The broom handle slammed into Ella's cheek. That was the fifth time it had done that. A bruise was inevitable at this point. She couldn't help it, not when her eyelids each had their own individual brick weighing them down.

When her family had returned home, she'd had no voice but to follow after them and clean up their messes. Drizella wouldn't have stopped screaming for her if she hadn't. She shouldn't have been surprised that Annie was at a loss as to how to free either of them from the large gowns without ripping the fabric. Even they knew better than to ruin the dresses when their mother was in a foul mood. By the time she'd gotten them into bed and cleaned up, dawn was only a few hours off and she'd had precious little time to rest before beginning her morning chores.

The one saving grace that morning was that the chickens were too exhausted to do much more than peck at the food nearest to them. That freed up a large enough portion of her morning that she was able to make breakfast and start the laundry before any of them had awoken. By lunch she would have been able to squeeze in a nap hidden in the shed where they'd never find her.

It wasn't much of a shed, it only held a few farming tools coated in rust. Still, it was in one piece and the roof was solid. Ella had been hiding out there for as long as she could remember. The three horrors of her life avoided it like the plague. They couldn't grasp that a few spiders wouldn't mean the end of the world. She doubted they even remembered it was there now since it was so far back on the property.

Anyway, hiding in the shed was a flawed plan from the start. She was tired with no reason to give them, but they were tired too. Blistered feet, stubbed toes, and knotted hair were presented to Ella like gifts. It had all taken her attention for the entire afternoon until it was far too late to do anything but continue her work.

As she swept the main hall, Drizella and Annie reminisced over the ball in the sitting room. They'd been speaking about it all morning, but this was the first time they hadn't been doing it to make Ella jealous. As per usual, she'd blended into the background with the old tapestries and mottled furniture they refused to sit on. They didn't look her way when her sweeping brought her closer and closer to them.

"They said the prince would be there, but I didn't see anyone so fancy or charming to be called prince," Drizella huffed. Her feet were still propped up on the ottoman where Ella had left them wrapped in herb soaked cloth. The shoes she'd coaxed her feet into for the ball were a size too small but too fashionable to discard.

Once again, Ella's thoughts shifted to Ricky. He'd been charming enough for a hundred princes. For a palace servant he was incredibly well spoken and knowledgeable when it came to proper etiquette. The little they'd danced had felt as flawless as she'd seen her mother dance with her father when they thought no one was watching. She could still remember the two of them waltzing about the house in the night when the staff had been dismissed and they thought their daughter was safely in bed.

From the sitting room, Annie began to hum one of the songs from the ball. She did so softly so as not to start Drizella on another rant. The sound reached Ella just as easily as if she'd been a foot away. They had the high ceilings to thank for that. Sound traveled well through the hallway. That was how Ella was often able to arrive with tea before they called her, or clean a mess before they could hide it to scold her later.

Ella's hips moved of their own accord, swaying softly in time with the song. She remembered it well since it was the exact song that had played when Ricky pulled her into the garden. They hadn't danced to it but that didn't matter. In her mind, the image of them swaying peacefully through the hedges and roses was clear as glass.

The broom teetered on its straw base when she stepped back to curtsy. It stood on its own just for a moment, and then she had it back in her hand positioned at arm's length. A broom had no movement of its own so she put in twice the work. Her petite feet tapped against the wood floor as she led herself and the broom through a simplified waltz all the way to the kitchen.

Annie's humming was little more than a whisper in the spacious room. Bags of flour and stacks of dishes and wooden bowls muffled the sound. Ella picked it up seamlessly, leading the broom in a more complicated and wandering dance. The straw bottom kicked up clouds of white powder along with the normal dust. To her, it looked like magic swirling around her.

Any moment she'd be back in her luxurious gown and she could pretend she was a marquis's daughter instead of a maid. They'd all respect her then.

Their dance ended in a flourish that nearly knocked over a stack of buckets by the fireplace. Just on the other side of those bricks lay her one physical bit of evidence that the night had happened at all. She'd take it with her when she left, if only to explain to Ricky what had happened. It all sounded crazy when she talked about it to herself but the shoe was proof enough for her. No glassmaker could have made something so delicately shaped and yet so sturdy. Now if only that silly fairy would get on with the matter of her vengeance. Ella wanted to be gone soon but she needed with all her heart to see those three punished.

They hollered for her again, this time demanding she prepare the parlor for their music lessons. Every moment, Annie began to sound more and more like her mother and sister. Perhaps it was better they grow distant now that Ella had found an escape. The excitable redhead spent so much time trying to play the bridge between the four family members. By dissolving the bridge she could focus on only herself for once.

The parlor, in Ella's opinion, was one of the best rooms in the house. The three floor to ceiling windows along the northern side kept the sun from every shining directly inside. That kept the furniture from fading as quickly as the rooms with southern exposure and meant they could keep the thick velvet curtains open all year. Ella could only remember closing them during her parent's funerals.

At the center of the room sat her mother's grand piano. It was one of the few pieces of furniture that had been meticulously maintained since both Drizella and Annie were made to practice on it until their fingers were numb. The marchioness could even be found there on quiet afternoons, coaxing a soft lullaby out of the ivory keys. In those moments, she looked soft and alone, but they never lasted once the final note fell from the air.

What her stepsisters played was barely passable as music. It had the notes and it was played on an instrument but there was no heart in it and the tempo was often in tatters. Ella could judge them privately but she doubted her own skills had progressed past the beginner songs she'd learned as a child. Even so, her hands drifted over the keys to test the notes. Without thinking she began to play the song Annie had been humming a moment ago.