Cinderella the Nude

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Cinderella the Nude

Postby jochanaan » Sun Dec 09, 2007 2:22 pm

Cinderella the Nude


One warm fall evening long ago and far away, a young woman in rags lay weeping under a hazel tree that stood over a clear pond. As the stars came out, her tears dried slowly, and she sighed. "Ah, if I could only see the castle from here!" And she set her hand on a low branch of the hazel tree.

"Is that all thy wish, my dear?" said a strange, soft voice behind her.

She froze, then turned. There stood a tiny, naked, white-haired woman, knee-high to the girl.

"Who are you?" whispered the young woman, kneeling the better to see the tiny creature.

"Thou mayst call me thy godmother," replied the little woman. Despite her white hair, all her flesh was as fair and smooth as the girl's, and her eyes were the color of hazelnuts. "I have watched over thee ever since thy mother, may she rest in peace, was buried under my tree. Tell me thy sorrows, child."

And the girl, an impulsive creature, told her all: how her mother had died when she was a baby and her father had married again; how he had died in battle when she was but five years old; how her stepmother and two stepsisters, both older than she, made her work from before dawn till after dusk every day; how she had no clothes but the rags her stepsisters threw away; how they called her Cindermaid or Cinderella because at day's end she would often simply collapse on the pile of cinders she had dug out of the kitchen fireplace, leaving her face, hands, bare feet and hair covered in black cinderdust.

"But that is not what makes me weep now!" she cried, and went on to tell how her stepmother had forced her to dance attendance on her stepsisters all that day, preparing their baths, ironing their dresses, and doing their hair and makeup, for tonight was the Prince's ball and all the eligible ladies of the kingdom were invited; how when finally everything was done and the stepsisters looked as good as their plain faces would allow, the girl had asked, hesitantly, if she could borrow a dress so she, too, might attend the ball; how just then the hired coachman called from outside, the stepmother said, "Come, Charlotte; come, Annette," and they all swept out the door; how Charlotte, the elder of the two sisters, cast a smirk over her shoulder as she closed the door. "And I thought, Godmother, if only I could see the castle I would be happy again!" Her eyes, that she had thought wept out, overflowed again.

Then suddenly she remembered how the godmother had referred to the hazel tree, the girl's favorite, as her own. She bowed her head before her and said humbly, "I am sorry I disturbed your tree."

"Oh, child, think nothing of that!" said the godmother. "It is not thy touch that brought me, but thy need; thine, and the kingdom's. -- How if I were to tell thee that thou wouldst dance at the castle tonight and become a Queen on the morrow?"

"I?" cried the girl. "In these rags? Tease me not, Godmother; I cannot bear it!"

But suddenly the godmother laughed. And laughed again, loud and long. "Oh, ye humans!" she cried, still laughing. "Ye always think of garments, as if the garments made the Princess, or the Prince! We fairies--!" She stopped short, then went on as if to herself, "I meant not to speak of this now. But mayhap 'tis for the best. Here." She looked into the girl's eyes. "Wilt thou be ruled by me this night? If thou will, I say that thou'lt indeed dance at the castle and become a Queen, soon if not on the morrow. Speak now!"

And the girl said, "I will," and felt a strange tingling of fear or joy, as if she had given herself to a quest she could not foresee.

The godmother smiled. "Well, girl, first cast off those rags." With a wild joy the girl tore off every threadbare scrap, ripping them into many pieces and throwing them to the winds. "Come, bathe thou in thy mother's pond." She plunged in with a great splash. The godmother pulled some soaproot and tossed it to the girl, and soon not a trace of cinderdust remained on her hands, face, feet or hair.

"Now bring thou me a pumpkin from the kitchen garden." She ran to obey, and when she had brought the largest one in the garden, the godmother whispered in the Old Tongue and touched it. In an instant there was a gilded coach where the pumpkin had been! "Now go to the manor and bring me any live mice thou find in the traps." Again the girl ran to obey, feeling wild and strange as she dashed naked through the house. In moments she returned to the godmother with six mice and a rat in her hands. Another whispered incantation and seven touches, and six white horses stood in the coach's harness and a coachman sat in the driver's seat.

"Come to my tree again," said the godmother, soberly now. At the hazel tree, the tree's fairy whispered in the Old Tongue again, then reached up and took out, apparently from under the girl's arms, two slippers made of golden cloth. When the slippers were on the girl's feet, the godmother looked into her eyes. "Harken, and beware!" she said, her voice heavy and commanding. "My gifts have no power past midnight; then the pumpkin, the mice and the rat will return to their true forms. Be sure thou return home before then. Forget not, and soon all will be as I have said. Now go."

