A Slip of Fate: Adult Retelling of Cinderella (Twisted Fairy Tale) Read online

He spun her around again and this time her eyes caught movement to their left. The handsome stranger was there once more, observing them. There was something intense about his gaze, and he tilted his head. In a single gesture, he seemed to tell her he was there for her and was comforting enough to break the haze in her mind.

  “How did you know my name?”

  He stroked her chin once more, a feral smile appearing on his face. This was the gaze of the wolf before it descended on the rabbit. Panic surged through her as she realized something was very, very wrong. With effort beyond her normal strength, she pried herself from his arms, stumbling back. Tripping over the hem of her dress, the ground move out from under her. But before she could hit it, the stranger was there behind her catching her around the waist and keeping her upright. He was firm and warm, unlike the other man who had been cold. And this second man, with his hands around her waist, seemed to emulate a heat that warmed right through her body.

  “You should not be here,” the cold stranger advanced on them[L30].

  Making her heart leap in her chest. She pressed further back into the man's chest behind her and his arms tightened. The warm stranger did not say anything, he continued to hold and protect her.

  “She is mine.” The man spoke again, stepping closer to her and reached [L31]for her possessively.

  She shrank back more[L32] into the warmth, almost praying his body might devour her.

  "No."

  Finally, he spoke, and his voice was as husky as his appearance, gravelly and barely in control as he glared at the other man. He released Finn, moving his body between hers and her dance partner. In this moment of freedom Finn's mind spun, trying to keep up with what was happening. She had gone her entire life invisible to men and now here were two fighting over her. Not just two men either, two people whose very presence made something inside of her twist and knot.

  She pulled away, sprinting for the front door. Stumbling into the warm glow of the lanterns lining the front steps, she descended them with only one intention in her mind: get as far away from here as possible. As she disappeared into the darkness, she found herself growing more comfortable. Her heightened senses seemed to calm as the dark surrounded her, protecting her from the eyes of both men. They would not see her out here; she was safe – for now. Collapsing onto the grass Finn held a hand to her chest, sensing how rapidly her heart was beating. The cool, demanding touch of the first stranger still lingered on her while the warmth of the second heated through her in recall.

  She tried to replay everything that had happened; she tried to make sense of the whole evening. Searching for answers to explain what she was feeling and what had happened. Ariadne had insisted on her looking her best this evening, but she always demanded perfection. It was part of their image. [L33]There were less mysterious guests tonight than normal, but she could not attribute to anything else unusual. Maybe there was another party this evening.

  Well, that would’ve been unusual… Everyone knew better than to host a party the same night as a Foster party.

  Finnleigh shifted, tugging her dress higher up her legs so she could settle more comfortably in the soft grass. The echo of the fabric ripping made her stop for a moment before she chuckled to herself. It was a bizarre reaction, but before she knew it, she was laughing so hard she could not stop herself. Her hands made quick work of the rest of the slit, tearing it right to her hip as she flopped backward into the grass, staring at the sky. She continued to giggle deliriously to herself until the sound of snapping branches sobered her.

  Her entire body tensed, listening for the sound again, all thoughts of the earlier danger melted away. Nothing was more real than the idea the wolves reported in the woods around the city were close to the manor. That was real danger, not strange men holding a pissing contest to claim her. She remained frozen on the ground, her eyes trained on the sky as she prayed whatever noises she was hearing were echoes from a distance. She relaxed a fraction when the branches cracked again and this time she watched in her peripheral vision as a dark creature made his way over to her. She remained frozen, her body on edge as it approached her. A wet nose ran along her arm as it sniffed her, testing if she was alive or dead.

  She shifted her vision enough to take in the monster looming over her and their eyes met. He whimpered, laying and resting his massive head on her stomach. She let out a small gasp, and his head shifted enough so her fingers brushed through his fur. Testing his demeanor, she moved her fingers a fraction, before she dared move them and stroke him with genuine abandon.

  “You won’t hurt me right?” she whispered to him, his large yellow eyes turned to her.

  She could’ve sworn he shook his head, but she did not have a good enough angle to tell.

  "Good," she sighed, relaxing more as she looked back to the sky and watched the stars. "You're lucky, you know?"

  Her fingers absently found his ear, scratching the spot most dogs adored. He proved to be no different, leaning into her fingers and begging for a rougher scratch. This creature was no monster despite the stories she heard of the wolves from the woods by others in the city. In fact, something about him seemed to calm her.

  She chuckled as she continued to absently talk to him, "I imagine the freedom you have, the sensation of the wind in your hair… That is indescribable. And something you would not give up for the world."

  She turned to him[L34], realizing how insane she was to be talking to a wolf like he could understand her. But something about him was familiar, something about him made her feel safe. It was as though he had heard her broken heart and came to comfort her.

  “I would give my whole world up for a moment of freedom.”

  She whispered as she observed a shooting star dive across the sky before disappearing. She knew it was talk though, she dreamed of escape, but it always played out the same. She did not leave – they did[L35].

