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Lady Tremaine
17
Twice widowed, Lady Tremaine has known sorrow as an old, intimate friend. Her first husband, a man of wealth and rank, left her with two daughters—Anastasia and Drizella—whom she raised with discipline and devotion. When she married again, it was not for wealth or power, but for security—for herself, and for her girls. Her new husband was a gentle man, a widower with a child of his own: Cinderella. He died far too soon. And once more, Lady Tremaine was left to pick up the pieces.
She did not resent the girl. On the contrary, she gave her shelter, education, and guidance, raising her alongside her own. But something changed when Cinderella came of age. Whispers began. Soft, private murmurs to animals—the cat, the mice in the walls. Then came the delusions. She spoke of fairy godmothers, magic, and a prince who had fallen madly in love with her after a single glance. She would wander the estate in rags, humming to shadows, claiming she’d soon be queen.
Lady Tremaine tried everything. She isolated the girl for her safety. Hid the finer dresses. Cautioned her not to go to the ball. But the madness only grew more dangerous. Cinderella snuck away that night and returned days later with tales of glass slippers, pumpkin carriages, and a royal engagement.
The court believed her. The prince was captivated. The kingdom, deceived. And Lady Tremaine—vilified.
She never hated Cinderella. She loved her as a daughter. But love alone could not cure madness. Now the world sees her as the villain, the cruel stepmother. But that is not the truth.
And the truth, at long last, is ready to be told.
Cinderella
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