Cinderella (Faerie Tale Collection) Read Online Free PDF

my whole life for my very own horse and now I have you. We will be the best of friends, I know it.”
    She then spread her skirts more ladylike around her knees and gathered up some of that glorious mane and began to tug and walk Sunshine around the graveled yard. Wherever she wanted to go, the horse followed. It was like they were sisters or twins or something—so in tune was Ella to her and Sunshine to Ella, it did not matter if Ella wanted to suddenly halt and pick an apple in the orchard, the horse would stop and allow her to stand precariously upon her back or saddle and reach up on tiptoe and collect one of the apples from the tree. Sunshine would not move one inch until Ella was seated back down and tugged on her to go again.
    And the way they could fly! Oh, how Ella loved to fly with Sunshine! Darting and racing through the countryside, hair blowing behind them. So free, so fast, so fun.
    Ella smiled and blinked away the sudden tears that had collected into the corners of her eyes. Her fingers stilled upon the wall, one by one she removed them, staring blankly at the cracks again. John was right. She missed Sunshine—there were times when she could have sworn she needed Sunshine to breathe. Especially right after her father had married again. He did not see the darkness that had come into the house when Lady Dashlund moved in, but she did. She felt the loathing and silliness and snide remarks almost from the beginning. But her father was so happy and wanted Ella to be happy so very much that she never had the heart to tell him she was not. Instead, she would climb upon her Sunshine and escape for a while.
    Getting out into nature, the wind, the smells, life brimming everywhere. Out there the world was perfect. Out there everything became good again. Once she had had a good, strong ride, it was easy to come back inside and be friendly and happy and the exact way her father would have had her. She only needed to breathe first.
    Rolling onto her back, Ella stared up at the open wooden rafters of the ceiling. She frowned, her face scrunching as if she were in pain. Closing her eyes, she wished for a moment her life was different—just for a few minutes at least—she wished the world back the way it was when she was nine. When everything was free and perfect. Now, it seems, it will never be that way again.

CHAPTER SIX
    PRINCE ANTHONY STRODE INTO the palace, his boots echoed upon the marble floors and bounced off the large pillars and ornately carved ceilings as he made his way up the stairs and into his rooms. He threw off his riding coat and tossed it on the navy blue high-backed chair for Maren to clean and sort later. Shucking off his riding boots and trousers, he quickly changed into more suitable clothes to be worn about the place. His mother never appreciated the reek of horse on him and insisted he change the moment he walked in the castle.
    As he was tying his new cravat in a dashing waterfall, he began the long-awaited berating of himself, he had held back the whole time Zedekiah was going on about his adventures within the Dashlunds’ home and how he barely made it out alive. Which was fine, it was good he continued to chatter and keep them both amused the length of the ride home, because it allowed Anthony to sit in peace and not have to relate his own excitement and confusions. It was almost as if Zedekiah had forgotten why Anthony remained outside altogether. He would remember soon enough and have his own questions, but for now—now the prince preferred his moment to reflect on it all alone.
    He slipped his day coat on and stared at himself in the mirror. Maren would be extremely vexed that he had chosen to get dressed himself and not call for him, but it was how it was. He blinked at the young man staring back through the looking glass. The man of wealth and power—he was tall, he was strong, he was handsome enough, with his father’s jaw and his mother’s hazel eyes. His light brownish-blondish hair