"But, godmother," faltered the girl, "shall I--like this?" She spread her hands to indicate her nakedness.

"Dost trust me?" asked the godmother.

"Aye, but--aye." Suddenly the girl laughed. "I shall be a Queen, or be tossed in a dungeon no worse than the cinder-heap! What have I to lose?"

"Aye, what, indeed?" The godmother laughed with her, then sobered again. "One thing more. There is no danger of the dungeon for thee tonight, for all at the castle will see what they think to see--all except one, who will see thee as thou art. Now go; the Prince awaits." And as the girl set her hand to the coach's doors, the godmother called, "Farewell, Princess of Nude!"

* * *

"The Princess of Nude!" announced the chamberlain just as the entrée was served.

Heads turned, and gasped. Prince Justin thought he knew why. The Princess was a slender, incredibly beautiful girl no more than fifteen or sixteen years old; her hair flowed loose, and all she wore was a pair of golden slippers. But the rising whispers and murmurs told that the other courtiers and guests saw something very different. "Such a dress!" "Blue like the sea!" "Who does hair like that?"

There's sorcery afoot, thought the Prince. But he thought it was not the girl's doing; her face was smiling yet mask-like, as if her mind were a thousand miles away.

Servants set a place for her at the table for the eligible women, next to the daughters of Lady Anastasia Tremaine, whose husband Earl Jean Tremaine had died in battle these ten years past. She glided to the chair and sat. How is it, the Prince thought, that this girl is so much more graceful without clothes than any other in the most beautiful gowns the royal seamstresses can sew?

Then the Prince had to wait through the endless dinner formalities. He saw the daughters Tremaine simper at the new guest, who chatted with them as if she had known them all their lives. Artless girl, thought the Prince; from him, that was a high compliment.

Finally, the dinner was over. The Prince waved a footman over and told him, "Tell the Princess of Nude I would dance first with her," and the footman obeyed. So it was that, after the royal promenade, the Prince extended his hand and the supposed foreign princess took it. It was the fashion for women to wear gloves, but the Princess' hand was as naked as the rest of her except her feet appeared to be.

After the obligatory minuet, gavotte, pavane and gaillard, in which the Princess and Prince were always paired but never touched, the musicians struck up a waltz that some elders still thought scandalous because the partners actually held each other. The Prince extended his arms, but nearly froze in shock when he clasped the Princess' torso; despite the repeated compliments from others on her dress, his arm touched bare flesh! But long discipline as the King's heir made him give no sign to the court, flowing into the dance as he had many times before, but never with this much longing.

At last, whirling with her, he was able to engage in soft conversation. "How is it, Princess, that others see you in a blue dress?"

"I cannot tell, Your Highness," she whispered.

"Cannot," the Prince pressed, "or will not?"

"I may not," the Princess amended. "Ask me no more of it, I beg Your Highness."

"Very well. But how is it, then, that I see thee as thou art?"

Her face whitened, but only for a moment. Then she laughed as if the Prince had made a high jest. "Did not Your Highness hear his chamberlain announce me as the Princess of Nude? I appear this way for Your Highness' courtiers, lest a scandal put me in Your Highness' dungeon; but should not Your Highness see me as I am? What shame is it that I go as we all go in my lands?"

Now, the Prince knew very well that there was no Land of Nude, yet he decided to fall in with the jest. If this was sorcery, it was of a most enchanting kind. "Aye, Your Highness, but is it right that thou should show your bridegroom-to-be all your charms before he weds thee?"

She bowed her head as modestly as she could, still clasped in his arms. "Your Highness does his servant too much honor."

The Prince's heart beat wildly as they danced on. After many turns he spoke again, "My Highness can never do thee too much honor, nor near enough. Thou art fair beyond all measure, my lady Princess, and here I vow that none other will share my throne as Queen when I come into it."

With white face she stared at him. But just then the dance ended, and they separated formally and bowed to each other. And at that moment the castle bell began to toll midnight.

"No!" cried the Princess. "I must go!" And she spun and dashed across the hall to the front door.

The Prince was on her heels, crying "Wait! Wait!" But she heeded not as she leaped down the castle stairs, stumbling on the last one, and sprinted to a gilt coach and leaped inside as the coachman whipped his horses into a mad dash through the coachyard.

