?Stealing Cinderella Michelle Bonanno Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom there lived a small boy named Wren with his parents, the Lady and Lord of Mactopia. The parents loved their child and though their life was filled with riches, they treasured him the most. Wren, though he lived a life of wealth, had a heart of pure gold and was not consumed by his royal status. Their manor was a ways off from the main village and so Wren cherished his parents company as they did his. Every day after schooling he would keep his mother company in the manor until his father came home. After dinner his father would read him books that told tales of fighting princes in far off fantasy lands and his mother would sing him a lullaby before tucking him in. As he grew older the lullabies stopped but his father never stopped reading from his books. Robinson Crusoe was the boy’s favorite. The night before his father left to travel to the Kingdom’s castle he gave Wren the book: “I will not be here to read this to you every night. Read a little every night and when I return tell me of Robinson Crusoe’s adventures.” The father kissed the boy goodnight, along with his mother, and bid him farewell. That would be the last thing his father ever gave him, or said to him. For during his father’s journey a bandit would rob and kill him. When Wren and his mother caught word of his father’s untimely death they were devastated. His mother was so distraught that she fell ill. Wren, their cook, and the housemaid tried everything they could to heal the mother. They called on doctors, fairies, and elves for their healing powers but no one could save the Lady. She died of a broken heart leaving Wren an orphan. Wren was forced to move in with his aunt and uncle, closer to the center of Kingdom Mactopia. His aunt and uncle had never like his family because they had assumed the title of Lord and Lady and were rich. This hatred caused them to make Wren their handyman and servant to them and their fat, spoiled son Charming. Throughout the years Wren endured the lugging of firewood, scouring of floors, and the commands of his stout cousin. His aunt and uncle sold Wren’s family belongings, except for a few items he was able to salvage including the now raggedy copy of Robinson Crusoe. It was the only thing he had left of his father’s and by now he could read it from memory. His aunt, uncle, and cousin never regarded him for anything other than orders. The animals at the manor were his only friends and the book was his only escape. * * * A week after Wren turned eighteen his uncle came into the manor with a life changing announcement. “Our dear King has passed,” he began solemnly, “but do not cry long for I have brighter news! We shall assume the throne! I shall be the new King of Mactopia, you my fair lady shall be their Queen, and my dear lad you will now be called Prince Charming!” The family danced around the manor. “Wren!” his uncle called, “Come here boy!” “Yes Uncle?” Wren inquired as he entered the parlor. Uncle hated him less when he was alert. “Stand up straight you fool! We are the new royal family. That makes you the newest royal servant. Assure that our belongings make it to the castle unharmed and be sure to pack your petty belongings separate, and last. You will join us, in the servant quarters.” Wren was confused – “What will I do there?” Growing impatient, his uncle struck the boy on the back of his head: “Don’t ask stupid questions! You are going to work for us of course. You will be Charming’s personal servant. Now get to work!” The family left soon after. Wren had the manor packed up within the next day and by the second afternoon the King’s servants were on their way with it to the castle. Wren arrived there on the third day. As his uncle had said, he became his cousin’s personal assistant. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse than working at the manor. He wasn’t scrubbing floors, feeding animals, or lugging wood anymore but his cousin was the definition of a royal pain. If the constant commands didn’t drive Wren crazy it was the bell Prince Charming rang each time he issued one: Ding! “Wren! My trousers!” Ding! “I said poached eggs, not scrambled!” Ding! “Find something entertaining to do.” Ding! “Where is my lunch?” Ding! “I’m bored! Tell me a story.” Ding! “Start me a bath, extra bubbles!” Ding! “Turn down my bedding!” Wren longed for a change in task. He was almost joyous the day he heard the King and Queen whispering in the throne room. “Tabatha, I fear we have a problem.” The king stated. “What’s the problem my dear? We are King and Queen, what more could we want?” “It’s Charming,” the King replied, “Our time will come to an end soon and he will be King. We need to find him a maiden so he can make an heir. These things must be timed appropriately.” “True,