You know my story. Or rather, you think you know my story.
The story of the poor little girl whose mother died when she was young and her father remarried. Who became little more than a servant in her own home after the death of father. You think my fairy godmother or perhaps the spirit of my late mother in a tree blessed me so that I went to the ball and met the prince, fell in love, and lived happily ever after.
I suppose, all in all, that's not a bad story, if you like that kind of thing, but it's not my story.
For one thing, I was a servant in my father's household long before he died. Which if I had known more about his relationship with my stepmother, would not have surprised me. What might surprise you is that I did not mind my life or feel ill-abused. My stepmother and stepsisters were not cruel to me. They simply made sure I knew my place.
Of the three girls, I was the youngest, though I'd been an only child before them. Jacquelyne was older than me by three years, while Kathryn only had six months on me. We even played together when we were children, though I suppose I was always the one who had to clean up after and carry whatever was needed. And when we played tea time, I was always the maid, but then, I wanted to be the maid.
Things changed on my eighteenth birthday. It was at breakfast, which I did not serve that day but sat at the table, that I was informed of my new position by my stepmother. "Cynthia, happy birthday! And now that you are an adult, I am happy to tell you that you will no longer be sleeping with the servants. You will now be Jacquelyne's personal maid and sleep in the alcove in her room. Isn't that wonderful?"
I blinked as I looked at my stepmother and then at Jacquelyne. My eldest stepsister was positively beaming at me. "Of course you'll wait on Kathryn too, until she gets a maid of her own, but you'll be mostly mine."
"My birthday present is to be given to Jacqueline?" A thrill ran through me at the idea of belonging to my stepsister.
Isabella, my stepmother, nodded. "Yes. A permanent position which means you get to travel with us to court and will be doing less hard work. You should be quite happy."
"I am. Thank you."
***
Jacquelyne had always been nice to me. And she was a beautiful girl, now woman, with long dark hair, green eyes, and just enough plump to show that our family was well off. I knew being her maid was an enviable position, but that as the daughter of an influential merchant I should probably want more, but I was happy.
I was surprised the first time it happened. I was doing up the buttons on one of Jacqueline's gowns, and I had gotten off-cross buttoned one near the top and not noticed until I was almost finished. Of course that meant I had to undo all of them and start all over.
"Oh! I...I'm so sorry, I misbuttoned. I have to start over." I began to undo all the buttons. They were so small and so many that it was going to take a while, and I knew my fingers would be sore afterward.
"Stupid girl!" I blinked, my hands pausing. She'd never called me stupid before. "Well, hurry up about it! I don't have all day to waste because of your worthless incompetence."
"I...Jacqueline, I'm..." I hurried, though my fingers fumbled, surprised by her anger.
"Do not call me that!"
"Y...yes, Miss." I found myself blinking back tears as I got the buttons undone and then done up right, all the while listening to her rant.
"We were far too lenient with you as children. Oh, we tried to train you, but Mom said a gentle hand would be more effective than being harsh. I knew we should have broken you, though I do like how happy you are to know your place. But you are ridiculously clumsy. I swear to you, worthless thing, if you do not improve quickly, I will find a new maid and you can go back to the servants' quarters. Like I'd be caught dead at court with such an useless piece of garbage rather than a real maid."
I gulped past the knot in my throat. "I'm done, Miss. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I'll get better, I promise."