  In the distance, back at the manor, the lights grew brighter as the valets pulled the cars around the drive. People descended from the house and climbed in, others were walked out by their partners, others having to be escorted by servants who had been charged with driving them home. She sighed as she rose from her spot, the wolf's head merely slipping into her lap[L36] as she did. She scratched his ears once more before shaking her head.

  "I need to go before my stepparents notice I left. The last thing I need is to be chewed out for running out on their more notable guests."

  The wolf whimpered and set his paws on her, holding her as she tried to rise[L37]. But his eyes were not inspecting her anymore, they were on the front steps as more guests made their way out. The glint of the cold stranger's white hair reflected from this distance, he paused, looking around. For a moment Finnleigh swore he saw her, staring back at them before he descended into a waiting car. Both the wolf and herself watched it circle the drive before pulling away, and the wolf removed his weight from her. She stared at it curiously for a moment before leaning over to kiss the top of its head.

  “Thank you, friend,” she gave him a farewell pat before rising [L38]to return home[L39].

  Chapter 2

  Waking the next morning had the night before feeling like a dream. Finn groggily pulled herself from bed and forced herself to wash the events of last night off before descending for breakfast. The day after parties were always interesting. Depending on how the night had gone dictated the mood of her stepparents. She wondered if her dance and subsequent behavior had made their way into their gossip circle and if she would be hearing a lecture about it from them. Pulling a simple cotton dress over her head she tied the belt at the back before heading downstairs into the dining room.

  “Finnleigh! I’m glad you’re up, be a dear and get a pot of coffee for us,” Ariadne’s smile was light and loving but there was a venomous undertone to her words.

  The party was over and her place in this family was back to normal – at the bottom. Finn smiled and nodded, playing along mostly because if she incurred the wrath of her stepmother,
Julian would be quick to jump to his wife’s defense even if she was the hateful hag who had started it. That was just how these things worked nowadays. Heading into the kitchen, she started the water to boil and stood looking out over the grounds[L40]. She thought back to the wolf last night and its strange behavior. How had it known she wanted to avoid the blonde stranger[L41]? Why hadn’t it attacked her? Last night, all in all, she decided, was strange. It was probably better to put it behind her and try not to dwell on it too much. In the end it would probably just drive her insane because she would never figure out the answers.

  “Morning Finn, love,” the matronly kitchen servant, Naomi, smiled at her as she brought a dirtied pot over to the sink. “How was the party?”

  An all-knowing smirk formed on the older lady’s mouth as she turned the water on and poured it into the pot. Naomi was well acquainted with Finn’s distaste for the parties her stepparents held and was even more well acquainted with the commentary that always seemed to follow these parties when she was forced to attend.

  “Strange,” she admitted, watching Naomi’s hands work as she scrubbed the pot in a mesmerizing circle. “One of the weird midnight guests forced me to dance with him, then another man I’ve never seen before tried to save me from him. Then…”

  She stopped as she realized how insane it all sounded. Finn ended up laughing once again, a disingenuous giggle before turning back to the stove.

  “Then what?” she turned to look at Naomi and smiled with a half-hearted shrug.

  “Nothing, it was just a strange night.”

  “I bet Ariadne hated the fact you had two men fighting over you. Not that I’m surprised.”

  “I’m still not sure how I feel about it. But I don’t think Mommy Dearest even saw.”

  “Probably for the best. Here are the coffee grinds.”

  Naomi held [L42]out the burlap bag as Finn transferred the boiling water into a French press. Naomi gathered the coffee set and placed it all onto a tray for her as she made the coffee. She watched the water turn colour[L43] absently before looking up again.

  “Is this the monkey shit one?”

  “No, the traders are held up at the port again apparently. Besides, you should know that one is only reserved for important guests.”

  “Ah, silly me.”

  They both grinned mischievously. They may or may not have frequently added rabbit droppings into the coffee which was made from the beans expelled in monkey shit, then cultivated it into coffee for pretentious rich people like her stepparents to drink and think they’re cultured. No one noticed the extra addition because frankly they’d done it right off the bat so Ariadne and Julian had never known any different. Finn picked up the tray and started back to the dining room.

  “When they’re done with you, I’ll have your breakfast waiting.”

  “Thanks Nai.”

  Finn reentered the dining room to find her family all deep in discussion about something. The moment one of her stepsisters spotted her though they unsubtly hushed the room. She arched one eyebrow as she set the tray down and began serving the coffee.

  “Did you have fun last night, love[L44]?”

  She glanced up at her stepfather, the only father she’d ever known after her own died when she was five[L45]. Followed mysteriously by her mother only a year after her marriage to Julius.

  “Very much, thank you for allowing me to go.”

  “Of course, you’re part of the family. You’re always welcome.”

  She smiled daintily, thinking to herself of the doubt she felt toward his sentiment while she filled one of the cups with cream until it was nearly white. ‘Just like the French’, as Ariadne insisted.

  “What did you think of Amedeo?”

  She looked up in surprise at the direct question. She glanced from her stepfather’s face to that of the rest of the family before looking back at him.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not sure who you’re talking about?”

  “The blonde gentleman you danced with.”

  “He… didn’t introduce himself to me. Was he supposed to?”

