Cinderella.

The name her sisters had given her.

The name her stepmother called out every morning and evening, hate dripping from her tongue.

For years, she had silently suffered the torture inflicted on her.

But not anymore.

This would be her one chance at setting things right. To show her mother that she was a good and obedient daughter. So what if it was a risky plan? It was worth it.

Three weeks ago, there had been a grand ball in the kingdom. The Prince wanted every belle and dame to come. Everyone.

With great excitement, Hilda and Gilda had prepared themselves for the event. Visits to the seamstress, hairdresser, and what not. It was everything they talked about, day and night.

"You won't go. It's an order."

With these words, her mother had dashed what little hope Cinderella had of going to the ball. It tore her heart out, but then she didn't have much left of it anyway.

The great day came. Everywhere one could see, dresses of every colour imaginable filled the magnificent hall; in those dresses, young girls and ladies alike. Men, too, flashed their new suits proudly.

The massive chandeliers shone across the hall, illuminating every nook and cranny. The King beamed with pride as he sat on his throne in a corner while the dashing, young Prince hosted the night's events.

Oh, he was a host all right. He didn't have to do anything. His handsome looks, his eloquence of speech and his delightful humour swept everyone off their feet. The girls fought over who got to dance with him.

Little did anyone know he was a brute.

The Prince, being the host, had the honour of performing the first dance. His deep green eyes scanned the crowd and came to rest on a sweet, young and pretty girl, who couldn't stop blushing. Hilda.

The Prince asked her out and she nearly fainted from the excitement. They danced all night, laughing and joking. It was all very magical.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" the Prince asked his partner in his honeyed voice.

"Yes," pat came the reply.

One thing led to another and how she had ended up in his bed, sleeping with him, she had no idea. But she had no worries or regrets. The Prince had already promised to marry her, the night before.

But promises are meant to be broken.

The announcement surprised everyone. The Prince's engagement with the princess of the neighbouring country broke every girl's heart.

"What shall I do, mother? He promised! He promised!" Hilda lashed out, throwing a plate on the nearest wall.

"Oh, you stupid, idiot girl! You should have taken it in writing! Promised! Silly idiot! Now, look at what you have done! You've ruined us! Ruined us all!" the mother bellowed, storming out of the room.

Cinderella had witnessed everything quietly. Some little corner of her heart sympathised with her stepsister. Yet, the heart never forgets. Hilda had done her great injustice and so Cinderella was slightly happy. Her sister deserved it.

"Oh God! Whatever shall we do! If I could just get my hands on that piece of scum!" the mother ranted on and on, morning and evening.

Meanwhile, Hilda had bawled and cried her eyes out. "He broke my heart," she managed to whisper, and then another one of her fits engulfed her. Her hair torn out, eyes red, and streaks of dried tears on her face. It was pathetic.

But could this be a chance? Yes. Cinderella had an opportunity. She had done everything to convince her mother what a good daughter she could be. One chance. It was all she asked for.

It was never given to her. And so, she would have to seize it.

The King's messenger shouted himself hoarse as he announced another ball in the upcoming week, in honour of Prince's engagement.

Another ball! Fate was at last being just to Cinderella.

And so, she worked day and night on her plan, like a man possessed. She stitched her own dress, stealing the cloth and threads from her step mother's wardrobe. To her luck, the mother never noticed. She was too busy in handling Hilda, whose condition deteriorated as time went by.

The much awaited day came. This time, the same hall witnessed an even grander celebration. The King was so happy with excitement. The marriage had been purely a diplomatic one, securing ties with the neighbouring country, a powerful nation. And he was glad the Prince had no objection.

Cinderella somehow sneaked out in her own torn rags, convincing her distraught mother she was going to fetch supplies, and changed in the nearby woods. Then she booked a passing carriage, with a few coins. Again, courtesy of her mother's wardrobe.

She arrived at the palace. She gracefully went up the stairs leading to the castle, copying the mannerisms of the elite class present. She blended in perfectly, but had to disappear in the crowd when they inquired about her background and all.

The makeup she donned came in handy as many people would have identified her as the dirty young maid who worked at Lady Casvello's house.

The ball finally began. The humour, the pleasant words that came out of the Prince's mouth did little to charm her. Although, she had to admit, the Prince was ravishingly handsome.

The dances began. The rotations allowed her to come in contact with the Prince and her innocent looks and witty comebacks stole his attention. After the dances were over, he sought her or and invited her for a walk. She agreed gladly.

The lush green carpeted grass felt nice to walk on in the castle grounds.

They talked nicely and seeing the Prince distracted, Cinderella quietly pulled out her dagger and plunged into his heart, who had no time to counter. She pulled it out with one swift move and ran.

One moment, the Prince staggered, frowning and shouting for help and in the next, he crashed to the ground. Still. Lifeless.

The King was furious and depressed. No son. No marriage. No alliance with the neighbouring country. His only heir. Gone.

Back at home, Cinderella burned the dress in the furnace and melted the dagger.

The nation was dumbfounded, angry but sad too. The guards searched everywhere but no evidence was found. They even offered a ridiculously huge sum of money to whoever caught the culprit. Apart from some people claiming they saw the Prince leading the pretty young girl outside the castle, no one had any clue who the murderer was.

The girl was long gone.

Lady Casvello smiled as Cinderella narrated everything to her, hoping she would embrace as her daughter. And the stepmother did, even congratulating her for doing the right thing. The days that followed were comforting, broken only by the sudden arrival of guards at their door and their departure from the house accompanied by a hurt, angry and cuffed Cinderella.

Lady Casvello smiled again. All she had ever wanted in her life were two things- getting rid of Cinderella and being rich.

Two birds hit with one stone.