Happily Ever After: Fractured Fairy Tale Anthology

by Dana Piazzi

  Synopsis:

  From princesses and princes, to witches, ice queens, imaginary friends, and dorks, Happily Ever After: The Write More Publications Fractured Fairy Tale Anthology has it all! Seven unforgettable stories by seven talented authors! Some stories are fractured takes on classics, while others are originals that will stay with you long after you've turned the last page!

  Featured Authors: Dana Piazzi, Jordan Hancock, Kim Stevens, Elaine White, Vanessa Hancock, Michelle Feury, and Stephanie Parke

  Happily Ever After

  Write More Publications

  Copyright © 2016 of stories are as follows: The True Story of Ella and Prince Charming’s Brother, Dana Piazzi; Imaginary Friends, Jordan Hancock; Blue Bird, Kim Stevens; Khloe and the Seven Dorks, Elaine White; The Legend of the Ember Bark Tree, Vanessa Hancock; Guardian, Michelle Feury; Frost Bite, Stephanie Parke

  E-book Edition

  First Edition

  Published by Write More Publications

  All rights reserved. The reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without permission of Write More Publications, writemorepublications@gmail.com.

  First Write More Publications Printing 2016

  All the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All work is from the imagination of the author.

  All rights reserved.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-Book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Front Cover Pic: Depositphotos

  Contents:

  The True Story of Ella and Prince Charming’s Brother, By: Dana Piazzi

  Imaginary Friends, By: Jordan Hancock

  Blue Bird, By: Kim Stevens

  Khloe and the Seven Dorks, By: Elaine White

  The Legend of the Ember Bark Tree, By: Vanessa Hancock

  Guardian, By: Michelle Feury

  Frost Bite, By: Stephanie Parke

  The True Story of Ella and Prince Charming’s Brother, By: Dana Piazzi

  Chapter 1

  My story has been told countless times and in many ways, but the fairy tale always sounds better on paper. It is less magical when told about a grumpy fairy godmother, or a prince that’s not so charming. For the record, there were no talking rodents, either. In any case, I have decided that it’s time to tell the truth and nothing but the truth.

  I was born Lady Ella. I was not a princess, but the daughter of a respectable Duke and a warm and loving Duchess. When I was eight years old, my mother died. Unsure of how to handle a young daughter, my father remarried rather quickly. I’m not sure he loved her, but he thought I needed a mother. Why she needed to have two daughters of her own, I have no idea, but let’s just say we never hit it off.

  Lady Black, now the Duchess Edwina, was cold and reserved upon meeting me. I think she didn’t like having the competition for my father’s attention. Her daughters, Kerra and Darcy were mean and spiteful girls, who thought they would be my father’s little girls. They didn’t quite appreciate that he already had one. Truly, though, I can’t put all the blame on them. I wasn’t quite happy to have a new stepmother or two stepsisters either. I can’t say I went out of my way to make them feel welcome.

  For the next two years, we managed not to be openly hostile with each other. We never fought, but we remained reserved. Then tragedy struck. My father was killed in a carriage accident and I was left alone with Edwina, Kerra, and Darcy. You know how the story goes in those days. With no male heir, the title was passed on to a distant cousin and we moved out of the estate. We were given a modest allowance and a small townhouse in London.

  The cold war between the Duchess, her daughters, and me escalated into a hot hatred and my life has changed ever since. Instead of being served, I became a servant. I polished the silver, cleaned, and cooked. Believe me, they didn’t make it easy on me, either. They complained about everything. The food was too bland, the food was too spicy, the fire wasn’t hot enough, or it was too cold. You’d think their names were Goldilocks (who, by the way, is a perfectly nice girl and not at all the complainer they made her out to be).

  While my stepmother found joy in making my life hell, Kerra and Darcy enjoyed turning up the heat. They tripped me, pulled my hair, and bumped into me at will. Anything to make the cleaning harder. There was a particular incident while I was cleaning up the fireplace and was carrying the ash bucket downstairs. Darcy stuck out her foot in front of me, causing me to lose my balance. I fell and the ashes flew out of the bucket, most of them landing on me. The laughter that ensued… From then on, I was no longer just Ella. I was forever known as Cinderella.

  Chapter 2

  Years passed, and God knows why I stayed in that house, but I suppose I just didn’t know what was out there for me, if I left. Some of the childish pranks the girls played on me had stopped, but the cruelty continued. When I looked into the mirror, I saw nothing of the girl I once was. Thin and bony from all the work I did, my hair lay in tangles around my face. The color washed out, and my skin pasty. I looked at the new girl and tried to find the old me. One day, Edwina saw me examining myself. A cruel smile crossed her face as she witnessed my despair…and then she took my mirror.

  I had given up hope and become the mindless drone they wanted me to be. I lived to serve, or served to live. I was no longer sure which one. When I was seventeen, my stepsisters had their coming out. They took my rightful place as the daughter of a duke in society. It might have been exciting creating the dresses they wore, or doing their hair, if they had been thankful for it. Instead, they would change shoes and deem that the dress was now too long, or not long enough.

