Chapter 2: Where did it all go wrong?

Ysabel sighed, the weight of the bucket pressing against her hip as she shifted her gaze from the castle to the dirt path winding through the village. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced across the ground, but the warmth it offered felt distant.

Martina's voice still lingered in her ear. Now that she can no longer work at the castle means she has to work day and night to earn. Unlike when she is giving her extra help inside the castle walls means she'll have a hot meal, warm milk and at least bronze coins. Ysabel's shoulder sunk. She wanted to be angry at Laila for running her mouth but she's at fault too for entertaining her that results for her being jobless yet again.

After filling the basin with enough water, she wiped her hands with a clean cloth. She pushed the door made with thin wood, it creates a noisy creak before she closed it again slowly as if it wouldn't make a sound. Ysabel just didn't want her mother to notice that she's home but it was already a futile attempt for the woman is already standing with a glare in her direction.

"Mother,"

A wry smile etch in the corner of her mother's chapped lips before she made her way to her.

"Oh, look who's back. My ungrateful stepdaughter."

Ysabel swallowed hard. Wendy, her mother- no her step mother is once the epithome of beauty, at least to her and her late father. Though commoners they are, her father always made sure that Wendy is still pampered, maybe not like of those royalties but enough to make the others jealous. She's their queen in their own little abode and she is their little princess.

Where did it all go wrong? When did Wendy treat her with such contempt? When did she start to talk to her with hatred? When did she stopped loving her? Or did she really loved her? Out of her thoughts, she gasped when she felt the aluminum glass hit her face.

"Don't be dramatic, it won't break your disgusting face. You've been gone for a week! Where have you been?"

She hissed.

"I, I'm in the castle mother, I worked there. I left you a note-"

"Hah! The castle again. "

She mocked, smiling with disbelief and pity that twisted a knot on her stomach.

"Do you act like a princess there, Ysabel? A princess scrubbing floors, wiping dirt, acting like an obedient puppy wagging tails for a bone?!"

Biting her lip, Ysabel clutch the fabric of her worn out skirt. Her step mother used to tell her stories of Princess and a Prince, knights and magic. A story of a happy ever after. However she is also the reason why the stories became nothing but mock of misery for Ysabel. Each and everyday after her father passed, Wendy created a book of misery just for Ysabel.

Ysabel sat on the edge of her rickety bed, after getting a beating from her step mother. The weight of her situation pressing down on her like a heavy cloak. The three bronze coins in her pocket felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how little she had to work with. The streets outside were bustling with life, but for her, they felt like a prison, each passerby a reminder of the opportunities that seemed forever out of reach.

Her mother's indifference stung more than the biting cold that seeped through the cracks in their home. Ysabel had long learned that her survival was her own responsibility. The thought of begging, thieving, or worse, made her stomach churn. She had dreams—dreams of a life beyond the grime and despair of her current existence. But how could she escape when every door seemed closed?