Glass Slippers [1st Draft]

4. Pranks (Part One)

Chapter Four:

Pranks

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While it felt like forever, Clara was positive they'd waited outside for ten minutes when a billowing cloud of dirt rose from the road not so far away. Clara gave a quick glance and clothes straighten to each of her siblings before brushing down her own skirts as much as possible. They had to make a good impression, they just had to.

Clara's first thought when the carriage came into the view was that it looked out of place. Well-made and nothing like the cheap wooden one that their family used, the carriage whipped down the road. With fringed curtains and fabrics of deep purple, the color of royalty and wealth, it made Clara think that maybe the Snow White tale wasn't so far from the truth after all. Their stepfamily liked to travel in style, that much was clear.

Harriet latched a hand onto Clara's, causing her to look over at her two sisters. Harriet stood in between Amelia and Clara, clutching both of their hands. Smiling, Clara reached for James' hand as well, continuing the chain of hands. They were all nervous in their different ways, but at least they would be anxious together.

The carriage started to slow and, already, Clara heard the sound of voices from inside of it. As the coachmen brought the carriage to a stop, Harriet squeezed her hand tight, and Clara gave a gentle one back.

The coachmen hurried down from his perch, rushing past the Corden siblings without a glance as he passed them to reach the gilded door of the carriage. Throwing his head back and straightening his hat, he pulled open the door with a flourish, as if he were presenting them to the queen, not their new stepfamily.

"Mrs. Dashane-"

"It's Mrs. Corden, now, Mr. Jones," a voice corrected, and as the words settled in the air, the Corden siblings got their first look at their new stepmother. Harriet and Amelia probably expected a green-skinned witch, but that was not what they got.

Clara expected someone who looked and acted something like her mother, but that was not what she got. James expected a woman, and he was the only one who got exactly what he planned for.

A single green-toed shoe stepped out first, its snakeskin material reflecting the sunlight, then a pale and slender hand reached out to take Mr. Jones' hand. A brown-haired woman with a single peacock feather in her bun moved into the sunlight.

The woman stepped down from the carriage, her head held high and green eyes examining the Corden siblings like pieces at an auction. As she stood on to the dusty driveway, two identical girls came out of the carriage, their faces scowling, hopefully at the sun.

"Hello, children," their father said, getting out of the carriage after his two new stepdaughters. "How good of you to wait for us. Let me introduce-"

"Oh Samuel, I would so like to introduce myself. After all, I am their new mother," the woman intoned, and Clara's stomach clenched at the sound of the woman's proclamation.

"Darlings," she said, looking at the Corden children with a close-lipped smile. "My name is Linette Dashane, well, Linette Corden, now," she said, turning her head to look fondly at Clara's father. "These," she motioned to her daughters, "are your new siblings, Estella and Edina. They are twins."

Harriet practically throttled Clara's hand at the sound of the word 'twins' and all four of the Corden children stood there in shock before Clara unclasped her hand from her siblings' and dropped into a curtsey.

"It is wonderful to meet you, Linette, Estella, Edina," she said silently praying to whatever power there was above that her voice would not shake. "I am Clara, the eldest, and this is Harriet, she's eight, Amelia, she's four almost five, and lastly, James, he's just turned two," Clara finished, smiling at her stepmother.

"How nice. Please, call me stepmother," Linette answered, her dark brows raising. "Oh dear, I do believe there is a stain on your dress. What a pity. At least it's not your best one, I'm sure," she said, touching the orange-tinged fabric of Clara's dress with a slender finger. A blush rose to Clara's face. It was her best dress. In fact, all of the Corden children were dressed in their best.

"I was, I mean, James had carrots with his lunch and well, I had to clean him up a little afterward," Clara explained, her face getting redder with every word. Linette cocked her head to the side, an eyebrow arched.

"I see." Linette turned to Clara's father. "Samuel, please do show us your estate. You've told me so much about it, I just can't wait to see the inside. I feel already at home," Linette gushed, latching onto Clara's father's arm.

"That's very good, dearest." He started to guide her into the house, talking about these steps, that door, who installed that rose bush. The door closed behind them and Clara found herself face to face with the twins.

"Would you like to see the house as well?" She asked, and both of them cocked an eyebrow, not unlike their mother did a moment ago.

"Hardly. Your father went on for ages about the homemade armoire in mother's room-"

"And the chandelier, don't forget the chandelier-"

"Yes, yes. He almost sent us straight to sleep. I've never been so bored in my life-

"Indeed! I've never ever given a fig about the making of some foolish armoire," Edina stated, and the clenching in Clara's stomach gripped her tighter. Her father had made that armoire for her mother when they'd first married.

It was the only thing he'd ever made himself, and her mother, when she was alive, used to joke that the reason he never made anything of the sort again was because his thumbs still ached after smashing them too many times with a hammer.

"That was my mother's, Father made it for her," Clara said evenly, unable to hold back some sort of retort.

"Oh. Sorry," Edina said, not sounding sorry at all. "Could you show us to our rooms?" She asked. Clara nodded in answer, glad to have an excuse to get out of the conversation.

"Certainly." Clara started towards the house, her sisters, new and old, following behind her while Clara had placed James back on her hip. As they reached the front foyer, Clara felt a tug on her sleeve, and Harriet stepped beside her.

"What's an armor?" She asked, her voice carrying in the room. A loud burst of laughter filled the air, and both Clara and Harriet spun around to see the twins smirking with identical cat-that-ate-the-canary grins.

"Armor! Ha!-"

"It's armoire!"

"I knew that," Harriet said indignantly, a scowl plastered on her face.

"Clearly, you didn't-"

"Otherwise you would've said it right!" Edina said, the corners of her mouth curling. Clara quickly grabbed Harriet by the elbow and proceeded to hurry her along up the stairs, getting the small group moving again. After the twins dropped into just occasional giggles, she let go of Harriet, confident in the fact she wouldn't try and attack them.

"It's a wardrobe," Clara said, answering her sister's earlier question, but all she got in response was a grunt. Looking at her sister, Clara suddenly felt a sense of dread.
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Dunn, dunn, dunn! What do you think will happen? Tell me in the comments!