The Prince turned, thinking to summon riders--and saw a golden thing at the bottom of the stairs. It was one of the Princess' slippers. He picked it up, thinking furiously. She must be staying near here, in one of the courtiers' homes. Finally he looked up. The whole Court was assembled on the steps, watching him silently.

Well, now was as good a time as any. He raised his voice. "I will marry the young woman whose foot this slipper fits, and none other will be my Queen. I will not rest until I find her. Summon my body servants! Saddle my horse!"

* * *

The gilded coach had hardly reached the forest when it vanished in an instant and Cinderella found herself rolling on the ground. When she had caught her breath a little, she sat up laughing, her head spinning. There was the pumpkin several yards behind her, but the mice and the rat were gone. Still she laughed for sheer joy. "I danced with the Prince!" she breathed. "But what will Charlotte and Annette say if they find me out?" She began to run, then realized that the single slipper altered her balance. Taking it off, she ran and jogged all the way home, the slipper in her hand, collapsing at last on the cinder pile.

She was still panting when she heard the hired coach enter the drive. She almost jumped to her feet--and then realized that if she had truly spent the evening at home, they would expect her to be asleep. So she stayed exactly as she was, deliberately slowing her breathing.

Soon her two stepsisters found her on the cinder pile. But her heart nearly jumped out of her chest as Charlotte, the elder stepsister, shrieked "Wha-a-at?!" as if she were horrified, pointing at the girl on the cinder pile. "What have you done, Cindermaid? Where is your gown?"

For a moment Cinderella was frozen. She had completely forgotten her state of undress! But suddenly she remembered the Prince's vow, and this shrieking stepsister was powerless to stop her joy. She stood as if she were a Princess indeed, and said calmly, "Your rags fit me no longer, and they were falling into pieces, so I threw them away."

"What! How dare you carp at the gown I gave you? It was the best I had!"

"That may be, but still it fit me no longer and was falling off me. And what need have I of thy rags? I--The evening is warm." Inwardly she winced at how close she had come to revealing her secrets.

But just then the stepmother came in and everyone fell silent. Lady Tremaine looked Cinderella up and down, then said as if mildly, "What is this? Why are you not dressed?"

Her cold glare scared the naked girl far more than Charlotte's shrieks or Annette's silent smirk; but Cinderella faced her calmly. Where did this strong calmness come from? From a Prince's vow, or her dancing nude in front of the court, or chatting with Charlotte and Annette during the royal dinner as if they were all equals? Suddenly she remembered the Godmother's words, "Ye always think of garments, as if the garments made the Princess, or the Prince!" Would the Prince still be a royal Prince without his princely cloak, tunic and hose? She decided he would. She began to imagine what his bare body might look like, what shape the powerful muscles she had felt under his tunic might have.

But right now she had to say something, so she merely said, "Madam, the rags your daughters threw at me were falling apart and no longer fit, so I disposed of them."

The stepmother regarded her silently, then said, "So be it. Since you have cast off the gown we gave you, you will receive no more. Should you think better of this, you may search the rag pile for garments to keep off the winter snows. Now help my daughters undress, then go to your kennel."
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Postby jochanaan » Sun Dec 09, 2007 2:55 pm


Sometimes I love my mother, like when she's properly dressing down Cindermaid; I wish I could imitate that cold look and those dire threats veiled in velvet. But sometimes I hate her.

Like this morning. Anyone could see that her plan to put one of us in the Prince's palace as a bride--I hate to admit it, but I really don't think she cared whether it was me or Annette--would never have worked. But she just said, "I expect obedience," turned on her heel, and left us, closing the door with that decisive snap I really hate when it's turned on me.

When her footsteps had died away down the corridor, I said, "Well, are you going to do it?"

"I--I suppose I should. If it works, I'll be a Queen!"

"Ha!" I snorted. "And if it doesn't, you'll be short all the toes on your left foot, and probably in the dungeon too! This time Mother's asked too much. I like my feet in one piece, thank you very much!"

"Charlotte!" The little fool actually turned pale. "You aren't going to disobey?"

"I really think I am, Annette. I want to be Queen as much as anybody, but this is too much! Besides," I lowered my voice, "it'll never work. What will the Prince do when he takes off the slipper and sees the blood where we've chopped off half our feet?"

"But what about me? What will Mother say--" I could almost see her mind working as her face took on that smug look I wish I could master. I was Charlotte, the Queen of Shrieks, but she was Annette, the Monarch of Smug.

