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Tremaine staggers in, reeking of alcohol. He points at each of his daughters in turn.

“One of you is going home with the prince,” he declares. From beneath his jacket, he produces a knife. Silence falls heavily over the room. “I don’t care what you have to cut off. One of you will fit into that shoe.”

“Shoe?” I gasp.

Tremaine’s bleary gaze swings to me. “His mystery girl left behind a slipper. He’s assigned the entire guard to scour the country until he finds the girl it fits.” He spits into the fireplace. “Stupid git. A shoe can fit any number of women.”

I dip into my apron pocket where I’ve stashed the tiny crystal slipper.

This is perfect. Once I’m queen, I’ll have all the resources I need to ensure my family’s needs are met.

They’ve been nothing but horrible to me, but that doesn’t give me leave to abandon them.

All I have to do is reach Alex—no, Alistair—and…

My pulse scrambles wildly when Tremaine narrows his eyes at me.

“How did you pass the night, Ellie?”

He advances on me, looming over me. Breath like a distillery hits my face. I gag.

“I didn’t sleep much.” True enough. “I was beaten black and blue.” I display the purple flourishes on my arms. I can feel more sore spots on my back.

“She deserved it for going through my dresses and cutting them up, the spiteful little brat.” Cilla sniffs.

“I was saving mine as keepsakes for my children,” wails Stacia with tears welling in her eyes. “You had no right.”

She gives me a push.

Cilla slaps my cheek.

“Thief.”

“Slut.”

Sharp blows rain down on me, forcing me back a step. Then another. I try to fend them off without striking back.

Anger wells.

“You have everything .” I bat away Cilla’s open palm only to be blindsided by Stacia’s small, round fist. For being short and pudgy, she’s surprisingly strong. My head snaps back.

“You have each other,” I continue. “Your father, too. I lost my parents. I had to watch you take over my home. I’ve never had a nice dress. You couldn’t spare one of the dozens you were never going to wear again?”

“They were keepsakes.” Cilla’s horsey features twist into a mask of fury. “You took them without asking.”

“Besides, you don’t need dresses, you have natural good looks. How is that fair?” Stacia says.

Together, the sisters give me a good, hard push. I go sprawling into the enormous firepit. Ashes cloud the air, choking me, stinging my eyes until tears leak down my cheeks. Astonished, I sit there in the soot, trying to comprehend what just happened.

Their cruel laughter is like a spike to my heart.

Why am I trying with these people?

Why do I care?

They hurt me, call me names, force me to serve them, tell me I’m worthless, steal my inheritance, and deny me any chance of escape. It’s not just Tremaine. His daughters are horrible, too.

I smack one palm onto the floor and push up. I’m ready to walk straight back to the castle right now. The Tremaines can learn to cook their own eggs and wash their own damn clothes. Anywhere I could go must be better than this.

I’m halfway to standing, when a boot connects with my thigh and knocks me back down. Cilla thinks my predicament is the height of comedy, judging from her peals of laughter.

“Stay down in the dirt where you belong, girl,” Tremaine snarls.

“Just like her last name.” Cilla claps in delight.

“Cinder Ellie. Look at her, with that red hair, like embers in the ashes. A soot gremlin.” Stacia’s face is red from laughter.

“Cinderella, Cinderella, never ever gets a fella!” the sisters squeal in unison.

“Very clever.” I dust off my dress as best I can. “Since my services are no longer needed, I’ll be leaving.”

“Leaving?” Cilla’s glee evaporates instantly.

“Where would you go?” Stacia says.

“Maxine will let me stay with her.” Clinging to what’s left of my dignity, I pour water into the kettle and set it on the iron stove. “I’m done putting up with your abuse.”

“Abuse?” Stacia squeaks, her eyes wide. What’s wild is that I actually believe she’s never given a single thought to her behavior toward me before.

“Yes. Abuse.”

Cilla huffs. “You’re lucky to have a place to live. Go and live under a hedgerow with that crazy witch. You won’t last a day before you come crawling back to your warm bed.”

“It’s you who won’t last two days.” I dunk my hands in the cold bucket of water I was going to heat for washing, blackening it with soot. “You’ll have to carry this by yourselves. Cook your own meals. Slop the pigs.” A wry smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Clean your own chamber pots.”

Both sisters gasp in horror.

“You can’t leave us,” Cilla says indignantly.

“Watch me.”

Calm settles over me. I remove the apron and toss it over the back of a chair. Ten steps between me and freedom. Once I get into the yard, I’ll take Moll from the pasture and ride to town.

But that means leaving behind the mementos of my parents. They’re all I have.

Foolishly, I hesitate. Tremaine’s arm whips out. He grabs me by the wrist, squeezing hard enough to grind bones. Startled, I flinch.

“You’re not going anywhere, Ellie.”

He cuffs me. Stars explode, blinding me for an instant before the room swirls drunkenly. There is no more laughter from Cilla and Stacia. Only dread-filled silence.

“Get upstairs.”

He shoves me toward the steps.

“No.” I might be terrified, but I won’t stay here another night.

“I said get upstairs.”

He advances on me. With my heart pumping terror through my veins, I back up one step. Another. He looms over me with his dragon-fire whisky breath.

“Or I’ll tell the prince what a whore his queen is,” he growls too low for his daughters to hear.

He knows.

Tremaine is as cunning as he is cruel. He won’t hesitate to use the knowledge of what he did to me to keep me trapped here. Forever.

He grips my throat and drags me closer, his stinking breath rolling over me in a foul cloud.

“I don’t know how you did it, you scheming bitch, but you’d better have enjoyed your time with the prince because you will. Never. See. Him. Again.”

My stepfather shakes me with each final word. He throws me forward. Dragging in ragged lungfuls of air, I cough and crawl up the creaking wood steps.

“That’s right, Elinor. Crawl like the vermin you are.”

His boot lands on my bottom. The bridge of my nose collides with the stair. Pain shatters across my face. Wetness drips down my face.

I touch the dampness. My fingertips come away red. Tears burn my eyes. It would be so easy to hate him. He deserves it. But that is one thing I refuse to let him do to me. I will never give in to hatred, no matter how well-earned.

He slams the door behind me and slides the bolt into place.