Summary: Our Cinderella is completely unorthadox, the prince is an alarmingly attractive jerk, and the only thing keeping these two apart is themselves. A TWISTED RETELLING OF THE STORY OF 'THE LITTLE CINDER GIRL.' SEX, DRAMA, & LIES. AH, SUCH SINFUL PLEASURE...

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Marguerite Umbrae
Part One
Prologue

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She was born on the exact day as a young girl in high society.

Near the same hour, actually. The Bardleby family was just outraged at another girl, but her mother and father rejoiced at her pale eyes and rosy cheeks. The moment Yolanda Bardleby was born, she let out a high pitched scream that her great aunt Merdle swore cracked the wine glass she had given to poor Mrs. Bardleby's father during the rather hazardous birthing.

The moment Aisling Gradford was born, she coughed twice, looked up at her mother, and grinned mischeviously.

"Oh, that's a good sign," said the midwife sarcastically. "She'll be an imp forevermore; doubt me not, Betsy Gradford."

-

While Yolanda Bardleby lived just across the street from Aisling Gradford, they grew up two very separate lives. This is rather odd, the reader may say, astounded. Two young girls, in the same neighbourhood and they never met, even once?

Perhaps the author might make the remark that it was probably better for a good child like Aisling to have been totally estranged from any child like Yolanda in the early years. It would have tainted what innocence hadn't been taken by her first few acts of mischief. Because aside from playing the practical joke every now and then, Aisling Gradford was quite the sweet girl.

Yolanda Bradleby, on the other hand, was most definitely not.

The Bradlebys were the richest family in the neighbourhood, if not the most arrogant. They consisted of a Mr. Jason Bradleby, Mrs. Jason Bradleby, and two children - Yolanda, whom the reader has been told of previously, and Jason Jr., with whom the reader has not yet and will not yet become acquainted.

Jason Bradleby Sr. was a very rich man who owned his own advertising business. Just what they advertised was rather speculative, because they never seemed to be making contracts or writing commercials, or even hiring employees for that matter. The secret of the Bradleby Fortune was easily explained, however. It was blatantly obvious to anyone who wished to look that they were distantly related to the King. In fact, if their family tree read correctly, Jason Sr.'s aunt Mirdle was actually a duchess of some sort.

Mrs. Bradleby, whose first name was Giselle, ran the household at 4236 Mutword Street with an iron fist, keeping housekeeper and maid in line, as well as making sure her children were as far away from the help as possible.

The Bradleby children were privately tutored, seeing as their father could afford it, and educated by the very best until Jason Jr. reached fifteen, at which point he decided he wanted to be independent and make friends. In response, his parents sent him and his sister to an exclusive private school on the far end of town.

And that's all, the author's afraid, she can tell you for now of the Bradlebys.

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If the Bradlebys were the epitome of arrogance and high society, then the Gradfords were most definitely the opposite.

Mr. Bradley Gradford was a cook in a restaraunt owned by a genie, but that in no way made him famous or heavily recommended, unfortunately for his family.

Mrs. Nia Gradford spent all her time home-schooling Aisling. It would have cost too much to send their child to school, so instead they raised her at home until she had completed the studies set at a mandatory by King Derriue. After that, both she and her mother went to work as waitresses at The Small Bluejay, the restaraunt where Mr. Gradford worked.

When Aisling was thirteen, her father was promoted to head chef, half because he was so good at what he did and half because the precedent head chef died in a horse accident.

After this promotion, things were good for a while, but then steadily got worse. Mrs. Gradford was diagnosed by the midwife with Rhiannon poisoning, probably, she'd said, from working too closely with the witches that managed the money up front. The doctor they called in after her condition became even more severe blamed the Rhiannon on the midwife.

Either way, Mrs. Gradford was dead by Aisling fourteenth birthday.

Bradley, Aisling's father, grew hardened by the death of his wife, and became a quiet man who spoke only of or to his daughter and boss. Work consumed him and he delved himself entirely into Eastern cousine, making room for his teenager when possible.

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They first met at Aisling's mother's funeral.

Aisling was just a devastated young girl, so naturally she could hardly realize that there were strangers present. She shook hands and recieved mourning gifts according to kingdom tradition, but when a pair of hands free of customary black gloves appeared in her line of vision, she took notice.

A woman who was maybe in her late twenties stood before her, holding out a large, wrapped present. It lacked the custom black messages of sorrow and sympathy. The big, bright yellow bow wrapped around its rusty-colored frame was spotted with small white hearts.

Only two people at the funeral knew who this mystery woman was, and only one person at the funeral knew what was inside that strange box.

This completely unorthadox gift was from Aisling Gradford's fairy godmother and inside was the one thing that could change her life forever.

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Because no series is complete without Cinderella. I hope you like my take on it. I was feeling restless and needed to write. Seeing as all my other stories are on my computer (which is in storage until we move in June) I can't write them, which is why I've been absent. Until then, I'll be updating this. Please review, I worked SO hard.