Cιɴderellα ᵃᶰ ᵃᵈᵛᵃᶰᶜᵉᵈ ʳᵒˡᵉᵖˡᵃʸ discussion

The parlor has a couple of elegant sofas, a small sewing area, and a little table. There is a window that shows the outside of the house.

Lady Tremaine gently fanned herself, leaning back on the plush couch. While it was a pleasant temperature outside, the room felt unusually humid. She glanced out the window and saw that the flowers were beginning to bloom in their small garden. Lady Tremaine though about how amazing her daughters would look with flowers in their hair. That is, at the ball. She hoped that at least one would catch the attention of the prince. Lady Tremaine began to daydream about her life as a royal, living in the grand palace, eating divine food, being tended to her every need . . .

Anastasia was walking around her new house. It was actually larger than she thought it would be, but it was still nothing compared to her old home. She admitted it to herself, she missed her father a lot. Her mother was nice enough to her, and her sister was plain annoying, she loved her father more than anyone. She sighed.

Anastasia wondered around the house some more, looking for a place to relax that didn't have her sister, and maybe someone to talk to. She entered a room that looked like a parlor, and turned around and saw her mother, Lady Tremaine, "Oh, hello Mother."

"Oh," she muttered. "It's you." Lady Tremaine had never been fond of any of her children-stepchldren included. Anastasia had just interrupted her perfect daydream. "Darling," Lady Tremaine said, in a much nicer tone, "wouldn't you rather go study your French? After all, if you're going to marry well, you must be suitably high-class." Lady Tremaine was always getting her daughters to prepare for their future lives as wives of elite men.

Anastasia came in there to talk to someone, and now they were just shoving her off. Her smile formed into a frown, "Oh. I guess I'll leave," She told Lady Tremaine, thinking of where to go to get to the study. The house was kind of confusing, and she had only been there for a day. "And Mother, I know French quite well," Anastasia reminded her, hoping that she could stay in the room with her. She might test her, but she actually did know French, unlike Drizella.

((Sorry I'm going to school))

((I am too, I'll respond after school or in math or during lunch or something)

((I'll just delete that post it was so awful))

"Really, darling?" Lady Tremaine asked. Anastasia, perhaps, might have some semblance of knowledge. Of course, with a sister like Drizella, you had to be careful. "Que dis-je maintenant?" she asked. Let her figure that out.

"Yes! I do know!" She said, kind of angrily. Anastasia listened to the words. The first word was what... In a couple of seconds, she had it translated. "Mother, you said 'What do I say now?" She smiled, "I don't know, you can say whatever it pleases you to say in English or French."

Lady Tremaine cast her daughter a dirty look. "You'll never catch a husband with that attitude," she remarked. "You must know French, but you must be subtle about it." Lady Tremaine thought about how to continue. "It pains me to say this, but men hate women who know more than they do."

Anastasia stood up straighter, "I will never get within five meters of a man who think that he's better than me so he should know more than me! Men are supposed to be kind, caring, and supportive, not arrogant little scumbags!" She got angry. Why should women know less than men? It was utterly stupid.

Lady Tremaine frowned at her daughter. How naive, how innocent. She didn't know the half of it. "All good men are greedy," Lady Tremaine said. "That, or poor. Now, darling, you don't want to be a baker's wife, do you?" The truth was, Lady Tremaine would probably be more saddened than her daughter if Anastasia were to marry a common folk.

Anastasia turned red out of anger. "I rather be a wife to a mere baker who treats me like a lady than a king who thinks I am below him. I don't care if my future spouse is poor, all I care is that we would love each other. That is better than riches to me, but I don't know about you."

"You know what?" Lady Tremaine just snapped. "I want you to go to your room and think about what you've said!" How dare she talk to her mother like that! Lady Tremaine had given up so much for her daughters. She'd married a man she hated, hidden her grief for her first husband, and sacrificed luxuries she could've had to get them dresses and lace and parasols and everything!

((Sorry gtg easter))

((Byeeee))
Anastasia just stood there. "Mother, you sacrificed love and happiness simply for money. Maybe Drizella would like that, but I much rather like to see you happy than act grumpy all day, every day. I don't care what you do, I am not going to my room. I don't regret one little word I said."