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The castle was simply bursting with eligible young ladies, all dressed in their finest ball gowns, which glittered under the light of chandeliers. They were all breathtaking, but even Lady Tremaine had to admit to herself that none were quite as lovely as her vermin-loving stepdaughter, whom she had thankfully left back at the château.
Lady Tremaine noticed that Anastasia, too, looked self-conscious as she hid her hands, which were still cracked and dry from years of washing dishes in the kitchen.
It hurt Lady Tremaine’s heart that her daughters didn’t think themselves beautiful, but Sir Richard’s words kept echoing in her mind again and again, making her doubt the prince would see the beauty in her daughters that she did. She wanted to protect them, and almost took them both by the hand to lead them away before they even met the prince. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if the prince did anything to make her daughters feel unworthy of being there among the legion of beauties all gathered that evening. And just as she was about to take her daughters and depart, she heard a familiar voice.
“Don’t leave, Lady Tremaine, not now when you finally have your chance to make a better life for yourself and your girls.”
Lady Tremaine knew Rebecca’s voice immediately. She wanted to rail and scream and strangle the woman for betraying her and working with those wretched witches behind her back. “Rebecca,” she said calmly as Anastasia and Drizella squealed with happiness to see her.
“Hello, girls. Don’t you look exquisite this evening? It’s going to be some time before you and your mama will be announced and presented to court. Why don’t you go get us some refreshments? You don’t want to sound like croaking toads when you say hello to the prince, do
you?” she said, smiling at Anastasia and Drizella.
“Oh dear! My throat is a little dry! Zella, let’s go get some punch,” said Anastasia. “We’ll be right back!” Both girls ran off, leaving Rebecca and Lady Tremaine alone.
Lady Tremaine quickly snapped her gaze from her daughters to Rebecca. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her hands around her neck and squeeze until there was no life in her. “What are you doing here, you witch?” she asked, reaching for her brooch and speaking through clenched teeth so the other guests didn’t hear them.
“So you’ve guessed who I am.” Rebecca laughed, sounding eerily like those strange sister witches.
“Nanny told me who you are. She said you were working with the Odd Sisters. It wasn’t hard to deduce you are also a witch.”
Rebecca started laughing again, but this time it was joined by the laughter of others in the ballroom, and as the laughter grew, something disturbing started to happen. Everyone in the room slowed down as if they were moving through water. It was the strangest thing Lady Tremaine had ever seen. They seemed completely unaware this was happening to them. Lady Tremaine stood there watching all the guests in awe as their movements became slower and slower until finally they were all frozen in place like statues. Everyone except Lady Tremaine, Rebecca, and the Odd Sisters, who were slowly making their way toward them through the sea of statuesque party guests. Their eyes were fixed on Lady Tremaine, and she couldn’t help but remember when Sir Richard had looked at her that way when they first saw each other at Lady Hackle’s party. She remembered feeling like she was his prey, and that was exactly how she felt in this moment.
“Let us introduce our sister Circe,” said Lucinda, or at least the one Lady Tremaine thought must be Lucinda, for she stood in the middle and spoke first.
Lucinda waved her hand, and Rebecca transformed before their eyes into a lovely golden-haired beauty with the most delicate features Lady Tremaine had ever seen. She was all silver and gold, almost luminescent, as if a light were shining from within her. As the four witch sisters stood there, Lady Tremaine couldn’t help but feel bewitched by this strange group of women. It was difficult to believe the fair-haired Circe was related to the Odd Sisters. Lady Tremaine touched her brooch, wishing to slow her beating heart, willing it to stop fluttering at such a rapid rate. She needed to be calm. She needed to be confident.
“We are, all four of us, the Odd Sisters,” said Circe, smiling at Lady Tremaine.
“What is the meaning of this? What have you done to everyone, and where are my daughters?”
Circe laughed. “Your daughters are quite well, Lady Tremaine. My sisters were disappointed you never summoned them for help, and now that we see you walking down the path of your own demise, we thought we would ask you one final time if we can help you.”
This time it was Lady Tremaine who laughed. “Help me? Help me? You are the reason I am in this horrible place! You plotted against me and brought me here, setting all these events in motion. Your book of fairy tales marked me as a villain, your book, and now I am trapped within a story I can’t escape.” Lady Tremaine was not a violent person, but she wanted to strike this Circe. “I trusted you, and I thought you were my friend, and you betrayed me.”
Circe sighed. “I am your friend, Lady Tremaine. I have been protecting you all along. I am the one who made sure your husband found the brooch in that little shop, and I stayed by your side doing what I could to keep you safe. Didn’t I have my sisters bring the tonic of your salvation, and am I not here now offering my help once again?” She tried to reach out for Lady Tremaine’s hand, but Lady Tremaine recoiled from her in anger.
“Keep your hands off me, witch! I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you and your bloody book! You are the authors of my demise! You did this!”
The four Odd Sisters laughed so hard the chandeliers swayed overhead.
“We only write what prophecy tells us, Lady Tremaine,” said Circe. “We can’t change what’s written, but we have made it our business to try to help those who get caught in the book’s tangled web. That’s all we’ve ever wanted to do, is to help. Won’t you let us now? Maybe with our magic, we can rewrite your story, but we can’t do it without your permission.”
It was strange for Lady Tremaine to be talking to this woman she thought was Rebecca who now looked completely different, but there was still something about Circe that felt like her old friend. For some reason she felt she could trust her even if she was just as odd as her dark-haired sisters.
“You can trust me, Lady Tremaine, I promise you,” Circe said. Her sisters, Lucinda, Ruby, and Martha, smiled behind her.
“I don’t know who to trust. Nanny said you cursed my brooch, is that true?”
Lucinda shook her head. “Witch and fairy magic are very different from each other. Fairies have long mistrusted witches’ magic. Like you, Nanny has her own story in the book of fairy tales, and it tells us that soon she will grow to distrust the fairy magic and embrace the way of witches. But that is another story for another time.”
“All of you speak in riddles! It’s so confounding. Nanny said she thought you were trying to help me, but I don’t understand why you would bring me here, setting all this in motion, and then offer to help me! None of it makes sense.” Circe reached out for Lady Tremaine’s hand once again, and this time she let the witch take it.
“Because it was written, Lady Tremaine. You were destined to come to the Many Kingdoms and marry Cinderella’s father, and his abuse would turn you into a monster, causing you to abuse his daughter in turn. We thought if we could rewrite this story and make sure the brooch got into your possession, it would give you the courage to stand up to him. Don’t you feel more in control when you wear it? I saw you touching it just now. That is what gave you the strength to confront me.” Circe looked into Lady Tremaine’s eyes.
“That’s true, but why keep the book of fairy tales from me? Why stop my letters from reaching Lady Prudence?” she asked, searching Circe’s face and hoping she could trust her.
“Maybe it was a mistake to keep the book from you,” Circe said. “We thought it would frighten you, or perhaps lead you further down the path we were trying to help you to avoid.” Lady Tremaine felt Circe was telling the truth. But before she could speak, Circe continued, “As for the letters, I’m sorry to say that was hubris. We wanted to be the ones to help you. We had countless arguments about Lady Prudence’s letters, but ultimately, my sisters and I decided we wanted to be the ones who saved you, not her. Can you ever forgive me, Lady Tremaine? You must believe all we have ever wanted to do is help you and your daughters.”
