Misunderstood

Annastasia snapped the offending book close. Really, those Grimm brothers took a grudge to quite another level. Heaven forbid anyone refused their advances. They'd soon find themselves at the receiving end of quite a literary lashing. If the sales of the lying trash were any indication, everyone in the kingdom was laughing. At their cost. Annastasia took a fortifying breath, her face red with anger and embarrassment. Really! She and her sister were hardly ugly trolls. Just ask those lecherous Grimm brothers. They'd certainly wanted more than a dance at the ball with them. Being turned down certainly pinched their ego. Drusilla rolled her eyes. "Why must you take such personal offense? It’s merely words, theirs against ours." Annastasia took another long, controlled breath. Drusilla was the innocent one. She did not understand the ways of the world. If their stature and non-conventional looks weren't enough, now they had another gift thanks to their sister. It wasn't enough that she was fairer, prettier and admittedly a better cook than her sisters. No siree. It wasn't enough for the golden Cinderella. She had to be both fair of face and fortune. To ensure it, she'd go to any lengths. Annastasia clutched the book tighter, her knuckles white. "It's garbage," she swore silently. "It is indeed. Why does it bother you so, my sweet sister?" inquired Drusilla, bending at the knees in front of her sister, placing her head in Annastasia's lap. "If it isn't the truth, then why does it hurt you so?" Annastasia studied her sister's curious face. She bemoaned her mother's choices, not for the first time. Her mother had been in love. Their step father was a widower still pining for his dead wife, all his hopes, dreams, aspirations and affection tied up in his daughter. She was the apple of his eyes, had always been. Never had they received much affection from the new man in their mother's life. "Cinderella made it sound like we were ogre's," Drusilla said, her voice betrayingly soft, the hint of hurt laced through the words. "She was always a whiner. She made it sound like she was the only one with duties." Lies. All of them. They had a large estate, not free from debt or disaster. They all needed to pull their weight and they had. It simply looked like Cinderella was the one with the most work because of her inability to do anything else. Their mother kept the books, Annastasia dealt with merchants who purchased the fruits from their orchard and Drusilla tended the flowers and trees. Cinderella, who had very little talent, or interest, wasted all her time on singing songs and dancing around. Times were tough. There was hardly any time to sing and be merry. Certainly not when the house was in disorder. And yet, Cinderella would rather spend her time complaining about the work than doing it. "She wasn't even good at the work we assigned her. You remember when mother told her to take over the book keeping and switched duties?" Drusilla asked, playing with a stray piece of thread sticking out of her sister's skirt. "Yes," Annastasia sighed. Cinderella had switched duties with each one of them. Their mother was hardly a tyrant. She was a survivalist and had a strong work ethic and the kind of work Cinderella considered beneath her, mother enjoyed. The simple fact was they each had their roles. And when Cinderella made a mess of the books, turned away purchasers and killed the apple tree, it was decided to put her in charge of the cleaning. But in her head, Cinderella had always been handed the bad cards. "She wasn't the only one that lost a father," Drusilla whispered. Pain bloomed in their hearts. They had all seen loss. Their mother's loss immeasurable. To outlive two spouses wasn't a walk in the park. Annastasia had hoped that Cinderella wouldn't bad mouth their mother. After all her mother was the one that encouraged them to be friends with the spoiled brat. They had all tried. Their mother had tried the hardest. But once Cinderella made up her mind about something, there was going to be no deterring her. And Cinderella had decided that they were the enemy. Now the entire kingdom thought her hardworking, soft hearted mother was a cruel taskmaster. It was unfair. Nobody wanted to know their version of the story. "She told those ghastly Grimm brothers that we made her wash our clothes," Drusilla muttered. An indelicate snort escaped Annastasia's control. "She could hardly wash her own clothing without ruining the silks and shredding the cotton. Can you imagine if we gave her our gowns?" a shudder ran through her body. "She lied about everything," Drusilla's voice got, if possible, even softer. Annastasia sighed. "You must forget about the prince dear sister." Drusilla pushed away, her face a picture of affronted anger. "She chose not to accompany us. She watched us make haste, waving us off. She pretended to care," she shouted. Drusilla had been practically betrothed to the prince. Despite the fact that Cinderella with her petite looks and fair skin was more suited to the traditional look of a princess, the prince had chosen Drusilla. Tall, dark haired, chocolate eyed Drusilla. Outspoken, opinionated, intelligent Drusilla. Until that fateful night when Cinderella walked in, with her secret dress and her contraband shoes. Clothing that she had commissioned without asking mother. Clothing that they were still paying for. The sisters hadn’t bought a new dress in two years. And those shoes. Hardly anybody knew that the shoes were imported from a far away land, their price another setback they couldn't afford. "She told him her lies too. Turned him against me," wailed Drusilla, frustrated tears streaming down her face. Annastasia rose, wrapping her arms around her inconsolable sister. "We mustn't make this worse Drusilla. It is done. We will keep our head high and weather this storm. They're only silly books. Nobody will even remember this story when the next scandal breaks." Drusilla hiccuped, "You promise?" Annastasia closed her eyes, her thoughts momentarily her own. Not many knew that Annastasia could envision the future. Behind her closed lids images flashed of more slander. She took another steadying breath. "I promise," she said softly. Nobody saw her crossed fingers hidden behind her back.