“Now then, since that is done,” Ophelia said, turning to her next. “Are you ready to go my dear?”

Isabell made no move. She was far too shocked to let anything register at this point!

“NO!” Rachel was the first to scream, racing down the stairs to meet them.

“I demand you leave her here and begone at once! Isabell is to help us prepare for the King’s ball, so she will not be going. Once I go there and marry the prince, I will outrank even you!” she spat.

Ophelia let out an amused laugh. “Well, that will be quite a predicament for you my dear! You see, Isabell will also be taking part in this ball, so perhaps she will be the one to marry Lord Tristan.”

Isabell blushed with indignation. “I never agreed to that! In fact, I refuse to take part in that silly competition. I do not care about titles or marrying the prince, I do not even care about being a lady!” she shouted.

Her aunt looked surprised. “But my dear, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. If you agree to go, the family will allow you to inherit your father’s title. You cannot pass this up!”

“No one cared to come and see how I was doing until this blasted ball. And now you say you wish me to be free? After leaving me here to rot for the last six years!?”

Ophelia shied back with hurt. “My dear, I had no idea you lived this way! Your father never let us come and visit, so how was I to know your step-mother would keep you in such a pitiful state?”

“Still, you only came to ask for my help! You only came because of that dumb ball!”

Her aunt smiled with sorrow. “Not true. I used this opportunity as an excuse to finally meet. Your father never wished for any of us to see you after our father’s decision to disinherit him. He was the one who shunned the rest of his family, and broke all contact with even me, his only sister. Out of respect, I stayed away. Even after his death I held back my desire to come, for fear you had been told the worst sort of things about me. However, I thought the King’s Ball would be a good way for us to meet, since I finally had something to offer you. But my dear, that is all beside the point. Even if you are not interested in the ball, you do wish to leave this place, yes?”

Isabell swallowed dryly. She was torn, confused, hurt, angry, and completely at a loss of what to think. Of course she wanted to leave. Nut never had she imagined it coming about in this manner!

“Come away, my dear! Come to my estate. You will be treated like a proper young lady there, with your own servants, and your own room. Do not linger here in a house like this, not with these people who would treat you like a slave!” Ophelia begged gently, truly looking sincere.

She looked up at her so-called aunt, feeling seriously tempted. Still, she wondered about Ursa and Johnathan. Would she ever see them again if she agreed to leave with this woman? What about her dream of finding peace and freedom? Her dream of escaping the memory of her father and her family?

“Isabell, you will not leave this house, I forbid it!” her step-mother warned. “If you even dare to agree, you shall never be welcome here again! Do you understand!?”

Isabell met the woman’s cold stare, and those of her step-sisters. Even now, when she might be leaving for good, they held only hatred and anger. They would not miss or mourn her. They would not feel regret or shame. They only wanted her to stay to act as free labor, and continue waiting on them hand and foot like a lowly maid. So then, it was plain foolish to stay. No matter how much Isabell wanted to object to everything happening, giving up an invitation like this really would be stupid. Neither Ursa or Johnathan would approve of her staying either, no matter what her feelings were on the matter. In fact, she knew they would never forgive her if she turned the Duchess down.

“I, I do wish to go with you. But about the ball, I just…”

Her aunt beamed with sudden joy. “Fret not about such a far off occasion! Let us simply focus on getting you back home, back to where you belong.”

“ISABELL!” her step-mother screeched.

Ophelia then turned to her manservant, who was standing right outside the door.

“Jeffery, please fetch any of Isabell’s things for her.”

Isabell blushed as the man came in and bowed to her. Never once had the likes of this taken place!

“Where shall I start, my Lady?” he asked.

She gulped, suddenly feeling rather awkward and out of place. “Y-you need not trouble yourself! I only have one thing to bring anyway, and I can carry it myself.”

“What could a wench like you possibly own!?” Rachel hissed from behind.

“Yeah, we gave you everything!” Lucille snapped.

Her step-mother probably would have added her own harsh remark, but she still looked too shocked to speak. Isabell quickly used this opportunity to run passed them all, and head up to her room. Once there, she quickly grabbed her father’s scarf and her stash of pennies, before taking one last look around.

“Good-bye father. I, I may never step foot in your house again. I am sorry to leave like this, but I simply must. I have tried to love them, the people whom you chose as family. None of them love me, and I can no longer bear their torture. Please, forgive me for breaking apart all that you wished to mend,” she whispered.

Then, Isabell left the cold attic, racing back down the stairs and out the front door before any tears could fall. Her aunt followed behind, saying nothing in good-bye as they both made their way towards the waiting carriage. It was a large white coach, drawn by four white horses. The shape reminded her of a pumpkin, one wrapped in lace and beauty.

“Here you are ma’am,” the manservant said, opening up the carriage door/

Isabell nodded with pink cheeks. “Thank you sir.”

He smiled at her polite acknowledgment and helped her in, after which her aunt entered.

“There now! Finally, we are getting you out of here.” The woman huffed, pulling out her fan to do away with the heat her thick clothes no doubt incurred.

As the coach began to move, Isabell reluctantly glanced out the window. She watched as, for the very last time, her father’s house slipped far away and out of her view.