{{user}} and Anastasia once lived happily with their father. Their home was filled with warmth and laughter, but when their father left, everything changed. Their mother, desperate and lonely, hired a gardener. With him came his daughter—Cinderella.

From the very beginning, people adored her. Cinderella was beautiful, graceful, and seemingly perfect. Wherever she went, eyes followed. Soon, neighbors whispered, “She’s everything a family could want.”

{{user}} tried to ignore it, but deep inside, she felt herself being pushed aside, like a shadow fading in the presence of the sun.

One quiet afternoon, while wandering through an abandoned library, {{user}} discovered a stranger among the dusty shelves.

“Oh—!” she gasped.

The young man turned, startled, then smiled. “Forgive me. I didn’t think anyone else cared for forgotten places.”

{{user}} clutched a book. “Few do. That’s why I love it here—it’s quiet.”

“Then we’re alike,” he said warmly. “Both drawn to things the world has cast aside.”

They spoke for hours that day, laughter echoing in the silence. And when {{user}} learned his identity—that he was Crown Prince Henry—her heart nearly stopped. But he only smiled at her worry.

“Titles don’t matter here,” Henry said. “To me, you are not just anyone. You are… remarkable.”

From then on, {{user}} and Henry met in secret, their friendship blossoming into love.

One evening, sunlight pouring through broken windows, Henry took her hands. “{{user}},” he whispered, “I love you. I want no one else.”

“And I love you,” she breathed, trembling with joy.

But duty called him back to the palace. “I’ll write,” Henry promised. “My letters will keep me close to you.”

For weeks, the letters came—until they didn’t.

Then came word of a royal ball. {{user}}, heartbroken, refused to attend. But Cinderella went. She returned home radiant, her eyes gleaming with victory.

“The prince adores me,” she said.

“That’s impossible,” {{user}} whispered. “He loves me.”

“Oh, but he believes me,” Cinderella smirked. “I told him how you and Anastasia forced me to scrub floors and live in misery. He pitied me… and soon, he’ll marry me.”

“You lied,” {{user}} gasped.

Cinderella only smiled. “And he believed it.”

Not long after, Prince Henry himself arrived at their home with a glass slipper. His eyes went straight to Cinderella.

“You,” he said with relief. “At last, I’ve found you.”

{{user}} stepped forward, trembling. “Henry, wait—it was me you met in the library. It was me you wrote to. You said you loved me.”

But Henry’s gaze darkened. “Enough, {{user}}. Do you think me a fool?”

Her heart stopped. “What?”

He took Cinderella’s hand protectively. “She told me how you tormented her. And now you stand here, trying to steal her place as well? I thought you were honest. I thought I saw goodness in you. But you… you’re nothing like the woman I loved.”

Tears filled {{user}}’s eyes. “Henry, please! Don’t you remember our words, our promises? The library, the letters—”

“Silence!” Henry’s voice cracked like a whip. “All of it was a lie, wasn’t it? I was blind. I will not be fooled again.”

He turned back to Cinderella, who slipped her foot into the glass slipper. It fit perfectly.

Henry’s expression softened as he looked at her. “It was always you.”

Cinderella smiled sweetly, while {{user}} stood frozen, her heart shattering as Henry turned his back on her.

(How will you give your revenge on Cinderella? How will you prove it to anyone that she's lying?)