Charm Read Online Free

him, and this time it was his turn to sigh. ‘They keep it in a converted stable at the back of the castle. It’s under constant guard. At night it twinkles as though all the stars in the sky have been captured and sprinkled onto its surface . . .’
    Cinderella closed her eyes and let her mind drift as the familiar words washed over her.
     
    B uttons left an hour or so later, tipping the coal into the scuttle on his way, and taking the sack away with him to hide somewhere on his way back to the castle. The night had turned bitter, but Cinderella came up the outside stairs in just her worn shoes and with a shawl wrapped round her shoulders and watched until he’d vanished in the foggy mist that was settling over the streets like a blanket.
    She didn’t notice the little mouse valiantly scrabbling his way up the stairs, his fur puffed out a little as if it could somehow protect him from the grip of the icy night. By the time Cinderella had retreated back into the house and firmly bolted the door behind her, he had reached the pavement. He stood up on his hind legs and sniffed the wet air, searching for the right direction.
    This time he didn’t follow Buttons back to the castle, he turned away and scurried through the night towards the forest. He was glad he’d had the cheese and breadcrumbs. He had a long way to travel that night.
     
    C inderella had done her best to hide away for most of the next day – even going out for a long walk in the bitter cold – but she’d still been subjected to having to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at Rose in her new blue dress. Admittedly, she did look prettier in it. Her skin looked less pasty with some rouge applied and the royal blue made her hair look darker. It was even managing to hold some curls, although Cinderella doubted they would last. Doubted and hoped not, if she was honest.
    By the time Ivy’s carriage arrived, she was in a foul mood. She watched through the window as a footman helped Rose and her step-mother inside, her mind a nest of squirming dark feelings that she couldn’t even form into coherent thoughts. It was envy of course, she knew that. Envy and more than a touch of self-pity, but she couldn’t help herself. How was she supposed to feel? It just wasn’t fair. It was as if she didn’t matter.
    ‘Penny for them?’
    The carriage rolled away and Cinderella let the curtain drop.
    ‘Doesn’t matter.’
    ‘Your mother got these for you.’ Her father was standing in the doorway holding up a box of chocolates. ‘It’s a two-layer box. Not cheap.’
    ‘I don’t want them.’ She almost stamped her foot, the way she had when she was annoyed as a small girl. How could a box of chocolates compare with going to a ball at the castle? Was she being laughed at now? It felt like salt in a wound. ‘And she’s not my mother.’
    ‘She’s looked after you since you were very small, Cinderella. She loves you.’ He’d been carrying a chequers board under his arm and he set it down on a coffee table and drew it close to the fire Cinderella had made with some of the coal Buttons had brought. It was a good fire and neither her step-mother or step-sister would feel the benefit of it. A small victory maybe, but it was something.
    ‘You’re not writing tonight?’ she asked.
    ‘I thought we’d have some father and daughter time,’ he smiled at her. ‘Eat some chocolate and play a few board games. What do you think?’
    ‘I think I’d rather be at the ball, but my mother didn’t invite me.’
    Her father sighed and in the glow of the fire she noticed, for the first time, that more of his hair was grey than brown, and wrinkles ran like a spider’s web across his face. How did that happen? He was suddenly middle-aged, not the smiling, solid man who’d bounced her on his knee when her real mother was still alive.
    ‘You have a lot to learn, Cinderella. It’s not so easy as that.’
    ‘She hates me.’ She flopped down into the chair opposite him, feeling more