Finally I lost patience. "You do what you want, girl," I whispered so I wouldn't scream at her; I didn't want Mother to know right away how I felt about her wanting me to chop off half my left heel. "I'm going to put my good dress on." And I flounced off to my own room. Normally I would have rung for Cindermaid, but this time she was shut in her hole with the door barred on the outside; Mother was really taking no chances. And I wasn't about to stoop to asking my smug sister for help. So I had to put my dress on with my own hands like a peasant.

Just in time, too, for as I wrestled the last button into its hole, the butler summoned me to the hall.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the Prince, as we had thought; it was the palace chamberlain. He insisted on reading the entire proclamation, even though we had all heard what the Prince said last evening and knew all about the golden slipper. Finally, after a good quarter of an hour, he said, "Lady Charlotte, if you please," and knelt, holding the slipper out.

As daintily as I could, I extended my left foot and tried to insert it. But no matter how I squeezed and shoved, I could not get the slipper's heel to come back further than the forward part of my own heel. Finally the chamberlain said, "No more." I glanced aside for an instant--to see my mother glaring at me with hatred far colder than she had ever turned on Cindermaid.

"Lady Annette," said the chamberlain.

"Here," murmured my sister, for all the world as if she were in no pain at all. "Allow me." And she took the slipper in her own hands, knelt on one knee so that her dress still covered both her feet, and tried to wrestle it on.

But the chamberlain knew something was amiss. "What is this?" he asked mildly. The fool knew what was coming, but before she could back away the chamberlain had hold of her foot and had removed the slipper. The hastily-applied bandage on the foot--shortened only by the big toe; Annette must have chickened out of what Mother had really asked--was already soaked with new blood.

"What have you done?" demanded Mother in her soft cold voice that was worse than any shrieking. "You thought to deceive His Highness! I'll have no more of you." In spite of myself, my heart skipped a beat as Annette's face went dead white. But I was more scared for myself than her; Mother might have to save face in public but would probably not punish Annette too severely, yet her glare at me had promised truly dire retribution. Then Mother turned to the chamberlain and murmured, "I truly regret this, Your Grace. She shall be properly rebuked." Sometimes I swear my mother is a demon and no woman.

"The Prince will judge, Madam," replied the chamberlain. "Your Highness," he added, turning.

But the Prince was not there.

"Your Highness," the chamberlain raised his voice; then he muttered, "Now where can he be?"

Suddenly a chill rushed over me. "The door--" I breathed, then dashed through the manor to Cindermaid's room, dreading what I might find.

But I was far too late, though I hiked my skirts and ran up the last stair, only to stop in shock at what I saw. Cindermaid, fresh and clean and naked as if she had just sprung from the pond, and the Prince, as naked as she, were advancing hand in hand, for all the world as if already walking the palace chapel aisle.

"Ah! Lady Charlotte," spoke the Prince. "I have somewhat to say to thee and thine house. Go back to thy mother and sister and convey my wish that they await my presence and pleasure in your hall." Such power was in his voice and stance that I could only obey. When had he become this stern lord, not needing any crown or garments to render him royal?

At the bottom of the stair I met the royal chamberlain and stammered out the Prince's request, to his consternation. A cook ran by and I ordered him to assemble the other servants. Finally we had gathered--Mother and the limping Annette and I in our best gowns, the chamberlain in royal livery, our servants in our livery, and Cindermaid and the Prince in only their own flesh. I could not help staring at the Prince's loins; I had seen men's manhood before but never outside my own bed. Yet it was clear the Prince had no interest in bedding now.

"We have heard a story," His Highness began, "of betrayal and slavery in Our realm. Years ago there was a young child whose mother had died. Her father married again. Yet after her father was killed in battle, then her stepmother began to show her true nature in deeds and words. Until today, this would have concerned only her own household, but now the stepmother's deeds concern the entire Kingdom."

The Prince paused; I felt the blood leave my face. "Yes. This maiden has told Us all--how you, Lady Anastasia Tremaine, and your two daughters have enslaved her in her own house; how you refused to let her attend Our ball so she might have her chance at becoming Our Queen; and how this very morning you barred her in her own room in the tower so that one of these maidens might become Queen in her stead. Had We not seen her head at her window as We drove into your yard, We might never have known to what foul depths you have stooped, Lady Tremaine, shaming the memory of your sainted husband's valiant service to Our throne. And to top this, you have caused your own daughter to mutilate herself in a vain, foolish attempt to supplant Our beloved Queen, this maiden for whose feet the golden slippers were conjured.

