Free The Ugly Stepsister (Unfinished Fairy Tales Book 1) by Aya Ling

an eye on my train. Once I get both feet firmly planted on the ground, I look up.
    Oh.
    My.
    God.
    It’s like the Disney castle that appears before every Disney movie. A great white marble structure rises before us, with numerous windows and balconies gleaming in the sun. Flags wave atop every tower and turret, which are capped with blue roofs. The entrance, a huge gate of iron and bronze, stands at the end of a long path paved with smooth white stones.
    My hand creeps to my pocket, finding only a handkerchief. Too bad my compact camera wasn’t transported along with me. I SO want to bring a picture of this castle when I go home.
    “Quit staring, Katriona.” Bianca’s voice pulls my mind back from the clouds. “You act like you have never been here before.”
    I barely notice the condescending note in her tone. For a moment, I forget about my worries. With my right hand, I take a handful of my gown, grasping the folds near my thighs so I can walk without the hems getting caught round my ankles; with my left, I pick up my train and drape it over my arm, and start down the stone path.
    I’m living in a dream. Wow.
    Miraculously, I reach the entrance safely. Four burly guards open the entrance gate, and we find ourselves in a grand courtyard.
    “Bianca! Katriona!” An excited voice rings through the air. Poppy, attired in a dress of pale buttercup yellow, runs toward us. She trips, but quickly rights herself.
    “So you are presenting today.” Bianca nods at her.
    “Auntie managed to adjust my schedule.” Poppy grins widely. “I’m so glad to see you both. I was thinking of giving up waiting and going inside, but then you showed up! Oh, I’m so thrilled to have come. Mama told me stories of the castle, but seeing it with my own eyes—doesn’t it beat everything?”
    “Yes, it’s awesome,” I say heartily. “I can’t wait to go inside.”
    Bianca raises her eyebrows as though I’m a country bumpkin.
    Poppy tucks her hand under my arm and beams. “Come, let us go in together.”
    The castle’s interior does not disappoint. We enter by the double doors into the castle, and I’m half dizzy from drinking in the surroundings. Huge rooms that are ten times bigger than the living room back at home. Crystal chandeliers hanging from painted ceilings, carved and polished furniture with gilt edges, velvet carpets stretching from room to room, winding staircases, tapestries that reach from ceiling to floor, servants dressed in neat, uniform colors of blue and silver, courtiers decked out in magnificent clothes which look like they came straight from a movie set.
    “Good gracious,” Poppy gasps. We pass through this enormous room two stories high, with a vaulted ceiling and balconies running on the second floor. Tall, narrow windows line both sides of the room, offering an excellent view of the gardens outside. Our slippers click loudly on the polished marble floor. I’m tempted to holler and test if the room echoes.
    “This is the ballroom,” the servant who escorts us says tonelessly.
    It dawns on me that this is where the ball will be held. In the story, Cinderella commands the attention of everyone by descending a staircase. But there’s no staircase in this room. I look around—the central balcony should do. If she needs to shine in the limelight, she has to stand where the prince can behold her beauty. I ponder on how to get Elle up there.
    Then, finally, we’re brought to a place that looks like a sitting room. Bianca tells Poppy it’s called an antechamber. Lady Bradshaw is told to wait outside, in another room, with the other sponsors. She orders Bianca and I to conduct ourselves “with impeccable manners” before the queen, though she barely looks at me. Bianca’s the only daughter that counts.
    A dozen other young ladies, all wearing similar dresses of white or cream, wait in the room. A few wear haughty expressions, others look nervous, and some appear bored.
    “Bianca,” Claire calls to us.