Novel & Cerita A Stepmother's Marchen

Because my father saw me, I approached him. "You visited for, how long?" He asked. "Maybe forever," I said, and he grinned faintly. "I want to know my stepmother, can it be as good as my mother." "You don't need mom, but you need it—" His talk suddenly stopped when he looked at the stairs; a beautiful woman, brown-haired, bumpy, and very elegant, walking towards us with a wide smile. Was she my stepmother? "You want to know my wife, this is Beatrice, you can call her Mom"

After the birth of Phillipa, it even became worse because a child now meant that she could secure her claim to the name, March. "Arghhhhh" I stomp my feet on the ground and let out a scream into the cold chilly air. Maybe I need to take a walk to calm my nerves. I can't go back there in this mood, I'll be forced to do something I don't want to do. It's late at night. We had just finished dinner before my stepmother started barking once again. I hate her so much. So much, I wish father never married her. It's twenty years late for regrets

Fia suddenly shouted, "Brother, isn't our father going to marry Mommy? Our biological mother is long gone. Then Mommy is also our stepmother?" "Is that so? Is your father also going to marry stepmother?" The little boy had a sympathetic look on his face. "Then you better not let them get married. Otherwise, you will become like me, getting beaten and scolded all day long." "Impossible!" Fia was not convinced, "Mommy is different from that stepmother of yours. She treats us very well!"

The part that is left of her. I could not do it. "Get up, get up,” my stepmother spat, grabbing on my arm and pulling onto the soles. “Just quit being a scene.". She muttered I trailed after her, the fingernails of her talon-like fingers digging deep into my arm as she dragged me away from the crowd. When they were out of earshot, she wheeled on me, her eyes blazing bright. "Do you think this is funny?" she returned. "Crying like that in front of everybody, making me look like a bad mother?"

The moment the words left my mouth, she shifted in her seat, her body tensing. Regret hit me instantly. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up. I was about to tell her to forget it—to let it go—when she spoke. “You wouldn’t believe what my stepmother did,” she said, her voice tight. “She’s trying to marry you off to my stepsister.” I coughed, caught completely off guard. “What do you mean?” I asked, frowning. “She wants me to have two wives? Two half-sisters?” I shook my head. “That’s… very weird.”

But Mara was their sacrificial lamb instead. Back home, I found my stepmother lounging on the couch, a glass of wine in hand. She turned toward me, her face pale as though she’d seen a ghost. “You’re back?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. I smiled sweetly. “Of course, stepmother. Why wouldn’t I be?” Her wine glass shook in her hand. “What... What did you do?” I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Me? Whatever do you mean?”

“You don't have a mate, neither have you connected with your wolf, yet someone is willing to have you! Isn't that so beautiful?!” Ama’s words and actions had become so cliché that I was no longer bothered, so I returned my attention to my stepmother, grabbing her hand this time, “You can't do this to me, ma'am! I've served you and did everything you want all my life. Please, don't do this to me!” My stepmother jerked off my hands, violently, as if they were plagued. "You sure have grown some gut! Touch me one more time and that would be the end of your filthy hands! Go and pack up your things now!”

The confession slipped out, vulnerable and true. My quiet personality cracked open, enough to let him peek inside the storm I’d hidden for years. He stepped closer, towering over me, that commanding presence making my knees weak. “This is dangerous, princess. I’m your stepfather. Your mother…” “Mom’s not here,” I whispered, bold from the whiskey and the pressing desires he’d left me with since the sleepwalking night. I set my glass down and reached for his hand. “Dance with me? Just for a minute. The weather is too cold to ignore.”

I slammed my fist onto the table, barely able to contain my rage. “There’s nothing I can do, Henry; he married Sol. Besides, your stepmother is a good person—” "Even you, uncle? You fell for the act of that gold-digging maid my father married?!" Uncle Roberto sighed and slowly adjusted his glasses, trying to calm me down. "Henry, calm down. Solana is kind. Yes, she used to be a maid here, but she’s a good girl. She took care of your father, and—”

As she pat's them and sings to them. "Would you please be our mummy?" The youngest suddenly asks out of the blue. Esther's eyes widen in shock and she begins to laugh at the child's innocence. "No dear, to be your mummy, your dad and I have to be married." She replies still laughing. "Then marry him." The oldest adds and Esther's laughter drops. The children begin to cry and tell her how much they miss their mom. They say Esther makes it feel like their mom is around whenever she is with them.