"For these things, Lady Tremaine, you deserve only death or banishment from Us.

"But today We are inclined to be merciful, for We have found our Queen! She it was who came to the ball last night as the 'Princess of Nude,' sat at table with us--aye, with you, Charlotte and Annette Tremaine--and danced with Us alone. You all saw what her Fairy Godmother designed, but We saw her in truth as you see her now. And by good fortune, We have found her again! Yes, I say to you that We will marry this maiden and none other, for she has captured Our eyes and Our heart. Let us all rejoice!" And he knelt before her, gesturing with his hand. "Hail, Queen Cinderella!"

Then all our servants cried out, "Hail!" and erupted into cheers.

And I--I could say nothing, could not move one muscle in my body. I had always thought myself the wisest in the house, yet Cindermaid had outshone us all, just by being herself--nakedly herself. As my inner world shook to its foundations my eyes fixed on the young maiden (what had her name been? For the moment I could not recall) and could not help seeing her grace, her beauty, her inner joyous calm. Standing before us in only her own flesh, she was in every way a real Princess; and I in my silken gown, I was poorer than the poorest peasant, fouler than the foulest pig, sicker than the sickest she-dog that returned to her own vomit. I had scorned, abused, and reviled this lovely creature of God! She had had every right to cast away the garment I had thrown at her because I had no more use for it.

But what was this? She seemed entirely comfortable in her own nakedness, as comfortable as she had been last night--as comfortable as the Prince was in his own nudity.

My mother had taught me the arts of vanity and deception and malice--arts that had nearly cost me my foot. But the cindermaid had routed me by using the arts of truth and humility.

All this came into my mind in an instant, then the Prince spoke again. "Chamberlain! Summon my coach!"

"At once, Highness!" The man dashed out the front door.

"The Princess and I," continued the Prince, "will not stay here longer than it takes to summon the coach; from this moment on, she will live in Our palace and be the Princess of Our realm. The wedding will be as soon as things may be arranged."

"Your Highness," said a soft voice I hardly recognized as the cindermaid's.

"Call me not Highness, beloved," replied the Prince, equally softly and tenderly.

"Then, beloved, what shall we do with this woman and her daughters?"

"I leave that to my dearest beloved," he murmured, kissing her hand. "But let us not think about it now. Hark, the coach is at the door! Let us go."

And they turned to walk out the door; she moved as majestically as he, as gracefully as if she were already Queen.

"Wait, Your Highness!" The stepmother's voice froze the new Princess. "What of me? I took Your Highness in after your father's death and have kept you housed and fed till this day! What shall become of me?" The great hypocrite!

"I should treat you," said the Princess coldly, "as you have treated me." And she turned to go again.

"Wait, Your Highness!" cried Annette wildly. "What of me? I was not so bad to you, was I, was I? Cannot Your Highness show some mercy, at least, to--?"

But the Princess interrupted her, saying again, "I should treat you as you have treated me." And again turned to go.

No! Didn't they see that wasn't the way to get out of the hole they had dug themselves into? And I was in the same hole! I had only one chance, and only this moment.

"Amalie." How had my voice become such a toad's croak?

And at that long-forgotten name the Princess was well and truly frozen. I might have been gratified at her reaction at any other moment, but now I was busy with the buttons on my dress. Once and for all, I must leave my mother's arts if I wanted to save myself. Damn my treacherous streaming eyes!

The dress was easy enough; I left it where it fell. But I could not get at that corset string! Finally, in desperation, I said again, "Amalie. Help me one last time," and gestured behind me. With that royal grace, she glided behind me and pulled the knot free.

"Charlotte!" hissed Mother, but I ignored her. So many garments! How could I have ever stood it! At long last, they all lay on the floor. Then, cutting every tie with propriety, custom, everything I had known, I knelt before my stepsister.

"Amalie." I could barely hear myself. "We--my mother, my sister and I--we have treated you shamefully. We have used you ill from the moment we came into this house, and none--none worse than I." My shoulders shook, and my voice. "How can I ask forgiveness for all this? Yet, mayhap--mayhap I could become your Cindermaid, for the rest of my life. It is only my deserts." I could say no more through my silent sobs.

After a long silence, Amalie faltered, "I should treat--but I cannot. Nay," her voice firmed with decision, "I will not!" Her two hands raised me off my knees to stand before her. For just a moment I reveled in the touch of the air on my naked skin; then she took me into her arms and kissed me. "I forgive thee all, Princess Charlotte," she breathed into my ear. "Be thou my sister indeed, and stand by my side as I wed my Prince."