  I longed to rip the dresses off them and don one myself. I wanted to dress up and go to a ball. Especially the prince’s ball. From what I gleaned, in listening to Darcy and Kerra, he was the most handsome man, and the castle was the grandest. I saw, for a minute, my way out of this life, and secretly planned to attend after I got them ready.

  Once they were dressed, I snuck up to my room and pulled out a trunk of my mother’s old clothes. Of course the gown would be outdated, but it was the only thing I had that was ball appropriate. I slid into the silky blue gown, and artfully piled my hair on my head. After pinching my cheeks for color, I went downstairs. My step-family was getting into the carriage and I raced to join them. To say they were displeased, was an understatement.

  “You can’t go to the ball,” Edwina explained, her voice as cold as ice. “You have not entered society.”

  “The invitation said all marriage-able young women were to attend,” I said in defense.

  “Yes, but you’re not marriage-able,” Darcy rang in.

  “I am so! I’m eighteen, and the daughter of a duke!”

  “You are nothing!” Edwina hissed.

  Kerra stepped forward and pushed me. Then I was being attacked. My hair was pulled, as it was when I was a kid. My mother’s lovely dress was torn. There was no reason for the des
truction except pure spite. For even with my work worn face and hands, I was much prettier than my stepsisters. I don’t say it to be intentionally spiteful, but Kerra’s overlarge nose and ears, and Darcy’s lazy eye, did not make them the catch of the season. Even if I didn’t attend the ball, it was doubtful the prince would choose them for marriage.

  When all the clawing and shouting stopped, they piled into the carriage and left. I remained on the ground, mourning the dress that was all I had left of my mother. Too upset to have even fought back. Maybe they were right; maybe I was nothing. I couldn’t even hold my own with two nasty girls and their aging and horrible mother. Nothing, I thought as a tear slipped from my overfilled eyes and dropped onto the blue dress.

  I looked as my teardrop began to glow. I lost my breath as the glowing orb raised off my dress and floated into the air in front of me. The glowing grew brighter, filling the night sky with a glorious light. The light began to fade and left in its place was a sweet and kindly looking old lady. Wings protruded from her back and my jaw dropped open.

  “Wh-wh-who are you?” I stuttered out.

  She smiled peacefully and said, “Why, my dear child, I am your fairy godmother.”

  My disbelief got the best of me. “There’s no such thing as a fairy godmother,” I said.

  The woman’s smile fell off her face and her jaw tightened. “Look, girl, I’ve got wings, I have a wand, and I appeared out of nowhere. What else do you think I am?”

  “I’m sorry,” I tried to apologize, but she completely ignored me and began complaining under her breath.

  “Geez, you try to do a good deed, and help some young girl, and all you get is doubt.”

  “I’m sorry!” I tried saying louder.

  “Whatever!” she replied. “I’m overworked and underpaid. So why are you crying?”

  “It’s my mother’s dress, and I wanted to go to the ball, so I could get out of this house,” I explained, brokenly. My eyes filled with tears again, and I looked up at the fairy.

  Her eyes remained frozen. It didn’t look like I was getting the kind old lady back. “Poor you! Bibbidy, bobbidy, boo-hoo!” she mocked me. I dried my tears, unable to take her cruelty on top of everything else. I stood up to leave.

  She huffed out a breath. “Okay, as your fairy godmother, I am here to change your life. You will have your chance to go to the ball, and perhaps snag yourself a prince. You might even fall in love, but the spell will only last until midnight. I am not liable for any mishaps after the stroke of twelve o‘clock. You must get back to your place of residence before that time or you will appear as you do right now to anyone around you. Do you agree to these terms and conditions?”

  It was a lot to take in, and I still felt a little like I was the target of a practical joke. I looked around for a moment for some sort of sign of trickery, while the fairy tapped her pointed shoe. “I agree,” I said finally.

  She waved her wand and tendrils of sparkly magic poured from its tip. The brightness of the magic blinded me momentarily and I closed my eyes. When the sparks ended, I stood in a beautiful blue dress. It contained similarities with my mother’s, the beaded bodice and the full skirt. There was a royal blue carriage sitting in front of my house, complete with a driver.

  “Are they real?” I asked.

  “As real as anything. Until midnight,” she added.

  She flicked her wand once more, and a large mirror stood in front of me. There I could fully appreciate the workings of her spell. My hair no longer appeared lifeless and dingy. It gleamed as if there were strands of moonlight woven through my shiny blonde hair. My face had a radiant glow, and the royal blue gown fell to my feet, which were bare at the moment. I looked back up at her in question.

  “Oh, right. I forgot the shoes.” With a flick of the wand, a pair of glass slippers appeared on my feet.

  I felt like a new person. “Thank you so much. I feel so beautiful. You did a wonderful job.”

  “I know. I am the best,” she said knowingly. Apparently, she didn’t have a drop of humility in her, but maybe that was just how fairy godmothers were. I shrugged my shoulders.

  As I got settled into the carriage, she leaned inside. “If you were pleased with these services, don’t forget to let my boss know, by filling out this comment card,” she said, handing me a piece of paper. Then she disappeared and the driver started the journey to the castle.