  “I suppose not, though he did ask for you.”

  Her hand quivered for a moment as she poured out the last cup of coffee. Did he mean that this Amedeo wanted her for the parlor room, to be a part of whatever hedonistic things went on behind those closed doors? It was one thing to have never been noticed by a man, but with that came certain other things as well. She’d always wondered what happened in the parlor after midnight but seeing the state of some of their patrons when they left was enough to hold her curiosity at bay. And whatever went on behind those doors she was almost certain all of it would make her blush and was outside of her area of expertise. Finn lost herself in thoughts of what that could possibly mean. She pictured for a moment what he would’ve, and could’ve, done to her body inside the parlour. Just her thoughts were enough to make her keep her distance even when the parties weren’t on; something about the room alone was enough to make her flee from it.

  “He didn’t mention anything, although he asked me to dance.”

  “Did you enjoy yourself? Must’ve been wonderful having a man show interest in you.” Ariadne chose to speak this time as Finn looked up at her again. She was smirking like she was pleased with the little dig she’d gotten in but Finn didn’t care. Not dating was her choice. [L46]

  At least, that’s what she told herself to make up an excuse for why she didn’t. Perhaps deep down inside she knew that Julius and Ariadne had final say on those things whether she liked it or not. And their final say, as of late, had been to keep her in the manor far away from any eligible men her age. Even the guest list didn’t include anyone under the age of twenty-five unless it was a trophy wife to some older man.

  “Beyond my wildest dreams,” she replied cheerily, grabbing the tray and hurrying back to the kitchen.

  It was rude to leave without being dismissed but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the strangeness of last night had been arranged on her stepparents’ part. What did it mean? They knew about this Amedeo and his presence last night had seemed oddly tied to her and nothing else. Horror swept through her at the idea that maybe they were deliberately trying to connect her with the stranger. Or maybe worse ; they were trying to set her up with him. She shuddered to think they were planning to sell her off to someone, no doubt in an attempt to make a good connection. She refused to be treated like an object that could be passed around. Well, she refused on principle but not participating was another thing. She hated how spineless [L47]she could become sometimes around her stepparents.

  She returned to the kitchen to find Naomi was gone again, but as promised a waffle breakfast was laid out for her with a berry compote topping. It was the same thing Naomi had made her since she was a child, something that still connected her to her real parents. She dug in, devouring the meal in only a few minutes knowing that it wouldn’t be long before her presence was requested again. She helped herself to the collection of exotic loose leaf teas Ariadne had and used the last of the hot water to make her drink.

  Sixty years ago [L48]this kitchen would’ve been state of the art, but Finnleigh knew now that it was borderline archaic. They didn’t do much to upgrade it after the Bloodbaths as her parents liked the vintage look that tied them to the past and Ariadne insisted the money was better spent elsewhere. As a result much of the equipment was old or outdated and what still worked was deemed a miracle while the rest of it had long been disposed of to make room for makeshift equipment. Her grandparents had installed a wood burning stove in the wall to make artisan dinners like pizza [L49]or bread, a novelty for a lot of houses back then, but now it was an object of gratitude in Naomi’s eyes. Without it making any kind of meal would’ve been difficult. [L50]Now the only novelty was pizza itself.

  Naomi did it so many times it appeared effortless, but attempting to try her own hand at it would no doubt result in disaster. If not for Naomi, Finn would’ve likely starved since she hated eating dinner
with her family. When she was invited, that is.

  Finn wasn’t a servant, per se, they had hired help for that. Ariadne often insisted that Finnleigh do her fair share of work around the house because “being the oldest she would one day be the lady of the house[L51].” It was complete and utter bullshit, as far as Finn was concerned, it was just Ariadne’s glorified way to boss her around and tell her what to do. Her entire life was dictated to her by her step parents who always seemed to know best. Julian went along with it because Ariadne ruled him with an iron rod and he rarely ever questioned her. He knew that it was important that Finn remained soft, unhardened by work for prospective suitors. Still he allowed his wife to boss her around without batting an eyelash [L52]to stop her.

  Dropping her dishes into the sink Finn paused to look out the window as a truck rolled up to gather all the plates and chairs from the night before. Every week her stepfather ordered something new to decorate the house, each week donning a new theme and thus new items. It was part of the importance of these parties, showing just how extravagant and wasteful he could be. Then again, however, Finn didn’t know any other life. There had never been a point in time where she had been any less rich [L53]than she was right now and having this amount of money to waste weekly on parties was nothing to their bank accounts. In fact, not spending this much money probably would’ve been stranger to her and yet not bothered her as much as it did.

  She was a hypocrite, she knew. But a silent hypocrite, which she assured herself was far better than letting people know what she really thought.

  Dunking her hands into the warm soapy wa1ter she grabbed her plate and started cleaning it off as she absently watched the workers. Several men jumped out of the truck and started toward the front door. One caught her eye making her lean into the soapy sink water to get a better view of him. She didn’t notice as the water soaked the edges of the three-quarter sleeves, her brow furrowed as she tried to place the face that she’d only caught a fleeting glance of. But he went up the steps and she lost sight of him.