as her stepsister Bathilda, she was glad not to participate. And if her stepmother had been nicer, Ella might not have become friends with Faye, whose life was also mainly work.
Ella smiled and started toward Faye. She knew talking to Faye would make her late and her stepmother would be mad, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. If Faye needed something from her, she would offer it. Faye was really Ella’s only friend, and while her stepmother had taken so many things from Ella, she couldn’t take Faye away. This friendship was the only part of her life that Lady Kenna could not control.
Ella stopped in front of Faye, in the midst of the busy street. “Yes, Faye,” Ella said, a smile on her pink lips, her cheeks a little flush from the heat of the late summer day. Faye shook her head, grabbed Ella by the arm, and pulled her away from the heat and pungent odor of the crowds. People generally made way for Faye, for while she was short, she was quite wide and had a face like a bulldog, one that seemed ready to bite if crossed.
Faye tugged Ella into a little alley. Ella knitted her brows and gave her friend an expectant look. “What is it?” she asked.
Faye stood on her tippy toes to look over Ella’s shoulders. She apparently saw nothing to give her pause, but still spoke softly. “Ella, I think I know a way for you to save enough money to escape your family, like you want to. Save enough money in just a couple of weeks.”
Ella’s mouth popped open in shock. There was no way she could earn enough money in such a short period of time. Drawing the plants and earning money from Mr. Halliwell was a slow process. Her plans to start over in a kingdom far away required patience, and the willingness to leave with the most meager of sums. She had been sure it would take more than a year to save up. “What do you mean?” Ella asked.
“There’s a man, a man who is willing to pay girls for their time,” she said, her voice low. “He’ll pay them six King’s coins for a night of work.”
Ella narrowed her eyes and focused on Faye, trying to figure out the catch. There was definitely something wrong with that offer. That was a month of pay for a night of “work.” She gritted herself and asked, “What kind of work?”
Faye lowered her eyes for a moment, then looked up at her friend. “The kind of thing your stepmother tried to get you to do with that gentleman a few months ago.”
Ella balled her hands into fists and tried not to let the disappointment she felt morph into anger. She remembered the time her stepmother had told her a man was going to pay for the privilege of painting Ella. She’d been sent to Marigold’s bedroom to pose, which should have tipped her off. Only she had been naive then. She hadn’t realized, until he was asking her to disrobe and planting kisses on her neck, what he really wanted. She hadn’t realized what her stepmother, Lady Kenna, had really given him permission to do. She’d screamed, kneeing the man right in his dangly thing, and run out.
She ran straight to Lady Kenna and said, “I am not a prostitute and you won’t make me one. If you try again, I swear, the spirit of my dead father will haunt you for the rest of your life. For all the cruelty you commit to me now is within your rights. But what you just tried to do, is beyond your right and you will pay for all eternity if you ever try that again.”
She’d tried to sound brave and fearless. She supposed she must have sounded so, because Lady Kenna did not bring another man around to “paint” or do anything else to Ella. The idea of having sex with a strange man who simply wanted a body, not caring if it were hers or someone else’s, bothered her. She supposed she clung to the memories she had of her parents’ marriage: happy, kind, loving, and filled with mutual adoration.
Ella shook her head. “I can’t,” she sputtered. “Faye, you know I can’t do that.”
Faye frowned. “It’s a lot of money, Ella. It won’t be so bad to do it. And you’d be able to get away from that torture Lady Kenna heaps on you each day.”
Ella thought about her dream of walking out on that hag who had inherited all of her father’s estate, who had spent all that should have been hers. Part of her hated Lady Kenna for her cruelty, but part of her understood it. It was nearly impossible for noble women to earn money of their own. At least noble women who wanted to pretend they had the wealth to accommodate their station. They were dependent on men for everything, so when Ella’s father had died, Lady Kenna had to make sure she was taken care of, that her daughters were taken care of. That, Ella understood. What she didn’t understand was why Lady Kenna couldn’t include her in the family, why Ella couldn’t benefit from the largesse. She closed her eyes, breathed out. She’d had Lady Kenna as a stepmother and Marigold and Bathilda as stepsisters, for the last nine years and withstood it well enough.
A few months ago, Ella had gotten lucky by running into Mr. Halliwell in the woods near her home. She was drawing a bird on some scraps of paper she’d saved, when she spotted Mr. Halliwell stooped over collecting plants to use in his medicines. When he saw how well she’d drawn the bird, he asked if she could sketch some plants for him. He was training his sons to apprentice him, but knew that the oldest wanted the current business, while the youngest planned to open an apothecary in a town further over that had no such shop. He wanted to give the youngest information to take with him, but his arthritis had made it impossible for him to draw anything. Halliwell had agreed to pay her to draw some of the herbs he used, and then his son would write the pertinent information beneath it. Mr. Halliwell didn’t pay a lot, but it was more than nothing, which is what Ella received from Lady Kenna. So, she’d happily taken the assignment. And if he kept assigning her plants to draw, she’d have enough money to leave. “I’m already halfway to my goal, Faye. Thank you, but I don’t need this.”
Faye frowned. “I thought at least one of us could get out,” she said.
“Why don’t you do it, Faye?” Ella asked encouragingly.
Faye shook her head, looked down at her feet. “You know why, Ella. I’m not pretty. Not like you. You’ve got the most gorgeous blonde hair ever, big bosoms, a nice figure. You’d be perfect for this. The man told me he needed a pretty girl. He laughed when I suggested me, but I told him I’d send my friend instead. And it’s not like it would be riff-raff. Apparently, a cousin of the King or something is visiting and wants some companionship.”
Ella stared at Faye. That was interesting. A royal relation who wanted a prostitute. “And where was I supposed to go?” she asked, more out of curiosity than any intention to go.
“He said to meet at the rear castle gate at 11 o’clock tonight, and to say that you were Faye’s friend who wanted to inquire about royal nuts.”
Ella couldn’t help but laugh. That was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “Faye,” she said. “Are you sure he wasn’t foolin’ on you?”
Faye shook her head. “No, he’s a royal servant. I seen him before.” She paused, then added, dreamily, “He wears such fine clothing. It always looks so soft and warm and clean. Not like the stuff we wear.”
Ella nodded. She knew of such clothes. They were the kind that Lady Kenna, Bathilda and Marigold wore. Fine, expensive and not for her. She sighed and tilted her head skyward. It was a dark orangish purple. The sun was setting. She grabbed Faye, wrapping her arms as much around her stout friend as she could. “Thank you for thinking of me for this, but I can’t. And I have to get home or Lady Kenna will have my hide.”
Faye nodded. Ella pulled away and ran toward home. She had to hurry.
