Cinderella A Romantic Horror Story

Do not Disturb the Creature of the Lake

A woman with black curls had her hands around Victor's neck. He groaned, causing Ella's cheeks to heat. He gasped and looked Ella in the eye.

"No. Ella. It's not—"

The woman turned. It was Olga. Her smile grew wider when she realized they'd been discovered by no other than Ella. The prince gave Olga a gentle push and followed Ella, who ran away from the scene.

"Don't be shy, Victor. Come back." Olga's voice reverberated through the castle halls. Her voice sounded slow and loud, grotesque.

Ella arrived at the garden, Victor panting behind her. He grabbed her by the shoulders.

"You're hurting me, master."

"Don't call me that."

"I have no other words for you. It is late. You might not understand it, but I have duties in this castle. I have to go to the village and dump the waste. It would not be wise to lose my job over a man."

"The village?" He frowned. He then plucked a rose from the bush to his left. "For you."

She inspected it and tossed it back into the bush. A stolen rose would do more harm than good. People asking questions while it withered away in her room.

"It's too late to go to the village. The last group must have left half an hour ago."

Ella's mouth dried. "What do you mean, 'group?'"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Brunhilda sends people into groups. There is too much waste to dump and not enough hands. Besides... I don't want to scare you, sweet Ella, nor any lady, for that matter. But the village isn't what it used to if you know what I mean. There have been robberies, and sometimes worse."

She swallowed, but the lump in her throat wouldn't vanish. Olga had tricked her, like a sort of innocent child who knows nothing of life. Her entire existence, people respected her enough not to cheat her, and so it was as unexpected as being hit in the face. She was no longer respected. She was being openly cheated.

"Do you know where Brunhilda might be?"

He shook his head and crossed his arms. "What about us?"

"There's not an 'us', master. I have to get going if I don't want to end up on the streets of Bon. Thank you for the information. It's more precious than you can gather. And please," she exaggerated the pause, "enjoy your woman. You never know when you'll have to marry Laila."

The prince sneered and turned his back to her.

She went to the king's cottage, where she suspected Brunhilda may be. This time she knocked. She had surprised enough people during intimacy for a day. Indeed, it was Brunhilda who opened the door. Her eyes widened at the sight of Ella.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the village."

"That's the thing. I'm sorry." Ella stared at her wooden shoes. "I don't know what to dump, or how to get to the village. Olga was going to finally help me, but then..."

"Olga?" She pursed her lips. "Then what?"

Ella looked her in the eye. "She was with the prince."

Brunhilda opened the door wider, revealing the assortment of buckets and cleaning soaps, and brushes. "So you don't get the wrong idea, after those tales you tell."

It was strange to find the housekeeper defensive, nonetheless, she couldn't blame her. In this place, a woman was little more than her reputation.

Brunhilda let out a grimace. "I'll show you."