I had done it! But no, I could not lie to myself, not now that we two were embracing each other's naked flesh. She did it out of her own gentle self. She would have had every right to treat me as I had treated her. But I had never known her. I could not have seen, heard or felt the truth in her, for I had had no acquaintance with truth. Yet here it was--and in place of fear and hate, it was life and joy and peace. Oh, sweetness!

Now she loosed her arms from around me and set us at arm's length. Her eyes and voice laughed as she said, "And together we shall have somewhat to say about naked truth in our Kingdom, shall we not?"

I couldn't help it; I shrieked with laughter. "Aye," I said when I could finally speak with words, "aye, we shall, Your Majesty! Your Majesties," I amended hastily, glancing at the Prince.

But he was as noble as my sister, for he kissed both my hands as if I were already a Princess of the realm.

"Come!" cried Princess Amalie. "I see no need for thee to abide in this hell-hole." I could only nod. "My love, has the coach room for three?"

"Aye, and more," replied the Prince. "Come, Princess Charlotte, and live at the palace, as is your right." So this was how a good, noble Prince acted! I had much to learn.

But a hand touched my elbow. "Charlotte?" It was Annette, and something in her face stopped the retorts that had so often passed my lips. "How did you do it?" she whispered into my ear. "How did you get her to--?"

"I told the truth, girl!" I hissed back. "Try it sometime."

Again her mind worked, but now I could see that something was different. Truth was as hard for her as it had been for me--yet it won. "I'll try it now," she stated. "And since there seems to be a new fashion--" She grinned--a real, merry grin I had never seen on her face--and set her hands to the buttons on her own dress. I helped her, laughing joyously. When she was as naked as Amalie and me except for the bandage on her mutilated foot, she put her smug look on again, with merriment and no scorn, and pointed to the discarded gown, saying to her stepsister, "It doesn't fit me either."

Amalie shrieked with laughter, then sobered. Turning to the silent Lady Tremaine, she ventured, "Mother?" I was amazed anew; she had only called her Madam before. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that the chamberlain was buckling the royal sword-belt over the Prince's naked hips.

Suddenly I felt my heart stop. My mother's face was in a white rage and her hands shook; I had never seen her this dangerous. Her voice hissed through clenched teeth. "You treacherous she-dog! I should have drowned you in the pond." Just like that, there was a knife in her hand and she lunged at the Princess--only to find herself spitted on the Prince's sword and sinking to the floor in her own blood.

And Crown Princess Amalie shrieked, wailed, and sobbed over her stepmother's corpse while Annette and I, her daughters, stood dry-eyed till our servants removed the body and the naked Prince took our arms and guided us, nude, to the waiting coach.

* * *

So it was that Crown Prince Justin was wed, with Princesses Charlotte and Annette standing by the Crown Princess' side. And though it began with tragedy, long and happy was the reign of King Justin and his beloved Queen, Amalie Cinderella the Nude.
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Postby jochanaan » Sun Dec 09, 2007 3:08 pm

Here it is, finally! :?

Note: The hazel tree and the foot mutilations are from early English and German versions of the original Cinderella. Some of the names are from Charles Perreault's version, some from the Disney cartoon, but the pond and the names Justin and Amalie are my own additions; I knew Cinderella was not her birth name but have never heard any other name for her, nor for the Prince.
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Postby natman » Tue Dec 11, 2007 5:13 pm

Excellent work.

I was a bit confused when the first-person shifter to the stepsister in section II, though.

It will be even more interesting with illustrations.
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Postby jochanaan » Wed Dec 12, 2007 11:45 am

natman wrote:...I was a bit confused when the first-person shifter to the stepsister in section II, though...

Interesting. I thought my immediate reference to "Cindermaid" would have cleared that up...

Thanks for the comment!
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Postby Desert Hiker » Wed Dec 12, 2007 11:28 pm

Fine work indeed, and well worth the wait.

Yes, the initial shift in first person perspectives is a bit of a stumble at first, but is quickly adjusted to--the technique is used commonly in many writing styles, and I appreciate the glimpse into the mind of the step sister, it adds depth to the story. Great work!!! 8)
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Postby blue eyes » Thu Dec 13, 2007 12:15 am

Wow, how many blessings was that? great story
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Postby Walking Bare » Fri Dec 14, 2007 10:15 am

A good telling of a good story. Thanks :)
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