  “Am I dreaming?” I asked absolutely no one, out loud.

  Chapter 3

  When we arrived at the castle, I left the comment card inside the carriage. I would get to it later. The ball had already begun, so I snuck in without introduction. Darcy was right; the castle was magnificent. The ballroom was as large as our whole townhouse. Beautiful people danced in circles on the floor. I looked to see if I could tell which one was the prince, but had no luck.

  “Would you care to dance?” a gentleman approached me and asked.

  I looked at the man in question and was blown away. If, indeed, the prince was the most handsome man at the ball, this would have been him. He had black wavy hair, and blue eyes that matched my gown. His cheekbones were sharp and his jaw was strong and chiseled. It was now or never; my only chance to get away from my step-family.

  “I would love to,” I responded.

  I realized as he placed his hand at my side and his other hand held mine, I had no idea how to dance. I hadn’t been raised to join society. I grimaced as I stumbled, and he smiled at me in encouragement.

  “You’re doing fine. Keep going,” he said.

  After a few struggling steps, he led me expertly around the dance floor. Unlike me, he knew how to dance, and I felt swept away by the moment.

  “So, tell me, how did I not notice you when they were introducing all the guests?” he asked.

  “I arrived late,” I explained.

  “Definitely better late than never,” he commented.

  I smiled at him. He looked awestruck. “You are really quite beautiful,” he said.

  If anything, my smile grew wider. “Thank you. You are quite dashing, yourself.” He spun me around, and I laughed as I became dizzy. “Thank you for helping me dance. If you couldn’t tell, I have no experience.”

  “I couldn’t tell. To be honest, an elephant could have flown in through the balcony, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Not with you in my arms.”

  I blushed in response.

  We finished the one dance, and then danced another. “You will have to dance with someone else next,” he explained.

  “Why?” I asked, not wanting to leave him.

  “People will assume we are courting or engaged, if we dance together any longer,” he explained.

  “It’s okay,” I said, naively. “I am eligible for marriage.” No matter what my step mother said.

  “I‘m sure you are. Perhaps it is I who am unsuitable for marriage. I wish you well, my dear lady,” he said and bowed as our dance ended.

  I wanted to reach out as he walked away. No one treated him as if he were the prince, but he seemed gentle and he was definitely handsome. I would be happy to marry him instead. As long as I could still leave my home, I didn’t need a prince. I was about to follow him, but another gentleman came up to me and asked for a dance.

  I was a little more confident than I was in the beginning, and no one seemed to notice my lack of dancing skills. Four more gentleman asked me to dance before a hush surrounded me, and a man dressed in the finest clothing approached me. Everyone looked on as he asked me for the next dance. At first, I thought it might be the same man I danced with when I first arrived; the one who stole my heart when he ignored my ignorance. He had the same black wavy hair and blue eyes, but there was a haughty look on this face, and his chin was weaker. When I placed my hand into his outstretched one, he lacked the strength of my first dance partner, too. As handsome as this man was, I felt nothing. Still, I allowed him to lead me across the dance floor as the others watched from the sides.

  “Did you know that y
ou are the most beautiful young woman here tonight?” he asked.

  “Thank you,” I said politely.

  “As the prince, I am looking for a bride. I had to dance with you to find out if you were as beautiful close up as from across the room.”

  I remained silent, unsure of what to say.

  “You are,” the prince continued.

  “Thank you?” I said, still wondering where he was going with his comments.

  “We will make a fine looking couple!”

  “We will?”

  “Of course we will! So what do you say?”

  “What are you asking me?”

  I might have been acting deliberately obtuse. Part of me was rejecting what he had implied. This prince was not how I hoped he would be. I couldn’t help but compare him to the gentleman who I met earlier. The prince’s attitude was cavalier and spoiled. He knew nothing about me, but wanted to marry me for my looks. Flattering as that should be, his proposal was lacking.

  He bowed before me and I could detect mockery in his movements. I didn’t believe that the prince was truly bowing before me in respect. Instead, I felt foolish and belittled. Taking my hand, he asked the question, “Dear lady, would you do me the supreme honor of being the next princess?”

  The words from his mouth rang with faint sarcasm, but alas, beggars could not be choosers. From the corner of my eye, I could see Edwina pushing her way toward us, a scowl on her face. I had to make a decision, so I jumped in head first. “Yes! Yes, I will marry you.”

  As I said that, the clock bells began to toll. I looked up and saw that midnight had arrived. I had forgotten the rules while I danced merrily, and I had forgotten that I was just under a spell. Soon, he would see me for who I really was and retract his proposal. I had to make my escape before he did; before I was the laughingstock of the kingdom.

  “I’m sorry; I must go. I can’t marry you! I’m sorry,” I apologized as I ran out of the ballroom and down the stairs. At the bottom, I stumbled in my hurry and my shoe flew off my foot. There was no time to retrieve it, and I thought it really didn’t matter since in a matter of seconds, it would disappear. I threw myself into the waiting royal blue carriage, and we pulled away from the castle and my only chance at escape.